“You can't be serious!” John exclaimed.

“Ah! But I am.” Michael smiled.

“You're a professor now! A real professor!”

“Yes. Professor Michael C. Wayne is my name.”

“That's wonderful!” John cried happily.

The young professor laughed. He was 30 years old while his friend, John Largon, was 27. They had known each other for many years, mostly because they had gone to the same university, Royal Falcon University.

When Michael got his degrees at 21, he decided to go help John at the Largon's printing press. After a time, though, he began to dislike printing, for the Largon's printed books on Saints, martyrs, and people who had fallen away from the True Faith and then returned to it. Were he a Catholic, he would have loved to be a printer for the Largon's all his life, but, to the great sorrow of John and his family, Michael was an atheist who didn't like being reminded that he was once a Catholic. When his eyes fell on the stories filled with the many consoling teachings of the Church, his conscience smote him. John also annoyed Michael, for the boy used every opportunity to try to gently convince Michael that the Truths of the Catholic Faith are the means by which one can know God and be truly happy. Michael, however, felt that he had had enough of John's “nagging” which was only gently reminding, but, to a disturbed conscience, it was harsh berating. Thus it was that, after three years, Michael announced that he was leaving to go study and become famous in the academic circle. That was all that John and his family heard of Michael, that is, until he returned as a professor May 15th, 1867, six years after he left. The Largons were overjoyed at his return, although they were saddened that he was still an atheist. This, however, was soon to change...

One day, Michael and John were on their way back to the Largon's Press after running a few errands in town. They were just about to turn the corner that started the street on which the store was, when they heard a commotion. Turning around, they beheld two men who were arguing violently, waving their arms and shouting.

“Who are they?” Michael asked.

“I think they're Mr. Wonton and Mr. Morgaine.” John replied. “They own the Wonton Morgaine Press and Books factory.” he sighed. “It's such a shame that they use it to print evil literature.”

“If this is a regular occurrence, then I wouldn't worry about them staying in business for very long.” Michael commented, looking at the angry red faces and the clenched fists.

“True.” John agreed. “But don't you think that we should stop this before it comes to blows?”

Michael nodded and the pair retraced their steps. After much difficulty, they succeeded in disengaging the partners who had already begun to strike each other.

“What's this all about?” Mr. Morgaine cried angrily when John pulled him away from his adversary.

“You tell us!” Michael shouted back, struggling with Mr. Wonton.

“Why should we?!” Mr. Morgaine bellowed.

“Because they have more brains than you do!” Mr. Wonton argued.

“Take that back!” His partner shouted, lunging for him. John pulled Mr. Moragine back and, in doing so, came close to the edge of the curb.

“You're the most irresponsible man ever created!” Mr. Wonton continued.

“That's a lie!” Mr. Morgaine screamed. He tried to attack his adversary again, but John had sensed this and kept him from accomplishing it. “Get off!” The crazed man shouted. He threw his weight against the young body, and knocked John off of the sidewalk.

“No!” Mr. Wonton groaned.

“John! Look out!” Michael cried.

He freed Mr. Wonton and began to run to John's aid, but Mr. Morgaine, standing motionless in shock, prevented him from quickly reaching the street, until Mr. Wonton pushed Mr. Morgaine out of the way. John landed in front of a carriage, frightening the horses, who threw up their front legs in terror. Seeing the opening, John jumped clear and fell on the sidewalk panting. Michael quickly grabbed his arms and began to pull him, when, suddenly, John screamed.

“John, what's the matter?” Michael asked.

There was no answer.

“John! John, answer me! Please!” Michael cried.

“Do you need help?” Mr. Wonton asked, running up.

“Yes! Call a carriage! Quickly!” Michael shouted. “ I need to get him to a doctor!”

In a matter of hours, at the Maple Acre Hospital, Michael and the Largons were able to piece together what happened. When John had jumped clear of the carriage, the horses had bolted, pulling the carriage wheels over his foot. It was through the excess of pain that John screamed and fainted.

“Is there any hope for him?” Mrs. Largon asked Dr. Bennett.

The Doctor hesitated.

“Anything is possible.” He said in a matter-of-fact way.

The voice was steady, but Michael caught the look of concern in the doctor's eye.

“What'll we do to do if John is lame for life?” Mrs. Largon wept.

“I'll tell you what we'll do!” Her husband cried. “You've heard of that miraculous new spring in France, haven't you?”

Being an atheist, Michael raised a confused eyebrow, but Mrs. Largon quickly answered.

“You mean Lourdes?”

“Yes!”

“What's that got to do with John's foot?” Michael asked.

“In Lourdes, France,” Mrs. Largon explained. “there is a spring that cures many people on account of the fact that Our Lady herself helped this young girl, Bernadette Soubirous, to find it, and ever since then it has cured a great amount of people through the intercession of Mary.”

“So, I feel that we should take John to Lourdes.” Mr. Largon added. “What do you think, Kathleen?” He asked his wife.

“If you want to go, Patrick,” She answered. “Then I don't see why not.”

“I want to go with you.”

Both husband and wife turned in surprise, for the bearer of the voice was Michael.

“If you want to, you can.” Patrick responded. “It's completely up to you.”

“Thank you.” Michael mumbled.

“I'll go and ask John what he thinks of the idea.” Kathleen said. She went into the room were her son was. Her husband, however, remained behind, his thoughts on what Michael had just decided to do. Patrick knew as, indeed, they all knew Michael was an atheist...but, then, why did he want to accompany them?

“This might be the beginning of his long-prayed for conversion!” Mr. Largon thought excitedly. “Oh, Queen of Heaven, please let it be so!”

