Eli

by Bill Myers

  “Look.” Conrad reached over to the stack of newspapers on the dimly lit counter behind him. He read the headlines of each, while dropping them one by one on the table in front of Eli. “‘Cult Leader Embraces Racism,’ ‘Miracle Worker Opposes Religion,’ ‘Is This a Traveling Jonestown?’” Conrad pointed to the pile. “And these are the reputable papers. You don’t even want to know what the tabloids are saying.”

  Eli looked up at him and answered quietly, “I don’t suppose it would help if they printed that Neil Ralston and I talked by phone for a good hour last night?”

  “He called you?” Keith asked.

  Eli nodded. “Told me he’s starting to read the Bible—that he’s considering renouncing his activities, maybe even turn himself in to the authorities.”

  The news caught Conrad off guard, but only for a second.

  “Great, now every racist in the country will hate us as well.”

  He leaned over the table, trying to make the man see reason.

  “Eli, no one is interested in those types of details.”

  “I know, I know.” Eli smiled, making it clear he’d heard the lecture before. “All they’re interested in is selling papers.”

  Conrad shook his head. “Not anymore. You’ve made too many enemies. Now they’re looking for ways to stop you.”

  “Or destroy you,” Keith added.

  “Oh, that’s rich,” Leon scoffed. “The man, he’s healing souls everywhere we go, and they’re trying to destroy him?”

  “It has nothing to do with souls,” Conrad said. “It’s about attacking spheres of power and influence. You can’t strike out at these guys without being struck back in return.”

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  Eli raised his deep, dark eyes to Conrad’s. “I’m only speaking the truth, Connie.”

  Once again the honest simplicity caught Conrad off balance. It took a moment to find his anger and tap back into it.

  “We’ve been over that before. There’s nothing wrong with telling the truth.” He reached for a file folder on the counter.

  “There is, however, a problem with attacking someone’s ministry.” He opened the folder to reveal three legal complaints.

  “Or being sued for defamation of character.”

  Eli stared at the papers in disbelief. “Those are ministries suing me?”

  “Of course. You don’t smack Dr. Kerston on national TV

  or humiliate organizations like the Cathedral of God without expecting repercussions.” He motioned to the documents.

  “And it doesn’t stop here. These people’s influence goes deeper than simply using the courts to drain you with legal fees.” He turned to Keith who stood at the other end of the cluttered table. “Tell him about the cancellations.”

  Keith produced a handful of slips. “We’re getting these every day now. Some saying you’re too controversial. Others that you’re a heretic or crazy or a tool of the devil.”

  Will Patton sighed heavily. “We’ve heard all them complaints before.”

  “Yes,” Keith agreed, “but now even the ministers who used to support you are denouncing you. Partially because of the negative media coverage—”

  “And partially because of their superiors,” Conrad added.

  “You have no idea the influence such powers can have inside and outside the religious community. You know that Dr. Kerston’s people are in the midst of creating a third political party.”

  Eli nodded. “But what’s that got to do with—”

  “Maybe nothing,” Conrad answered. “But didn’t you find that raid at Leon’s party just a little suspicious? Or how about the IRS audit that’s suddenly been slapped on you.”

  Eli said nothing, quietly absorbing the information.

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  “And now,” Conrad said, pointing at the cancellation slips in Keith’s hand, “now they’re cutting you off from the very people you’ve been trying to reach.”

  Again Eli had no answer. Silence stole over the group.

  Travis coughed. Scott and Brent shifted uncomfortably. Everyone waited for a response. Finally Eli cleared his throat. His voice was soft and a little sad. “If the worship centers won’t have me, then we’ll go directly to the people.”

  “How?” Conrad asked. “Oprah’s already canceled. After the Liberty America debacle, there isn’t a legitimate news or talk show in the country that will take you seriously.”

  Conrad pressed in. “It was okay back when you were bashing organized religion. Then you were the rebel, the underdog. But now you’re seen as one of the bad guys.”

  “You’re just a wealth of cheery information tonight, ain’t you?” Jake growled.

  Conrad turned to him. “I’m simply giving you their understanding of the truth.”

  “Then let’s take the real truth out to the streets,” Jake said,

  “or to the parks, or wherever people will listen.” He turned to the other men in the group. “No way are we gonna be stopped by a bunch of religious bigwigs or . . .” He turned back to Conrad. “The media.”

  Many of the group nodded.

  “That’s exactly my point,” Conrad argued. “That’s what I’m saying. Instead of taking these attacks lying down, let’s stand up and fight back.”

  “That’s what you been saying?” Jake asked.

  “Yes,” Conrad said, doing his best to hide his frustration.

  “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so?”

  Others in the group nodded.

  “Sounds good to me,” Will said.

  “Me, too,” Leon added. “But how?”

  Conrad explained. “The bigwigs sue us, we turn right around and countersue them. They attack us with slander and hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 138

  138 libel, then we fight fire with fire. We dig up dirt on them, and believe me there’s plenty, and we fling it right back into their faces.”

  “An eye for an eye,” Jake exclaimed.

