Chapter Three
Bane awoke with an empty booze bottle in his hand, a spilled glass of the amber liquid on the floor, and his television on a Christian station with a preacher speaking about the Word of God. Confused and groggy he rummaged for the remote in his chair stabbing buttons when he dug it out until the giant screen went black. He stared at the bottle still gripped in his hand and huffed, his thoughts finally beginning to clear and he pitched the empty shell in the trash. The dream; the woods, the stranger, the whole thing was nothing more than a head full of scotch and a nap in front of the TV with the Jesus freak channel on, he must have rolled over on the stupid remote; no way he’d be watching that load of... even in his ‘relaxed’ state. Maybe he should back off the hard stuff for a while or at least not drain the bottle. That wasn’t such a pleasant rabbit hole to fall into.
As he turned to leave his study the phone on his desk rang sending a slight stab of pain through his head. Yes, he still had his land line as well as his cell. Between either forgetting to charge the stupid things, usually while drinking or some other recreational activity, or just plain losing them only God knew where over the years, abandoning the old fashioned home phone wasn’t the best of ideas. Another jarring ring, this had to end. “Hello?”
“Bane, it’s Larry. What’s up buddy, I heard about your exit yesterday and I must say you have us all a bit concerned.”
It was his manager, good old Lawrence Jorgensen. This man could get him into, and out of, almost anything. Bane didn’t know how he did it, but if there was a Devil, Larry probably knew him personally and he’d told him that many times. “Yeah, about that I was going to call. Don’t worry you can put the Prince of Darkness on hold it’s nothing serious; just a touch of flu. Chills, throat problems, fever, you know no biggie. I took some medicine already and I’m feeling much better today. I’ll rest my voice and continue to medicate for a couple of days and I’ll be fine.”
“You sure? There’s no harm getting some antibiotics or flu shots or something. I could arrange whatever you need.”
“You don’t take antibiotics for the flu and the shots only work to prevent it not cure you.”
“Whatever, they have shots and pills for everything now including the flu. I’m sure we can find something to get you through this; you know tide you over?”
Good old Larry. “Yeah I get it, and I’m touched that you care so much about my wellbeing, but I’m fine. I’m taking care of it. If I think I need something you’re the first person I’ll call alright?”
There was silence on the other end and he knew Larry was thinking it over. “Yeah alright. So I can tell Tate that everything’s still on schedule and that you’ll be back in what two three days at most?”
“At most.”
“And you’ll keep me informed.”
“Don’t I always?”
Jorgensen groaned. Of course he didn’t keep him informed that was part of the fun of it.
“Get some rest. I’ll keep checking in on you.”
“Yes mom.”
Jorgensen responded with phrases his mother would never in her life used on the worst days and he chuckled as he hung up, but the laughter quickly faded as the truth about the day before sunk its claws into him. The chills, the heat, the throat problems, it had all happened, but it was no flu. A knot formed in his gut as he began to hum a few notes and to his surprise his voice did fine. He sang a quick verse of ‘Jingle Bells’ and that worked too, but as soon as he opened his mouth to sing one of his own songs his throat closed and he shuddered.
His heart sped up and a slight trickle of sweat traced down his temple as Bane picked up the remote and flipped to a music video station seeing only the grey snow of static. He flipped to another; the same. He had never hoped there was something wrong with his satellite so hard in his life as he flipped to one of his youngests’ kiddie stations. Bright colored characters bounced around the screen doing stupid ticks and playing pranks on each other. He swore and flipped to the pay channels; only a couple worked, then the adult stations; nothing but static on every channel. He stared at the screen, body trembling uncontrollably as he noticed something lying just beneath the snow. That same TV preacher holding up his Bible as the words, “Go to the Word of God” echoed in his ears.
