Eli

by Bill Myers

  “It’s not so easy to accept, is it?”

  “Or to live. But when I finally make the leap and try to embrace these things, you raise the bar again . . . and then again.”

  There was a moment of silence before Eli finally spoke.

  “Connie, when I left Heaven and took on your humanity, it was to cleanse you and draw you closer to my Divinity. I don’t want you reborn but then walking around like a baby the rest of your life. I want you reborn so you can become a mature man of God. I want you to be led by the Spirit, not your flesh.

  I want you to become like me.”

  Conrad snorted in disbelief. “There’s no way I’ll ever be like you.”

  “If you keep saying yes to me, that’s exactly what you’ll become.”

  Conrad looked at him.

  “Those are your options,” Eli said. “You can become more and more like me, or you can continue crawling around like a baby, reborn but never maturing. The choice is yours.”

  “Choices,” Conrad mused, as he grabbed a twig from a rhododendron and began to methodically snap it. “You’re always forcing us to make choices.”

  “That’s the game plan, my friend—encouraging you to choose my way over your way, to choose my wisdom over the world’s wisdom . . . to choose my Spirit over your flesh. It’s all a matter of choice.”

  “You sound like a professor friend of mine back in California.”

  “Dr. Endo?”

  Conrad’s mouth opened. “You know him?”

  “Of course I know him.”

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  “About his theories? You’re familiar with parallel universes?”

  “Familiar with them?” Eli grinned. “I created them.”

  Conrad slowed to a stop. “Then you know . . .” He fought to keep his voice level. “You know about the car accident?”

  Eli smiled warmly. “I was there when you cried out to me, Connie. I was there when you chose to seek my help.”

  Conrad remained staring, slack jawed. But before he could recover, Eli turned back to Jake and Robert. “Okay, guys, this looks as good a place as any. Let’s stop here.”

  The two men came to a halt beside them.

  “Hey, Connie,” Jake asked, “you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Conrad turned to him. He tried to nod, but wasn’t sure he succeeded. He glanced about. It appeared that they’d reached the top of the mountain. They were in a small clearing, not more than fifteen feet by twenty. Through the spruce and pines, he caught glimpses of the valley stretching out below—

  mostly bluegrass and pastureland. A warm breeze crawled up the side of the mountain, barely brushing against them and having absolutely no effect upon the number of insects.

  “I’m about to make an important decision,” Eli said, throwing an amused glance at Conrad, “a very important choice. But I want to make certain it’s my Father’s will. I want to make certain I’m hearing Him correctly as we enter this last phase of my work.”

  “Last phase?” Robert asked.

  Eli nodded. “The phase that will bridge the gap everyone is so concerned about, the gap between my Father’s holiness and His mercy.” Eli hesitated, perhaps hoping for some response. There was none . . . well, except for Jake, who could never endure any silence for too long.

  “What’s that got to do with us?” he asked.

  Conrad saw disappointment flicker across Eli’s eyes.

  Then, just as quickly, it disappeared. “I brought you up here because I’d like you to pray with me.”

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  “That’s it?” Robert asked. “We came all the way up here just to pray?”

  “It’s the most important thing you can do, Robert, and up here there will be no distractions.”

  “Sure.” Jake shrugged. “We can do that.”

  Robert agreed. “No problem.”

  Eli nodded, a trace of the sadness returning. “How about over there?” he said, pointing to a fallen log resting near the edge of the clearing.

  They strolled to it, then sat down, stretching out and making themselves comfortable on the thick carpet of pine needles. Well, all except for Eli. He seemed anything but comfortable. A little agitated, maybe. A little concerned, absolutely. But definitely not comfortable.

  Once they had settled in, Eli waited a long moment. When no one volunteered to start, he began. He prayed on his knees.

  He usually did. It was a ritual of his that everyone had grown accustomed to. “Father . . . Father, we thank You for Your unfathomable goodness to us. Thank You for loving me, thank You for loving these friends You have given me . . . more than they even love themselves. And, Father, we thank You for Your faithfulness, that You can always be trusted, no matter what the . . .”

  Conrad tried to pay attention and focus upon the prayer, but it was no use. His mind continued to swim with Eli’s last words about parallel universes . . . and about his accident. The accident he’d nearly forgotten—and for good reason. Everything had returned to normal. Well, everything but Conrad’s life. Thanks to Eli, that seemed to have changed radically.

  He readjusted himself, leaning against the fallen log, waving off the droning bugs, and finally finding a comfortable spot in the needles. What had Suzanne said— “Look where you are, look how far you’ve come?” Dear, sweet Suzanne.

  She’d only been gone six days, but it felt like a month. They’d e-mailed several times, called almost as many. Michael had taken a turn for the worse. In fact, it was doubtful he’d make hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 212

  212 it through the night. Once again Suzanne had pleaded with Eli to come, and once again he had refused, always with the same explanation . . . “It has to be this way for God’s glory. It’s better that I don’t come.”

