— André Gide
A Short Biography of Satan
I had 24 hours before my lunch meeting with Malachi Bane. I was not looking forward to it. I had no sympathy for the devil.
Andie was out showing houses and if I sat around brooding about Bane, I might lose my nerve entirely. So, to avoid this, I opted to go for jog, preferably far away from Bane's estate.
I made the mistake of venturing too near last time and that was not the kind of misstep I needed to make now.
I was beginning to hate this guy.
I put on my jogging gear and headed in the opposite direction from Bane's estate.
It was a beautiful sunny day with the temperature hovering around 72 F. It was ideal weather to be outside.
This part of the Nature trail was actually more beautiful than the previous route I took and after a half hour I began to tire and decided to rest and drink some water before heading back.
I chose a spot surrounded by hills and near a small waterfall that probably disappeared during the dry season.
As I sat there drinking from my water bottle it occurred to me I was in a place where I'd be vulnerable to an attack.
I began feeling uneasy and slightly paranoid, but as I looked up to the hills I saw a reassuring sight—The Watchers had followed me and were ranged along the ridge like sentries.
It occurred to me to wave and acknowledge them, but something stopped me. It seemed unseemly to treat their presence so cavalierly.
And then a memory floated back from my university years.
I was more or less an agnostic then and he little respect for religion—but I had enormous respect for my mentor, Father Breton, a Catholic priest who was a legend on campus.
It was a time when there was a wave of interest in the occult and some students had immersed themselves in learning about Satanism.
I, of course, being cynical and skeptical of such 'nonsense' as I termed it, began making sarcastic remarks and jokes about Old Scratch.
My tirade was abruptly interrupted by Breton, who responded sternly, "You need to stop that, Paul—show some respect."
My jaw dropped. "Ae you being serious, Father—are you actually asking me to respect the Devil? I thought he was your adversary."
Breton nodded soberly, "he is our Enemy, but the Bible doesn't teach us to give into hate."
"You're telling me you respect Satan?"
"I'm not saying that—I’m saying don't disrespect angelic majesties—there’s a difference."
Just recalling that time in my life made me nostalgic.
I don't know if I ever stopped believing, or if it happened when I lost contact with Breton who was my connection with the Almighty.
I glanced up at the ridge. The Watchers were still there. I guess waving at them might be friendly but disrespectful.
Remembering what Breton told me about angels, curbed my enthusiasm to trash Bane. I suppose the moral of the story is not to bad mouth even fallen angels and not to confront them directly.
I need to leave the battle to my guardians up there on the ridge and just gather the information on Bane so Crissy can present it on to the board of directors.
What Bane is doing is probably not illegal, but definitely not something the directors would approve.
This spiritual warfare business is not my battle—my job is just to gather info on Bane and get out of the way when all hell breaks loose—which it inevitably will…
Perhaps sooner than I think.