Disgusted and terrified he crossed to his bar, desperate to drown out everything. His hands shook as he sloshed the expensive scotch into a clean crystal glass spilling it all over his mahogany bar, but as he raised it to his lips the burning flared again and he dropped the glass as if it had been a hot coal quickly backing away from it, eyes wide. This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening! ‘Go to the Word of God’ echoed in his brain and he clamped his hands to his temples staggering towards the door. He had no idea where he was going when he grabbed his keys from the bowl on the foyer table and slid behind the wheel of his car, or whether he was going to something or just attempting to flee. All he knew was that he had to go, he had to drive. Right turns, left turns, they all seemed totally random until he found that he had pulled into the parking lot of a large retail book store.
He stood beside his car staring up at the massive three story building of windows filled with signs and posters of sales and the popular items held inside and knew he was where he was supposed to be before walking like a zombie into the nearly empty store. It was early in the day in the middle of the week and like most retail stores held only a few customers. At first this eased the tension in his mind, he didn’t know exactly why he was here although a niggling in his mind told him the reason; a reason he refused to consider. The less people around the less to see him; getting it. Then again the less people that were around, the more the few who were there would focus on him.
Bane casually walked through the book shelves and around the gift items and games refusing to head anywhere near where his body was trying to go while throwing every excuse into the mix he could think of.
‘I could just order one.’
‘You need it now.’
‘I could download one.’
‘You’d never read it, you don’t like using eBooks.’
‘I tried it before and it didn’t work couldn’t understand the stupid thing, won’t be any different. What’s the point, it would just be a waste of money.’
‘There are other translations and I’ll be with you to teach you.’ and before he knew it he was standing in front of the religious section with rows of Bibles from every possible version and translation available, feeling lost and drowning in a sea of options.
“Kind of difficult figuring out which one isn’t it?”
“Huh?” Beside him was a short thin woman with long soft brown hair with a vest and a tag bearing the stores emblem and the name ‘Lanie’, “Yeah it’s a bit overwhelming.”
“Is this your first one?”
“My first one?”
“Bible?”
“Uh, no. I had one when I was younger, but...”
“King James?”
“What, oh yeah. King James version.”
“The wording and the poetry is absolutely beautiful and it really touches the spirit, but it’s a bit difficult to understand and put into everyday situations I’ve found.”
“Tell me about it.” He said more to himself than to her.
“Well, if you’re looking for some everyday answers to what’s been going on in your life I’d suggest this.” and the woman pulled a thick hard back book from the multitude and handed it to him. “It’s a bit big I know, but that’s because it has four versions of the Bible side by side including the original King James, that way you can find the verses that you’re familiar with and be able to read what they are in modern English. Plus the notes at the bottom of each page help you to understand the context. It really opens up your understanding.”
Bane looked at the colorful cover with catching graphics and flipped through the pages with its color coding and side notes and felt an energy surge through him. “Yeah, this should do
, I’m mean it should be fine for the research I need to do for a project that is.” Doing his best to feign indifference.
“Of course. I’m sure it will give you what you need.”
Still flipping through the book eyes scanning the pages he barely heard her, “Yeah, thanks...” but she was gone. Looking back at the page he had stopped on his eyes fell to Matthew 7:7-8… seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened. He knew into the very core of him that he indeed held what he needed in his hands.
It still wasn’t easy, although he knew in his heart that he needed this book more than anything he’d yet needed in his life, he still felt every other part of him struggling to leave it behind and walk out the door. The idea of Bane Bronson standing in line at a book store to purchase a Bible while patrons and the store clerk looked on was part humiliating and part infuriating. He’d never cared much for his reputation before, but this seemed different somehow. He could just see the headlines now, ‘Bane Bronson hypocrite goes soft turning Bible thumper at local book store.’ It was almost more than he could take, but he did it. Without a word or even a sideways glance at the people around him he laid down the cash, not wanting a paper record of his purchase on his banking records and left the store. Before he knew it he was sitting in his Mercedes in the parking lot with a bag containing the Bible in his hands. All his life he had seen the Bible as a book full of rules and laws and a cruel vengeful God that would tear you to pieces if you didn’t fit his perfect little mold. Don’t do this, don’t do that, all in the form of Thou shalt nots and at one point this one book held everything he was against, but now it held him as tight as he held it.
