Part 69 (1/2)

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.

Matthew 7:7

I WAS saved from answering that impossible question by an interruption - and was I glad! I suppose every man has doubts at times about G.o.d's justice. I admit that I had been much troubled lately and had been forced to remind myself again and again that G.o.d's ways are not man's ways, and that I could not expect always to understand the purposes of the Lord.

But I could not speak my misgivings aloud, and least of all to the Lord's Ancient Adversary. It was especially upsetting that Satan chose at this moment to have the shape and the voice of my only friend.

Debating with the Devil is a mug's game at best.

The interruption was mundane: a telephone ringing. Accidental interruption? I don't think Satan tolerates 'accidents'. As may be, I did not have to answer the question that I could not answer.

Katie said, 'Shall I get it, dear?'

'Please.'

A telephone handset appeared in Katie's hand. 'Lucifer's office, Rahab speaking. Repeat, please. I will inquire.' She looked at Jerry.

'I'll take it.' Jerry operated without a visible telephone instrument. 'Speaking. No. I said, no. No, d.a.m.n it! Refer that to Mr Ashmedai. Let Me have the other call.' He muttered something about the impossibility of getting competent help, then said, 'Speaking. Yes, Sir!' Then He said nothing for quite a long time. At last He said, 'At once, Sir. Thank you.'

Jerry stood up. 'Please excuse Me, Alec; I have work to do. I can't say when I will be back. Try' to treat this waiting as a vacation. and My house is yours. Katie, take care of him. Sybil, keep him amused.' Jerry vanished.

'Will I keep him amused!' Sybil got up and stood in front of me, rubbed her hands together. Her western clothes faded out, leaving Sybil. She grinned.

Katie said mildly, 'Sybil, stop that. Grow more clothes at once or I'll send you home.'

'Spoilsport.' Sybil developed a skimpy bikini. 'I plan to make Saint Alec forget that Danish baggage.'

'What'll you bet, dear? I've been talking to Pat.'

'So? What did Pat say?'

'Margrethe can cook.'

Sybil looked disgusted. 'A girl spends fifty years on her back, studying hard. Along comes some slottie who can make chicken and dumplings. It's not fair.'

I decided to change the subject. 'Sybil, those tricks you do with clothes are fascinating. Are you a graduate witch now?'

Instead of answering me at once, Sybil glanced at Katie, who said to her: 'All over with, dear. Speak freely.'

'Okay. Saint Alec, I'm no witch. Witchcraft is poppyc.o.c.k. You know that verse in the Bible about not suffering witches to live?'

'Exodus twenty-two, eighteen.'

'That's the one. The Old Hebrew word translated there as ”witch” actually means ”poisoner”. Not letting a poisoner continue to breathe strikes me as a good idea. But I wonder how many friendless old women have been hanged or burned as a result of a sloppy translation?'

(Could this really be true? What about the 'literal word of G.o.d' concept on which I had been reared? Of course the word 'witch' is English, not the original Hebrew... but the translators of the King James, version were sustained by G.o.d - that's why that version of the Bible [and only that one] can be taken literally. But - No! Sybil must be mistaken. The Good Lord would not let hundreds, thousands, of innocent people be tortured to death over a mistranslation He could so easily have corrected.)

'So you did not attend a Sabbat that night. What did you do?'

'Not what you think; Israfel and I aren't quite that chummy. Chums, yes; buddies, no.'