“I swear I saw her sneak a swig from a hidden flask and tuck it back under her habit when we were in third grade at the orphanage.” Roberto’s voice hardened at the memory of the stern reverend mother. “You know that’s why they call their uniform ‘a habit.’ It’s so they can hide all their bad habits.” Roberto laughed at his own clever pun. “I just thought of that. Pretty good, right?”
“Sure. Remember that wooden stick she used to discipline you with? It was once a ruler. She struck so many children that all the lines wore off.”
“That’s because she was a raging alcoholic,” Roberto said, rubbing the back of his hand. He’d never shed a tear despite the frequent corporal punishment. He’d refused to give Mother Maria Francis the satisfaction of seeing him cry. “She displayed all the classic signs of an alcoholic.”
Mario knew his best friend harbored deep-seated issues from their shared time in the orphanage. His endless parade of romantic conquests after becoming a millionaire was a clear attempt to mask the pain from the harsh treatment he’d received from the nuns and priests. Mario, on the other hand, had found solace in their care.
“Ready for another one?” Roberto asked, eager to share another of his theories.
“What else you got?” Mario said, rolling his eyes in anticipation.
“The LGBT community blatantly snubbing God,” Roberto began, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial tone.
“How’s that?”
“It’s a stroke of genius, really.” Roberto paused, building suspense before launching into his argument. “In the biblical tale of Noah and the flood, God presented a rainbow as a covenant to Noah and his family, promising never to unleash such destruction again.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the scripture. ‘Never again will there be a flood to destroy all life. When I see the rainbow in the clouds, I will remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature on Earth. This is the sign of my covenant with all the creatures of the earth’,” Mario quoted from memory, his seminary education serving him well.
“Very good, my young Padawan.”
“Who’s the Padawan?”
“Just kidding, Anakin.”
“You’re barely older than me by a few months.”
“Yeah, yeah. Details, details,” Roberto waved off the comment.
“Continue with your theory please.”
“The LGBT community chose the rainbow flag as their symbol to represent them. Did you know it was first created in San Francisco, California in 1978?”
Mario gestured impatiently for Roberto to get to the point.
“Alright, here’s the punchline: by flying the rainbow flag at every pride parade, every march, every event, it’s as if they’re using it as a divine shield. It’s like they’re throwing God’s own words back at Him, saying, ‘You can’t touch me’, all the while wearing broad smiles knowing God will never send another cataclysmic event to wipe out all life on Earth,” Roberto finished, looking to Mario for validation.
“That’s quite the leap, Berto, though I’ll give you points for creativity,” Mario conceded, taking a sip of his wine while studying his friend. “Where do you come up with these wild theories?”
“I can’t really say. They just come to me, you know. I see something, it sends me down a rabbit hole of thoughts, and voilà: rainbow, Noah, LGBTQ community. Ta-da!” Roberto spread his arms wide like a magician revealing his trick.
“Wow. Your mind truly is amazing.” Mario shook his head.
“Enough about my theories—share some details about your new role,” Roberto said, transitioning his attention away from his narcissistic thoughts back to Mario.
“What, so you can concoct more outlandish theories?”
“Come on, spill the beans.” Roberto appeared anxious to hear about the enigmatic Vatican Secret Archives.
“Let’s head over to your computer. I’ll show you some information online.”
They both sauntered down the corridor towards the second of Roberto’s five bedrooms, a space that doubled as his home office and man cave.
“The Archives are exactly as you’d imagine,” Mario said, settling into the chair next to Roberto’s. “Like something out of a spy movie. Underground, dungeon-esque, secure pass cards, passwords. It’s your kind of scene, really.”
“Ooh, tell me more about the Dark Side, Obi Wan.” Roberto rubbed his hands together, mimicking a mad scientist.
“We’re talking about a privileged position. Can we drop the Star Wars references?”
“I’m just messing around.” Roberto slid out the keyboard tray.
“Google search ‘Vatican Secret Archives’,” Mario suggested, familiar with the rising tech startup in Silicon Valley that was gaining popularity for its online search capabilities.
“You realize dogpile.com is the superior search engine, right?” Roberto typed in the URL to the Google competitor’s website. “How can a search engine named ‘Go Ogle’ ever be successful? Sheesh, any time I ogle women, I get slapped.” Secretly, Roberto was so convinced this latest startup would fail that he was buying thousands of put options against it, betting its stock would crash. He was set to make a fortune, much like George Soros betting against the pound sterling turning him into an instant billionaire.
“Really? You’re surprised that behavior gets you slapped?”
“I’m just sayin’.”
“Whatever. Just search ‘Vatican Secret Archives’, will you please?”
Data began filling the monitor, each line populated with newfound knowledge.
“There!” Mario leaned in, his finger tracing a line of information on the screen. “That’s the center of my scanning operation—all the diaries, documents, scrolls, and—”
“Wait, they have scrolls?” Roberto interrupted, his eyes wide with intrigue.
“You have no idea.” Mario swiveled to face Roberto, his expression grave. “Remember. Nothing leaves this room.”
