Three to one, p.42
Three To One, page 42
“That is just the thing, Father. I have no idea what the root cause would be. It feels like pure evil has surrounded me.”
“I can’t know who, of course,” Father John said, “But somehow, somewhere, one or more human beings made decisions which brought this about. Remember, I didn’t say there is no battle between good and evil. The battle is taking place inside of each of us.”
“Father, I’m not perfect, but I haven’t done anything that should cause me to be murdered.”
“I believe you, Professor. But remember, none of us live alone. All of our lives are interconnected, in one way or another. Unfortunately, the pain of evil can enter your life because someone else has fallen to temptation.”
“So, you mean, essentially, if someone near me opens a door, by falling to temptation, that can expose me to evil?”
“Remember, evil is not a thing. It is a lack of a thing. Darkness is the absence of light and evil is the absence of goodness. Sin makes people vulnerable to consequences,” John said. “If a person has abandoned goodness, evil can wreak real havoc not only in that person’s life, but in the lives of innocent people near them.”
The professor seemed deep in thought. “This is all so confusing. I’ve never been involved in anything like this.”
“I understand,” Father John said. “Let me pray for you.”
Father John opened the little prayer book, and asked
“Remember we talked about angels, professor?”
“Yes. They are spiritual beings, created by God.”
“Exactly correct. Each human has an angel assigned to guard us.”
“Well, my angel must have taken the day off.”
“I’m not so sure. It sounds to me like he’s been working overtime.”
“How do you mean?”
“You said a professional executioner intended to kill you, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And here you are, in a room with an armed guard outside the door. You just told me that you are fine physically.”
“Okay, that’s true.”
“It is important that we have the presence of mind, the humility to be thankful when things turn out better than the worst case. Don’t be too quick to condemn or discount the work of the angels. In most cases, they try to protect us by inspiring thoughts in our minds which will lead us to make good decisions. Sometimes we miss those cues.”
Peregrine looked down. “I guess truthfully, I have made some decisions that were less than wise.”
“We all do, Peregrine. St. Michael, one of the Archangels, is the commander of God’s angel army. Tradition has it that during the angel rebellion, it was Michael who was commanded to expel the fallen angels from God’s realm. Listen to the words of this prayer, and pray it with me, applying it to this spiritual battle in which you find yourself.”
“Okay, Father.”
Father John made a sign of the cross and began to pray.
“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him we humbly pray; And do thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls.”
Father John reached his hand out to the young Professor, making the sign of the cross over him, and said “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
“Thank you, Father,” the Professor said. “Lord knows I need help. Maybe more than anyone I’ve ever known.
November 1
“Mr. Godbee,” Shawn said, “it comes down to how badly you want this. There are those who are standing by to support you in your bid to fill Senator Hatch’s seat. But they want to be sure they back the right horse if you understand my meaning.”
“And what sort of markings are they looking for on this horse?”
“Essentially, they are looking for someone who is a polar opposite to the late Senator. Where he was aggressive about limiting access to abortion, we are looking for someone who is ready to do real battle to fight for women’s reproductive rights. And we are looking for a candidate who will show strong leadership in prison reform.”
“I’m not in favor of putting criminals on the street, if that is what you mean.”
“On the contrary. We want to put an end to squandering resources. There is a three-strike rule in place, which essentially condemns any habitual offender to a life sentence. We feel this is an inexcusable waste of resources. The death penalty is a much more efficient way to deal with these worst offenders.”
“The death penalty? Do you realize that the three strikes rule applies to non-violent felonies? There is no way that will ever pass.”
“There is no way it will ever pass in this particular session. But we can lay a foundation. We can start by expanding the death penalty incrementally.”
“How?”
“Pass a federal law which represents the first step down this road. You could author legislation that says anyone convicted of multiple murders loses the right to the normal appeals process.”
“Great. Then five years later, DNA evidence shows someone else killed the people, and I am standing in front of television cameras wearing a necklace of skulls around my neck. No thanks.”
“Perhaps begin by applying the law to only those murderers whose guilt is supported by solid DNA evidence.”
“Well… that might be more tenable. And it might receive some bi-partisan support.”
“We understand this is a process. We are willing to take baby steps toward the goal. What we are looking for is a candidate who is committed to the overall vision, all the way to the end.”
“And what is the overall vision? What is the end state you are seeking? Spell it out for me.”
“In a nutshell, the overall vision is to save the planet and preserve the human race.”
“That sounds like a platform I could use to get elected. But I’d like to know more about the details of how you plan to accomplish it.”
“The keystone of the plan’s structure is population control.”
“Population control by what means?”
“Many different means. In the near term, expanded access to abortion is the most obvious, since the barriers have already been broken down by those who came before us.”
