Swish.

There was a five-on-five pick-up game in progress, but Hank Raymonds, Al McGuire’s chief assistant at Marquette University, couldn’t help but notice the tall boy shooting at a side basket while waiting his turn to play. Raymonds watched the game from his office window and had his eye on Roy Burke, an all-state forward from Waukesha High School, #1 ranked team in Wisconsin. At 6’3", Burke possessed a deadly jump shot from almost unlimited range and was the top high school prospect in Wisconsin and possibly the country. The NCAA doesn’t allow colleges to conduct practices for high school students, but nothing stops a coach from watching a player that happened to show up at their gymnasium to scrimmage. After ten minutes, Raymonds decided that Burke was as good as his reputation. He didn’t play much defense, but who did in these pickup games. He sure could shoot.

Swish.

Moments earlier the tall boy walked confidently onto the court looking for a game. He needed the exercise after being cooped up in a car the last three days. While he waited he picked up a loose basketball and began his routine that he had practiced since he was ten. Moving slowly along the top of the circle he launched 25 foot jump shots with an east, effortless stroke.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

Raymonds watched with interest as the boy made shot after shot, each shot just grazing the back of the rim as it swished through the net, causing the ball to spin back to the shooter. Nobody is that good, Raymonds thought. The boy doesn’t miss.

Matthew Wilson watched the game while he warmed up and got a pretty good idea who the better players were. Burke appeared to be the best player; he certainly took the most shots. Mathew had seen this type of player many times in California. The game ended and one of the ten players had to leave.

"Hey kid, care to play?" one of the boys called out to Matthew.

"Sure," Matthew responded, anticipating the competition. He could feel the adrenalin begin to flow. He found himself guarding "the shooter" as he referred to Burke, and looked forward to the challenge. True to form, Burke received a pass the next time down the court and launched a jump shot from the top of the circle. He had made his last five in a row and expected to make this one, but was surprised when the ball was rejected. The new boy followed his blocked shot and turned it into an easy lay-up at the other end.

Raymonds grimaced when he heard Burke complain. "You fouled me," he yelled at Matthew. "You caught me across the wrist; our side out." Matthew remained silent while Burke’s team inbounded the ball. Raymonds watched from above. It was clear to everybody on the court that it had been a clean block, and Burke was just trying to maintain his dignity. This could be interesting, Raymonds thought.

Burke took the inbounds pass and drove strong to the basket. The new boy went up with him and deflected the ball off the backboard, got the rebound and was heading up court while Burke was complaining about another phantom foul. Raymonds watched to see if he would dunk and was pleasantly surprised when the boy slowed and fed off to a teammate for an easy basket. "You don’t see enough unselfish players anymore," he thought.

Raymonds was wondering what Burke would do next and was initially disappointed when the game was interrupted by an unexpected turn of events. Don Kojis, a former Marquette player and first team All-American, walked out of the locker room looking for a game. Burke called out to him, "Kojis, over here. You can take the new guy’s place."

Kojis had seen the previous play and knew there was something going on. "Do you mind?" he asked Matthew.

The new boy responded easily, "I have another suggestion," as he looked over at Burke. "Why don’t you take a rest for a while, you seem to have trouble getting your shots off anyway."

Burke was furious as his face turned red. "Why don’t we have a little one-on-one game for a little side bet, just you and me? Chicken?"

"I’m not afraid, but basketball is a five-on-five game. Let’s pick teams. You can pick first."

"Okay hotshot, you got it. I’ll take Kojis," Burke said with a sneer. "You can have the next four picks if you want," he said confidently.

"No, we’ll just go one player at a time." Matthew had watched the game earlier and knew the players he needed, and also knew that Burke would choose the flashy scorers. He ended up with exactly the team he wanted. The eleventh player, a 5’8" substitute from Burke’s high school team, went to Matthew when Burke said he didn’t want him.

"What are we playing for?" Burke asked arrogantly.

Matthew decided to take a chance and risk his prized possession. "Let’s play for the shirt off our backs. You get my shirt if you win; if I win, I get yours."

"You won’t win," Burke said. "I guarantee it. Take the ball out. The first team to 21 wins; count by one."

Raymond’s wouldn’t have given the new boy’s team a one in 50 chance when the game started. Kojis was just too good and Burke was one of the top high school players in the country. After five minutes, it was obvious the sides were not fair; the new boy was too good. He was all over Burke and had stolen the ball three times, feeding his teammates for uncontested lay-ups. The boy had only scored two baskets himself, but had a dozen assists and the score was 15-4. Rick Robey, the short kid that Burke didn’t want, had four baskets.

The defining moment came in a series of plays under the basket. Kojis, who had a well deserved reputation in college and the pros as a rough, physical player, caught the new boy with an elbow as they fought for a rebound. The boy was dazed, but didn’t say a word. The next time down the court he took Kojis to the basket, stopped short and faked a fade-away jump shot. Kojis went up for the block, but instead of shooting a fade-away, the boy went straight up with elbows extended and caught Kojis underneath the chin as he was leaning in. Kojis knew the foul was on him and raised his hand signifying the other team side-out and was surprised when the teams retreated down court. The new boy had made the shot despite the foul. "That’s a pro move," he thought.

The final score was 21-9 and Kojis congratulated the boy. "You have a good game young man; where do you play your college ball?"

Matthew smiled; he got that a lot from strangers. "I’m just a senior in high school. We just moved to Milwaukee and I’m not sure where I’m going to play my final semester."

Kojis couldn’t believe that a high school player had taken him to school like he did. He looked up at Raymonds and mouthed the words "high school" and pointed at the boy. Burke came over and begrudgingly tossed his shirt at the new boy. "Lucky," he mumbled under his breath.

Matthew had been wearing his shirt inside out and when he took it off to change, Kojis noticed it read; Kobe Bryant, #24, Lakers.

"I’ve heard of you, "Kojis exclaimed. "You’re the kid from California that plays the Lakers’ players one-on-one and beats them? Kobe talks about you.

The boy smiled. "Yeah, I’ve played against Kobe, O’Neal, Odom and Payton. Shaq is too strong, but I have had some luck against the others. This shirt is my prized possession."

"You weren’t worried about losing it?"

Matthew just smiled.

I was sitting in my coach’s office daydreaming, thinking back to the unusual circumstances that had brought me to this position. Friday I was named interim head basketball coach at Shorewood High School, the school I had attended 15 years earlier and had been named to the all-conference team my junior and senior years. I loved basketball and still kept in touch with my old coach, Ray Meyer, who was now in his thirty-third year as head coach. I had been visiting him in October when his junior varsity coach walked into his office and resigned.

