Fireproof (25 page)

"Are you a Satanist?"

"I'm not sure. Mike has never asked me to officially become a member or anything but I do think his teachings make a lot of sense. I suspect that I'm more of a follower of Mike than a follower of Satan. I think most of his disciples are too."

"And does Mr Rocks believe in Satan or is he just gathering an army of malcontents?"

"Mike has no choice but to believe in Satan, or Lucifer as Mike usually calls him. Mike has met him you see."

"Mr Rocks has met Lucifer? Where? In a dream?"

"No. Mike's been to Hell a few times. He was personally selected for this work."

"You aren't talking metaphorically, are you?"

"No."

The bishop sat back in his chair. Cathy couldn't read his expression as he rubbed his mouth. Cathy realised that her habit was still doing nothing for her modesty and she adjusted the material to cover her legs again. The bishop blinked and licked his lips and for a second Cathy thought that there was still a chance that she could seduce him. Then she realised that he was thinking of another temptation. The bishop opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of Black Bush whiskey. He poured a healthy shot into a cracked mug that he'd pulled from the same drawer.

"Would you like a little pick-me-up?"

Aware that it was still not noon, Cathy declined politely. The bishop drank greedily and poured another shot into the cup. He sloshed the brown liquid around for a few seconds then looked at Cathy.

"I'd like to summarise things the way I see them at the minute. If anything I say is inaccurate, please feel free to correct me."

Cathy nodded and the bishop continued.

"Mike Rocks believes that he has been to Hell and that Lucifer has sent him back to Earth to spread a new religion devoted to Satanism. During his time, as Lucifer's representative, he has been rumoured to have committed suicide and returned from the dead to continue his work. He has worked his magic with local hoodlums, middleclass teenagers from the more affluent areas in Belfast and God knows how many more little cliques and gangs. He now wants the Catholic Church to endorse this charade as a new religion and a legitimate alternative to our own teachings?"

The bishop took a sip from his mug of whiskey as he waited for Cathy to verify his summation.

"At a very basic level, that's correct."

"I can see why he thought blackmail would be his best approach."

The old bishop chuckled and took another drink from the mug. He topped it up again. Cathy admired his heroic consumption of the Irish poison.

"What's your real name, dear?"

"Cathy."

"What do you think of his work so far, Cathy?"

"To be honest with you, it seems to have a positive effect on most of the people who take it seriously. I've seen complete wastes of space clean up their act and take an interest in themselves and in what Mike has to offer. I think it's by-the-by that the religion is in the name of the traditional bad guy. It's given a lot of these teenagers and adults something to believe in and find guidance by."

"They could get that from Catholicism too."

"But they don't believe they can. I think that a lot of them could believe they've burned their bridges. If they're too tainted for God then the most logical place to turn to is Hell."

"You raise an interesting point, Cathy. These people have found a path that focuses them on spirituality without a feeling of unworthiness. They know that they'll be accepted because impurity is good. If you can't be pure then don't strive to be. I do think it is flawed though."

"Well, all religions are flawed. Anything ruled by humanity has to be imperfect because humans are imperfect."

"Quite, but the flaw I can see may put many people off this new religion."

"So what is it?"

"Well, the founder and leader is obviously insane. The whole thing sounds like one of those American cults you read about in the paper. He enlisted vulnerable teenagers. He makes impossible claims, whether he believes them to be true or not. He is using charisma and the promise of a fast track salvation to increase his numbers. In short, most right-minded people will see him as a charlatan instantly."

"I think Mike's recognised that."

"And so, here you are. Rub shoulders with one of the big boys and people might take you seriously. He certainly doesn't lack ambition."

Cathy felt she owed it to Mike to try and convince the bishop that Mike was not crazy and had indeed been to Hell and back, more than once. The thing was, she could see how ludicrous the whole notion was. How could she expect a man of the cloth, especially one who seemed somewhat jaded, to believe such a tall tale? Did she truly believe it herself? When she was on her own, usually at night in bed, doubt crept in. In Mike's presence she seemed to care little for logic and believed anything the man told her, but was that just his charm? Did he have a hypnotic influence over people? She wished Mike was in the room. She would be so much more comfortable if he was fighting his own corner. She would be confident that everything was true. She wouldn't feel like the bishop was making more sense than Mike.

As if he had sensed her distress, Mike opened the door to the bishop's chamber at least ten minutes sooner than he and Cathy had agreed on their way up the road. He did not seem surprised to find that the bishop was not panting at Cathy's feet, begging to be sinful with her. It was not his style to eavesdrop. Something else must have set off warning alarms.

"Mr Rocks. I'm glad you returned. Cathy and myself were having a very interesting conversation. I think she may have been a little uncomfortable talking about you behind your back though. I was just about to suggest she call you in."

Mike nodded and sat in a chair next to Cathy. He gave her a smile that let her know everything was all right. He was not one bit worried to have entered a scene that was not going as it had been rehearsed. She wanted to kiss him, but decided against it. There would be time for that kind of thing later.

"Well you know what they say, bishop. Speak of the Devil and he shall appear."

The bishop laughed out loud. His cheeks glowed with whiskey rouge.

"Very good, Mr Rocks. Your charm is without bounds."

"Well, I hope that will further prove to be the case. I can see that I'm not going to get what I want from you through dirty tricks. Perhaps that's best. But I won't leave this place until I'm satisfied I tried everything I could to get your grunt of approval."

