65

            In light, late-morning traffic that metro Atlanta enjoyed only on weekends, Lisa drove to the address in Stone Mountain, a forty-five minute trip from Kennesaw.  Anthony sat in the passenger seat, the Bible open on his lap, and explained to her his theory about Bob’s intended message to them based on the verse in Genesis. 

            “God, I hope you’re wrong,” she said when he finished.  “But it’s such an awful possibility it has to be right.  It explains so much.”

            “Including, maybe, why they killed my dad.”  His gut was as tight as a drum; the prospect of learning the truth at last had virtually given him a stomach ache of anticipation.  “It’s not going to be an easy conversation with Danny.  But it’s long overdue.”  

            He also searched out the other scriptures marked in yellow.  As he located each one, he folded back the top corner of the page, for quick reference afterward, and read the passage aloud to Lisa.

            “After the verse in Genesis, the next one is from second Samuel, chapter four, verse seven,” he said.  “It says, ‘For when they came into the house, he lay on his bed in his bedchamber, and they smote him, and slew him, and beheaded him, and took his head, and gat them away through the plain all night. ‘ “

            “What the heck does that mean?” She glanced away from the road with a frown.

            “Don’t know.  But it’s damn violent.  Like something I would’ve written.”

            “We’ll have to chew on that one for a while.”

            He licked his finger, flipped forward in the book.  “The next one is from Nehemiah, ninth chapter, thirty-fifth verse.  ‘ For they have not served thee in their kingdom, and in thy great goodness that thou gavest them, and in the large and fat land which thou gavest before them, neither turned they from their wicked works.’ “

            “That reads like an accusation directed at New Kingdom,” she said.  “They have great resources, but do wicked works.”

            “Power corrupts,” he said.  “According to what Bob told me, they’ve committed every crime under the sun.”

            “Any more?” she asked. 

            “Let’s see.”  He searched, found another passage.  “Jeremiah, twenty-third chapter, fourteenth verse. ‘I have seen also in the prophets of Jerusalem an horrible thing: they commit adultery, and walk in lies: they strengthen also the hands of evildoers, that none doth return from his wickedness; they are all of them unto me as Sodom, and the inhabitants thereof as Gomorrah.’ “

            “Sounds like a reference to Bishop Prince,” she said.

            “The self-proclaimed prophet?  Who walks in lies and encourages evildoers?”

            “And commits adultery,” she said, with a disgusted grimace. 

            Thinking of the interpretation at which they’d arrived about the bishop, Anthony felt a little ill, too. 

            “Next is Micah, chapter two, verse one,” he said.  “‘Woe to them that devise iniquity, and work evil upon their beds! When the morning is light, they practice it, because it is in the power of their hand.’ “

            “Could be a generalized indictment of evil people,” she said. 

            “Very generalized.  Too generalized for Bob to have included it, unless he wants us to interpret it some other way.”

            “Let’s table that one for further consideration.”  She slowed the car as they approached a traffic light.  “Is this our turn?”

            “Yeah, make a right,” he said, and lowered his head to the book again.  He flipped through pages.  “Okay, found another one.  John, chapter eight, verse thirty-two.  ‘And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.’ “

            “When you find the truth, you’ll be free, baby,” she said.  “You’ll be free of the weight you’ve carried on your shoulders all these years.  You’ll have closure.”

            “I want justice,” he said.  “It’s not enough to simply know the truth.  I have to do something about it.”

            “We will,” she said.  “Is that the last one?  It sounded like a closing statement.”

            “Hang on.”  He riffled through more text.  “Wait.  Galatians, chapter four, verse sixteen. ‘Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth?’ “

            “I don’t understand that,” she said.  “Bob is your enemy?”

            “It’s the last verse marked in yellow.”  He closed the Bible, clasped it in his lap.  “I’ve gotta think on it.”

            “That gives us three scriptures we’ll have to review later,” she said.  “The rest are clear, relatively speaking.”

            “The others we think are puzzling might actually be clear, too.  Bob’s plan is too important—he couldn’t risk us drawing the wrong conclusions.  I’m thinking we’ve got to take a step back and view the scriptures in the context of what we’ve learned.  Much easier said than done, though.”

            “He couldn’t have picked a better book for hiding a message, that’s for sure,” she said.  “Show a Bible passage to ten different theologians and ask them what they think it means, and you’ll get ten different interpretations.”

            “That’s why I hated Sunday school,” he said.  “My take on things was usually different than the teacher’s, but they would say I was misinterpreting the text.”

            “It’s not like math,” she said.  “There are no definitive answers.”             

            “I sure could use a definitive answer right now.  We think we know what the bishop has done, but we still don’t know where Bob has hidden all his damning evidence.  Or if he really has any.”

            “He does,” she said.  “We’ll figure it out.”

            He looked up at the road.  “Hey, our street’s coming up.  Make a left.”