"Oh great," Meyer said to me as his former JV coach left the office. "Now I get to coach both teams until they appoint someone who probably won’t know a darn thing about basketball."

To this day, I have no idea what made me volunteer. "Ray, I’ll be glad to help you out until you find somebody. I have no coaching experience, but I love basketball and I love working with kids. I can follow orders; just tell me what I need to do."

"You’re hired, Jim, and I’ll see if I can get you $120 a month coaching stipend and an extra $1,300 if you teach a couple drivers education courses." I smiled as I thought back to that magnanimous offer. Even then my construction and financing business was successful and I was probably making several million dollars a month. I wasn’t really concerned with the $120 a month stipend that was in the athletic budget, but I appreciated the gesture.

One month later I was still coaching the JV when Ray suffered a minor heart attack and doctors advised him to take it easy. His wife insisted that he stop coaching basketball at least for a year, and before I could say no, I was appointed interim head basketball coach.

Unfortunately, our record halfway through the season was 2 and 11 and we were mired in last place in the Suburban Conference. I didn’t mind, and accepted the job eagerly. Coaching basketball was something that I always had wanted to do, but couldn’t justify the lack of financial return. Schoolteachers were not paid well to begin with, and coaches seldom made more than $3,000 or $4,000 extra a year, which probably translates to about $3 per hour. There were several changes I wanted to make on the basketball team such as playing more up-tempo and pressing on defense, but my expectations were realistic. At best, we could hope to win half of our remaining games. I was still lost in my own thoughts when I heard the knock on the door.

"Hello!"

"Oh, I’m sorry, I must have been daydreaming. Please, come in," I said, standing up to greet my uninvited guests. "Have a seat." There were two of them, probably a father and son and I couldn’t help but notice that the young man was well over six feet tall and carried himself with an easy confidence. He looked like a basketball player.

"Mr. Simpson, my name is Ray Wilson and this is my son, Matthew. We just transferred into your school area and were hoping Matthew can try out for your basketball team. We know it’s late in the season, but for business reasons we needed to move at mid-semester."

I smiled as I thought back to that day. I had no expectations that Matt would be the player that he turned out to be, but I remembered thinking that it would be awfully hard for a 6’5" boy not to make our team. We were not that good.

"Sure," I said, "I would be happy to." Mathew was carrying a small gym bag and I figured he was ready to go. "You may start today if you have your stuff with you, Matthew. Why don’t you change and join the other kids on the floor? Practice starts in about ten minutes."

I turned to his father after Matthew left. "What position does he play, Mr. Wilson? He obviously has the height to be a center or forward."

"I’ll let you be the judge of that, coach, but he has played everything position from center to point guard. You decide where he’ll fit best with your players."

"Anything else I should be aware of?"

"Well, there is one thing."

Uh, oh, I thought, here it comes. Now I get the bad news. My face must have registered some concern.

"Matthew is an excellent basketball player, I have no doubt about that, but you will find out that he is a strong leader and has a tendency to take charge. He wants to win, but that doesn’t mean he won’t listen to you. I would appreciate your giving him the benefit of the doubt for a while until you see what he can do. Some coaches might think he’s trying to usurp their authority, but this isn’t the case. He only wants to win."

"If you’re talking about egos, Mr. Wilson, you don’t have anything to worry about with me. I’m the coach, of course, but I encourage all my kids, and employees for that matter, to think for themselves. Why don’t we go out and see what your son has and we’ll just take it one step at a time."

"Good enough, I have a feeling you and Matthew will get along just fine."

Matt was still stretching when I walked out on the court for our afternoon practice. "Come on, boys, two lines, let’s shoot some lay-ups. This is Matthew Wilson; he’s going to try out for our team."

The 12 boys formed two lines, one shooting and one rebounding & then feeding the next shooter, a typical lay-up drill used at all levels of basketball. Matt took three lay-ups from the right side easily laying the ball gently off the backboard. It didn’t take long to see he was coordinated. Even at 6’5", he moved with agility and ease. We then reversed the lines and the players shot from the left side although most of my players still shot right-handed. I knew Matt was a basketball player when I saw him shooting from the left side with his left hand and easily reversing his footwork, which is the most difficult thing to learn. Most boys are right-handed and their last step before shooting is with the left leg which becomes stronger over time. They have trouble getting any lift off their right leg because they grow up using only their left leg to push off towards the basket. Matthew had the same fluid movement from either side. We changed the drill to begin shooting jump shots from the free throw line with the other line rebounding. Matt took six shots and made five.

I hadn’t planned to scrimmage that day, but I couldn’t resist getting an opportunity to see how Matt would fit in with the rest of the team on a full court game. I put Matt at forward with the second team and later at center. He played well, rebounded, and ran the court with ease. He didn’t score much, primarily because he didn’t get the ball, but it didn’t seem to bother him. You could tell he had fun when he was playing basketball.

"Okay, boys, let’s call it a night. We have a big game Friday. Everybody take ten free throws and head for the shower. If you haven’t met him already, introduce yourself to Matthew, your new teammate." I sat down next to Ray Wilson and watched Matt make all 10 of his free throws.

"Mr. Wilson, your son looks pretty good out there. It’s obvious he’s played some basketball before, but he didn’t shoot much this afternoon. Does he have an outside game?"

"Coach, you’ll be pleasantly surprised." There was something in his voice that made me stop and recognize what he had said.

"Just how good is he?" I asked.

His father smiled. "He’s the best you’ve ever seen, bar none." I looked at him to see whether he was exaggerating, but his demeanor told me he wasn’t. I found out later that his nickname in California had been Phenom.

5,000 miles away another 17 year old boy walked onto a basketball court in the old section of Istanbul, Turkey, the part of town still referred to by locals as Constantinople. He was tall, lean and confident despite being matched up against the Turkish National Team that last year finished third in the Euro Championships. Two hours and 46 points later Amar Rashad was invited to join the elite squad. His nickname was the Mahdi, roughly translated as "the Guided One".

The new boy kept pretty much to himself the first couple of days, letting others form their initial judgments. At 6’5", 215 pounds and sandy blond hair, he looked like an athlete. He carried himself with an easy confidence that made the boys gravitate to him. Girls found him attractive. The first thing they noticed was his deep blue eyes that seemed to have unlimited depth, almost as if you were looking into a crystal clear lake. His eyes projected a serenity and calmness that made people comfortable. But surprisingly, there was little of the "he’s hot" talk. Most of the comments were along the line of, "he’s nice" or "he’s really easy to talk to".

