The Caleb Collection

by Ted Dekker

  The theories for this latest incident were clearly overshadowed by the general outrage that he’d been kidnapped. True enough, Jason and Leiah were not your typical criminal-looking types, and Donna had gone out of her way to ease the suspicion that surrounded them. But her role in this story was that of an impartial reporter, and Nikolous more than offset her voice of reason with his ranting and raving.

  He looked at her with a set jaw. “They have no legal right to take the boy, and I promise you that I will see them behind bars for this.”

  “I’m sure kidnapping is looked at very seriously by the law, but I hardly think you’re dealing with a typical case here,” Donna returned.

  “Of course not. We’re dealing with something much worse. The world has an interest in this boy. And he’s ill. Perhaps even bleeding. He belongs in a hospital, not in some fleabag motel or wherever—”

  “Bleeding?” Donna jerked her head to him. “That wasn’t in any report.”

  “We found a few drops of blood where he collapsed. He may have bitten his tongue when he fell, but this is not for the media.”

  The news intrigued her. She could not escape the gnawing notion that there was more to this story than met the eye.

  “Both you and I know that Jason and Leiah couldn’t hurt Caleb if they wanted to. Please, Father Nikolous, you must see that. If there were any real danger to the boy, they would have gotten him medical attention. For all we know he’s in some vet’s clinic right now, under medication and having his tongue sewed up.”

  Nikolous frowned deeply, and Donna thought he looked like a clown she’d once seen. “I do not share your optimism,” he said. “They’ve willfully and knowingly violated the laws of the state. If they are capable of this, there’s no telling what else they’re capable of.”

  “Or they have taken the boy out of a situation they see as dangerous to him, and they’re willing to pay the consequences.”

  The Father studied her for a few long moments, obviously taken aback by her insinuation. But she hadn’t accused him of anything.

  “I’m not sure many people would sympathize with such a rash statement,” he said.

  “Maybe. But surely, you don’t think that the world will just stand by and let the boy live under such restraint for long. At some point they will want him to just be a boy. Maybe Jason and Leiah just came to that realization faster than the rest of us.”

  “You may not approve of restraint, Donna, but it is my restraint that maintains his innocence. And believe me, whether or not his power comes from God, only his innocence keeps him from becoming just another boy. If that were to happen, the world would scream for the Caleb I give them now.”

  Donna smiled and nodded, not wanting to push him too far, but curious still. “I’m curious, Nikolous. Do you care for the boy?”

  His eyebrow arched. “Care?”

  “Yes. I mean do you find him appealing?”

  “My dear, if you were to turn on the television right now, you would find a dozen stations featuring discussion on the boy’s disappearance. The world is in an uproar tonight because of one boy. Why? Because I made him a boy worth caring for. Do you not see this? I made Caleb who he is. Tomorrow morning over three hundred law enforcement officers will go looking for the boy, and by nightfall I am sure we will have found him. And you ask if I care for him?”

  “Okay. But you know I’ve had to ask myself that question these last few days because I’m not sure any longer whether I’m more interested in Caleb or the story Caleb has dropped in my lap.”

  “Well, he’s brought all of us a little something. Which is another reason we have to find him. Hiding him away like Jason would choose is an immensely selfish approach.”

  It was his own use of the word selfish that pushed Donna to her next question. “A little something? How much money have you made off him, Father Nikolous?”

  He squinted and stared at her. “Money is not the point. The point is that Caleb has done more good than we can possibly measure with a few dollar signs. And unless we find him, it may be lost. Even if we find him, it may be lost.”

  She nodded. No need to push the point at this late hour. In a perverted way his reasoning made some sense even to her. And yet she knew by simple calculation that he had made in excess of ten million dollars off the boy already. If Caleb were to lose his power, no one would pay as dearly as Nikolous.