“That sounds great. I can get behind that, and I think I could ride that platform through to a successful election, with the right financial backing.”
“That is the near term. We can find dozens of candidates who will support those efforts. We need a candidate who is ready to sign on for the whole ride and enjoy a long and illustrious career.”
“I’m listening.”
November 2
“Hey Dove?”
“Mmhmm?”
In his apartment, she was ignoring a glass wall overlooking the city lights and the moonlit harbor, a nice Einstein bust on the fireplace mantle, a saxophone playing quietly in the background, and all of his expensive wall art. She was reading, her nose in a book, as usual. Peregrine loved it.
“What do you want out of life?”
“What?” She looked up at him, a curious expression.
“I mean, if you boil it all down, when you look ahead to the future, what is it you hope will happen?” She gave him a serious gaze. Probably thinking he had lost his mind. Her pretty blue eyes were analyzing him. “I guess I’m asking to hear your life dreams,” he said.
“Okay…” she set a bookmark and closed the book softly. She paused a moment. She tilted her head in such a cute way. “Are you ready to have this conversation? I mean, are we to that point?”
Peregrine shrugged. “When is the right time to start talking about serious things? I’ve just had an eye-opening experience. One that made me realize life might not be as long as expected. I don’t want to waste any time.”
“Okay. I understand that.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put you on the spot. I’ll go first.”
She smiled at him. He felt strong and brave when she smiled at him. “Dove, I’ve never met anyone like you. I can’t imagine a time in my future when I wouldn’t want to be with you. When I wouldn’t want to have you beside me. Is that too forward?”
“No. Thank you. I feel the same.”
“Okay, but…”
“But? Are you really going to follow that up with a but?”
“No, that isn’t what I mean. I don’t have reservations. It’s just that I want you to be happy. I want you to get everything you want out of life, and I’m not sure I can provide that.”
“So, are you telling me you don’t have a crystal ball tucked away in your briefcase? Professor, I am so disappointed to find that out. I’m not sure I know how I feel about you now.”
“You’re being sarcastic.”
She laughed. “You think so? Professor, I know the future is uncertain. That’s the fun of it. I’m not asking for a life that unfolds on some predetermined script. I’m a scientist, remember? I love the process of discovery.”
Peregrine looked down at the book he had in his lap. He hesitated but then decided it was best to just get it out there.
“What if I wasn’t a professor?”
“What? I already told you, I’m not interested in you because of your status. I find you fascinating as a person.”
“But you like to call me Professor.”
“Yes, as a term of endearment.”
“But what if I really wasn’t a professor?”
“Wait… so you are being serious. You mean what if you resigned?”
“Or what if I got fired? What if I was unemployed? What if I had to invent a whole new career?”
“What if the world went through an extinction-level event tomorrow?” She asked.
“How is that relevant?”
“I would still want to be with you, Peregrine. If there was a meteor destined to hit in twenty-four hours, I would want to be with you. If I knew I was going to live to be one hundred years old, I would want to be with you.”
Peregrine felt his heart swell. “No matter what?”
“No matter what.”
“I… I love you, Dove.”
“I love you, too, Professor.”
“I can’t see a way that we can be together, if I continue to work on staff at the institute.”
“I don’t want you to have to quit on my account.”
“I would leave that job this moment, if I could be with you.”
“Then leave the job this moment.”
He looked at her, the essence of everything beautiful. Not just her physical beauty. She was a beautiful person. A lovely person. And loving. He knew in his heart that he could not live without her.
“Professor?”
“Yes?”
“Let’s just assume for the moment that we’re in agreement we are going to travel together into the future. If you give up your position at IMT, what do you want out of life?”
John knelt in the front pew of the darkened church. Twenty or thirty little red votive candles were flickering and winking, tangible symbols of living, lively prayers dancing before the Lord. John gazed at the tabernacle, the large red candle above, a steady, unwavering flame hovering, a sign of God’s eternal presence and surety. It was a night to complete all nights.
In over forty years of living, fourteen years ministering as a priest, countless nights staring up at star-filled skies, celebrating thousands of sacraments, only one other time had he ever felt something quite like this. At his ordination, he felt as though he was transported for a moment into another dimension, separate from all the other people in attendance, and experienced a oneness with the Creator that was beyond description. This was similar. A similar connectedness. A moment of suspension of self, where his spirit overflowed the mortal boundary and strained upward. God was above. Below. Beside. Within. It was an excruciating ecstasy.
He could not find words. His spirit groaned, straining to express his gratitude for the privilege of witnessing such a miracle. In the silence and privacy of the confessional, he had been present and participant as the Holy Spirit of the one true God reached down and plucked out of the jaws of darkness and despair, the soul of a young man. It was astounding. If he never saw another blessed moment in his mortal life, it would not matter.
