EIGHT LIES (About the Truth): A collection of short stories (13 page)

4:

DANIEL PLAYED IT TWICE OVER
in his mind until he was sure he’d heard it correctly. A defensive snort escaped before he could rein it in. He followed with, “My uncle is a
con man
.”

Father Nick held up his hands. “I know. I know, and that makes you perfect for it. You’re the best debunker in the business,
and
you know his particular tricks.” He picked up a television remote from the desktop. “Have you seen his show recently?”

“It’s been a while,” Daniel said.

Nick aimed the remote at a wide, flat-panel television perched on the antique credenza, and the screen came on blue. He pressed another button, and the blue screen was replaced by video of the
Tim Trinity Prosperity-Power Miracle Hour
. “This was taped last week,” he said.

On the screen, Reverend Tim Trinity stalked the stage like a large predatory cat, right to left, left to right, pausing occasionally to connect with the camera, never fully at rest. The stage was dressed up like a pulpit, complete with faux stained glass windows (backlit, of course), balsawood columns painted to look like mahogany, and a clear Plexiglas lectern, downstage-center. Trinity wore a royal blue silk suit, white leather cowboy boots and matching belt. On his left wrist, a chunky gold Rolex, its face wall-to-wall diamonds. A wireless microphone curved around from his right ear, like he was God’s own telemarketer. On his right hand he balanced an open Bible, its pages edged in silver, its cover made of fine leather, dyed blue, the same bright shade as his suit.

Daniel wondered if the suit had been selected to match the Bible or the Bible to match the suit.

Trinity spoke with a pronounced New Orleans accent, and his patter flowed like brandy, perfected over more than twenty-five years on the tent revival circuit and in churches, then on television for the last fourteen. The man had his act down cold—didn’t even need the Bible, but for its value as a prop. And that was no small value. He brandished his blue Bible to maximum effect, flipped pages with a flourish, and punctuated important words by
thwacking
the pages with his left hand, calling attention to the bling on his wrist with each
thwack.

“Friends, I have some very bad news for you,” said Trinity, still smiling. “I’ve been called upon this day to reveal a hard truth. And I ain’t gonna sugar-coat it—
thwack—
NO, sir! I’m here today to tell you, most people who call themselves Christians have a fundamental
mis
-understanding of the nature of
sin
.” He stretched it into a two-syllable word.

Trinity stopped at the lectern. His eyes fell shut and he pulled his chin to the right, offering his profile as the camera cut to a close-up. He held the Bible to his forehead for a few seconds, then lowered it, faced forward, and opened his now watery eyes, blinking rapidly. A man of God, on the verge of tears.

“Forgive me. I must share with you what happened last night as I prepared today’s sermon. I was sitting in my study, pen in hand, and the Devil came calling. Yes, the—
thwack
—Devil! The Devil came to me last night and said, ‘Reverend Tim, stop what you’re doing.’ He said, ‘The people are not ready for this, you must not reveal it. Seal up these things and do not write them.’ Oh yes, and he presented himself to me as an angel of the Lord…but you and I know that the Lord would never stop a prophet from speaking the truth. So I said, ‘Get behind me, Satan!’ and his white robes fell away and he stood before me as a naked beast.” Trinity blew out a long breath. “Was I afraid? You know it, brother! You bet I was. But more than afraid, I was—and I know that it wasn’t me speaking, but for the power of Christ, I know it was God speaking through me—I stood up from my desk and I shouted, ‘You Devil, go straight back to Hell! Take one step closer and I will
strike
you down—” Trinity slashed at an imaginary devil with his Bible, “—and I will
kick
you down—” he stomped hard on the stage, “—and I will beat you like a red-headed stepchild!”

Daniel had seen his uncle’s act thousands of times and had hoped never to see it again. “What’s the point of this, Nick?”

Nick kept his eyes on the television. “Keep watching.”

Trinity held the Bible to his chest. “And just like that—glory be to God—the Devil disappeared, leaving behind only the stench of a goat.” He smiled and waved away the stench with the Good Book, and the camera cut away to the congregation as they laughed on cue.

It was not the megachurch of a Joel Osteen or Creflo Dollar, but Trinity’s flock was not small. Daniel estimated about five thousand in attendance, give or take a few lost souls.

Trinity let the laughter play out just the right length of time, then turned serious. “I know in my heart, my life was saved last night. Saved by God, so I could bring you this truth about
sin
. See, most folks think sin is bad behavior. You break God’s laws, and you have committed sin. But that is a
mis
-understanding of sin’s true nature. Those bad behaviors are not sin, not in the true sense. They are the
result
of sin. Sin is not something you do. In reality, sin is a
demonic force
that acts upon you,
causing
you to break God’s laws.”

Trinity flipped a few pages and glanced at his Bible. “Romans
3
:
9
—we are under the
power
of sin,
6
:
6
and
6
:
17
—we are
enslaved
by sin, and
5
:
13
—‘sin was in the world before the law.’” He waved a finger in the air and grinned like Clarence Darrow on closing summation to the jury, knowing he’d proved his case. “In the world,
before
the law. If sin was in the world before the law, then it is not caused by breaking the law, it
precedes
the law. You see? Sin is a
demonic force
that has power over us, enslaves us, and causes us to break God’s laws. Get back, Devil! Powers and principalities!” Trinity swatted the air again with his Bible. “Glory to God, I am telling the
truth
today! Sin is a demonic force that causes
all
our suffering.”