By Wednesday, his classmates started to notice that there was something special about Matthew. He had an easy smile and greeted everyone by their first name. There were 1,150 kids at the three-year high school and 325 in the senior class. Everyone was his friend; it didn’t matter if the person was popular or a football player, he treated everyone the same.

Toby Hanson was a studious young man with few friends. Only 5’7", overweight, and wearing thick horned-rim glasses, Toby was fair game for bigger boys to pick on. Wednesday, two wrestlers took great enjoyment in walking up behind and knocking the books out of his hands, strewing papers all over the hallway. The boys laughed as Toby scrambled to recover the papers. More than 20 students walked by without offering to help, a few intentionally kicking the papers and creating a larger mess.

"Let me help you, Matthew offered as he knelt down beside Toby. Matthew asked others to help and within minutes, seven boys were on their knees cleaning up the mess. The two wrestlers watched in amazement, knowing that their prank had backfired. Matthew looked up at them and asked, "Larry, Sam, don’t you think you boys owe my friend Toby an apology?"

Larry and Sam were not overly intelligent, but it was obvious that they had a choice to make, and they needed to make it soon. It wasn’t a question of physical force, although neither boy would want to tackle Matt alone, he looked like he could handle himself. Rather, it was the new boy’s strength of personality that was evidenced in his request. He expected them to apologize and if they didn’t, they would not be his friends. The boys made the right decision and mumbled an apology before they departed to their next class. Later, during lunch hour, the wrestlers apologized to Matthew. "We’re sorry; we won’t do anything like that again."

"Okay!" The three boys shook hands and the incident was over. Word spread quickly that it wasn’t wise to mess with the new boy’s friends.

Word also spread that the new boy was smart. Tuesday, there was a pop- quiz in trigonometry class. Part of the teacher’s motivation was to see how far along the new boy was. There were ten questions and students were required to show how the derivations. The teacher watched as the new boy wrote for fifteen minutes before putting his pen down and waiting silently until the class ended. He was somewhat surprised because he had thought that the new boy might be pretty smart, but apparently the subject material was more advanced than he was accustomed to.

A girl seated to his right had also noticed the new boy’s inactivity. Trudy was an introverted girl that excelled in the classroom. She was also 60 pounds overweight and as a result had few friends. What people did not see was that she had a big heart. Trudy had also finished the math test early and noticed the new boy sitting at his desk without writing. Later, she found herself next to him as they turned in their tests and walked out of the classroom.

With a slight stutter, she introduced herself to the new boy. "Uh, Matthew, I’m Trudy."

"I know who you are, Trudy, we’re in three classes together. How did you do on the test today?"

"I think I did well, but I noticed you seemed to be having trouble. I would be glad to help you if you’d care to study together sometime. Maybe I can answer some of your questions you might have in our other classes. That’s all, I…….it’s not a date or anything I just thought I could help you."

Matthew looked at her and saw how difficult it was for Trudy to speak to him and how sincere the offer was. He never considered saying no, and gave her a smile that had never been directed at her by a handsome boy. "That’s nice of you, Trudy, and I really appreciate your offer to help. If you have time tonight I can come over to your house about 7:30?"

Trudy almost died with pleasure; she had never expected her invitation to be accepted. She was accustomed to rejection and later half-expected Matthew to call and cancel their study date.

After class, the math teacher glanced at the new boy’s paper expecting to see a blank page. He was amazed that all 10 questions were answered correctly and that the derivations supporting the answers were clearly explained. It had taken the new boy no more than 15 minutes to finish the 45-minute test.

Matthew showed up promptly at 7:30 and Trudy introduced him to her parents. It was obvious where Trudy got her propensity to gain weight; each was portly to say the least. Trudy and Matthew set up their study hall in the dining room and much to Trudy’s amazement, it soon became clear that Matthew did not need her help in math. What she did find was a friend that had interests in literature and history that were similar to hers. They exchanged views and opinions and the two hours passed quickly. Trudy had never been able to talk so easily with another student, much less a good-looking boy such as Matthew. Trudy found herself talking about her friends, or lack of friends, and her desire to lose weight and be just one of the girls. Like all girls, she wanted to be popular. She had opened up to Matthew, a boy she had only known for two days and told him things she had never talked with anyone about before, not even her parents. Matthew made her feel more attractive than she had ever felt before. He saw inside her a person that she wanted to be and looked past the exterior. It didn’t matter to him that she was overweight or wore glasses; he saw what other people didn’t see.

"Are you sure you want to lose weight, Trudy, because you don’t have to lose weight to be a beautiful person."

"I really do, Matthew. You know it’s important to other kids. They look at me and just see a fat person."

"Would you like me to speak with your parents about helping you?"

Trudy nodded her assent and almost on cue, her mother entered the room with a surprise dessert. "You kids have been working so hard, I thought you would like some chocolate cake and ice cream as a reward."

"That’s kind of you, Mrs. Rodgers; would your husband like to join us?" They were about to start eating when Matthew asked, "may I offer grace and thanks for this good food?"

"No, go ahead, that would be nice," Mr. Rodgers said with some apprehension. They were not a religious family. Matthew offered his extended hands to Trudy and Mr. Rodgers on his left and said a simple grace. "We thank you, Lord, for the food on our table, and the new friends we have met today. I especially ask for your help in supporting Trudy while she begins a difficult task."

"So, what’s this difficult task, Trudy?" Mr. Rodgers asked as he began eating.

Trudy looked at Matthew for support and answered her father. "Dad, Mom, I’ve decided to try and lose weight and Matthew has offered to help me," she said with obvious trepidation.

"Trudy, we like you just the way you are. A little extra weight never hurt anybody. What if you get sick? Are you telling her to lose weight Matthew?"

"Dad, that’s not true at all. Matthew has been the only person who told me I was beautiful the way I am. But, you don’t realize what all the other kids say. They call me tubby and fatty and a bunch of other names." There was a moment of silence and Trudy looked at Matthew for support.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rodgers, both of you are big people and that’s fine. You are adults and have earned the right to make your own decisions. Unfortunately, children and teenagers can be cruel. It’s not fair, but there is little that Trudy can do about it. She’s as nice a person as I’ve met, but there are some kids that only see what is on the outside. They don’t see what a beautiful young woman she is. She will feel much better about herself if she loses a few pounds and it will help her fit in better with her classmates."

The parents looked at Trudy who was close to tears and looked at Matthew with adoration. They loved their daughter and could see how important this was to her. "What can we do to help, Trudy?"