On a cool spring day, the Largons and Michael made their way to a Parisian house. Inside, they were warmly welcomed by John's sister, Mary, who was now Mrs. Vinise, her husband, Anton, and their 12-year-old daughter, Julie. All were saddened by the tragic accident, but all expressed the same hope that John would soon be cured, even Michael.

The next day, after an exhausting train ride, they arrived at Lourdes. While Anton and Michael made John comfortable, Mary filled a bottle with the miraculous water. All of the others knelt and prayed fervently for a cure. Then, when Patrick signaled to her, Mary poured the healing waters over her brother's crushed foot. A few minutes passed while everyone prayed, even Michael. Another ten minutes passed, yet there was no exclamation of joy from John's mouth.

“Well, how do you feel?” Michael asked, a trifle impatiently.

“The same.” John answered quietly.

“Pour some more water over his foot, Mary.” Anton said. Mary did as she was bidden and everyone again begged Our Lady to hear their prayers.

“Now, how do you feel, my boy?” Patrick asked confidently.

“The same.” John repeated.

“Why don’t you drink some?” Kathleen suggested. John did and again they prayed fervently.

“And now how do you feel?” Patrick asked again.

John didn't answer. He knew that the waters had done nothing, but he didn't want Michael to know....not yet. He turned to his father and asked.

“May we go home? I'm exhausted.”

“But what of your foot?” Michael exclaimed.

“It hasn’t healed yet, but answer to prayer isn’t always instantaneous.” John reminded him.

“That’s right!” Mary smiled. “Maybe God just wants a little faith.”

“So, let's go home.” Patrick said. “And wait for the cure there.”

On the train ride back to the Vinise’s home, John prayed very hard for courage.

“Oh, Mary,” He prayed. “Why didn't you heal my foot? I don't mind being lame, but... but... Michael does! Now he'll think that you are an illusion... and even if you do exist, you are a tyrant who delights in raising her children's hopes high, and then, with glee, watches them plunge down the ravine of despair. Oh, Mary! You know that I'm willing to be lame if that's what you want, but... please help Michael understand.”

John had a good reason to be worried. Michael was seething with anger toward Mary for not healing John. He felt that since the foot wasn’t healed immediately, it would never be healed. He also felt that John was the best man in the world, and if that was the case, why didn't Mary heal him? Why was She going to let his foot be cut off?

“Because She's just the way I said She was,” he thought angrily. “I knew that She wouldn't listen! She never does! Why did I even try to ask Her? I've asked Her for many things, only to find that, not only do I not get them, but I get the exact opposite! Just now, for example: I asked, with rare sincerity, for John’s foot to be healed, and not only was his foot not healed, but it will probably have to get cut off! Oh, I knew it! She doesn't care about me or John! She's just like God! What did I expect?!”

Unfortunately, Michael had forgotten that God and Mary only allow something bad to happen so that a greater good can come about through it. Michael, however, allowed satan to guide him to despair and anger, and satan delighted in tormenting him. All this time, Michael had succeeded in keeping his thoughts to himself, but when, after a few days, the foot showed no improvement and Anton suggested that they bring John to a doctor so that the foot might be examined, Michael's temper boiled over. He accused them of making him go with them and of forcing him to pray. He also told them that Our Lady was a tyrannical woman who didn't want John's foot to be healed.

“Michael! How can you say that!” John cried.

“I can say it because it's true!” Michael shouted. “She's the one who made you fall and She wants you to be crippled.”

“If She let me fall,” John replied. “It was only so that a greater good could come from it.”

“You call being lame a “greater good”!” Michael cried.

“We don't know whether his foot is still lame or not.” Anton interjected. “Which is why I thought we could....”

“I don't care if his foot is healed or cut off!” Michael answered abruptly. “I'm going home!” He turned on his heel and quickly left the room. All was quiet in the parlor. Then Anton turned again to Patrick and muttered.

“Well, since we don't need to worry about... him, I suggest that we take John to Dr. Radamon.

“But what about Pr. Wayne?” Julie asked quickly. “Isn’t... isn’t he coming too?”

Anton hesitated, but his wife answered for him.

“We need to pray very hard for Pr. Wayne.” She answered. “Because right now his mind is thinking that things that are true are false and things that are false are true, so we need to pray that he passes the test because right now he's going to get an F.”

When Michael arrived back in England, he found a letter waiting for him. It was from the Largons. Michael opened it and read:

Michael,

I thought you'd like to know that Dr. Radamon said that my foot is indeed crushed, but he thinks that all it needs is a little operation. He suggested that we go to a certain Dr. Stininsky in Russia who is very good with bone placement. So, anyway, I just wanted you to know where we were in case you tried to find us. I wish you had decided to stay. I miss you very much, but I guess friendship isn't about making yourself happy, it's about making your friend happy, which is why I spent so much time trying to get you to become Catholic. Oh, Michael! Being Catholic really isn't as bad as you think and say it is! If it was, why are there so many saints and martyrs? I know it’s difficult to give up one's will, but there has to be some sacrifice. Otherwise, there would be no way to prove to God that we love Him more than ourselves. I do love you Michael, and I'm not just saying that. The reason I've tried so many times to convert you is so that you can share my happiness, but God gave you a free will and I respect that, so the choice is yours. I just pray that God will protect and counsel you and, until we meet again, farewell.

- John Largon

Michael sighed. He had been trying to forget about John these last few days, without success. What was the thing that had made him happy? Was it really happiness that he wanted? Was he throwing it all away? Were John and Michael's souls connected? Who was the One that brought them together?

Michael shifted uneasily. He knew the answer. God had brought them together.

“Well, then why did You break us apart?” Michael asked angrily. He received no answer. He didn't want one or need one, he told himself. He put the letter back into the envelope and threw it into the fire.