Pacing the stage again. “People ask me, they say, ‘Reverend Tim, do you mean that poverty is a sin?’—
thwack
—YES! Poverty is a sin. God don’t want you to be poor of spirit, and He don’t want you to be poor of material comforts. God loves you—why would He want you to suffer? And poverty
is
suffering. Only the Devil wants you to be poor.” The toothy smile flooded his face once more. “But here is the good news: If you
really
want to live in abundance—abundance is yours for the taking! Word of God. All you have to do is act
in faith
. When you act in faith, God will return it to you
one-hundred-fold
. But you must sow your seed, or you cannot expect to reap the harvest of God’s riches.”

Trinity stopped pacing, dropped the smile, looked straight into the camera lens. “I’m calling on you,
right now
, to make a thousand-dollar vow of faith to this television ministry. You know who you are—I’m
talking
to you. You don’t have a thousand dollars right now, in the material world, but that’s okay—you
vow
it, and you start
paying
on it, in faith, fifty dollars, a hundred dollars, two hundred dollars, five hundred dollars at a time…and as you pay on your vow, God will take the measure of your faith, and He will begin to work
miracles
in your life! Word of
God!
Hallelujah!
”

Father Nick lowered the volume as Trinity assured viewers they could use any major credit card to sow their seeds of faith. “You know him better than anyone,” he said and gestured at the screen.

“
Knew
him,” said Daniel. “Twenty years ago.”

“Just tell me what you see.”

“I don’t see anything. It’s the same old snake oil, and he still sells the crap out of it. Just a fancier package…nicer suit, bigger watch, better hairdo. The man knows his scripture, and the way he twists it, it always comes out
Send Me Money
. That’s all I see.” He searched for something else to say. What
did
he see? “He’s got a lot more followers now. Oh, and he’s had a facelift.”

“Really?”

“He’s sixty-four, and he’s a drinker. He’s had a facelift.”

“What else?”

Then it hit him. “Ah, he’s not speaking in tongues anymore. He used to sprinkle a lot of gibberish in with the rest of the pitch.”

“Watch.” Nick paused the video. “He still does the tongues routine, but not as often. And it’s different now.” He hit play.

Trinity continued his money pitch for another minute or two. Then he froze, mid-sentence, like an epileptic having a
petit mal
seizure. He stood stock-still for a few seconds. Then his lips began to twitch. His entire body lurched to the left. Then jerked again, harder, like he’d just stuck his finger in a light socket.

And the tongues began. It was still gibberish, but Nick was right—it had changed. The tongues that Trinity used to speak sounded like a bad parody of some West African language, spiced with a little Japanese inflection. But what Daniel heard now was very different. The sounds coming from Trinity’s mouth were not like any language Daniel had ever heard. In fact, like
nothing
he’d ever heard. He couldn’t even imagine how to make them.

Father Nick shut off the television. “What do you think?”

“It’s different, all right,” said Daniel. “Very dramatic. Weird. I don’t know how he does it.”

“It goes way beyond just sounding weird,” said Father Nick. He put on his reading glasses and moved a thick file folder to the center of his desk blotter, then reached for the telephone. “Here’s where it gets
really
weird.”

Advance praise for

“
The Trinity Game
takes the reader on the wildest of rides, from a fabulous and truly diabolical premise to a shattering finale that will leave you gasping for breath. This is one hell of a good thriller.”

—Douglas Preston, #
1
bestselling author of
Blasphemy
and
The Monster of Florence

“
The Trinity Game
is a rare find. I loved it from the start, couldn’t put it down, and was sorry to see it end. You have got to read this book!”

—Marcia Clark, NYT bestselling author of
Guilt By Association

“A gripping take on the religious thriller. Smart, compelling, and page-turning,
The Trinity Game
is both entertaining and thought-provoking suspense.”

—Jeff Abbott, NYT bestselling author of
The Last Minute

“
The Da Vinci Code
meets
The Dead Zone
in
The Trinity Game
, a fascinating thriller that catapults us headlong into Vatican intrigue, global conspiracies, complex family relationships, and nonstop excitement.”

—Joseph Finder, NYT bestselling author of
Paranoia
and
Buried Secrets

“Chercover’s fast, engrossing, and original tale will restore your faith that something new and exciting is being brought to the crime novel.”

—Linwood Barclay, International bestselling author of
The Accident

“Sean Chercover shows a stellar hand through a coiling plot, weaving one taut drama. Tense, intelligent, harsh, and surprising – this one goes on your keeper shelf.”

—Steve Berry, NYT bestselling author of
The
Columbus Affair

“
The Trinity Game
swept me up from page one. High octane and thought provoking—a powerful combination.”

—Meg Gardiner, Edgar Award winning author of
Ransom River

or click to
Sean Chercover at Amazon