"I need to start watching my calories, and stop late night snacks. If you don’t mind, I would like to start right now," Trudy said as she pushed her half-finished dessert to the center of the table. She looked at Matthew for support and was rewarded with a reassuring smile.

"Do you mind if I finish your dessert?"

Ms. Thompson loved poetry and every year she looked forward to this part of her senior English class. "Okay, class, settle down. This week we are going to study some of the great love poems of modern times. Can anybody give me an example?"

Silence was their response which was not totally unexpected. Poetry wasn’t something that most high school kids understood.

"Anybody? Come on, surely there are some boys out there that have quoted poetry to their girlfriend."

Silence again. "Okay. I’ll give you an example," she said as she turned to write on the chalkboard. "Your words are my food, your breath is my wine; you are everything to me," a male voice said from the back of the room.

The room was quiet. It was not only the words, but also the way the verse was read, with depth and feeling

"Excellent, Matthew. Sarah Bernhardt is a great example of Victorian poetry. Do you have another example?"

"Of course, Ms. Thompson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote."

"Do you know the rest of the poem Matthew?" the teacher asked quietly."

Tears started forming in her eyes. Browning was her favorite poet and also the favorite of her ex-fiancé who had read poetry to her for hours with the same feeling that Matthew exhibited. They had broken-off their engagement last month. Ms. Thompson was fighting the tears when Matthew gave her needed time to recover.

"As I’m sure you know, Emily Dickenson was greatly influenced by Browning. The Heart is the Capital of the Mind, is one of my favorites."

"Can anyone tell me what this means?" Ms. Thompson asked, recovered from her reflections. "Debbie?" The remainder of the class passed quickly. She had never had a group of kids that were more interested in poetry. When the bell rang, she instructed each student to have a short poem that they could quote by heart for tomorrow’s class. "Matthew, please stay for a minute."

"I wanted to thank you for changing the subject. Elizabeth Browning’s poetry affects me, for several reasons. If you know her poetry, you know the poem I wanted to avoid. I got the impression you sensed that."

"Would you like to talk about him Ms. Thompson? He must be special to you."

She didn’t know how he knew, but found herself spilling out her heart to this 17-year-old boy. "His name is Jeff, and he is a graduate student at the University of Wisconsin. We were going to be married this summer, but I broke it off because …" Matthew was a good listener, and twenty minutes later she had admitted that she had made a terrible mistake. "I just wish he would give me another chance, but he won’t even answer my calls."

The next day everyone was ready with their poem and eagerly awaited their turn. One-by-one the students read their poetry, most without glancing at their notes. It was a teacher’s dream. Elizabeth Barrett Browning was off limits, but one young man had chosen a poem by her husband, Robert Browning.

"Jeffrey, can you tell us what Robert Browning meant?

"I’ll try. Summum Bonum is a Latin word meaning ‘highest good’ and in Christian philosophy, the highest good is usually defined as the life of the righteous, the life led in Communion with God. I guess Browning is equating this kiss to the ultimate pleasure."

"Nobody could explain it any better Jeffrey. Okay, Matthew, your turn." She couldn’t wait to see what he had come up with.

"Ms. Thompson, with your permission, I would like you to help me on this; I’ll read a couple lines and then you read a couple. Can we put the projector screen between us so you can have a little privacy?" The kids applauded so she was left with no choice. She knew what was coming and braced herself for the inevitable rush of emotions. It might have been a mistake to tell Matthew her secrets.

"How Do I Love Thee?" a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Matthew started, as a young man slipped into the room and took Matthew’s chair.

"Okay, Ms. Thompson, you start."

Tears were coming to her eyes as she paused to let Matthew continue. It was Jeff’s favorite poem.

"I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle light."

More tears gushed down her face as she recognized Jeff’s voice. She was sobbing as she continued.

"I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith."

Jeff finished the beautiful poem that had been a symbol of their love.

"I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death."

The room was quiet; the class mesmerized by the emotion that filled the room. Ms. Thompson looked up and saw Jeff’s face, and cried with happiness as he slipped their engagement ring onto her finger.

The class erupted with applause as they embraced.

She learned the rest of the story in bits and pieces. A guidance counselor provided Matthew with Jeff’s address and phone number. When Jeff did not immediately return his call, Matthew jumped in his car and made the 90-minute drive to Madison and camped out on Jeff’s doorstep. They talked for almost three hours before Jeff swallowed his pride and agreed to be there the next day. The ring was Jeff’s idea; at least he thought it was.

There were only four weeks remaining before graduation and most kids turned their attention to planning summer vacations, graduation parties and having fun. It was spring in Wisconsin, a fabulous time of the year when robins began to return to the north and romance bloomed along the shores of Lake Michigan.

Not Matthew. There were junior and senior class projects to complete besides the community projects that Matthew had set in motion. Matthew was determined to capitalize on our fame and averaged five speeches a week to various business groups, schools, churches and media. His face was constantly on TV or in the paper, promoting charity events, speaking to an enclave of Catholic bishops, dedicating a new synagogue or volunteering at homeless shelters.

He asked for my help. "Coach, let’s leave a little something for people to remember us by; something that others can pick up and carry on with." For the next month, I averaged four or five speeches a week, mainly to coaching groups and business groups. My message was simple; "Kicking ass means that if everyone does their best, 100% of the time, the positive impact for that person are truly amazing. They become a better person and make the people around them better too." I provided some simple examples of Matthew’s suicide drills, work ethic and values had changed the lives of his teammates and classmates at Shorewood High School. The simple message was well received and most businesses asked how they could help. Several wrote six-figured checks on the spot.

The housing rehabilitation project that started with repairing Anton’s wall was a huge success and spread to cities throughout the state. Each volunteer group only renovated one or two homes a month, which doesn’t sound like much, but there were 13 groups in the Milwaukee area alone. Each group was a partnership between a suburban school and an inner city school and resulted in kids of different races and social levels working together for a common objective. "The long term benefits of this interaction will be the legacy of this program," Matthew told the Milwaukee Chamber of Commerce. "That’s why we need your backing and technical support." $250,000 was earmarked for this program as well as a promise to sponsor a funding bill in next year’s legislative session. Matthew and I testified before a housing Senate subcommittee that was evaluating the possibility of taking the program nationwide, pretty heady stuff for a basketball coach with only 13 games of coaching experience.

