Short Story: The Secret Donor: A Padre Peters Mystery
This story continues the adventures of Padre Peters, a religious man on a mission to challenge evil when he must and when mankind is in danger. In this tale, he has brought together some of his colleagues in the endeavor which could ruin ROD if not stopped. The members of the Religious Organization of Detectives must act decisively and swiftly. Nevertheless, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or places real or imagined is strictly coincidental.
I would like to thank Sean Dragon, Manatita44, and my wife for encouraging me to create this work. I also thank other Hub Pages authors, such as Nikki Khan and Ms. Dora, for encouragement as well. Please, enjoy: The secret Donor, and leave comments if you prefer.
The Secret Donor: A Padre Peters Mystery
If you are reading this document, then I must say congratulations. You are the new leader of ROD, an important post. I pray you achieve the goal of reducing the strength of our ancient adversary. I’ll try to give as much advice in my journal as possible. It’s amazing how much data we can save on such a little thing like a microchip. Large amounts of data stored in such a tiny space, and completely encrypted for you to read. In some ways, that sums up the nature of what you are about to read.
I have always fathomed the possibility of man someday figuring out how the small (quantum) forces, and the immense forces (gravity, electromagnetic, etc.) which science has discovered manages to coalesce; I suspect the finding will be that God is the binding source of all things. His mysteries are gigantic and microscopic. In His wisdom, He did leave us clues to ponder. I think if we knew too much too easily, we would be bored. Our nature is to question, to solve riddles, to address puzzles, and make sense of enigmas. Perhaps, that’s what drives me, and I pray such aspects of life fuel your endeavors.
Now, when working as the leader of the Religious Organization of Detectives (ROD), I take finding clues seriously, especially in battling humanity’s old enemy and his legions. To stay on top of things, I study from various spiritual and religious perspectives, always remaining grounded in my Christian faith. For example, I became fascinated with numbers, learning that my Savior, Jesus Christ, walked his ministry, forming a complete circle some say. This is consistent with God being Alpha and Omega, the starting and ending point of all things. It is also consistent with a few of the ancient Hindu Gods, often portrayed in circular representations. Other cultures also use a circle to show the eternal. Apparently, zero is much more than nothing.
Of course, as I conduct my research, I check my emails in the process, with some of my colleagues working in places like India, Africa, or even locations such as Antarctica, remaining in contact is essential to our goal. One of those communications came from Padre Ulysses, based in Europe and needing me to meet him. Another was from Padre Montreal, located in the Caribbean, desiring to meet about the same situation. They both said Padre Peters we must discuss this new development. I knew both men from the Academy in Argentina, where we surrendered our old names and acquired new ones. We were all covered by the blood of Jesus Christ, having dreams of what we should do as adults. Our mission is to remind Satan he is defeated, which means we seek out his minions and give them a good thrashing.
That’s what I just finished before writing this journal entry. Hidden in a cabin in a southern U.S. mountainous region, one of his demons had set up shop. Complete with wi-fi, the evil creature had tried to influence politics here, spamming garbage across the internet. The dastardly beast was even tapping into the cell phone towers, sending phony messages to get people to vote for some politician or another. I unplugged his connection.
Connecting with a foul being at the heart of the bond is disorder and chaos. But that isn’t the nature of the beautiful valleys and flowers I saw on that mountain. They were testimonies to our interwoven dependency on the Creator. I regretted having to leave such a beautiful forest, but I needed to get to Asia. Before going on with this journal entry, answer the following question, and think about it as you read.
Do you think an over dependence on technology threatens our soul?
My colleagues had been all around the Himalayas, battling our foes with vigor and some positive results. They had won new followers over to Christ in the process, simply by example. They worked through the power of love and had succeeded. Now, we would tackle a whole new problem. I knew these men were ready for the task.
I arrived at our agreed upon location, a stunning waterfall, in the middle of the mountain range where we could talk without being overheard. I could sense the men had already prayed and the place was secure. God’s angels were watching us. I walked casually over to where they sat.
“Greetings, Padre Peters,” called Padre Ulysses, “I know this isn’t our normal way to speak, but we wanted to make sure we had privacy.”
“Agreed.” I said, “This whole affair can be troublesome.”
“Yes,” said Padre Montreal, “and I don’t think we have much time. Something is definitely afoot.” Both men were dressed in jeans and long-sleeved shirts. I also wore casual clothes, enjoying the natural beauty around us.
We don’t believe in tons of formal wear. Our Savior never owned a three-piece suit. He told humanity to come as you are, and we did. All three of us took a seat on the cold stony ground near the waterfall and began the discussion.