He had witnessed the true power and miracle of God’s salvation. In that one instant, when the dam broke, when Perry’s resistance finally crumbled, when the torrent of the Father’s love washed over the young man, John understood all of salvation history in a fresh new way. It was as though the ceiling of the small room opened up, and all of heaven rushed in. Adam, Eve, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Elijah, Saul, David, Solomon, every saint, prophet, and martyr across the ancient ages, pointing forward to the culmination of everything, which was heralded in that moment of bewilderment encountered by a young virgin at the angel’s annunciation, the astonished awakening of a foster father in his dreams, a mother’s anguish at the foot of the cross, and her awe at the resurrection; all of that was present in the sacred moment, not a series of events, but one great, whole and perfect event, envisioned, initiated and lovingly directed by the hand of God Himself. It was then, and has always been, witnessed and testified to by the whole communion of saints and angels. In that silent moment, a great hymn rose and swelled, unattainable to human ears, but unmistakable to immortal spirits.
John was completely spent. These past weeks of fear, dread, and confusion, all those moments feeling out of control, insufficient to the task, tempted by the flesh, reviled by detractors, resolved in a moment of tearful release. He loved Perry as an older brother loves a younger. He saw past the rags, the grime, and now, in his mind’s eye, John could see an image of Perry standing with arms raised, adorned in a dazzling white robe, a pure light shining around him, his face luminous with the light’s warmth and glory. John was full. He was a man pushing back at the end of a great feast. He could not contain another morsel.
Lord, he prayed. I’m sorry I ever doubted. I give myself over to you, completely. And yet, I ask one more thing. Grant me the grace to be content. To never ask another thing from you. Grant that I may trust in you from this day forward, without reservation.
He heard a noise and opened his eyes. There, between him and the flickering votives, a young man standing motionless, looking at him. John wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“Amadeus? Is that you? The young man nodded. He looked like he may have been weeping.
“Father… I need your help.”
A New Beginning.
Thank you for reading Three To One. Perry, Peregrine, and Amadeus will return in the next book, Without End. If you enjoyed this reading experience, please go online and post a positive review. It is the best thing you can do to help other readers find this series.
Other Titles by T.S. Epperson
Thank you again, for reading the second book in this series, Three To One.
In this modern era, reviews make the world go around. If you have the charity within you, please go online and post a few encouraging words. That will help other readers find this story, and empower the author to publish more works. Thank you again.
You are invited to read the other books in “The Other Side of Dead” Series:
Unto Ash
The Other Side of Dead, a Short Prequel
Available as a free download at: www.BookHip.com/MKAXXMZ
Once To Die
The Other Side of Dead, book 1
Three To One
The Other Side of Dead, book 2
Without End
Coming Spring of 2023
The Other Side of Dead, book 3
Judgement Day
Coming Summer of 2023
The Other Side of Dead book 4
For other titles and collaborations by T.S. Epperson, go to Multivalentpress.com/T.S.Epperson
About the Author
T.S. Epperson is a pen name for Tom Epperson, a respectful nod to one of his literary heroes, T.S. Eliot.
Everyone is on a unique journey. Tom was born the seventh of twelve siblings. He was an altar boy beginning at age seven, and a bar band musician beginning at age eight. His childhood was a happy rhythm of walking to daily Mass in the mornings, and participating in music rehearsals in the evenings. On Friday and Saturday nights he closed down the bars with the band and then served or attended Mass again Sunday morning.
His life has been and still is, a constant effort to balance the worldly with the spiritual, as his writing reflects. He is fascinated by colorful, complex characters, and has had the privilege and challenge of interacting with many along the way. Tom is a hopeless optimist and a romantic realist. He is the proud father of two adult sons, the finest of the finest, and lives in South Carolina with his wife, who is his companion in a sweeping time travel adventure. So far, they have traveled nearly four and a half decades. Together, they strive to live more in the present than in the past, and his favorite thing in life is to stand in salt water and teach his grandchildren how to lure exotic creatures from the sea.
Acknowledgements
Creating and publishing a novel requires a team, as mentioned in the first book. Here, I want to thank the fine priests, sisters, and bishops I have known, for their example and their teaching, and the many devout and caring lay people who inspired me and befriended me.
I thank my mom, my most influential spiritual mentor, and my dad, who grappled with spirituality with an honesty that surpassed many of the named Christians I have known. I want to express my deep gratitude to my broad and diverse family, as they all had a hand in forming me, and encouraging my creativity throughout my life.
I especially thank my beautiful wife, who patiently walked with me through the ups and downs that accompany a creative project of this scope. It is a difficult thing to fix yourself at the side of a creative person as they chase after dreams and visions of what could be. She is the love of my life, my forever friend.