The grand opening of the Community Jobs Center was scheduled for the day before graduation, a fitting monument to a senior class that had left their imprint upon the school and community in many ways. The three thousand foot complex included office space, meetings room and a state-of-the-art computer system and employment data base. The Governor, two Senators and Mayor took turns lauding the achievement and promising to expand this concept to other Wisconsin communities. The crowd of dignitaries cheered as the Governor cut the tape to the Matthew Wilson Jobs Center.

The interdenominational faith program that Matthew and Father McGinnis started never recovered after that episode when the Ark of the Covenant exploded at the church. In fact, two weeks after that event Father Sean had been called to Rome for a temporary assignment. I asked Matthew if Father McGinnis would return.

"I don’t think so, coach. I think he is in a little bit of trouble with the church hierarchy."

"Why, what did he do wrong?"

"I don’t think the establishment appreciated his philosophy that there are many ways of serving the Lord and believing in God was more important than being a Catholic. His willingness to discuss other religious philosophies was not received well in Rome and the incident with the Ark of the Covenant was the final straw. I do know that his replacement is not eager to support our youth group. That’s too bad, because it is something that is needed, not only here, but throughout the world."

"You were hoping to expand the youth program to other cities, weren’t you?" I said, realizing how disappointed Matthew was in this aborted effort.

"I haven’t given up." Matthew said softly. "The day will come."

Graduation was this evening and this was the final pep rally. It was also going to be an awards ceremony. As usual, Matthew had been instrumental in planning the event and there were rumors that something special was planned. I knew the rumors were true because I was involved with the security arrangements, but was surprised that the word had not leaked out given all the secret service precautions and people involved. The President of the United States doesn’t go anywhere without extensive pre-planning, even for a short 15-minute, surprise visit.

There was an election coming up and his campaign staff thought this would be great coverage, but the President said no media.

"Then why are we doing this?" his press secretary asked.

"Because he asked me to," the President replied. "And I want to meet him."

"Invite him to the White House. It’s not like he is a world leader."

"Have you read about this young man?" the President asked. "Have you seen what he has accomplished in a few months? Did you see what the school did on the SAT, not just him, but the entire school? Are you aware that Congress just passed a bill to fund his housing rehabilitation program nationwide?"

"Yes, but …"

"Well don’t tell me he isn’t a world leader." The President saw something special in this young man and wasn’t going to be deterred.

The pep rally started off with a twenty minute video of highlights from the school year played to a background of music ranging from James Brown to Johnny Mathis; a combination of excitement and nostalgia. The video ended abruptly and Matthew took the stage to a loud ovation. The students were keyed up.

Backstage, the President of the United States and his team slipped in and took a seat to watch the proceedings. He needed to see for himself what this young man was all about.

Matthew called for silence and raised two fingers. "My name is Matthew Wilson, and I am at student at Shorewood High School, and when I am a student, I Kick Ass." The response from the students was enthusiastic, to say the least. It was the last pep rally and everyone was keyed up.

"Today, we are …" The lights went out and there was silence for just a moment before the beat began, starting softly and increasing in volume as two searchlights scanned the curtain looking for the source of the music. Boom-boom-boom, Boom-Boom-Boom, BOOM-BOOM-BOOM, BOOM-BOOM-BOOM. The students roared and screamed in delight. They had heard the song many, many times and seen it on television and at the movies, but they couldn’t get enough of it.

Jennifer waited to make her appearance and almost failed to notice that the President of the United States was seated only ten feet away watching the performance on a closed circuit TV. She nodded and then turned her attention back to the song. This would be her last chance to sing this song for Matthew. She wished she could have performed alone.

Jennifer stepped through the curtain and the spotlight found her and the student body roared in delight. However, Jennifer waited and the beat continued; BOOM-BOOM-BOOM; BOOM-BOOM-BOOM; BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.

The students were getting restless when the 2^nd spotlight shifted to the other side of the stage and settled on the split in the curtain. A woman stepped forward into the spotlight and the music started.

The spotlights slowly moved higher.

"Give me a lifetime of promises and a world of dreams,

The spotlight revealed the face of Tina Turner and the auditorium went crazy. "Tina, Tina," the kids shouted as they recognized the famous singer. Jennifer, Jennifer the students screamed as the spotlight revealed her face Jennifer’s face.

The women were dressed in identical sequined, black dresses and looked absolutely fabulous. It was amazing how a 60 year old woman can perform next to an 18-year old and not back down for a moment. Tina looked as good in person as she did on her videos. She really did have awesome legs. Both women were now up close to Matthew, pounding fists against his chest as they sang the song’s refrain.

Students had their arms held high above their head, swaying side-to-side with the music, just like they did at the first pep rally and like millions of others have done at Tina Turner concerts or in front of their TVs.

The song ended and both women received a long, standing ovation before Jennifer exited to allow Matthew and Tina to sing a duet of Proud Mary.

"Thank you, Tina Turner, and thank you, Jennifer," Matthew started again. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," he continued, holding up two fingers. "We have awards to present this afternoon to those of you that have excelled during their years at Shorewood High School. Principal Hawkins, would you please do the honor." Bill Hawkins took the microphone and Matthew went off stage to meet the President of the United States.

The President had been watching the television in admiration of how Matthew controlled the audience and how they hung on his every word. He stood and greeted Matthew with a warm, presidential handshake and a Lyndon Johnson-like clasp of the shoulder. "It is truly an honor to finally meet you, young man. I have been following your exploits and am impressed."

"Thank you, Mr. President, the pleasure is mine. I have been following your exploits and for the most part, am also impressed," he said returning the President’s handshake with a firm grip. The President laughed at the slight twist of words and the inference, recognizing there was no agenda behind the statement, just an honest opinion that he did not agree with everything the President had done.

"Well, Laura doesn’t support me on everything either, and certainly Congress doesn’t. I would think you were a fool or a liar if you agreed on everything I have done, and I certainly don’t think you are either."

"Thank you, Mr. President. I know your time is short, but I want you to know you are welcome to stay for as long as you like. As we discussed, you will make the presentations to the "lucky 12" who took the 2^nd SAT test. We hope you can deliver a short speech and after that, you are welcome to stay for the final hour. It’s up to you."

"What comes after we make the presentations to the lucky 12?"

"I’m going to give a medal to all the seniors commemorating their achievement." Matthew handed the President a specially prepared sample, with the Presidents name and his SAT score from the year he was first accepted at Yale, before joining the US Navy in World War II. "We wanted you to have this as an expression of our thanks for coming here today and honoring our achievements.

Tears streamed down the Presidents face as he looked at the medallion with the number 1942. "This is absolutely beautiful," he said in a choked voice. Do they all have the person’s name and SAT score? That must have cost a small fortune."

