“Of course, of course, Mr. Handler. However, my information comes not from a journalist, but from the family priest who visited them at their hospital in Reggio Calabria.”
Marcus turned to Armando. “You let a priest in?”
“It was Father Leuti,” Armando said apologetically. “He’s known my family forever.”
Marcus could only shake his head at the casual way his no visitors rule had been ignored.
“Don’t worry,” Taricco said. “My discretion is absolute. The fact remains that we have a significant mystery on our hands and I can tell you that high officials at the Vatican have already reached out to me, seeking my opinion.”
“Did you confirm the lack of aging to these officials?” Marcus asked.
“Yes, but you shouldn’t have any concerns. Their discretion is also absolute.”
“I’m certain it is,” Marcus said, his face showing nothing of the sort.
“Their interest can only be helpful,” the archbishop said. “The Vatican has many resources.”
Leonora said, “We would be grateful for anything the Vatican can do to help find our daughter and her husband.”
“Certainly, certainly, Signora. They have opened a file on the matter. It is not a strong concern at this time, but proper contemporaneous documentation would be quite useful if, in the future, far in the future, an investigation is made concerning the possible beatification of the dear girls.”
Leonora silently crossed herself and Marcus wondered if anyone noticed his disgust.
Taricco continued, “I wanted to share with you some of my thoughts on this matter. I understand that the police are correctly focused on the earthly explanations involving kidnapping and the like, but I believe there are spiritual considerations that deserve a place at the table.”
“Please, go on,” Armando said earnestly.
Marcus thought: is Armando just an ass-kisser or is he prepared to believe the nonsense that was bound to be spewed? If it’s the latter, remind me never to use him as a lawyer.
When Taricco leaned back in his chair, his cassock stretched and accentuated his girth. “Well, the facts point to the conclusion that the girls have been in a state of suspended animation,” he said. “What do the Bible or the compendium of Christian writings have to offer us about their condition? Nothing. Nothing at all. The closest concepts are the states of purgatory and limbo. Of course, these refer to aspects of death.”
“Surely, Eminence,” Leonora cried, “you aren’t suggesting that Victoria and Elizabeth have died.”
“No, no, my dear lady! There has only been one resurrection! Your granddaughters have not died. They have been paused. They have spent these past years within a certain white room and—”
“How do you know about that?” Marcus asked.
“Oh, the girls told Father Leuti about that and also the spacemen. It’s charming what children are led to believe.”
Marcus sputtered, “Again, I must say—”
“Yes, yes,” Taricco said, biscuit crumbs falling onto his cassock. “Absolute discretion. The point I was making is that we might be treading on some new theological ground. Now, I will be the first to admit that as a seminarian, I was not at the top of my class in matters of eschatology, but it is important that I share with you my thoughts on the matter before I propose them to the Vatican. It is only proper that you hear from me what might become an important matter for the Church.”
“We appreciate that,” Armando said.
“I should ask, Mr. Handler, are you Catholic?” the archbishop said.
“Not even close.”
“Very well. Perhaps I should define eschatology.”
“It’s the part of theology that talks about the end times, the ultimate destiny of mankind,” Marcus said.
“Ah, you are aware of this.”
“I get around.” He didn’t really. He hadn’t “gotten around” in years. What he did have, despite the drinking, was a good memory. He’d taken a couple of religious studies courses a lifetime ago as an undergraduate at Georgetown University and the spaghetti was still sticking to the wall.
“What I am proposing,” Taricco said, “is that the girls, and perhaps their parents, entered into a state of Divine suspended animation, a sort of waiting room where ordinary reality was put on hold in a prelude to a reunion with God. In this white room that they perceived, they were neither alive nor dead. The passage of time did not occur and thus, they did not age. We experienced four years. For them, it was, perhaps, the blink of an eye. My proposition is that they were chosen by God as a kind of prelude to what one day, we all will come to experience at the Eschaton, the end time, when Christ will come again and usher us into His Kingdom of glory. Thy Kingdom come! I will raise my interpretation with my superiors. They will be able to put it to greater theological scholars than myself. And then, we shall see.”
The archbishop seemed pleased with himself and reached for the biscuit tray. Marcus looked over at the Cutrìs. Both of them seemed to be interested in their shoes, so Marcus decided to lead the charge.
“What about the gray men?” he asked.
“Ah, them,” Taricco said. “I would suggest that they were angels of some sort. Who are we to know about the appearance of angelic beings?”
“And what about their illnesses?” Marcus said.
“Perhaps this state of suspended animation causes some harm to the body.”
“And why do you think the parents are still missing?”
“This remains a mystery, but we can pray that they too will be returned soon, hopefully in good health.”
Marcus lightly slapped one of his legs and said, “Well, I’m sure I speak for the Cutrìs when I say that we are fascinated by your theory.”
“Certainly,” Armando mumbled. “Your Eminence has honored us with your observations and opinions. We seek your prayers and blessings for the return of our Elena and Jesper.”
As the archbishop rose, crumbs showered the floor. “I will pray for them,” he said.
They were half an hour into their return trip when Marcus said, “That was a complete waste of time.”
Armando raised one hand in a gesture of futility. “We