“I can get along fine without you, John.” He said. “And I can get along very well without You.” He muttered, looking up. Then he sighed.

“What do I want?” He wondered...

Two days later, Michael was standing in front of the Largon's deserted printing press. He looked through the window and saw the machines standing in the dark room, unattended.

“This place is like my heart.” Michael thought sadly. “Here it is, all lonely, dark, and deserted... because John isn't here... and so is my heart.”

Suddenly, Michael felt something shove his shoulder with such strength that he fell. He looked up and saw what appeared to be a brigade of rugs attacking him.

“Why can't you watch were your going?” The 'brigade' bellowed.

He then realized it was a man who had bunch of rugs over his head.

“I beg your pardon, sir.” He said, helping the man to his feet. “But I wasn't moving!”

“Yeah! Well, how do you explain me bumping into you!” The man sputtered.

“Could it be that, since you had the rugs over your head, you didn't see me?”

“I could see the ground!” The man retorted.

“But I wasn't lying on the ground.” Michael answered.

“If he was, you wouldn't have been the first one to bump into him.” An elderly man laughed, joining their conversation. “Now, what say you we put the rugs like so?” He shifted the rugs so that it looked like the man had a veil on. “Now be off with you!”

The man muttered a few words as he left, but the elderly gentleman continued to laugh.

“Oh, heavens! That was the funniest occurrence I've witnessed today, but do tell me, lad, is something troubling you?”

“Well...” Michael wanted to say no, but there was something about this man that was irresistible. “...yes.” he answered quietly.

“What is your name?”

“Pr. Michael C. Wayne.”

The man's eyes widened for half a second and then went back to normal.

“Ah! A professor! How interesting! My name is...well...just call me Louis.”

“Thank you, Mr. Louis.”

“I know I've just met you.” The gentleman went on. “But do you think I could be of any assistance to you in your dilemma? I...I do have experience which I've gained over the years. Maybe I could help?”

“I don't know.” Michael murmured brokenly. “I really don't know.”

“Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?” The man offered. "Maybe we could get more acquainted.”

“Alright.” Michael agreed.

It took four more invitations to tea and Louis’ repeated offers to help before Michael told him everything that had happened to him and his friend. The man was very moved at all that he heard. When Michael came to the part when he left the Largons, he asked Michael the reason why.

“Because I was angry at my friends for raising my hopes high and then disappointing me.” Michael answered.

“But their hopes had been high, too.” Louis reminded him. “Why did they not get angry at Patrick?”

“Because they had agreed with him.” Michael answered.

“And you hadn't?” Louis asked.

Michael opened his mouth and then shut it again, for he had no answer.

“Are you a Catholic?” Louis asked. Michael shifted uneasily.

“Why do you ask that?” He inquired.

“Because, in my opinion, had you been one, you would not have been so easily discouraged at Our Lady's 'refusal' to answer you prayer.”

“But I had prayed, too!” Michael protested. “Even when I hadn't been praying for many years, and She still didn't listen!”

“Let me ask you this; would you have changed if She did listen?”

“I don't know!” Michael answered impatiently. “What's that got to do with it?”

“It has a lot to do with it.” Louis said firmly. “I think She didn't answer your prayers because She wants you to become Catholic again, and if She had answered your prayers, you would've simply said 'Thank you' and then gone on living the way you were.”

Michael said nothing.

“Anyway, forgive my interruption. Please continue.”

Michael told him about the return trip and finally the letter. He repeated it word for word to the best of his ability, for he had thrown it in the fire. This detail was kept from Louis.

“How touching!” Louis said. “Well...is that all that’s happened up to this point?”

“Yes.” Michael nodded. “So far, anyway.”

“Would you like to talk about something else? Do you want to talk about me?”

“Of course.” Michael said.

Thus the conversation was turned to his elderly friend, and the more Michael knew him, the more he liked him. He never lost his temper with Michael and kept inviting the young professor to his house ‘for tea’. Michael was a trifle concerned at receiving so many invitations, but he couldn’t refuse and soon discovered that it was just the man’s generosity.

It had been a few months since John’s letter, and, though Michael knew mail was not fast, he kept hoping and almost praying for a letter, but none arrived. Michael grew worried and he feared the worst was a reality. He said as much to Louis.

“So you haven’t received another letter since you got the first?”

“No.” Michael sighed. Exasperated, he blurted. “It’s almost as if he knew I threw the first into-” He stopped.

“I beg your pardon?” Louis asked. Michael sighed heavily.

“Sir... maybe there’s something you should know. That letter I received from John... I threw it into the fire.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Become a Catholic again.” Michael sighed.

“But why?” Louis cried.

“Because I... I’m not worthy... I’ve done so much... so many things...” Michael buried his face in his hands.

“So many things that were... good?” Louis asked, confused.

“No! Wrong!” Michael cried. “I left home when I was seventeen, because I wanted to go to Royal Falcon University, and my father wouldn’t let me. He said that I should wait awhile longer and be well-grounded in my faith, for I wasn’t a very good Catholic, and universities have way of corrupting people, especially young people... and... I wouldn’t wait. I wanted to become famous, no matter the cost, even if the cost was my immortal soul, so I left. Well, as he predicted, I started to do things that were wrong simply because others were doing them and I wanted to be like others. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a very good child or adult, so I didn’t care whether or not they were wrong. Don’t think I’m not blaming that on my father! He tried many times to correct me, but I just found ways of doing things behind his back, even when almost everything he said was right. Oh, he was right about sooo many things. Well, fathers, good ones, usually are. Anyway, not long after I arrived at the university, I collided with evil students who had formed a secret club whose main goal was to find Catholics, make them renounce their faith, torture and humiliate them if they didn’t, and, in short, rid the university of them.”

