"Never leave such things go unchecked..."

You know we are at war... I don't mean simple human skirmishes. I mean the War, the Great Battle between Good and Evil, which will continue until the End of Time. One of the important tasks we have is to remind each other that (as Bernie remarks somewhere) "we have allies who are more than a match for our adversaries."

And so I thought I would give you another glimpse of the ressuring actions which can occur when this consoling truth is remembered – a fragment from part 13 of the Saga, presently being prepared for publication. Just before this excerpt some of our enemies had invaded the Smith Metal Works, a small father&son business in Stirling, in order to use the furnace to work an infernal ritual to suspend the functionality of all radio and cell-phone activity in the town. But our guys in the Chivalry Club found out, and they informed the proper Authorities, so let us see what occurs...

At the Smith metal shop, Father Parkman had completed three circuits around the building. He was now standing by its front door, nervously trying to pray the rosary – then another car drove up. He smiled with relief when he saw it was Father Psittacus.

The diocesan exorcist got out and smiled as he approached. "Len... God bless you for your fortitude!"

"I... I'm glad you're here, Bob. I just went around, sprinkling holy water, and saying psalms... but I couldn't go inside, Bob. Sorry."

"That may be just as well, Len," he said reassuringly. "I'm here now. Remember what Chesterton said: Two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one.  [GKC The Man Who Was Thursday, CW6:548] So... first, let's just make some fresh holy water, then we'll see what we're up against."

"You're sure something's going on here?"

Father Psittacus was putting on his stole. "My radio cut off when I got near town. Does your cellphone work?"

"No."

"There's your answer. I mean, a Macbeth-like potion with fresh human blood? We've got to assume there's something rotten in Denmark, Len!" He chuckled at his mixed allusions.

Father Parkman tried to laugh. "But Bob – was it... was it worth my doing – what I did?"

The exorcist handed him a vial of salt, and set a canister of water on the hood of the car. "Oh certainly, Len. Just by being here, you already put up a strong front. Maybe kept it hedged in, prevented it from spreading malevolence wider. Never leave such things go unchecked... But we can talk later, Len. Let's proceed." Then, in a surprisingly gentle voice he began: Exorcizo te, creatura salis, per Deum vivum..."

In minutes the blessing of holy water was completed. Then he took out a fat stub of a candle, lighted it and gave it to Father Parkman to hold. "From now on, Father, I shall speak with the authority of his Excellency the bishop. For our safety, I order you to remain silent, until I give you permission to speak."

The pastor bowed in submission. Then they went inside.



Time passed... and when they came out of the shop, Father Psittacus smirked as they heard a bouncing tune on an accordion. "You are released from your silence, Len. You hear that?"

Father Parkman cocked an ear. "Yes – what is it, Bob? Er... you like polka music?"

"Not particularly... but the car radio is working again. I left it on when I parked."

Father Parkman nodded solemnly.

Then Father Psittacus extinguished the candle and gave it to him. "Keep this, just in case you need it again. And first chance you get, say a Mass of thanksgiving."

"Certainly, Bob... thanks... God bless you!"

"Thanks, Len." The exorcist lifted his hand in blessing. "Call anytime."

After Father Psittacus had gone, Father Parkman got into his own car. Then he looked at the candle he was holding – to his surprise, it had not decreased in size though it had been burning the whole time they had been inside the shop. Then he took out his cellphone – it had a connection again – and called the Chivalry Club.