The Black Mass of Brother Springer Read Free Page A

$1100 was now gone, however, and to continue my way of life I needed money. Something would turn up...
           "Hey!" I shouted through the open window, "how about putting on some coffee?"
           "As a matter of fact," my wife shouted in reply, "I intend to in a minute, as soon as I have finished hanging up the laundry."
           Virginia had this habit of adding "as a matter of fact" before, or in the center, or at the end of each sentence. For awhile I had been rather irked by it, but I had become accustomed to the little trick and was no longer bothered by the term. She had picked up this phrase from watching television interview programs, I supposed, and at least it padded her small talk.
           Deep down in my heart I knew that there was a very simple solution to my money difficulties. I was an excellent accountant; Miami had a need for accountants as well as Columbus, and all I had to do was take a job and get out of debt, slowly but surely.
           Now that I was down to $87.42 I turned the pages of the Miami Herald to the want ads for the first time since moving to Florida. I did this reluctantly, but I also made up my mind to work only as long as it was necessary to get out of debt. While I waited for the coffee, and as I idly flipped the pages, a short news item at the bottom of page twelve caught my eye and saved me from another fate worse than death.
     
           CGF MONASTERY ON THE BLOCK
     
           Orangeville, Fla.—The Church of God's Flock Monastery, established in 1936, is being sold, according to the Rt Rev. Jack Dover, Abbott of the Protestant order since 1954.
           All monks have been reassigned, and only Abbott Dover has remained at the monastery to oversee the sale of the property. No reason was given for the closing of the monastery.
           Long a part of the Orangeville scene, monks of The Church of God's Rock order were self-supporting, raising goats, Key limes and oranges, and selling CGF Orange Wine on the premises.
     
           It took a writer to see the possibilities in that news item! I carefully tore the piece from the paper and went into the kitchen where Virginia was pouring hot water into two cups for instant coffee.
           "Read this," I told my wife, handing her the news item.
           "Is it a sale?" she asked.
           "In a way. Read it."
           While Virginia squinted at the newsprint, I spooned the coffee dust into our cups and stirred. She sat down at the table and returned the clipping.
           "Do you want to buy the monastery, dear?"
           "No, Virginia. I plan to do an article on the monastery. Today, people all over the United States are vitally interested in things religious; self-help, homilies that will help them get through their days. How to live a day at a time, how to keep warm, a prayer a day keeps boogers away. You see this stuff all of the time in the papers, in books, in magazines. Are you following me?"
           "Oh, yes."
           "Well, I'm going up there to Orangeville and see this Abbott Dover and find out what's going on. I've been reading Thomas Merton paperbacks ever since they started coming out, and according to him there's a big boom in this monk business. Of course, he's a Trappist and a Roman Catholic instead of a Protestant monk, but I can't understand why any monastery would close. It's too good a set-up. No financial worries, no responsibilities, no children, no friends; just wholesome work, a few prayers and a little meditation."
           "That sounds like the way we live," my wife said, with a touch of melancholy in her voice. "Back in Columbus, as a matter of fact—"
           "Now listen," I cut her off. "We are getting a bit low on funds, and if I can get an inspirational article out of this trip we will be back in the money. This Week magazine pays fifteen hundred dollars for a good lead article. If This Week turns the