Chapter 1
December, 2000
It was four days before Christmas. Main Street was lined with antique lamp posts, garnished with evergreen branches in the shapes of bells and reindeer. Holiday lights draped across the two lane road.
Father Alex Forker looked down at the seat, and picked up a map of Thurmont, Maryland. Go straight down Main. At the light, turn right. Saint Patrick's should be a few buildings up on the right.
He looked for a street sign, determined he was on Main and set the map down. It was a small town. One main drag. Old, refinished row houses sat close to the curbs.
He reached the light. It was red. The center of town consisted of a restaurant, drug store, and bank. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon, with just a few people on the sidewalks. By tonight, there wouldn't be room for people to stand.
The light turned. Alex turned right and moved slowly up the road. The tall, white, pointed steeple of Saint Pats appeared. He was in the right place. He looked for signs directing him to parking.
He turned right, down a side street, between the large stone church and a new fellowship hall. Finally, a sign. Parking was behind the church.
Father Bellows was expecting him at two. He looked at his watch. It was already five after. He grabbed his briefcase from the back seat and rushed toward the door. Bellows' office should be just inside on the left.
He walked down a large hallway which seemed to circle behind the back of the sanctuary. A door was open. Alex peeked in. The church was large. Tall painted ceilings. Large, wide pillars lined the sides. A white marble alter covered the back wall.
"Father Forker, I presume."
The voice came from behind him. Alex jumped. He turned. A tall, distinguished looking man, full dark wavy hair and collar, approached. They shook hands.
"Didn't mean to startle you. I'm William Bellows. Right this way."
Bellows pointed to his office, stepped in front of Alex and opened the door. "Long trip. I assume you're tired. Jet lag and all." They walked in. Bellows pointed to a chair next to his desk. "Please, sit."
There were two chairs on either side of an oriental rug. They sat across from one another. Alex looked around the room. Nothing but book shelves. Bellows had an extensive library. He was scanning the titles when Bellows spoke. "Not often we get someone from the Vatican."
Alex thought carefully before he responded. "Well, I have to tell you that the Bishop seemed pretty concerned and excited. I'll do my best to stay out of the way."
"Do you need a place to stay? I have plenty of room."
"Thanks, but no. I have a room at the Eisenhower Inn, just outside of Gettysburg."
"Nice place. You'll enjoy it there. You planning on taking in any of the sites?"
"I wish I had the time."
"I'm sorry, where are my manners. Can I get you any coffee? Tea?"
"No thanks, I've had my fill this morning. I would like to get started, though. If you don't mind."
"Not at all, just tell me how I can help."
"I'd like to ask you a few questions."
Bellows looked surprised. "Fine."
"You don't mind if I record the conversation, do you?"
"No, uh, not at all."
Alex opened up his briefcase, pulled out a pad, pencil and small, hand-held recorder. "O.K. then, here we go." He pushed a button on the recorder. "What is the woman's name?"
"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Bowman. But, everyone calls her Kari."
"Everyone?"
"The congregation, the community, basically everyone who comes to see her."
"She will be here tonight, for the service?"
"We prefer to call it a prayer group meeting."
"Why not a service?"
"I guess because it's not officially sanctioned by the Church."
"But you'll be there, right?"
"Yes, but more as an observer than anything else. I manage the prayer session." Bellows seemed nervous.
"Do you resent her being here?"
Billows hesitated. This report might wind up on the Pope's desk. "A little."
"In what way?"
"Only in the sense that some believers in the congregation come to her for blessings after the service, I mean session."
"Blessings?"
"They ask her to bless family members, friends. That kind of thing."
"And you resent that."
Billows hesitated again. He had to be tactful. "I'm not sure she's qualified."
"You said before that some are believers. I assume then that some are not."
"I can only estimate, but probably about half of our congregation are believers and half are not."
"You don't mind if I speak with some of the visitors tonight, do you?"
"Not at all. We're here to serve you. Whatever you need."
"I'd like some names of those that you think are believers and those that are non-believers."
"I can do that."
Chapter 2
It was six forty-five when Alex turned off of Route. 15 and on to Main Street. He was about a mile from the church. As he approached the light in the center of town, he saw people standing in the middle of the road. Must have been an accident. Sitting at the light he realized they were streaming toward the church.
He wasn't going to get down the church road, so he pulled into an alley and parked behind a restaurant. He'd have to walk a few blocks.
He joined the crowd and found that with his collar came some privileges. The people that noticed stepped aside. He hoped they didn't think he was substituting.
This was a mixed crowd. Young and old, black and white, rich and poor. They all had one thing in common, though. They were going to see the visionary.
The crowd stopped moving as they approached the front of the church. Alex looked toward the door. There was a backup.
The collar was working again. Some noticed and poked the ones who didn't. Before he knew it, the sea was dividing and there was an opening just wide enough for him to move all the way to the door. He waved to everyone, gave a nod to silently thank them, but he'd wait just like everyone else.
It was a cold night. He was thankful for the crowd. They huddled. He listened. Most seemed happy. They spoke of holiday plans and family visits. Santa was coming. Shopping was a major topic.
Then he heard the first comments about Kari. A woman, standing a few feet away, apparently had never seen her. Wait till you see this, someone told her. I've never seen anything like it.
It took about ten minutes for the crowd to reach the lobby. Alex looked into the sanctuary and saw people putting jackets across pews, saving seats. No wonder there was a backup. Bellows might want to sell assigned seating, he thought with a smile. He glanced behind to the crowd in the street. Some of these people are not getting in.
The prayer group meeting began exactly at seven. The lobby was packed. Many spilled out onto the steps and front sidewalks. Some children sat on the shoulders of their parents, hoping to get a peek.
Alex chose to stand in the lobby. He could see and hear, and he'd probably be able to talk there, as opposed to inside the sanctuary. It was a good spot.
He had never seen Elizabeth Bowman. Not even a picture. He looked toward the alter. There were several women seated together, a couple of alter boys and Father Bellows. He turned to an elderly man standing next to him. "Which one is Kari?"
"That's her." The man pointed toward the alter. "The woman in the middle."
There was nothing special looking about her. She was dressed in a blue skirt and white blouse. The other women were dressed the same. She was blond, appeared to be of average height, maybe in her forties.
All three women sat praying with beads in their hands and eyes closed. The congregation began the Rosary.
Alex looked at his watch. Two more minutes.
At precisely seven-seventeen, in the middle of a Hail Mary, as it happened every Thursday, Kari dropped to her knees. The other women continued to pray. A buzz was heard throughout the congregation. Some people stood, trying to get a better view. Most continued to pray, with eyes closed, and heads bowed.
Kari had her face to the ground. Alex was watching her head, looked to the crowd, then back at Kari.
She raised her head from the carpet. Her eyes were wide. They seemed to bulge out from her skull. She stared at the congregation.
A young woman, standing near Alex, fell to her knees and began to sob. Several people yelled, calling out the name of their visionary. Kari, Kari.
They believed that Kari's body had been transformed into Mary, the mother of God.