  Conrad shook his head. It seemed so unfair. Eli was so quick to reach out and assist strangers, like that cat woman on the overpass. But when it came to those he was closest to, who loved him the deepest, he seemed to actually withhold that help. It reminded him of Coach Simmons back in high school, the track coach who, after sending the rest of the team to the showers, kept his star athletes and made them run one more lap. Even when they insisted they couldn’t take another step, he ordered them to go one more. That’s how it was with Eli . . . one more lap, one more test, one more inch of growth.

  “I don’t want you crawling around like a baby the rest of your life . . .”

  Conrad wasn’t sure when he’d dozed off, but he knew when he awoke. For there, not fifteen feet in front of him, stood Eli. At least he thought it was Eli. It was hard to tell from the blinding whiteness of his clothes. They were as bright as the sun. So bright that it was nearly impossible to see his face. And standing there beside him were two others, clothed in equal brightness. At first Conrad thought they might be angels. But he saw no wings. Weren’t angels supposed to have wings? He wasn’t sure. But he was sure that they looked like men, like Eli except older. And, instead of jeans and T-shirts, they appeared to be wearing robes.

  Neither of them noticed Conrad, Jake, or Robert. They were too deep in discussion with Eli—something about death and his fear of being “cut off from the Father.” The two seemed to understand, and although it was impossible to tell who was speaking and to whom, the voices kept reassuring Eli that he was in “the center of the Father’s will.”

  To his left, Conrad heard a disturbance. He turned and saw Jake staggering to his feet. The big man’s eyes were as wide as saucers and he was shaking like a leaf. He was in such hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 213

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  shock that he resorted to what he did best: Talk. “Eli . . .” he stammered. “Eli, this is great. I mean, what’s happening. I’d love to get a photo, you know, to remember this by. How ’bout a drink? Are your friends thirsty? I could run back to the camper, get a camera, grab a few sodas, it would only take a couple minutes.”

  Of course
Jake didn’t exactly make sense. What do glowing creatures drink? And were they really in the mood for a photo op? But it didn’t make any difference to Jake, as long as he was talking. Unfortunately, all he succeeded in doing was disrupting their conversation. And with that disruption, came another phenomenon, even more frightening . . .

  The air surrounding them began to sparkle, to glow like a bright fog. Only it wasn’t just a fog of vapor, it was a fog of light—a light that grew brighter and brighter until it was so brilliant that Conrad could no longer make out any shapes or forms—no faces, no trees, not even the forest floor, only light.

  Terrible, frightening light. But it was more than light. It was a power, a majesty so intense, so terrifying that Conrad found it difficult to breathe. He opened his mouth, he started to cry out, but no sound would come. He tried rising to his feet, but he was too paralyzed to move. His heart pounded in his ears, loud and fast. Now there was only the pounding and the power and the horror—the paralyzing, terrifying horror.

  And then, when he was certain he could stand no more

  . . . there was more. A voice exploded in his head. But it wasn’t in his head, it was in his body, in the ground at his feet, in the light surrounding him. It filled everything inside of him and everything around him. It boomed like thunder, but a thousand times louder, and a thousand times more frightening:

  THIS IS MY SON. LISTEN TO HIM!

  Conrad’s heart trip-hammered. The experience was too much. His head grew light, overloaded, he was passing out.

  And then, just before he lost consciousness, the light began to hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 214

  214 dim. The blazing cloud started to fade and dissolve. It dissipated rapidly, growing more and more faint until, finally, there were only a few wisps of vapor that blew and swirled about, lingering for just a moment until they, too, disappeared. Completely.

  Conrad took several deep breaths, trying to clear his head, trying to shake off the paralyzing fear. He shot a look over at Jake and Robert. They were also breathing hard. He turned back to Eli and his visitors. But the visitors were gone. So was the glowing brightness of Eli’s clothes. Now it was just Eli, looking back at them. He flashed a smile, then stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled toward them.

  “Well, now,” he said, breaking into his grin, “that was something, wasn’t it?”

  The men could only stare at him, speechless.

  Eli’s grin faded as he knelt down to join them. Suddenly he was very serious and very earnest. “You caught a glimpse of who I really am, of the glory I share with my Father. But it’s important that you tell no one. Is that clear?”

  They nodded numbly.

  “Not yet. Not until I’ve made the sacrifice and come back from the dead.”

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  C H A P T E R

  E L E V E N

  AS CONRAD DROVE TREVOR’S BEAT-UP TOYOTA THROUGH THE MAIN

  street of Lebanon, Tennessee, population 25,000, he was surprised to see how little had changed since he’d visited Suzanne’s parents so many years earlier. There was still the tree-lined streets of oak and maple, the big stately houses with their flower gardens of red, yellow, and white impatiens, and the pots overflowing like fountains with petunias. Then, of course, there were the magnolias (one of which had been transplanted to their home in Pasadena). In the town square, whose surrounding stores had mostly given way to antique shops and gift boutiques, older men sat off to the side not far from the gaze of the General Hatton statue, stewing over the latest gossip they’d heard down at Johnny’s Barbershop or the Cardinal Cafe. And, as always, there was the heat and humidity. Plenty of both.

