― Mark Batterson
Allure of Mystery
I'm not good with uncertainty and don't embrace ambiguity. The best I can say is I'm open to the coming of the new, but tend to fall back on what's tried and true.
All this is a long divagation to avoid a perplexing question―is Diana a woman or a demon? Right now the jury's out on that one.
Not the first time I've confronted this dilemma―back in college I was enchanted by Alexis Simpson whom Breton discerned wooed me with witchcraft. Well I'm right back there again in suspended anticipation.
It all comes down to basics, as Frank Baum stated the question in The Wizard of Oz and I now paraphrase;
Is she a good witch, or a bad witch―which?
Or putting it more simply, mortal or spirit? We'll worry about morality later.
I grab a burger and fries from the cafeteria―it's not exactly up to my usual roadhouse standards, but it will do to placate my hunger pains as I find myself unusually ravenous.
I'm beginning to wonder if this isn't some form of crossed body signals such as mistaking tiredness for hunger, or in my case, hunger for sexual desire. I wished I had read more scholarly articles on paraphillia, but console myself with the notion I'm feeling anxious about Diana and eating is a simple way of trying to push down those rising doubts by ingesting food.
And that's how intellectuals avoid the obvious, so who's fooling who?
I'm ashamed to admit I went back for seconds and it almost made me late for Sister Doris' healing of memories seminar―not that I was looking forward to it, but just wanted to objectively assess her part to see if her so-called healing ministry was at least as benign as I suspected it was.
The nun began her session with what I could only describe as a guided meditation where you were led back into the past and tried to review all the people who hurt you and you needed to forgive.
It was all pap, a God-awful boring exercise that convinced me that although the good nun meant well, she was simply embedded in the ministry to lend an air of credibility to what really was going on behind the scenes―namely, Gloria's mediumistic seances where she used so called 'guided prophecy' to push believers in a direction she saw fit.
I put up with the tears and sniffling of people around me coming to terms with their past and seeking healing. Letting go of wounds from abuse or neglect was never that easy but basically, Sister Dories was a sweet woman who only meant well in conducting her ministry.
I saw and heard enough and was about to fold my tent and slink away when Sara slid in beside me.
"Hey, Malachi, what did I miss?"
"Did you bring popcorn? I'll tell you all about it someday when I'm deliberately trying to make myself sick."
"Tsk, tsk," she chided me, "guess it's too saccharine for your taste?"
I rolled my eyes and she elbowed me sharply in the ribs. "Be charitable, Malachi―after all, we're here on a retreat."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again and contented myself with flexing my jaw and grinding my teeth.
After the session, there was a rare social time in the nearby hall that was set up with coffee, desserts and finger snacks.
As we walked over to the hall she whispered, "the research teams narrowed the interview candidates down to three people we'll be able to meet with face to face, but their general consensus is that Diana is in fact a graduate of the university as she stated and several people testified they had known her all her life."
"So, the woman is at least flesh and blood," I said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Sara still seemed guarded. "That doesn't mean she's not demon possessed, like Gloria, so we're not exactly out of the woods when It comes to handling her."
Her sounding a cautionary note made eminent sense―what didn't was the delight bringing a flush to my cheek that the beautiful creature who flirted with me was actually a warm flesh and blood woman and not a demon simply playing with my head.
Yeah, male pride...if you're not careful it can always get you in the end.
Thinking of Diana made me smile and that wasn't good considering the danger we were in.