Conversation (2)

Jordan and Bradford had expected this outcome but knew they needed to try. What Partridge said about the extra attention at the church (and especially the Corps) meant that unless there was a guarantee that demons are involved and many civilians were at risk, usage of Providence wouldn't be allowed.

"Not that mine is necessarily needed, but I also vote no," Palmers said. He shared a knowing glance with Greene that Jordan didn't miss.

"I'm sorry," Partridge turned back to Jordan and Bradford, "But knowing how much William trusts you, I am willing to allow you and your partner some time off from your Corps to watch over this Mr Gilbert."

It wasn't what Jordan hoped for, but it was at least something. An olive branch that Jack Partridge extended to him.

Before Greene could kick up a fuss, Partridge laid down some conditions for Jordan to follow during the time he and Emily guard Joshua Gilbert.

First and foremost: they only had till the end of the week. They could only watch over Joshua for three days. If nothing happens by the end of the week, then they must return to their Corps duties.

Secondly: Jordan and Emily must keep their involvement on the down low. The public was already extremely critical of the Corps' existence. It would be detrimental to their operations if the public find out that Corps pastors were on an unofficial investigation, at a hospital no less.

And lastly: unless real and unshakable proof that connects Gould to Joshua Gilbert's accident is found, Jordan had to stop investigating the man.

The meeting ended shortly after that. Before he exited the meeting room, Bradford placed a hand on Jordan's shoulder.

"You tried your best."

Jordan nodded but stayed silent as he gathered the papers that the men left. Bradford left after that.

Owens and Palmers left quickly and were already out of sight, while Greene still stood behind his seat and Partridge stayed seated in his. When Jordan reached for Partridge's copy of the papers, Partridge raised his hand to stop him.

"I think I'll keep a copy of this. If not only to pray for Mr Gilbert," the old man explained.

"All right," Jordan said respectfully.

Jordan placed the last stapled set of papers into the folder he brought with him for the meeting and tucked his seat neatly at the meeting table.

"Thank you for your time," Jordan said flatly. He avoided looking at Greene as he walked to the door.

As he walked out of the meeting room, he could hear Greene's heavy steps behind him, but Partridge stopped him in his tracks.

"Isaac, stay a moment. I have something to discuss with you," Partridge spoke.

Jordan glanced behind him quickly and noted that Partridge had a hard and serious expression on his face. For a split second, he questioned whether he should try and eavesdrop on the conversation, but he decided against it as he had a lot of things to organise for the next few days.

In the meeting room, Greene closed the door. He was still agitated by Jordan's words of critique and had a familiar physical ache of craving a cigarette, though he had stopped smoking a few years ago.

"What's up?" Greene said. He hoped that a casual conversation was what Partridge had in mind, but when he turned around to face his peer, all he could see was his friend's stiff and judgemental look.

"What happened during the meeting?" Partridge asked. He kept his cold gaze on Greene.

Greene was especially taken aback by Partridge's tone, "What do you mean?"

"I know that you don't see eye to eye with Bradford, and Lane especially, but why were you so confrontational during the meeting?"

"I wouldn't say 'confrontational'—"

"Don't!" Partridge commanded, "I'm happy that you seem to have found where the next chapter of your journey might be headed, but you and I have known each other for a very long time, so please don't turn all politician-like like that to me. What happened in the meeting?"

Greene had been known all throughout his life to be the kind of person that could debate anyone about anything. He was headstrong, well-read, and quick on his feet, which were all good traits for an aspiring politician to have. However, there was one person he couldn't go against, and that was Jack Partridge.

He sighed and leant heavily on the back of the chair opposite Partridge.

"I guess I was confrontational because Lane brought up Henry Gould," Greene said once he calmed himself, "Bradford gives Lane too much freedom."

"And you're also not a fan of how progressive they are," Partridge's gaze softened now that Greene had simmered down.

"You know me, Jack," Greene said, "I'm a fan of the classic — of the old days of church, how orthodox it was, when hymns were sung, and people used to dress up to go to church."

Greene's face soured on that last point.

"You know, I actually saw a man — a grown man — come into church last week dressed in a novelty t-shirt, cargo shorts and flip-flops?" Greene asked.

Partridge nodded, "I saw him. Lane introduced him to me after the service. It was one of the men that lived with him in that share house of his. Can't seem to remember his name…"

At the mention of Jordan, Greene started getting agitated again.

"Of course, Lane knew him."

Partridge smiled, but there was sadness behind that smile, "I do admit that I miss church like the one I grew up in as a boy," the old man paused, "But times change, and if the church wants to survive, it must change with the times. That's why I founded Holy Grace in the first place."

Greene shook his head in defeat, "I know, I know."

"Let's be a bit more open-minded to the progressives from now on, okay?" Partridge said, "Outbursts like the one that happened during the meeting are very unseemly. Especially for old folks like us. Like it or not, they are the future of the church. Of our church."

Greene sighed, "I'll try my best."

"But that's not the only reason why I asked you to stay behind for a little bit," Partridge cleared his throat and gathered his belongings, his cell, a travel mug, and his keys, along with Jordan's papers.

Partridge stood. One hand was holding the papers Jordan printed and the other hand on the back of his chair as he tucked it in, "About Henry Gould…"

Greene started to tense again and pre-emptively spoke, "Lane was simply reaching—"

"Isaac," Partridge said calmly, "I'm not saying that I believe Lane's accusations about the man."

"O—okay…"

"I just wanted to remind you to not let Gould's money control you and make you lose sight of yourself and what you stand for whilst campaigning," Partridge said, "and I especially pray that the money won't make you lose sight of God."

"I see," Greene sighed again, this time with relief. He nodded, "Of course."

"Good," Partridge smiled.