"Yes, there is a lot of profit in that song you heard earlier. Besides, the money is well spent and the kids deserve it. You can’t imagine the effort they put into studying for the SAT test, not to mention the housing rehab project and other projects we have going on."

"I’d like to stay for the entire presentation if you don’t mind," the President decided as his travel secretary grimaced.

Principal Hawkins was just completing his award presentations as Matthew stepped back on stage. "Matthew, it’s all yours.

"Thank you sir, and congratulations to everyone who earned a special award today. Let’s give these people a big hand," Matthew said as he shook each students hand before they returned to their seats.

"I now have the honor of introducing a man who will help me present individual medals to each graduating senior. Each medal has your name and SAT score to honor your achievement. I challenged you to do your best and you did. The effort you gave was the best and therefore, you should be presented your award by the best. Students and faculty, I have the honor to introduce the President of the United States, George H.W. Bush. Let’s give the President a He Kicks Ass welcome."

"Thank you everyone for this great welcome. The words are similar to what I hear from Congress, but the meaning is much nicer." The President gave a short speech applauding their achievements, and the presentations began.

The reception line consisted of the President, Matthew and Principal Hawkins who handed out the medals. The President shook each student’s hand and made some congratulatory comment. He couldn’t help, but notice that Matthew greeted every student by name and had something personal to say. Almost every student said something like; thank you, I’ll miss you, you’re the best, I love you, etc. The President could feel the love and respect, not just from a few, but from every student. How could anyone compete against him if he ever decided to run for president? The presentation was over and Matthew offered President Bush the opportunity to say a few more words.

"I’ll be brief," the President declared, and kept his promise. "My staff asked me why I wanted to take the time to come here today, and I told them I wanted to come here to meet and honor a special young man and a special group of young adults who have achieved so much, in so short of time. I was not disappointed. It was privilege to be here." He sat down to applause that slowly grew into another ‘The President Kicks Ass’ chant.

Matthew stepped to the microphone for what we knew would be the last time at Shorewood High School. The auditorium was silent. "Fellow students and faculty, we have come a long way together and because of you these have been the happiest months of my life. I asked you to do things that were difficult and you succeeded. I owe each of you so much and I want you to know that if you ever need me, I’ll be there for you. I repeat, if you ever need me, I will be there for you. Thank you. Class dismissed."

The students started to file out as Queen’s "We are the Champions" came over the sound system, but the music and everyone stopped when a young lady shouted out from the back of the auditorium. "If you ever need me, I’ll be there for you, Matthew."

"I will, too," a boy shouted. Soon, the entire room was shouting the promise; students, faculty, custodians and the President of the United States. "If you ever need me, I’ll be there for you."

Ten years later each person would be asked to fulfill this promise.

Eurobasket is the name commonly used to refer to the men's European bi-annual championships. Founded in 1935, the league now consists of 16 teams representing 16 nations and features some of the best players and teams in the world, including the USA. Russia edged Spain, the host company, 60-59 to win the Eurobasket 2007 gold medal, their first gold since the breakup of the Soviet Union which had claimed a total of 14 Eurobasket championships.

The game was close throughout until Spain broke out to a 59-54 lead on the strength of two baskets by Pau Gasol who finished with 14 points, 14 rebounds, three assists and three blocked shots, but the NBA superstar also missed five of eight foul shots in the fourth quarter and committed five turnovers. The final turnover was fatal as he lost the ball in the paint to J.R. Holden who eventually made the winning basket with only 2.1 seconds on the clock. Gasol’s ten foot jump shot at the buzzer rattled in and out, sending 18,000 Spanish fans home in disappointment. It was Spain’s 6th silver medal at the Eurobasket games.

The tournament MVP award went to Russian team leader, Andrei Kirilenko, who finished with 17 points and 5 rebounds. "The other Russian star, Victor Khrypa was alsoy deserving said coach, David Blatt; and let’s not forget the defensive job that Holden did on Gasol, and before that Tony Parker of France." "We did not want to double team Gasol unless he put the ball on the floor. We played a lot of matchup zone and didn't allow Gasol to get the ball close to the rim. We wanted to put him on the line and it worked. We also did a great job against Calderon. He didn't play as good as he did in the last game against us."

The leading scorer of the tournament was Dirk Nowitzki whose German team beat Croatia for fifth place. Nowitzki finished with 31 points and 12 rebounds and averaged 24 points for the tournament. The leading rebounder was Yniv Green of Israel who averaged almost ten rebounds a game.

Lithuania, a small Baltic nation, finished a ‘disappointing’ third, beating Greece 78-69 to earn the bronze medal. Lithuania was led by Theo Papaloukas with 19 points. The Greek team was the 2005 Eurobasket defending champions

Lithuania was the first stop on six nation tour of Europe that included stops in Italy, Germany, France, Greece, Turkey and Israel. The European tour finished up in Paris with a game against the European all stars. Ken and I decided to join Matthew in Vilnius, the republic’s capital and largest city. This small nation of only 25,000 square miles is located on the Baltic Sea and shares borders with Latvia, Belarus and Poland. Lithuania declared its independence in 1990 after 46 years of occupation by the Soviet Union preceded by five years occupation by Nazi Germany. Lithuania was admitted to the United Nations in 1991 after the Soviet Union joined the rest of the world and recognized Lithuania’s sovereignty.

Ken and I flew first class on the flight to Vilnius and I took the opportunity to see what he knew about European basketball. I shouldn’t have been surprised. "Ken, it says here that Lithuania was disappointed with their bronze medal. Isn’t third place pretty good for such a small country?"

"Sure, except that the Lithuanians are accustomed to winning."

"Well, it says here that they won in 2003, but before that they hadn’t won since 1939," I pointed out, figuring I had finally gotten one-up on Ken. "That’s not what I would call a dynasty."

"Ah, but you forget about the occupation. During the Communist era, Lithuanian players formed the core of the Soviet Union teams. Remember when the Soviets won the gold medal in 1988?"

"Who can forget?" I answered. "I can still remember the disputed last second field goal and the clock-controversy that followed."

"Maybe so, but the Soviets won and that was the end of USA basketball dominance, don’t you agree?"

"No question about that. From that point on we stopped using college players and started the ‘dream teams’.

"Well, what you might not know is that four Lithuanians formed the core of that Soviet team and did most of the scoring; namely Valdemaras Chomicius, Rimas Kurtinaitis, Sarunas Marciulionis and Arvydas Sabonis"

"How can anyone pronounce these names, much less remember them?" I asked in genuine amazement, "and why would you want to?"