The doubts in Cathy's mind dissipated as she listened to Mike. He was a filter. He kept practicality, reality and pessimism at bay. She could believe anything in his presence. She barely remembered what it was about Mike's past she had even begun to doubt earlier. Of course he had come back from Hell. Who would lie about something as unbelievable as that? Certainly not someone like Mike. If he needed to lie, he would tell a story that could not be doubted. She was embarrassed that a half-drunk bishop had almost talked her out of her beliefs.

The drunken bishop was not a bad man. He had honoured his vow of celibacy even though a very attractive nun had thrown herself at him. He was still willing to listen to Mike even though he'd tried to trick him. Mike had to admire that.

Mike had returned to the chamber in the hopes that the bishop wouldn't have been tempted by Cathy at that point. He'd had second thoughts about his sneaky plan. He'd been open with everyone else he'd approached and met with success. It seemed unfair to trick the bishop in such a manner, whatever his view of the Catholic Church may be.

"Well then, Mr Rocks, state your case. You've caught me in a good mood, so I'll keep an open mind."

"I appreciate that, bishop. I'll approach this in a businesslike manner if you don't mind. It keeps things simple."

"Fire away."

"I'd like you to think about Coke and Pepsi. Both are huge companies with loyal customers. Each one does well for itself in a major way. Now think about Catholicism and Protestantism. Both religions have done well, not just here in Ireland, but throughout the world. Business, religion; I hope you don't find this crude analogy an insult."

The bishop shook his head. He really wasn't a bad old bean.

"Okay, well, think of my religion as Dr Pepper. It's still a soft drink, but it wouldn't be to the taste of the Coke and Pepsi drinkers. It targets all those people who don't want Coke or Pepsi, but do want a refreshing new taste. There is room in the market for all of these products to exist."

"But I don't think that the Coca Cola Company have helped Dr Pepper become a more popular drink."

"But they've never gone to war on them either. They've all learned how to coexist in one market place."

"So are you asking me not to condemn your new religion? I thought you wanted me to actively endorse it."

"Best case scenario, I'd love it if you'd publicly accept us as a religion and not an insane cult. However, if you could do your best not to tear us apart when a journalist asks you what you think of us, that'd be very good too."

"Have you approached the Protestants about this?"

"Not yet. I've started up in this area, so you were my first obvious port of call."

The bishop closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Mike was doing his best to salvage something from a failed plan. He knew this man would not endorse Satanism. But an amicable coexistence would be an impressive concession. Mike didn't hold out much hope. The Coke and Pepsi analogy didn't really pan out as he'd hoped. His improvisation skills were not firing on all cylinders.

"Mr Rocks, I think you might be insane. I think you really believe you've been to Hell and that you're now Lucifer's official prophet. I think you're convinced that this
religion
can be spun in a positive light and that it's actually good for those who practice it. I think that if you were to gain the kind of public exposure that any kind of agreement made between the two of us would generate, you would multiply your membership considerably and raise your profile to international levels. I believe my recommendation would be severely frowned upon by the good people at the Vatican. I don't believe you think you're going to get what you want today. Insane or not, you are not a stupid man. You're desperate."

Mike didn't comment on the bishop's opinions. He had a feeling the old cleric hadn't finished. He merely couldn't talk and sip whiskey at the same time. When the bishop set his cup back on the tabletop he continued.

"I'm going to endorse your religion."

Mike was speechless. He heard Cathy's sharp intake of breath beside him but he didn't turn to look at her. At that moment in time, he only had eyes for the aging bishop.

"Close your mouth, Mr Rocks. You heard me correctly."

"Why?"

"I have personal reasons. I wouldn't want to bore you with my inane whinging."

"I really would like to know."

The bishop sighed and topped up his mug of whiskey again. He drank deeply before he spoke.

"Five years ago I was accused of abusing a young boy. I highlight the word accused. I couldn't even place the boy's face when I received the letter from his father's solicitor. Just a scheme concocted by a greedy man with a nose for easy money and a chip on his shoulder for the Catholic Church. A scam. I expected to fight the accusation in court and win with the support of my peers. I was sorely disappointed."

"They believed the boy's father?"

"Of course they did. In this day and age, the priest is always guilty until proven innocent of that horrendous crime, even amongst other priests. But I thought that because I was a canon at the time, the Church would have been willing to take a stand if I was adamant that I didn't even know the boy. Settling outside of court would have kept the story quiet internationally, but my reputation would be forever sullied locally. Settling is always seen as an admission of guilt. But my case came up at a time when many priests were under scrutiny. This opportunist knew this, of course."

"And the powers-that-be settled, keeping you out of the papers, but under the scrutiny of your parish."

"Yes. And the more I kicked up a fuss, the more they did to keep me quiet. I was made a bishop and transferred from my parish in County Limerick. After that, I stopped complaining, not because they had offered something I couldn't refuse, but because it was my ticket out of a town that no longer wanted me. I‘d received my first death threat on the same day I received the offer to become a bishop. So I bottled up my rage, swallowed my pride, and here I am."

"Is that when you started drinking?"

"What? No. I've enjoyed a drink since my eighteenth birthday. Do you think I have a problem or something?"

"I just haven't met many people who can go through half a bottle of Black Bush before noon. I didn't mean to offend you."

"That's quite all right. You're not the first to mistake a healthy appetite for a lack of self-control. No doubt you won't be the last."

The man was obviously a dipso, but Mike had no intention of getting into an argument with him about it.

"So, anyway, Mr Rocks, this is the kind of opportunity I've been waiting for. I'll show them what can happen when they try to push problems aside. I've festered over the years and now I'm going to go out with a bang."