“I buried it here a few weeks ago, Padre Peters. The sack with the money is just behind this boulder. Padre Ulysses twisted around and pushed back a huge rock. He and Padre Montreal quickly retrieved a sack from a hole.
“Where could this be coming from, Padre Peters? Who is sending us this cash?” Padre Montreal inquired as he meticulously formed little piles of money in U.S. bills on the ground.
We all looked at the piles of money on the ground. I spoke quietly, “You know as well as I do. We all know. No one has the address of the academy but those who have attended it. I have my suspicions. No one should be sending you money directly anyway.” Both men nodded.
I scooped up some of the bills, stashing the cash in my pocket for later. I continued, “We must get away from here. I have a feeling we must go to the source of things. Let’s go to one of our bases in the United States, particularly, the east coast. I will book our flights in the morning.”
Our flight was uneventful. After retrieving our laptops and suitcases, we went straight from the airport to our old house, stationed in a remote area in a southern U.S. town. We quickly moved inside the building, locking the door behind us.
“Padre Peters,” Padre Montreal asked, “we haven’t spoken on this subject for nearly twenty-four hours. Why did you want to come here?” His voice was knowing in tone.
I responded, “There is no risk of further infection from here, Padre Montreal. We can put a stop to this now.”
“You know what’s been happening?” Padre Ulysses said, in a slightly melodramatic voice. I nodded, and both men did, too. I had already figured out that these two were on the same page with me when we met in Asia. After all, they are two of the best.
I put the cash I had stashed from the meeting at the waterfall on a little table. I reached and turned on the computer sitting there. I commanded, “All right. You have our attention. What do you want demon?”
The screen of the laptop remained black as night, but it shimmered in an unholy darkness. In very human inflections, the machine spoke, a pure rattling distorted sound of evil, “Well, James Peters, I am honored. How do you like my gifts of money? You know you boys can’t just jet around the world for free. Somebody’s got to carry that bill. How about some appreciation?”
“Knock it off.” said Padre Montreal with sternness, “We are not calling you out for a party of gratitude. You don't visit a person's home without a standing invitation.”
“Of course not, French-Canadian super stud. You want me to leave.” The speakers on the laptop shook with a violence which rocked the entire room. The thing hooted in delight, “Give up my cozy place? Not happening. This technology is mine to shine by and by. You’ll fly away. I need to shut you boys down.”
We found ourselves hurled through the air, through the door, and crashing beneath a group of trees. I checked to see if my team mates were hurt. They were not. We had started praying the moment the incredible wind began, and that saved our lives.
I gave my team directions and we hastened back through the door. We formed a triangle around the round table, praying and quoting biblical passages. (Three is a sacred and powerful spiritual number, too.)
The monster in the machine cursed our families. It screamed at God. It tried to push us out of the building again; but we were like mighty oaks planted beside the water. We would not bend or be moved in any direction.
With a shriek which would dwarf the winds of a tremendous hurricane, the thing vanished, remaining invisible to our eyes. We assembled for a debriefing.
Once we were seated around the table, I spoke, “There was only one way it could have had our addresses and locations, the demon had to invade our secure internet connections. Likewise, the Bible teaches us we don’t battle flesh creatures, but spirits, and one is noted as being the Prince of the Air. The airwaves are controlled by telecommunications today. Of course, I knew that was where he was hiding. He hid where he could reach us easily, on the internet.”
“Yes,” went on Padre Ulysses, “I remember reading a finding by scientists that if aliens wanted to destroy mankind, why send battle ships? It would be much easier to infiltrate our internet and place bugs there to cause us to self-destruct.”
“Indeed,” affirmed Padre Montreal, “our enemy certainly would try the same trick.”
“Weaken us from within. Ascend to our top levels of communications to confuse us and ultimately compromise ROD.” I stated, “Maybe it did not read enough. The demon would have discovered we have donors from across the globe, affiliated with many religious denominations. We pick up the cash personally. We don’t take money coming in through the mail. It wasn’t real money anyway.”
I pointed to the table. The cash had turned into a pile of paper. My team mates smiled, “Money is the root of this demon’s evil. Money, influence, power – those evil beings never tire of the same script.” Said an exhausted Padre Montreal.
I gave my team their new assignments, and we cheerfully parted after holding a devotion.
Truthfully, technology is a tool. It can encourage big change; or technology may be the altering factor itself. It’s a wonderous healer and a devious destroyer of lives. We need technology to assist us with stitching together the enormous and miniature parts of life. It in itself is not a bad thing. Who knows? I may combat the Duke of Tacos next week. Those demons love glorious names and grand frauds. Regardless, I’ll need my computer to help me track it down and put it out of commission. For these reasons, keep technological marvels in your tool box of necessities, like the Bible. Good luck to you.