"Because I can," Ken replied with his big I-got-you grin. "Furthermore, my illiterate friend, since Lithuanian independence on 1990, the national team has won bronze medals in the first three Olympics to feature NBA players. They finished fourth last year."

"I give up," I sighed. "You are the master of trivia. But why, why does a small country like Lithuania produce so many great players and teams?"

"Coincidentally, while I was doing my research last night," Ken said with a wink, "I came across a great quote from a book written by Michael Ferch that addresses just this question;

"So why the drive in small countries to play basketball?"

As a Lithuanian noted: "In Lithuania today, if you have money, you have no reputation, because your money is black [market] money. If you have reputation, you are teacher, scientist, artist--but you have no money. Only a basketball player has money and reputation."

"Playing basketball has become more than just a game, it’s become part of their culture, a way to excel," Ken added.

"You know, this is similar to what I found when I looked into why the Russians are excelling in tennis, but there is also another factor that comes in to play. They want it more than we do."

Team Lithuania was led by current NBA players; Linas Kleiza of the Denver Nuggets, Darius Songaila of the Washington Wizards and Zydrunas Ilgauskas of the Cleveland Cavaliers. However, 6’10’ forward Andris Biedrins, from Riga led the team in scoring with 19 points. The score was knotted at 72 and the Lithuanian team had the ball out of bounds in their front court with only seven seconds left on the clock.

"This is a strong team," I commented to Ken as we waited for play to resume.

"No question, they could beat a lot of NBA teams. Let’s hope we can stop them here and beat them in overtime."

Matthew had other ideas as he came out of nowhere to deflect the inbounds pass to a teammate and raced up court where he took the return pass and dunked as the clock expired, disappointing the sellout crowd that had been primed for victory.

"Wow, can you believe that? That was just amazing," Ken exclaimed. "I didn’t realize he was that quick." Ken hadn’t seen Matthew play before and did not realize that last minute heroics were expected from Matthew.

"Yeah, sometimes I think Matthew is just toying with the opposition until the end of the game, when his competitive instincts take over."

"That was unbelievable," Ken repeated, shaking his head.

"Watch this," I said pointing at the floor. "This is even more amazing."

The crowd had stayed and their groans gradually changed to cheers and eventually to a standing ovation as Matthew congratulated one Lithuanian player after another, holding up their arm to salute the crowd. It was an impressive display of sportsmanship, culminated with a short speech.

"I want to dedicate this game to the past stars of Lithuanian basketball starting with Sarunas Marciuliois who received several standing ovations as Matthew recapped the highlights of his career as the crowd was treated to highlights displayed on the high definition screen that was part of the Matthew’s tour. Forty-five minutes and ten players later Matthew paused and waited for the crowd to calm.

"There is one player that is the icon of Lithuanian basketball and perhaps the greatest player of all time – bar none. I have the great pleasure of introducing …"

The noise from the crowd drowned out Matthew’s introduction as Arvydas Sabonis, walked onto the court and stood awkwardly as the enthusiastic crowd gave him a tremendous ovation.

Word on the street is that Arvydas Sabonis was only a shell of himself by the time he made it to the NBA. Everything in Sabonis’ bio talks about how much better his Portland Blazer teams would have been had he played at an earlier age. This is believable when you consider that by the time he entered the league he was 31 years old with several major surgeries under his belt, yet still one of the better centers in the league.

Like most international big men, he had the ability to play on the perimeter, knocking down outside shots, and dropping dimes with the same level of ability as a Bill Walton. Sabonis played seven seasons with Portland, helping them make the playoffs in each one of his seasons, as well as guiding them to two Western Conference Finals. Blazer fans can only imagine if they had Sabonis in his prime instead of Kevin Duckworth during their NBA Finals years. It’s safe to say that if this was Sabonis had been in his prime either Michael or Isiah would have at least one less championship.

As the applause died down, Matthew continued. "I also want to dedicate this game to the thousands of partisans and Jews that lost their lives during World War II and afterword, fighting for the independent Republic of Lithuania."

I didn’t think it was possible, but the noise level in the 20,000 seat arena increased again with Matthew leading the applause for several minutes before waving good bye to the appreciative crowd.

"Amazing," repeated Ken. "He had the crowd in the palm of his hand."

"It’s like this everywhere he goes," I pointed out.

The next stop was Berlin Germany where 20,000 screaming fans and politicians packed the arena for a game against the German National Team. Chancellor Kohl headed a delegation of politicians that were provided free passes by Matthew’s advance team.

"The Germans were led by Dirk Nowitzki, all-pro forward with the Dallas Mavericks and 2007 NBA most valuable player. Other German-born players with NBA experience included 7’4" Shawn Bradley who was raised in Utah and Detlef Schrempf who was born in Leverkusen, Germany, but moved to the U.S. in high school. The guards for Germany were good enough to lead the team to a world cup and Eurobasket championships, but they lacked NBA experience.

"Okay Ken, here’s one for you. Who drafted Dirk Nowitzki?"

"The Dallas Mavericks, of course, or is this a trick question."

"It’s not a trick, but just one of the worst trades in NBA history. The Milwaukee Bucks traded the rights to sign Nowitzki to the Mavericks for Tractor Traylor, a 6’9", 300-pound journeyman out of Michigan State."

"You would think that with all those Germans in Milwaukee Nowitzki would have been a perfect fit for them."

"And then ten years later they draft Yi when they have maybe ten Chinese people in the entire state."

"Go figure; think what the difference that trade made for the two franchises."

Nowitzki tried to make a difference tonight as he poured in 44 points and grabbed 16 rebounds. Shawn Bradley was held to six points, but contributed 12 rebounds and a whopping nine blocked shots, but the German’s team inexperience at guard proved too much of a hurdle to overcome. The score was tied with five minutes to play until Matthew’s all-stars forced the German guards into four turnovers down the stretch. The final score was 77-71.

The basketball game was nothing as Chancellor Kohl found out the hard way that sometimes the price of a free ticket can be huge.

Matthew held the microphone and waited for silence. He started in a low voice that gradually increased in depth and power as he made his point. "Germany's parliament passed legislation in 1985, making it a crime to deny the extermination of the Jews. In 1994, the law was tightened. Now, anyone who publicly endorses, denies or plays down the genocide against the Jews faces a maximum penalty of five years in jail and no less than the imposition of a fine. Austria imposes even tougher penalties. Historian David Irving has denied the Holocaust and faces up to 20 years in prison."