“What a disgusting organization!” Louis cried.

“I know.” Michael sighed. “I had managed to avoid the group for a few weeks, but after that they caught me and wouldn’t let me go until I had renounced my faith. They also threatened me with torments, inside the classroom and out if I had the audacity to keep my faith, and since they were very strong and muscular, while I was a trifle thin, I renounced it because my faith was even thinner than my body. They left me alone after that. A few months later, I even joined their group...”

“Oh, my beloved child!” Louis cried in great distress. Michael smiled.

“You misunderstood me.” He answered. “You see, I joined the group because of John. The moment I laid eyes on John, I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but I knew he was Catholic and the ‘Cat Haters’, as the group was thus called in an attempt to degrade Catholics by shortening the word Catholic to ‘cat’, would capture him and try to make him renounce his faith. Well, I tried to talk to him into giving it up, but he spoke so convincingly and earnestly, I was impressed, for he was only fourteen. The ‘Cat Haters’, however, remained as a worry to me, so I joined their group and asked that I might be given John as my assigned ‘Cat’. They agreed, but I do believe that I was the softest man in their group. After awhile, they started calling me ‘the back-stabber’.”

“Why?”

“Because, not only did I get nowhere with John, whom I hardly tormented, but I often thwarted their attempts to capture other Catholics.”

“How?”

“Since I was a member, I had to attend their meetings during which they would discuss their plans. At first, I wished I didn’t have to attend those stupid meetings, but then I saw the advantage and used it wisely. Even though I was very careful about keeping my acts hidden, they still found out, and after threats and warnings, they ‘removed’ me from the organization. This act, however, didn’t stop me from helping the Catholics.” He laughed gaily. “Oh, how they hated me!”

“So, you did much for the Catholic students?”

“Yes, I did.” He smiled. “I even got together 21 men and started my own organization.”

“You did!” Louis cried. “And what was it called?”

“The ‘Thorn’.” Michael smiled, as Louis raised a confused eyebrow. “Well, you know how a very holy person will sometimes be called ‘a thorn in satan’s side’.”

“Oh.” Louis laughed. “I can guess, then, the goal of the the ‘Thorn’.”

“Yes.” Michael said proudly. “I taught the members how to counteract the tactics of the ‘Cat Haters’ and soon it was a battlefield.” He paused, smiling at the memory. “We begged the headmaster to let us sleep together, which he allowed us to do. We grouped our dormitories together and set up sentries to make sure that there would be no surprise attacks during the night.”

“Were there?”

“Oh, yes.” Michael answered. “The ‘Cat Haters’ had asked around and soon discovered in which dormitory I slept. A few days after the ‘The Thorn’ started, they attacked that dormitory, trying to get at me. They didn’t get very far. My fellow ‘Thorns’ pricked them so hard they soon had to retreat, especially since other students had heard the squabble and had reported it to the headmaster, who walked in great haste to the dormitory. When he got there, all traces of the fight were gone and we were all ‘asleep’, so he let us be. The ‘Cat Haters’, their pride stung and worried that the ‘Thorn’ was stronger than they had first guessed, tried again. I was walking down a corridor by myself when they attacked me and dragged me to their den. They told me that if I didn’t stop the ‘Thorn’, they wouldn’t allow me to walk without a few bruises.”

“Did you stop it?”

“No.” Michael assured him. “I told them that I was not going to let their organization go without some competition. I also told them that they were cowards since they couldn’t bear the thought of fighting a worthy opponent. At that, they promptly gave me much more than ‘a few bruises’, which made me unconscious. When my companions finally found me, they were afraid that I would put an end to the organization, but I promised them that I wouldn’t since it was obviously doing good.”

“Indeed it was!” Louis exclaimed. “Was John in the ‘Thorn’?”

“No.”

“Why not? Was it because he wanted to keep peace?”

“No, it was because he never knew about it.” Michael smiled.

“But why not?”

“Because I didn’t want him to keep me from fighting physically with the ‘Cat Haters’, which was my favorite form of attack.” Michael laughed.

“Well, I guess that’s understandable.” Louis chuckled. “So you started the ‘Thorn’ because of John?”

“Yes, and also because I felt that a man has a right to be in whatever religion he wants to. The same sentiments were felt by the ‘Cat Haters’, except that nobody had a right to be Catholic. If they think that an atheist can be an atheist, that a protestant can be a protestant, then a Catholic should be allowed to be a Catholic, but no! That was unacceptable. I also didn’t like the ‘Cat Haters’ anyway.” He added.

“Well, as far as the bad things you have done, your running away from home, denying your faith, and your reaction to God’s Will in regards to your friends foot were wrong, very wrong,” Louis said gently, but firmly. “However, the things that you did for the Catholics of the Royal Falcon University were wonderful, which shows that there is good in you. It just needs to be brought to the surface, which, I think, is why God and Our Lady allowed this to happen. They want you to return to the Faith that you lost, so show Them that you can be strong, with Their help, and have hope. I do believe that John will not be lame for life.”

A few days later, Michael heard that there was a boat from France docking at the port. He quickly ran to the spot. His heart was pounding in his ears and he again heard the words of Louis, ‘I do believe that John will not be lame for life.’

“Oh, God.” Michael prayed. “I beg You, let John be healed. Please!”

When he reached the port, he saw that it had already docked and the passengers were milling about. Gazing around, he caught sight of a familiar face.

“John!” He cried happily. He pushed his way through the crowd to his old friend. “Oh, John! It’s so good - to see you-again... ” He words slowed to a halt when he stood before his friend. There was John, smiling, calm, and in every way the same friend he had known, except that he had only one foot, and he was on crutches!