  “Exactly,” Conrad said. “We’ll make it so miserable for our opponents that they’ll think twice before even trying to—”

  “No.”

  Conrad came to a stop. He looked at Eli. “What?”

  “You’re doing it again, Connie. You’re using the weapons of this world to fight this world.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Jake asked.

  “If you fight with the world’s weapons, you’ll die by those weapons.” Eli turned to the others. “Don’t you get it? How long do I have to travel with you until you see? In the Kingdom of Heaven you don’t return evil for evil. You overcome evil with good. You return acts of hatred with acts of love.”

  Jake shook his head. “I don’t know, Eli. Somebody hits me in the gut, believe me they’re going to know about it in a big way.”

  “No.” Eli shook his head. “Somebody hits you, you let them hit you again and again and again. You don’t resist them.”

  “But . . . that’s crazy,” Leon protested.

  “It all depends upon what battle you’re fighting,” Eli explained. “If you’re trying to win worldly battles, then you’re right, it can be absurd. But like I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m not here to fight worldly battles. I’m not interested in obtaining earthly spoils that rust and rot. Mine’s a different battle. As Leon said, it’s a battle for people’s souls. And those victories, those spoils of war . . . they will last for eternity. If you want to win eternal treasures, then fight with eternal weapons. If you want to win worldly treasures, then fight with worldly weapons.”

  “But these people, this world,” Conrad tried to reason, “it will destroy you.”

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  “Of course it will, Connie. That’s all part of the plan. I will be destroyed. Count on it. But that destruction is only the beginning of something far bigger and vaster than you can even
begin to—”

  Conrad saw the flash of light a split second before the windows exploded. Flying glass filled the room with a concus-sion so powerful that it knocked him to the floor. The roar was deafening as debris rained all around them. It lasted several seconds then ended as quickly as it had begun. The roar and raining glass was replaced by quiet moaning and coughing, then the cursing of stunned men who lay on the floor inside the darkened room.

  “What was that?” Jake coughed.

  “Is everybody all right?” Will asked.

  “Yeah,” someone else coughed. It sounded like Hector.

  “I’m all right,” Leon volunteered. He was spitting something from his mouth. “Eli, you okay? Eli?”

  “Yeah.” The leader’s voice was faint. And sad.

  Others in the group began coughing and stirring. Conrad rose stiffly to his knees, feeling the broken glass under them and under his palms. He turned his head. And that’s when he spotted the orange glow outside, the red flickering through the shredded drapes. Panic surged through his body. He pushed himself from the floor, a shard of glass slicing into his right hand. But it didn’t matter. He staggered to his feet, stumbling through the debris, making his way toward the door. He could feel warm liquid running down his forehead, but he didn’t care.

  “Connie?” Eli called.

  But Conrad didn’t stop. If the explosion had done this much damage inside the room, who knew what type of damage it had done to those outside? He threw open the door—

  and stopped breathing. Out in the parking lot, the center of Jake’s RV had been ripped open. A huge gash started from the bottom and yawned all the way up through the roof as flames leaped and rolled through the twisted metal.

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  “Suzanne!”

  He sprinted toward it. Familiar faces passed, Maggie, men, other women, some wide-eyed with fear, others stained with smoke and tears. Will shouted from the motel’s door, but Conrad paid no attention. Suzanne had been in that RV. Not twenty minutes before the meeting, he’d seen her working inside.

  “Suzanne!”

  He felt the heat before he arrived. Flames and black smoke boiled from the opening. It was impossible to enter from this side. Shielding his face from the heat with his arm, he raced around the RV to the back door. He grabbed the door’s handle.

  The metal blistered his flesh, but he continued to pull and twist until it finally gave way and flew open.

  Heat blasted out, burning his eyes, forcing them to close.

  But he shoved his head inside and shouted, “Suzanne! Su—”

  Suddenly his throat constricted, his lungs felt as if they were on fire. But he still managed to choke out the name, “Suzanne

  . . .” He began to cough. The smoke was too thick, the heat too intense. He pulled back a few steps to catch his breath, breathing in the cooler air, feeling it against his raw throat. A thought came to mind, and he ripped open his shirt, buttons flying. He peeled it off and covered his mouth. The heat burned against his bare chest and arms, but now at least he could breathe.

  “Connie . . . Conrad!”

  He turned to see Jake lumbering toward him.

  “Suzanne’s in there!” Conrad shouted. “I’ve got to get her!”

  “No!” Jake bellowed.

  Ignoring him, Conrad took a deep breath, turned, and headed up the steps into the inferno.

  “Connie, don’t! Conn—”

  His voice was lost in Conrad’s pain. Conrad’s skin screamed with such anguish that he expected it to ignite. He bent down, trying to protect himself as well as he could, try-hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 141

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  ing to keep his eyes open against the smoke and heat.

  “Suzanne! Su—” He began to cough.

  “Connie!”

  He inched forward. The coughing grew so bad he could barely speak. The air so hot it was impossible to breathe, even through his shirt. He coughed and gagged; his lungs felt as if they were imploding for lack of air. Still, he pushed himself forward, barely managing to gasp, “Su . . . zanne . . .”