Slowly he slid it from the plastic bag and peered at the eye catching cover, lightly brushing it with his fingers remembering another Bible from a long time ago. This one wasn’t like his dad’s, nothing like the plain faux leather one with simple gold lettering of ‘Holy Bible’, just like the one he had all those years ago. The one he threw at his father the day he walked out on him and left home forever. The memory was painful more than he wanted to admit especially now and he slid the book back into the bag catching sight of his tattoos covering nearly every inch of his arm. Some were simply beautiful works of artistry or signs of his devotion and love to his family, but others were defiant, vulgar, and blasphemous and for the first time he was ashamed of them and of himself.
He drove home in silence not daring to turn on the radio, his mind flashing on his youth and what he had read in the Bible standing in the bookstore aisle, but his mind couldn’t make sense of it all. On one side was all the fairy tale stuff about global floods, an arc that killed you if you touched it, forbidden trees and talking snakes, men living inside a whale, about plagues and slaves, lions dens, giants, talking donkeys, pregnant virgins, possessions, resurrections, and exploding cities. On the other hand there was Jesus, a man even scientists and historians admit, sometimes begrudgingly, actually existed in some way, a man that Bane had even seen. If one part was just bedtime stories than so was the other, but there was still the other option... if it was true than all was true. God was real, Jesus had really died for him and rose from the grave three days later, Heaven was real, Hell was just as real as Heaven and so was Satan, and if Satan was real than Bane had been.... His mind slammed shut, refusing to let the thought of his own responsibility and accountability come to the surface. It didn’t have to be so black and white, many tales are based on some sort of fact. So what if there was a man named Jesus back then, and so what if he taught about loving thy neighbor or keeping your hands off other people’s stuff including their wives. It made for a great story and some one knew enough to cash in on it. Throw in a bunch of fantastical adventures and you have yourself a bestseller.
He pulled into the circular drive nosing the sedan into the multicar garage with the rest of his collection and grabbed the bag from the passenger seat, sliding it under his shirt and tucking it as best he could into his waistband so no one could see it. Funny; had it been a dirty magazine or video he would have simply strutted right in without a care, but a Bible he hid like a child trying to sneak his report card past his parents. Bane unlocked the door and slowly cracked it open peering in for anyone that might be too close then called out for signs of life, but was met with only a slight echo. Satisfied that he was alone and safe from prying eyes he walked to the kitchen for a beer slipping his purchase from under his clothes and onto the counter, but as he lifted the bottle to his lips the memory of the scotch still sitting on his custom bar came back to him and his eyes fell on the book; he put the beer back down suddenly not so thirsty.
A wave of frustration engulfed him, he couldn’t even enjoy a simple beer in his own home, his own refuge and he snatched the thing off the counter practically stomping to his study and slamming the book down on a side table. Out of sight out of mind and he turned away heading to the furthest part of the house with the loudest distraction he could find, but as he closed the door he felt a pull from the room behind him and the contents of that bag. Bane stepped back into his study closing the door and walked to the table almost hypnotically, picking up the plastic sack and sliding out the ultimate of books that was inside. The bag fell forgotten to the floor while his finger traced the image of the cross on one corner of the cover, his feet moving of their own volition as he rounded one of the custom leather wing back chairs and sat down cracking the cover. He flipped past the first few pages with all the copyrights and instructions for pronunciations and reading tips and started at the beginning of everything.
Hours passed by as he absorbed chapter after chapter of Genesis then moved on to Exodus before he heard his wife Shaylon calling for him, but he still could not tear his eyes from the pages in front of him. Some of it he remembered from his youth and stories that most everyone in the United States had heard of at one point in time in their life, but most of it was new and exciting and more than a little confusing. Even though he couldn’t comprehend the words on the pages at times and had to reread several passages over again to wrap his mind around them he still could not bring himself to stop reading.