Michael stared numbly in shock, then he slowly turned around, and returned to his house. Once there, he flung himself onto a couch. He wanted to accuse God of this catastrophe, but then he thought of what Louis would say. He wanted to say that it was Mary's fault, but he thought of what John would say and what he had said.

“Why do I care what they will say?” He asked himself angrily. “Mr. Louis is a stupid old man, and John isn't my friend anymore. I don't care what they say!”

“Professor!” His butler called.

“What is it, Thomas?” He answered.

“Mr. Louis is at the door.”

“Oh, is he now?” Michael groaned. “You can let him in... I guess.”

There was a whispered conversation and soon Louis was ushered into Michael's presence.

“Why are you here?” Michael asked sullenly.

“God's Providence brought me here.” Louis replied.

“I can believe that.” Michael laughed bitterly, though quietly.

“Exactly what do you mean?” Louis asked.

“I mean that at times when I don’t want something to happen, God makes sure that it happens, such as your coming here.” Michael complained.

“Why didn’t you want me to come?” Louis asked him.

“Because I’m... upset at the moment and I don’t want you to hear me because I might cause you pain if I start losing my temper and shouting words that you think...” He sighed. “....and probably are untrue.”

“And why would you lose your temper?” Louis inquired.

“Because John’s a cripple.” Michael responded.

“Oh...” Louis said. “Well, we should accept God’s Will. As I’ve said...”

“I know what you’ve said!” Michael burst out. He struggled to control himself. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to convince myself that God let this happen for a good reason and He’s not... not... look, I know I need to be able to take these trials, but it’s been a long time since I’ve tried to deny my will of anything, so don’t try to talk to me! I’m just going to abuse you with my words, and I don’t want to do that. You’re not a bad man. In fact, you’re one of the best I know, except for John, and you don’t deserve to hear me lose my temper and say things about you and God that aren’t true.”

“If you are afraid to sadden me by saying things about me that aren’t true, then you should also be afraid to say those things about God that aren’t true as well, for He is here, even if you are by yourself.”

“True enough.” Michael said.

“Don’t you believe that?” Louis asked.

“I guess so.” Michael murmured. “It’s just that...it’s just that I’ve never felt Him.”

“Most people don’t feel Him,” Louis replied. “If they did, there wouldn’t be a test of faith, for we believe He is there through faith.”

“Look, please, just go.” Michael repeated. Louis sighed and turned to leave. Before he left, though. he turned to Michael and said.

“Alright I shall leave, and all I ask is this: don’t break my heart as you did so long ago.”

“What do you mean?” Michael asked. “I’ve never seen you before in my life! Well, I mean before I met you.”

“I knew your father.”

“You did?!”

“Yes, and as his heart was broken, so was mine. Don’t cause me the pain of seeing you remain hardened against God.” Louis face grew stern. “You thought your father was stern and didn’t want you to appreciate the joys of life, yet you have proven, against your will, the truth of his words. If the words he spoke later will be fulfilled in the way that he doesn’t want them to, then I fear for your soul.”

“What were the words he spoke?” Michael whispered, blood draining from his cheeks.

“'Either my son shall be saved by his name sake or he shall perish through the infernal enemy. If the former is fulfilled, then he shall be happy and at peace, but..." His voice took fire. "If the latter is fulfilled, then he shall never know peace and happiness, and shall never again see his earthly father and, most especially, he will never see his Heavenly Father if he remains obstinate.' ”

“No!” Michael whispered.

Without another word, Louis departed. Michael sat in a daze.

“I wonder why he never told me that he knew my father? My father! Oh, how I wish I could see him again! No, he’s stern and hard and...and...and I probably just think he’s that way because I was a brat. Besides, even if he was that way, how do I know he hasn’t changed? I need to give him a chance, and I need someone who I can lean upon. I mean, I guess I have Louis, but I need someone I’m related to.”

“Professor?” Thomas began.

“Let me guess, Louis is back?” Michael asked, half-joking and half-hoping that it was true.

“Well, no.” Thomas said. “There is a telegram from the Largons, and...”

“The Largons!” Michael bounded from his seat. “What does it say?!”

"It just says that they want you to come over right away because there's something wrong with Master John."

By the time he had finished, Michael was already in a carriage, racing for the Largons' house. When he reached it, Mrs. Largon was sitting in a chair weeping, and her husband was standing behind her, trying to console her.

"What's wrong?" Michael asked.

"It's... John... " Kathleen sobbed.

"Remember how John's foot needed to be amputated?" Patrick said. Michael nodded. "Well, it seems that the doctor cut too close to an important artery. He scraped it and it's been getting weaker ever since, and this afternoon it....broke. He’s bleeding to death!"

“What! No, it can’t be!” The professor cried. “Where’s John?”

“In there,” Kathleen sobbed, pointing to a door. “He’s already received Holy Viaticum....and he’s unconscious.”

Michael rushed into the room and found John in a canopy bed, quite unconscious. The cloths around his mutilated ankle were saturated with blood. Michael flung himself on his knees beside his senseless friend.

“Oh, God,” He wept. “Why did You do this to him? I am the one who deserves to die! John never ran away from home against his father’s wishes. He never renounced his faith. He never grew angry at the Blessed Virgin for not healing his foot. He never did a lot of things! Why did You do this to him?”

“Because this is how He treats all of his ‘followers’. He is a tyrant and you alone had the brains to realize that!” A little voice inside of him said. “Why did you go back to such folly?”

“But it’s... it’s not folly... ” Michael responded.

“Yes it is.” The voice said softly. “It has never given you happiness.”