  Donna sat up and stood to leave. “With the effort under way I’m sure they’ll be picked up before long. They’ve got every cruiser this side of Las Vegas looking for the Bronco.” She chuckled. “I always knew Jason was a character, but I never would have expected him to go this far. You might want to lighten up on him, Father. He’s got a good heart, and when this is all over, people are going to see that. If you sound off too much, it could come down awkwardly for you later, if you catch my drift.”

  He just stared at her, wearing that great frown of his.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow. We have an interview at ten, remember? And don’t worry, I promise I won’t pry. Just the basics. We can’t let our fans down, you know.”

  She smiled and left him, still frowning.

  32

  Day 36

  JASON AND LEIAH SAT WITH THEIR BACKS TO THE CABIN, staring out at the night in the wee hours. Inside, Leiah had dressed Caleb’s gunshot wound with antibiotic ointment and fresh bandages. His bleeding had stopped, and under the bright flashlight she determined that the bullet had entered at his belly but exited harmlessly out his side. A nasty wound, but only his skin and exterior muscle had been harmed. She’d cared for him tenderly and covered him with the blanket.

  “I think we should assume it was the same people who destroyed the monastery,” Jason said.

  Leiah looked at him and then laid her head back on the wood without responding.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Should I be okay?”

  “No, I guess not.”

  She lifted her head. “I mean here we are nursing a sick boy who belongs in a hospital, stranded in the middle of the forest, and you think it’s all courtesy of the same maniac who chased us across the seas. How would you expect me to feel?”

  “Afraid?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed and leaned back again. “It could have been the antichrist group. They’ve lost no love on Caleb.”

  “The antichrist group wasn’t in Ethiopia, taking potshots at us,” he said.

  “Neither was the NSA.”

  “No, but the NSA was behind the attempt to deport Caleb, we know that. I’m not saying it was the NSA, but I am saying we should assume it is unless we learn differently. And I say that because I really do think Crandal is somehow behind this. Caleb’s practically implicated him, for goodness’ sakes. Can you think of anyone else who would want to kill Caleb?”

  “Not besides the antichrist group.”

  “If it is Crandal and his NSA connections, believe me, they won’t stop now.”

  “So why did we run? If they’ll come after us anyway?”

  “Because back there we didn’t stand a chance. At least this way we have the chance to think things through. If we have to we can surrender ourselves up tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. “Listen to us, Jason. You’re talking like we’re Bonnie and Clyde. When I said whatever is necessary, I’m not sure I had this in mind.”

  “No, you suggested I take a two-by-four to Nikolous’s head.”

  Leiah chuckled, more from stress than from the humor of it, he guessed. She laid her head against his shoulder, and he put his arm around her. “Dear Father, help us,” she prayed aloud.

  They sat in the cool night for a few minutes and Jason couldn’t help thinking how insane this was all turning out. Five weeks ago he’d dragged an angry woman and a boy from a besieged monastery and fled the EPLF. They’d narrowly escaped and then taken the boy to safety as promised. Who would have guessed that he would still be on the run with that same boy, now dying, and holding that same a
ngry woman in his arms?

  “Jason?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What will happen to us when this is all over?”

  Her question shortened his breath. He’d wondered the same a dozen times. “I don’t know,” he said. “What would you like to do?”

  She shrugged. “You have a unique reason to love me now, right? But when all this is past and I’m just an ordinary girl who isn’t bossing you around about Caleb—then when you see only me, how do you know what you’ll feel?”

  Heat washed over his skull. He’d asked the very question of himself earlier. He answered her the way he’d answered himself. “I love you as you are.” He sat up and turned her shoulders with both hands. “Look at me. I fell in love with a beautiful woman from Canada with the backbone of a tiger and the wit of a scholar. She has blue eyes and black hair and her body is scarred from head to toe. This is who I fell in love with. Are you telling me that you’re going to suddenly change?”

  Leiah smiled in the moonlight. It was the truth too, he realized. It was exactly how he felt.

  She lifted a finger and ran it over his lips. “And I fell in love with a man with a heart the size of Africa and skin so soft you could polish silver with it. Will you change?”

