That Author Guy
Ashes Of Babylon - Chapter Eight
Cory Sandrock, '06
Issue date: 2/16/06 Section: Arts & Entertainment
"I'm not stupid," replied Stephen. He shot a disappointed look at Father Thomas, who stepped back from the chair.
"I never even considered that," said Father Thomas as he placed the rope back on the kitchen counter, "you're one of the smartest altar boys we've ever had."
"Then tell me what the hell is going on!" demanded Stephen.
"We need you," Father Thomas interjected, "to save the Order."
"What?" Stephen looked confused.
"The Order of the Knights of Babylon," explained Ruth.
"Our society," continued Father Thomas, "is dedicated to improving the world and giving power to those who deserve it."
"Like you?" Stephen asked.
"And you," said Father Thomas, "how else could I get you into Harvard with one phone call?" Father Thomas smiled, slightly, and Stephen felt as though he had been hit by something harder than any opponent he had ever faced on the rugby field.
News of the robbery did not sit well with other officers at the 18th District Police Station. Although everybody told Frank they understood, he noticed a number of dirty glares in the halls and heard several whispered conversations in the bathroom. Michael tried to deflect some of the criticism while still harboring a hint of his own frustration with Frank. It was 9 a.m. and the station was coming to life in spite of the setback. If anything, the robbery actually strengthened resolve around the station while officers tried to remember as many lost details as possible. Amid this activity Frank desperately tried to remember something about the previous night that could lead them to the mystery woman.
"So nothing sticks out?" Michael asked again.
"No," said Frank, "I mean, she was hot and had a short skirt and that's pretty much all I remember."
"How drunk were you?" Michael jibbed.
"Don't start," mumbled Frank.
"Sorry," replied Michael. He paused and paced the room in silence. Frank stared out the window hoping something would appear in his memory. For a moment they were both lost in thought. Although Michael knew he could recreate much of what was in the evidence file with his own notes, he also knew they were still forgetting something important. Frank finally broke the silence.
"I never even considered that," said Father Thomas as he placed the rope back on the kitchen counter, "you're one of the smartest altar boys we've ever had."
"Then tell me what the hell is going on!" demanded Stephen.
"We need you," Father Thomas interjected, "to save the Order."
"What?" Stephen looked confused.
"The Order of the Knights of Babylon," explained Ruth.
"Our society," continued Father Thomas, "is dedicated to improving the world and giving power to those who deserve it."
"Like you?" Stephen asked.
"And you," said Father Thomas, "how else could I get you into Harvard with one phone call?" Father Thomas smiled, slightly, and Stephen felt as though he had been hit by something harder than any opponent he had ever faced on the rugby field.
News of the robbery did not sit well with other officers at the 18th District Police Station. Although everybody told Frank they understood, he noticed a number of dirty glares in the halls and heard several whispered conversations in the bathroom. Michael tried to deflect some of the criticism while still harboring a hint of his own frustration with Frank. It was 9 a.m. and the station was coming to life in spite of the setback. If anything, the robbery actually strengthened resolve around the station while officers tried to remember as many lost details as possible. Amid this activity Frank desperately tried to remember something about the previous night that could lead them to the mystery woman.
"So nothing sticks out?" Michael asked again.
"No," said Frank, "I mean, she was hot and had a short skirt and that's pretty much all I remember."
"How drunk were you?" Michael jibbed.
"Don't start," mumbled Frank.
"Sorry," replied Michael. He paused and paced the room in silence. Frank stared out the window hoping something would appear in his memory. For a moment they were both lost in thought. Although Michael knew he could recreate much of what was in the evidence file with his own notes, he also knew they were still forgetting something important. Frank finally broke the silence.