Free The Hand of God by Tim Miller Page B

door was open so I peeked inside.  I had never been in there before so my curiosity was getting the best of me.  There was a computer on his desk, note pads, pens; typical office fare.  On the bookshelf next to his desk was a small TV with a VCR resting on top.  I figured that was for watching tapes of his sermons to critique himself. 
    I walked behind the desk and looked at the setup.  There was a stack of tapes next to the TV.  I looked them over. Each had a label with a date.  I knew the church would send out videos of the sermons to people in nursing homes and hospitals so they could still watch the services.  I put one in and watched a few minutes.  It was the service from a couple weeks before.
    I stopped the tape and popped it out, putting it back in its place.  As I turned I saw his desk drawer was open just a crack.  There was a lock on the front, but he must have been in there recently.  I pulled it open and saw some papers, rubber bands, and a stress ball.  I pushed it all aside and found another set of tapes.  These had no labels on them.  My stomach had a sickening feeling all of a sudden.  I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t found anything, but  something was telling me I was about to see something awful.  Placing the tape into the VCR, I took a deep breath and hit play.
    The tape was in black and white and a bit grainy.  There was a door, and something off to the right that I couldn’t make out.  It was as if the camera was on the ground or set very low.  The door opened and a woman walked in.  The door wasn’t a regular door, there was no knob.  It had a hook on the inside of it, like what you’d see in a bathroom stall.  A bathroom stall?
    I couldn’t make out the woman’s face, but I could see she was wearing a dress or skirt.  She was standing right above the camera and pulled her panties down, exposing everything to the camera view.  This was the women’s bathroom at the church. 
    “What do you think you’re doing?” Pastor McElroy shouted from the door way.  I turned and looked at him.
    “I think I should be asking you that question.”
    “Charlie, you don’t know what you saw there.  You might think you know, but you have no idea.  You’re just a kid anyway.”  He was trying to play me off, make me seem like I was the crazy one for seeing what I had just seen.
    “Pastor, you said we all have gifts right?”
    “Yeah?  What’s that got to do with anything?” his eyes shifted back and forth, I could tell he was nervous.  His little hobby had just been exposed.  I’m sure he was wondering if I would tell someone in the church, or the police.  I could see his wheels turning, trying to think of damage control.  All I could think about was the women he victimized without them even knowing.  My own mother used that bathroom.  It made me sick to think of him sitting in here getting his rocks off while watching my mother on the toilet.  
    “How would you like to see my gift?” I said.  “God has called me to protect his children from lions looking to devour them, from wolves in sheep’s clothing.”  That was a quote by the Apostle Paul in the New Testament. 
    “Lions? What are you talking about Charlie?”
    “These women trusted you, they look up to you.  And you go and spy on them for your own perverted means?”
    “Charlie, it’s not like that.  Let’s go get something to eat and we can talk about this.”  He started moving toward me.  “You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”
    I took a step toward him.  He was much larger than me, but I wasn’t scared.  My heard should have been racing, but it wasn’t.  A wave of calm swept over me, as if God himself was guiding me.
    “Charlie, I’m going to ask you nicely to hand me those tapes.  We can pretend this conversation never happened.”
    “God knows what happened, Pastor. And I know what happened.” Looking down at his desk I saw a letter opener. It was long, shiny, and