"These are facts that you all know. My question is this. How can you allow foreign leaders to deny the existence of the holocaust or the right of Israel to exist?" Matthew paused before continuing.

"Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has described the Holocaust as ‘a myth’ and suggested that Israel be moved to Europe, the United States, Canada or Alaska. Previously Ahmadinejad called for Israel to be ‘wiped off the map’. Last week, he expressed doubt that the Nazi’s killed of six million Jews during World War II and Wednesday repeated that the Holocaust was a myth."

"And what do we do about it? We issue empty condemnations. The leaders of the free world, particularly those of you with first-hand knowledge of what non-action can do, must do more. We need Germany to speak out!"

Matthew exited to a thunderous ovation while Chancellor Kohl and his advisors contemplated their options.

Oleg Ivanov went from boat to boat addressing each of his men. There were six boats, each carrying six men armed with AK-47 machine guns, semi automatic pistols, grenades and two rocket launchers. Oleg didn’t expect trouble, but it always paid to be prepared. Confident that each boat knew its role, he jumped into the lead boat and gave the order to begin the twenty minute trip across the lake. He smiled as he thought of the wealth and power that possessing the Ark of the Covenant would bring.

Oleg thought of himself as a businessman and a member of a powerful cartel known as the Russian Mafia. Much stronger than the Italian Mafia ever hoped to be, the Russian Mafia dominated business activities in Russia and had a major presence in the United States and other foreign countries. His gang alone had over 400 soldiers and controlled a large portion of Moscow. Thirty six of his best men were here today for this mission.

An unlikely set of circumstances brought the Russians here today. It was a ten year journey that started with a small loan to a man who needed money to start a nightclub act in France. "My nephew is only ten, but he is the best magician in the country," the man claimed. "Not only that, he can find things that are lost and read your mind."

Oleg loaned the man $10,000 euros in return for 50% of earnings. Six months later he remembered going to the nightclub to see how his investment was doing and was pleasantly surprised. Randy Wolkson was the real thing. He really could read minds, find lost children and foresee the future. The boy went back to the United States, but Oleg used his contacts to keep track of the boy who had changed his name to Matthew Wilson. For ten years the Russian gang leader followed Matthew’s progress, eventually leading him to Ethiopia and the Lake Tana resort development. Oleg had a nose for money and sensed this was more than a casual investment; he acted accordingly. The Russians monitored the telephone calls for three years and listened closely as Matthew’s friends talked about the Ark. They hit pay dirt when the two Ethiopians discovered the cave. Oleg knew it was time to cash in on his investment.

The bidding on the Ark was unbelievable. Subject to verifying authenticity, the Sunnis offered $500 million, an offer topped by radical Shiites who offered $600M. Rome offered a billion and increased their offer to three billion when they heard that Ahmadinejad offered two billion. Oleg wasn’t interested; he was going to harness its power and keep the Ark for himself.

They neared the island and Oleg waited as two boats broke off in each direction to circle the island and make sure they were alone. It was 1:00 AM and he didn’t expect any visitors. The four remaining boats stopped four hundred yards from the small island and turned off their engines. They floated silently, packed together in a group, waiting until they received the all-clear signal.

The silence was broken by the sounds of a high speed power boat appearing out of the darkness bearing down upon them on a collision course. The maniacal animal-like screams of the five men in the approaching boat could be heard clearly above the noise of the engines and struck fear into Oleg’s men. They were not aware that eight hundred years ago this tactic was used successfully in the Crusades.

"A key tactic of the Templars was that of the "squadron charge". A small group of knights and their heavily-armed warhorses would gather into a tight unit which would gallop full speed at the enemy lines, with a determination and force of will that made it clear that they would rather commit suicide than fall back. This terrifying onslaught would frequently have the desired result of breaking a hole in the enemy lines, thereby giving the other Crusader forces an advantage".

Precious moments were lost as the twenty four Russians stared at the oncoming boat and listened to the war cries of the crew. When they finally reacted, it was too late. The oncoming boat, with a metal battering ram and three foot spikes protecting the sides, rammed into Oleg’s lead boat at a speed of 30 knots. Oleg and two of his crew were killed instantly and the other three were thrown into the water where they were raked with automatic gunfire. The wake from the collision capsized a second boat whose crew suffered a similar fate. The two remaining boats were just beginning to mount a defense when the grenades exploded; within minutes Oleg and twenty three of his men were dead. Oleg’s other two boats arrived too late to help, but just in time to suffer the fate of their comrades. The fifth boat was rammed and the six-man crew dumped unceremoniously into the water, destined to be mowed down by automatic machine guns. The sixth boat tried to escape, but couldn’t outrun the projectile from the hand-held missile launcher.

The water surrounding the small island was littered with debris from sunken boats. A score of lifeless bodies floated aimlessly atop the lake, slowly making their way towards the majestic Blue Nile Falls.

It was approaching eight PM in St Louis, but four AM the following day on Lake Tana. The battle was over and the victors celebrated while their leaders entered the cave despite the protests and warnings of the Falasha Priest. They proceeded to the Outer Chamber of the Temple before hesitating.

"Is it wise to enter, Grand Master? Maybe the Falasha Priest is correct?"

"There is no way I cannot enter, it is our destiny. The Ark is the reason our Brotherhood was founded and represents everything the Masonic Temple believes in. I owe it to King Robert the Bruce, George Washington and all the others that championed individual liberty and political liberty since the inquisition forced our predecessor’s underground."

"Yes, the founders of the Knights Templar would be proud. It is the culmination of their search for the Ark of the Covenant which started when the eight original knights took residence in the Al Aqsa mosque on the Temple Mount and spent ten years digging under the Temple searching for the Ark."

"The Scottish adventurer James Bruce of Kinnaird would be envious if he knew that the he had been within 100 meters of the Ark. Two hundred and forty years later his belief that the Ark was in the Lake Tana area will be proven correct."

"We would not be standing here if it were not for Bruce and the travel journals he left behind. Thank you Sir. Bruce, and all the other Templars and Freemasons that have unsuccessfully searched for the lost Ark since it disappeared from Solomon’s Temple."

The Grand Master of the Masonic Temple slowly opened the curtain to the Holy of Holies and gazed upon the altar.

The Ark was gone.

Exodus relates stories of how people that touched the Ark were killed and only Levites, members of the Hebrew Tribe of Levi, were allowed to transport the Ark without danger. It is difficult to reconcile this documented history with current facts. After all, it was Ken and Marco that moved the Ark the previous evening after receiving a warning phone call from Amar Rashad.