  “Never,” he said.

  She leaned forward slowly and kissed him on the lips. “Never let me go, Jason,” she whispered into his ear. “Promise me.”

  “I promise,” he said, and a lump filled his throat. “I swear it with my life.”

  It was barely light when Caleb awoke.

  He stared at a wooden wall and blinked. Images of a prophet with a long white beard holding his arms over a valley strung through his mind. It was Moses. He’d dreamed of Moses.

  Caleb turned his head and was rewarded by a sharp pain through his temples. He groaned.

  Slowly the room came into dim focus. This wasn’t his room. He’d never been here before. And why was his stomach hurting so . . .

  It came to him then: he was ill. He had collapsed at the theater. He had failed again! A pang of sorrow shot through his chest.

  “Oh, Father, what have I done?!”

  Caleb pushed himself up, wincing at the pain in his body. He swung his feet to the floor and sat still for a long time, trying to orientate himself to the spinning room. He felt his stomach and was surprised to find no shirt. A bandage was wrapped around his bare side. It was white and blotched with some red spots. He’d been hurt! He had fallen or something. Or maybe someone had cut him.

  The world slowly settled and Caleb saw that two people slept on the floor to his right. Jason and Leiah. They must have brought him to this place. He tried to stand, but he was afraid that he would fall, so he sat back down. Instead he sank to his knees and crawled toward the door. His dream strung through his mind. Moses.

  Caleb managed to get out of the cabin and crawl twenty feet from the cabin where the ground began its slope down to the east. The sky was just beginning to gray. Stars still blinked overhead, tiny pinpricks of light scattered over the heavens. He fell to his face, panting from the exertion.

  It seemed so simple now, this falling of his. He’d seen it clearly in his dream. There was a time when Moses had stood over the children of Israel as they fought the Amalekites. As long as he was strong and held up his hands they won. But when his arms grew tired and he lowered them, they were beaten. So Moses had two men hold his tired arms up until the Amalekites were beaten.

  He was like Moses. When he lowered his shield—his faith—the sickness overtook him. And when he reclaimed his faith, the sickness left him. He’d never had to fight so hard before, because he’d never faced this world.

  How had he missed it before? The world had pulled him into its trap. Yes, that’s what had happened to him these last two weeks. He had come to this country and lowered his shield to the world. Not that the whole world was bad, but lots of it was, and he had opened his heart to bad parts as well as the good parts. Bad parts that were like the brine he poured into his vessel to replace the clean oil.

  And most of it was through that silly television box in the corner of his room. He had soaked it into his spirit. Not that the box was evil by itself, but it had been his window into the world, a world that had taken him by storm.

  Well, now he knew all of that, and it made him feel sick. He rolled to his side and coughed. He had known most of this three days ago in the basement when he’d repented. And now already he was here, dying on the ground like an animal because he had looked just a little.

  “Jesus, forgive me,” he said softly. “My dear heavenly Father who has given me life, please, beat me if you want! I deserve much worse!”

  But I don’t want to, Caleb.

  Caleb caught his breath and lifted his head, half expecting to see Moses standing over him in a long white robe. But there was no one and the night was quiet.

  He began to cry. “I have been so bad. And I can’t take two steps without falling on my face. What is happening to me?!”

  You are fighting the fight that all my children fight. Hear me, Caleb. You are my light. You are my smile. You make butterflies fly through my belly. Do you know why, Caleb?

  Caleb did and he began to blubber like a baby.

  Because I love you more than words can say.

  He wasn’t sure why, but the soft voice in his heart made Caleb want to weep, so he did. He begged forgiveness and he cried into the dirt and he loved his Father with everything in his own little body.

  The eastern sky had grown light and Caleb lay on his back, suddenly warm all over. He wanted to wrap his arms around the clouds and scream his love for God to the sky. He was changing; he knew that. The simple belief he’d once had as a matter of habit was not as instinctive any longer. He’d fallen and tasted the dirt and its memory lingered. But he still knew how to walk in the kingdom. Any child could walk in the kingdom of his Father.