“That’s because I never knew what it was.” Michael protested. “I’m only now discovering what it really is.”

“Indeed you are.” The voice replied. “You now see to what end these poor, ignorant, helpless people are brought. This boy could’ve enjoyed a long life, but he is being robbed of it! And Who is robbing him?”

“Go away!” Michael commanded.

“Your so-called God did! Look at what He did to His Son! Do you think He would let John escape?”

“Christ died so that we could go to heaven.” Michael answered. “Maybe...maybe that’s why John’s dying...maybe he offered to sacrifice his life so that I will convert and thus save my soul.”

“How can you hope to save your soul!” The voice cried, changing it’s soft tone to a hard one. “You are the one who’s been unfaithful! You have ridiculed God and Mary! This is your punishment! John will die!”

“No!” Michael cried. “Oh, God, please, don’t let it be so!”

“How can you hope for mercy?” The voice hissed.

“God!” Michael shouted. “God, please, hear me! I will become a Catholic and remain one all my life, even if John dies! Just please let me tell John I love him.”

“He won’t listen to you.” The voice answered. “He never has and He never will. John won’t awaken! You’ll never see him again.”

“God, how can You do this?” Michael shouted.

“What did you expect? You who think you can escape the abyss.”

“No! No! God, please, no!” Michael screamed.

“You are mine!” The voice answered. “God gave up on you years ago.”

“Have I really been that evil, My God?” Michael sobbed.

“Yes, you have.” The voice replied.

“I wasn’t asking you!” Michael shouted. His exhaustion turned into frustration and he cried out. “Fine! God, if You’re going to kill John, who is innocent, and if You are not going to take me to heaven because of the bad things I’ve done, well then.....”

“Say it!” The voice urged. “Say what you feel. Say what you know! Say the truth!”

“Then may Thy Will be done!” Michael finished.

“What!!” The voice screeched. “That’s not the truth!”

“Yes, it is!” Michael said firmly. “And you know it is, satan!

“No!” The voice raged.

“If God wants to take John to Heaven, then...” He smiled. “...willingly will John go.” Looking down at his friend, Michael’s smile deepened, and, bending over John, Michael kissed his forehead. “Go home!” He said. “I can’t think of anyone who deserves it more.”

“And I can’t think of anyone who deserves hell more!” satan cried.

“It is true.” Michael admitted. “I do deserve hell, but then again, who doesn’t. The Saints would’ve gone to hell if God hadn’t helped them overcome their faults. If He helped them, I don’t see why He won’t help me if I ask Him to.”

“He won’t help you!” satan hissed. “He didn’t help those wretches! They were miserable. They just pretended to be happy!”

“How can you pretend to be happy?” Michael asked. “You can pretend to be sad, but you can’t pretend to be happy, unless you were insane.”

“They were insane! They were...”

“Oh, leave me alone.” Michael interrupted. “I don’t care what you say. It’s all untrue. I’m going to become a Catholic!”

“You’re making a mistake, but you’ll find that out.” satan retorted. “Then you will come to me, begging me to make you happy. I can, you know...”

“Oh, really?” Michael asked sarcastically. “How?”

“I can bring this young man back to life...” satan whispered.

Michael heart stopped beating. Bring John back to life? There was only one way to bring John back to life outside of God’s Will. Michael began to tremble.

“Why not?” satan asked quietly, sensing the man’s fears. “I thought this young man meant more to you than anything else in the world?”

“Not to the extent that I would use witchcraft in order to keep him with me!” Michael gasped, horrified.

“You will have more power...”

“No! I don’t want power!”

“You can have anything you want...”

“Go away!”

“I’m the one who works the miracles that have been falsely attributed to God...”

“St. Michael!” The man cried. “Rid this room of the infernal demons that assail me! Please! I belong to God alone! I... am... a...” - One moment of hesitation, then victory - “...Catholic!”

He thought he heard the voice scream, and then...there was silence. Michael fell to the ground. The fear of the temptations that he had been battling overpowered him.

“Oh, God, give me a sign.” He prayed. “Show me that I’m forgiven of my many sins. Please.”

As he was praying, he looked toward his sleeping friend. As soon as the words had left his mouth, the corners of the lad’s mouth turned up. Michael eyes widened.

“Dear God, is this Your sign?” He asked breathlessly.

John’s smile deepened and he laughed a little in his sleep.

“God, take him or leave him.” Michael cried joyfully. “No matter what happens, I’ll never leave the faith again! I promise! You’ve been too good for me to do that! Thank You so much!”

Strengthened and immensely happy, Michael rose and once again kissed John’s forehead.

“Thank you, too!” He said to the sleeping form. “May God reward your patience. I love you, John.”

John laughed again. Michael looked at him one last time, then left the room. The Largons were shocked to see him so happy.

“Was Johnny cured?” Mrs. Largon asked hopefully.

“No.” Michael smiled. “But I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

Weeping, Mrs. Largon rushed into John’s room and her husband followed her. Since his hosts were occupied, Michael quietly took his leave. When he returned to his house, he was both shocked and overjoyed to see Louis there.

“Mr. Louis!” He cried, embracing the elder man. “You’ll never guess what happened!”

Before the man could protest, Michael launched into the events of the his visit to the Largons.

“You certainly have been blessed.” Louis said, when Michael finished.

“I know!” Michael answered. “And you were right about John. He will be alright! Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve been right about a lot of things.”

“Have I?” Louis asked. “Well, it makes sense, for ‘fathers, good ones, usually are’.”

Michael sat bolt upright.

“Can it be...?” He stammered. Louis nodded.

“It is, my dear son.” He smiled.

“Blessed be God!” Michael said, breaking down. “Oh my father, I missed you so much!”

