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to be spoiled." In other words, old E.G. had been sucker-punched, snookered and bamboozled. |
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I reflected back on that old man's cherub-like face with its too warm smile beaming out over a gilt-edged Bible, the rickety old wheelchair, his wistful study of the turgid waters of the misty straitand recast that image in light of Kelto's revelation. |
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E.G. Wages had bought it, hook, line and sinker. |
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Why else would the church take a man still in his prime and relegate him to an obscure cell in an obscure house in an obscure village in an obscure corner of the world? Why wouldn't the mother church try to capitalize on his message? Why, indeed, wouldn't that church send him forth? Why wouldn't this soulful message have the most universal of all appeals? |
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The answer, of course, is obvious. |
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The church had learned the real truth about Myron Bell. |
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Somewhere, somehow, some way, they had discovered that one of their own, one of their chosen, one of their annointed was in reality a disciple of darkness, an Emissary of the demon Sate. |
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What better way to conceal the embarrassment? |
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What better way to bury the fact? |
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What better way to close the pages on |
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