  He smiled. “Father, will you heal me?”

  Immediately warmth spread through his bones and Caleb began to laugh. It was almost as if the Father were tickling him. He rolled over on his belly, laughing. The nausea and pain from the illness had left him. A sharp pain from the bandage remained. He turned to his side and felt the bandage. The pain from the wound was still there.

  “Caleb?”

  He spun to the voice. It was Jason. Caleb sat up, grinning.

  Leiah walked from the shack, wide-eyed. “Caleb? Are you okay, dear?” She rushed up to him and knelt.

  “Yes. I am okay.”

  They must have thought his reaction strange because they exchanged an odd look. “How is your bandage?” Leiah asked, glancing at the white strapping.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I should change it. Does it hurt?”

  “Yes. But I feel better. God has taken my illness.”

  Jason lowered himself to the ground, and Leiah followed his lead. They sat on the knoll facing the rising sun.

  “So you still have your power?” Jason asked.

  “It never was my power. But yes, God has healed me.” Caleb scrambled to his knees, ignoring the pain at his side. “I have learned some things, Jason. I’m fighting the same fight that you fight, like Moses holding his hands up to beat the Amalekites. Do you know this story?”

  “The Amalekites? No. God didn’t heal your gunshot wound?”

  Caleb blinked. “Gunshot? I . . . I was shot?”

  “Yes, but it’s only a flesh wound,” Leiah said. “We need to keep it clean and dress it, but thankfully it isn’t deep.”

  Caleb looked at the shack and then scanned the meadow, for the first time really. He saw Jason’s white truck under the trees nearby. “Where are we?”

  “We’re in the hills north of the city,” Jason said. “You fell last night and someone shot you. We thought you might be in some danger, and we didn’t want to take you back to the Orthodox church with Nikolous, so we brought you here until we decide what to do.”

  Caleb grinned. “I like it here. Thank yo
u, Jason.”

  An amused smile crossed Jason’s face, and he exchanged another odd glance with Leiah. “You’re welcome, Caleb.”

  “And to be honest, I didn’t care for the witch’s food anyway.”

  Jason laughed at his reference to Martha. “You have her pegged. What was wrong with the food?”

  “It was bitter.”

  Jason sat up attentively. “Bitter?”

  Caleb nodded. “More bitter every day it seemed.”

  Jason jumped to his feet. “So he was poisoned! I knew it! And that witch was in on it!”

  “I was poisoned by the witch?”

  Leiah held her hand out and touched his shoulder. “Not necessarily. If you were poisoned, it would build up in your system—”

  “Think about it,” Jason interrupted. “Both times he’s gotten sick he’s been removed from her food, and both times he’s gotten well.”

  “No,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “That’s not why I got well.”

  Leiah faced Jason. “You see? Besides, the poison would have built up in his system. It wouldn’t just disappear when he stopped ingesting it.”

  “I was healed by God,” Caleb said. They turned to him. “Both times. And the poison could’ve been in my body all the time because the food has been bitter for a long time. When my faith remained strong, the poison didn’t work. But when I began to fail, it made me sick. Like Moses.”

  They looked at him with raised brows. “Your power comes from your faith?” Jason asked. “So if you lose your faith, you lose your power and you get sick?”

  Caleb chuckled. “I told you that I learned some things today. I’m only a boy and I don’t know all his ways. Really I know only a very little, like how to walk in the kingdom. But I do know that it’s God’s power and not mine. But yes, it’s faith. How can you walk in the kingdom unless you believe?”

  Jason didn’t seem completely satisfied with the answer, but Caleb wasn’t sure how to make him understand. Walking in the Spirit was a very simple thing that people in this country wanted to make very complicated. But not even he knew how to describe it in their terms. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he had it all right. Not even Dadda knew all the answers. He used to say that all those smart people who knew exactly how it all worked usually had it all wrong.