“As I missed you.” Louis added.

“Father, forgive me!” Michael wept, falling to his knees before him. “I did so much against you and against the faith!”

“But you have repented.” Louis added. “And you have made me very happy by doing so!”

“Now I know why in the space of three months you invited me to your house 47 times!”

“Was it that many?!” Louis asked, embarrassed.

“Count my invitations.” Michael answered laughingly. “I know also why you were so upset when I told all of those things. Had I known you were my father...you never would’ve heard those things.”

“That’s why I never told you who I was.” Louis admitted. “I wanted see you again, but I knew that my identity would restrain you from seeing me, so I restrained my identity.”

“Professor!”

“Yes, Thomas?” Michael called.

“The Largons sent you an urgent-”

“Come on, Mr. Lou-I mean-father!” Michael cried, not waiting for Thomas to finish. He grabbed his father’s hand and literally dragged him to the Largons, which, fortunately, wasn’t far away. When they got there, Mrs. Largon, who’s eyes were red from weeping, was sitting nervously in the parlor. She looked up when Michael and Louis entered.

“Who is he?” She asked, referring to Louis.

“My father.” Michael replied.

Mrs. Largon then pointed to John’s door. “He kept calling for you before he - ” She stopped, and turned away, bursting into tears as she did so.

“Please wait out here, father.” Michael said. Louis nodded and sat upon a couch, while Michael entered the room. When he opened the door, he saw a man gazing out the window. Mr. Largon was sitting on a chair by the bed, whose curtains were closed, weeping.

“Sir, are you the doctor?” Michael asked the man by the window.

“Weep for your friend no more.” The man answered, without turning around. “For he suffers no more.”

“I know.” Michael said quietly.

“No, I'm serious.” The man insisted as he faced Michael. Michael froze, but only for a moment.

“JOHN!” He screamed. The great waves of shock, relief, and joy overwhelmed him and he fainted.

When Michael came to, he saw the Largons bending over him as well as Louis.

“Are you alright, my son?” Louis asked anxiously.

“You certainly were surprised.” John smiled.

“‘Surprised’? My dear friend, I had a heart-attack.” Michael exclaimed indignantly. “Would you mind telling me the reason for such deception?”

“It wasn’t deception.” John smiled. “We just...withheld...a few of the facts.”

“Few?!” Michael cried.

“Oh, come now, Michael.” John laughed. “We wanted it to be a surprise. Besides, Our Lady didn’t come and cure me personally just so that we’d become enemies.”

“Well, I didn’t think we’d be enemies, but I still say that you-...wait a minute!” Michael exclaimed. “You say Our Lady came personally? What happened?”

“Well, I was lying alone in my room after I received Holy Viaticum. Father and Mother were seeing Fr. Harrison to the door, and while they were gone, I fainted. It then seemed that my bed was surrounded in darkness, which was dissipated somewhat when you came into my room. I saw you struggling with yourself, while satan was on your left side whispering in your ear, but St. Michael was on your right, encouraging you. When you become afraid and begged St. Michael to save you, he plunged his sword in satan’s gut up to the hilt. The devil screamed and fell through the floor. Even when he was gone, though, you were afraid for your salvation. When you asked God to give you a sign, St. Michael told me to smile, which I did. When you asked God if that was the sign, St. Michael looked at you and said: ‘Why do you think that I just told him to smile?’, and that’s what made me laugh. When you told me that you loved me, St. Michael sarcastically said: ‘No!’. I think he did that to make me laugh, because I did. After that, you left, and when you did, Mary appeared. She thanked me for persevering when She didn’t heal my foot and She...”

Michael lowered his head in shame, but John put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not finished.” He said. “She said that She didn’t heal my foot so that you might come back to Her and She wanted you to be reunited with your father. She told me She was very pleased when you did both. She then turned to me and asked me if I would be willing to remain a cripple all my life if it would give glory to Her and Her Son. I told Her that I was willing to be lame for all eternity of that would give glory to them and I added that you were willing to let me be so, too. Our Lady then turned to me and said: ‘Then be thou made whole’. At that point, I woke up and started screaming for you. My parents asked me what was the matter. I threw aside the blanket and broke down. Then I dispatched a message to your house and while we were waiting, we thanked Our Lady for the cure.”

“Well, I think we all should thank Her for many other things as well.” Louis said, looking at Michael.

“John, can you come here?” Michael asked, getting up from the bed he had been laying on and going into the parlor. John followed, while the Largons and Louis, being polite, stayed in the room and talked.

“John, I want you to answer this question truthfully. The question is this: did you offer your life so that I might save my soul?” Michael asked. John lowered his eyes. “If you did, I have a right to know because I’m the person you offered your life for.” Michael reminded him. John sighed.

“Yes, I did.” He answered quietly.

“Why?” Michael smiled.

“I guess...I guess I just thought that the only way to get you to become a Catholic was to give my life for that.”

“Does my religion mean that much to you? Am I really worth all that?” Michael asked.

“Anything for the good of an immortal soul is definitely worth it.” John replied.

“Did you ask your parents if you could offer your life for that purpose?” Michael inquired.

“Yes, and they said I could, after much persuasion.” John answered. Michael looked at him in a somewhat angry manner. “Look,” John said quickly. “I didn’t mean for you to know! It was a secret and I wanted it to remain that way! I’m not trying to say that I’m a saint or something like that...it’s just that-” He stopped and sighed.

“If I was driven farther from the church by your accident, it was more of a hindrance than a help!” Michael said. John lowered his eyes.

“I didn’t mean for it to be hindrance.” He said quietly. “I just thought that you...needed it.”

