CHAPTER 6

THE COUNCIL ROOM WAS situated at the north end of the tabernacle, a building that housed a 1,000-seat auditorium where church services and semi-annual conferences were held. The council room was forty feet square and was paneled in dark mahogany with a huge polished teak conference table sitting in the exact middle of the room.  A gentle, pleasant fragrance wafted from a large fresh-cut flower centerpiece on the table.  Down each side of the table were plush chairs for the Apostles, six to a side.  A bottle of water stood on the table before each chair.  The Prophet Ronald Hansen sat at the north end of the table, flanked by his secretary and a chair for a guest, should the Prophet invite one.  At the south end were three chairs.  Today, nine Apostles were in attendance, three were on assignment.  Half a dozen invited observers and supplicants sat in chairs placed around the perimeter of the room.

“Brothers,” Hansen said, “I thank all of you for being here.  Let the secretary note that Elders Wainwright, Smith, and Brucellus are on assignment at the pleasure of the President.”

Turning to the petitioners, he said, “Welcome to this open meeting of the Ruling Council.  As you know, we hold these particular meetings once a month and invite all members of the Church of the One Mighty and Strong who wish to petition the Council.  May we have the first member take a seat at the end of the table?”

A young man about twenty-five years old arose, walked to the end of the table and sat down.  He carried a file folder, which he placed carefully on the table in front of him.  He wore a dark suit that fit him loosely and showed signs of wear.  The collar of his white shirt was frayed and his tie was too narrow. He ran a hand through fine brown hair and licked his lips nervously.  “Thank you for allowing me this opportunity,” he said, looking right and left down the table.  To the Prophet he said, “Thank you especially, President.  It is an honor for me to be here.”

The Prophet smiled and waved his hand slightly.

The young man continued.  “As some of you know, I finished a mission to Arizona this spring.”

One of the Apostles nodded vigorously.  “And a very successful mission, if I may add that comment.”  He looked at the Prophet who nodded his approval.

“Anyway,” the young man continued, “I really want to go to college.  I don’t want to get married right now.  I have prepared a few pages that give my reasons, my qualifications, and my petition to the Council.  I would like to leave this with you brothers to consider.  I will accept your verdict no matter what it is.”

“James,” the Prophet said.  “James, we know you well.  We have watched you grow into a strong and pure young man, and we have great expectations for you.  Of course, we know your parents, Ralph and Donetta, and we have observed their sacrifices for the church and their many years of service to it.  We also realize that they do not have the means to send you to college, but they would spare nothing to give you every possible opportunity.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Tell me, what area of study do you plan to pursue?”

“Computer science, President.”

Hansen smiled.  “Wonderful.  And where do you expect to practice your engineering skills when you finish college?”

“Wherever the Lord directs me, sir.  I will return here and seek the Council’s guidance at that time.”

“Where do you plan to go to school?”

“I have been accepted at UC Berkeley.  But the out-of-state tuition…”

Hansen interrupted.  “James, money, as you probably have guessed, is not the deciding factor in cases like this.  If it is the right thing to do, the church will provide what you need.  You would, of course, be required to meet certain scholastic goals and to keep us well apprised of your activities.”

“Of course.”

“James, as you know, these decisions are not made lightly.  The entire Council needs to seek the Lord in these matters.”

“I understand that, sir.”

Hansen looked up and down the table.  “However,” he said, “unless one of the brothers has a check in his spirit about this, I think we should just say ‘Yes, and Amen’ to you right now.  What say you, brethren?”

With one voice they said, “Yes, and Amen!”

“Wonderful,” the Prophet said.  “James, call on my financial secretary later today and tell brother Satterwhite that the Council wants to send you to Berkeley.”  The Prophet drummed his fingers on the table and looked at the ceiling.  “And James, tell brother Satterwhite that the President said to send you in good style!”

***

Three hours later, the Council meeting was dismissed.  Hansen noted that Hoyt Akers, his helicopter pilot, left the meeting, apparently disappointed that his petition to take Maggie Balsam to wife was temporarily set aside to give the brethren time to seek the Lord.

The Prophet asked Apostle Campbell to stay.  A bowl of fruit and a pitcher of orange juice were set before the two men by a fresh-faced young girl.  She poured two glasses of juice.  The Prophet followed her with his eyes as she left the room.

He turned to Campbell, his most trusted Apostle.  The church knew him as Silent Bill Campbell because he didn’t speak often and when he did it was always brief and to the point.  Hansen called him Silent Bill for a variety of other reasons.

“Bill, I have a matter of the utmost urgency to talk to you about.”

Campbell waited for the Prophet to continue.

“You know, of course, that our special mission south of Basin went wrong the other night and that our own men are in jail in Casper awaiting trial.  Their bonds are set at $200,000 each.”

“Yes, of course I know that.”

“Well, this is not a time for recriminations.  Excellent legal counselors have already visited with our soldiers there in Casper.”

Campbell said nothing.  He picked up his orange juice and sipped it, but continued to look frankly at the Prophet.

“What I need to know,” Hansen said as he inspected a thick-skinned tangerine, “is how those two boys will fare under the thumb of the gentile storm troopers.”

“I think they will crack.”

Silence.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”  Hansen picked up a sharp knife and sliced the tangerine cleanly in two.  He looked at Campbell.

Campbell arose, drank down the last of his orange juice, turned, and walked out of the room.

After he was gone, Hansen shook his head.  “What a smooth character you are Billy Campbell.”

***

Five minutes after Campbell left the conference room, Sydney Greenleaf came in.  He wore khakis and gum-soled boots.  He was thirty-five, muscular, and had a military haircut.  Greenleaf crossed his hands in front of his waist, standing at parade rest.

The Prophet sat silently, staring at a tangerine he rolled around on the table as though to soften it.  After a moment, Greenleaf cleared his throat.  The Prophet slowly brought his gaze to him.

“Oh, Sydney, forgive me.  I didn’t realize you had entered.”

“That’s perfectly all right, President.”

“Kind of you Sydney.  Look, yesterday you told me that Monster Broadbeck is escorting Jan Kucera to an Alaska Airlines flight in Billings.”

“Yes, sir.  We have a tap on his phone.  He made arrangements yesterday and should be on his way right now as a matter of fact.”

“Don’t we have anyone inside Alaska?”

“I’ll find out, sir.”

“I want to know when our friend is coming home.  If I am right, he will not allow Broadbeck to meet the plane.  His pride will only let him go so far.  So, I would like to know that.”

“You want to know when he is coming back?”

The Prophet froze.  He turned toward Sydney with a perplexed look on his face.  “I believe that is the question I asked, was it not?”  His voice was calm, but his eyes were flashing.

For an instant fear crossed Sydney’s face, but just for an instant.  “Yes, sir,” he said flatly, “that is the question you asked.”

“So will you please just get that information and get back to me?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Thank you, Sydney.”

The Prophet turned back to the bowl of fruit.  He neatly sliced all of the pieces in half.