  He felt a grip around his arm and spun around to see Jake grabbing him. “No, Connie!” Jake coughed.

  Conrad twisted. “Let . . . go!” He continued gagging, feeling the heat and smoke sear his lungs. But the big man did not let go. Instead, he began to pull. Conrad fought like a crazy person. Suzanne was in there! Didn’t he understand?

  Suzanne!

  Jake grabbed Conrad’s other arm. “No,” he coughed. “No!”

  Then he physically began to drag him out.

  “Let . . . go!” Conrad squirmed and choked and fought.

  But Jake continued, half pulling, half stumbling as he dragged Conrad to the door. With one last tug, they both tumbled out, falling down the metal steps and hitting the asphalt below.

  But Conrad was not finished. With a final burst of adrenaline, he staggered to his feet.

  “No!” Jake reached up and caught his waist. Then pulling himself up, he grabbed Conrad by both shoulders and spun him around. “Stop it!” He shouted into his face. He shook Conrad like a rag doll, trying to make him understand. “It’s no use! Stop it, now!”

  Tears streamed down Conrad’s face. “Suzanne!”

  “Stop it! Stop—”

  “Connie?”

  They both froze. It was her voice!

  “Connie!”

  He spun around. She was running to him. Not from the burning RV, but from the motel lobby.

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  “Suzanne!” He broke from Jake’s grip and raced toward her. They fell into each other’s arms and he held her with all of his might. “I thought you were . . .” He couldn’t say the words. “I thought . . . I thought I’d lost . . .”

  “I know,” she whispered fiercely, “I know.”

  “I couldn’t lose you.” His face was wet with tears. “Not again, not—” He could no longer speak; he could only hold her.

  “I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”

  They pulled apart, and he kissed the top of her head, again and again, before drawing her back into an embrace.

  And that’s when he saw it: the gray Taurus slowly driving up the road, the occupants calmly surveying the damage. Only this time there was a third passenger. He sat in the back, smoking a cigarette. And, as he inhaled, the glowing embers revealed a large handlebar mustache—exactly like Bill Johnson’s.

  “Connie . . . Conrad, you all right?” He turned to see Eli quickly approaching with the others. “Are you okay?”

  Rage surfaced. It boiled up inside Conrad, white-hot. He released Suzanne and turned on him. “No!” he shouted. “I’m not all right! None of us are all right!”

  Eli said nothing.

  “Don’t you see what’s happening? Don’t you get it?” He wiped his face with his shirt. “We could have all been in that RV! We could all be dead!”

  “Connie . . .” Suzanne cautioned.

  But Conrad barely heard. He took a menacing step toward Eli. “This is not a game! People in very high places are playing for keeps! Do you hear me?” He continued to shout.

  “We’ve got more enemies than we can count! Do you hear me? Do you hear me?”

  Eli answered with a quiet nod. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t! You don’t understand a thing! You’re endangering our lives. All of ours!” He turned to the others.

  “This isn’t what we signed up for! This isn’t what we wanted!”

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  Again Eli nodded. “I know. But I’ve never lied to you, Connie. I never promised you this would be easy.”

  “Easy?” Conrad breathed heavily, wiping more sweat and blood from his face. “Easy! Somebody just tried to kill you!”

  “I know.”

  “You know? That’s all you’ve got to say? You know?”

  Eli’s fac
e filled with compassion. “Connie, if you want to leave, you can. I’ll completely understand.”

  Conrad snorted in frustration.

  “And my love for you will not diminish. Whatever you choose, I’ll still count it a privilege for us to have spent these weeks together.”

  Conrad felt his throat tighten, his eyes fill with moisture.

  Why, he wasn’t sure.

  Eli turned to the rest of the group and spoke with the same earnest compassion. “That goes for all of you. If you choose to leave, I’ll understand. I mean that. Whatever you choose, I will understand.”

  An uneasy silence followed. Some of the group glanced at each other. Many looked at the ground. But no one ventured a word. The tears continued filling Conrad’s eyes until they spilled onto his cheeks. Tears of anger, tears of confusion . . . and tears of love. He knew that now. He knew it, and there was nothing he could do about it. Finally raising his eyes to Eli, his voice still quivering in rage, he croaked,

  “Where would we go?”

  Eli turned back to him.

  Conrad continued, struggling to put his emotions into words. “Who else . . . who else has such words . . . of life?”

  Suddenly Eli’s own eyes glistened in moisture. Without a word, he crossed to Conrad and threw his arms around him in a powerful embrace. Conrad returned it. He couldn’t help himself. More tears streamed down his face as he clung to him. Part of him wanted to beat Eli, to pound on him until the man saw reason. The other part wanted to hold him and never, never let him go.

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  v

  “Daddy, don’t let go!” Julia gripped the handlebars tighter as the wind blew into her face and through her hair. She was flying. “Don’t let go of me!”

  “I’m right here,” he laughed. She could hear him running beside her, panting to keep up. “I’m right here.”

  They hit a bump and she shrieked, “Don’t let go!”

  “Trust me, Sweetheart, I won’t let go!”