“Did you?” Michael asked. “Well, as much I hate to say this....you were right.” John looked up, confused. “I did need it.” Michael explained. “And I owe my return to the faith and my return to my father to you. Thank you!” He embraced John affectionately.

“Well-uh-your welcome.” The boy stammered. Michael just smiled.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Mr. Largon went to answer it and came back with Mr. Wonton.

“I wanted to apologize for my friend’s clumsy act that caused you to lose your foot.” He said to John, who was standing were Mr. Wonton couldn’t see his foot.

“But I didn’t lose my foot!” John smiled. He got off the bed and walked where Mr. Wonton could see it.

“So it wasn’t really crushed?”

“Oh no!” John exclaimed. “It was crushed so terribly that the doctors had to cut it off! But Our Lady healed it!”

At this point, the others joined John and Michael. Mr. Wonton stood looking at the floor for a long time. Then he looked up and said.
“I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I feel that I must.” He took a deep breath. “Master Largon was pushed into the street on purpose by Mr. Morgaine. He was trying to take revenge upon Pr. Wayne.”

“Why?” Louis asked.

“Because of the ‘Thorn’.” He said, looking at Michael.

“The what?” John asked.

“Don’t you remember me?” Mr. Wonton asked Michael.

“Fredric Rue?” Michael asked. Mr. ‘Wonton’ nodded.

“Yes, that is my name. Mr. Morgaine’s name is really Henry Dower.”

“He was your founder, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, and he wouldn’t let go of the humiliations you caused the ‘Cat Haters’ to feel. He knew that you loved Master Largon and that Master Largon was, in fact, the reason you started the ‘Thorn’, so he decided to-...at least mortally wound him. I tried to stop him, but all I succeeded in doing was make him promise to hurt Master Largon, not kill him. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“So why were you there when John was pushed?” Michael asked.

“To make sure that Dower kept his promise about letting him live.”

“That’s why you were so upset when John fell?” Michael asked, though it was more of a statement. Fredric nodded.

“Thank you for telling us that, young man.” Mr. Largon.

“Don’t thank me.” Fredric replied. “I didn’t save your son. I haven’t earned thanks.”

“Yes, you have, Fredric.” Michael said. “With this information, we can close down the Wonton Morgaine Press and Books factory once and for all.”

There was a loud commotion and the front door burst open. Mr. Dower flew into the room.

“Wonton.” He falsely called his partner. “I’ve been looking all over for you. We’ve a lot of work to do - ” His jaw dropped when he saw John with two feet. “But... but he... I thought...”

“You thought a lot of things, Henry.” Michael said, standing up and facing his arch-nemesis. “Unfortunately, almost all of those things were wrong.”

“How did he get two feet?” Henry demanded.

“Our Lady gave me my foot back.” John said.

“No thanks to you.” Michael said to Henry. “You are going to prison for harassing many Catholics, for spreading disgusting literature, and for trying to kill John.”

“It may not be as easy as you think to get me there.” Henry said. He reached into his coat and pulled out a gun. “If anyone moves, he dies.”

“Only if God permits it.” Michael said. “He always protects those who trust Him.”

“Oh, really?” Henry asked. Pointing the revolver at Michael, he squeezed the trigger.

“No!” Fredric screamed.

“Michael!” John shouted.

“My son!” Louis cried.

Michael jolted back when the bullet struck him.

“So much for the protecting. You're putting your trust in an old-wives tale, ‘back-stabber’.” Henry chided.

“An old-wives tale?” Michael asked, with a touch of irony, as he pulled something out of his shirt. Henry paled. There in Michael’s hand was the bullet, without any blood or flesh on it. Henry shot Michael again. This time Michael caught the bullet before it reached him. Screaming uncontrollably, Henry kept shooting him until his gun was empty. Michael still stood before him, unharmed.

“Do you see the power, protection, and reality of God now?” Michael asked.

“You’re a witch! A witch!” Henry screamed. He turned and fled from the house. Fredric started to go after him, but Michael stopped him.

“Let him be.” He said. “We’ll catch up to him sooner or later. He doesn't realize that, by trying to kill me, he's earned more prison time.”

“How were you able to be so brave when he was shooting you?” Mr. Largon asked. The others asked the same.

“I wasn’t afraid,” Michael replied. “Because I knew that it, along with everything that has happened to me these past few months, was just a test.”

“A test?” John asked.

“Yes.” Michael answered. He turned to his father and whispered. “A test of faith.”

Louis said nothing, but his smile revealed a love that would last forever between them, and a faith that, strengthened in their love for each other and God, would endure to...

As was expected, Henry Dower was sentenced to 12 years in prison for the attempted murder of John Largon and Pr. Wayne. Soon after, the Wonton Morgaine Press and Books lost it’s reputation of selling evil literature, for Fredric gave it to the Largons who used it to sell many a Catholic book. Michael, with his father beside him, returned to the Royal Falcon University to teach there and to tell the elated ‘Thorns’ that were left that he was a Catholic. The ‘Thorns’ that had gone, he told through mail. Michael’s Catholicism, along with the ‘Thorn’s’ new members, Fredric and John, strengthened it against the attacks of the new leader of the ‘Cat Haters’, Leonard Vile, who was even worse then his predecessor. However, there was one thing that the successor lacked, which was courage. Thus, after awhile, the courage of the ‘Cat Haters’ began to wane and they soon left the ‘Thorn’ alone, but that doesn’t mean the ‘Thorn’ died out. Indeed, it grew stronger, for now it could give a good example without starting a fight . Many more members came and joined it, and it was the glory of the university, for not only was it’s leader courageous, patient, and cunning, but, most importantly, he was a Catholic and would be one forever, for he had passed the test of faith with flying colors.