  Once he’d passed through town, it was just a matter of minutes before he pulled the Toyota off the highway and turned down the lane leading to Suzanne’s sister’s farm. The crunching gravel and barking dog announced his arrival, and Suzanne was immediately on the porch, shading her eyes.

  He’d not even come to a stop before she was racing down the steps toward him. “Connie!”

  215

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  He opened the door and climbed out just in time to catch her in his arms.

  “Oh, Connie . . .”

  He held her tight. How he’d missed her. She was his tent peg, the only constant in this ever-swirling, ever-changing world. But there was another reason he held her, and it had nothing to do with his needs. Instead, it had everything to do with hers. It had to do with her grief.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. She nodded and tightened the embrace. He could feel her body shudder and he knew she was crying. It had been five days since her brother had died—one day since the funeral. The funeral Conrad had tried to attend so he could be by her side and offer support, but the one she had insisted he miss.

  The dog quit barking. Now there were only the incessant cicadas and Suzanne’s quiet sobs as she clung to him. He heard the screen door groan and looked over to see Cindy, his ex-sister-in-law, glaring down at them. She was a strong-willed woman who had seen no need to remarry after her divorce some thirty years earlier. She and Conrad had never been friends, even in the best of times. And once his affairs had started, Cindy was the primary force behind Suzanne’s filing for divorce. Not that he blamed her. He would have probably given Suzanne the same counsel had he been asked.

  But now, for Cindy to see the two of them together, after all he’d put Suzanne through—well, he could only imagine what she was thinking.

  They pulled back for a moment, just long enough for Suzanne to kiss him and for him to taste the saltiness of her tears, before they fell back into another embrace.

  “I’m sorry I missed the service,” he said.

  She pulled back again, forcing a smile at him through her tears. “Liar.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My whole family was here, even Julia. You’re tough, but facing all of them at the same time . . . I don’t think so.”

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  “I would have been here in a second if you hadn’t insisted I stay.”

  She embraced him again. “I know.”

  “Is Julia . . .” He swallowed. “Is she still here?”

  Suzanne shook her head. “She left right after the service.”

  Conrad nodded, feeling the familiar sadness. In the old days, he’d been able to avoid it with work or some other distraction. But not anymore. Not since Eli had begun stripping away his defenses, not since he was becoming more and more vulnerable.

  “Where are the others?” Suzanne asked. “Where’s Eli?”

  “Right behind me. I wanted to get here just a little before them and—”

  The dog resumed barking. They both looked out toward the road. A convoy of eight or nine vehicles began pulling into the lane with Will’s camper in the lead. Conrad stole a glance at the porch and caught Cindy watching stoically. She was not going to like this. He turned back toward the convoy.

  He saw Eli sitting in the front vehicle, across the seat from Will.

  A moment later Suzanne was racing toward him. “Eli . . .

  Eli!”

  The camper pulled to a stop behind the Toyota. Eli opened the door to step out. And there was Suzanne to greet him, throwing her arms around him.

  When they finally separated, he looked into her eyes.

  “How are you?” he quietly asked.

  She nodded, glancing away, obviously trying not to cry.

  “Suzanne?”

  She continued looking away.

  “Suzanne, look at me.”

  Her eyes faltered, then looked back to him.

  Again he asked. “How are you?”

  When she spoke her voice was thick. “It’s just . . . If you had been here, I know you could have healed him. I know he wouldn’t have died.”

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  “Your brother will rise again
.”

  “I know.” She nodded, glancing away and wiping the tears. “On resurrection day, of course, but—”

  “Suzanne. Suzanne, look at me.” His voice was firm but growing in emotion. “Look at me.”

  She turned to face him.

  “I am the resurrection, Suzanne. I am the life. Anyone who believes in me and dies will come back to life again.

  Anyone who lives and believes in me will never die but live forever. Do you believe that?”

  She swallowed hard, blinking back the tears.

  “Do you believe it?” he repeated.

  “Yes,” she choked, “I believe you are the Messiah, the Son of God—” But that was all she could say before emotion over-took her. Immediately, Conrad was at her side. When he looked at Eli, the young man’s eyes were also brimming with tears. They spilled onto his cheeks and tracked down his face.

  Conrad had seen Eli moved with compassion before, but never quite like this. Maybe he finally realized his mistake.

  Maybe now he saw that he should have come earlier, before it was too late.

  “Where have you buried him?” Eli asked, struggling to speak through his emotion.

  “At Cedar Grove Cemetery,” Suzanne answered. “The old part of town.”

  Eli nodded. Then, looking over to Conrad, he said, “Connie, I want you to get a permit.”

  “A permit? For what?”

  “To exhume the body.”

  Conrad’s jaw dropped. “Eli . . . He’s dead and buried.”

  “I know.”

  “But—”

  “Didn’t I say this would help you see the glory of God?”

  Eli wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Well, yes, but . . .” Conrad turned to Suzanne, hoping she would make Eli see reason. “Suzanne . . .” But, even through hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 219

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  her tears, she was looking at Eli with an expression of hope and expectancy. Was there nothing this woman could not believe? “Suzanne,” he repeated.