Through the parting clouds, more appeared, legions of winged angels soaring down upon us with speed and finesse, hovering and landing among us. They smiled at our excitement and looked back toward the sky.
This next part did seem like a dream (and does to this day) but when the last angel touched ground, another trumpet sounded and from the opening in the clouds, the Lord God Himself appeared.
***
We walked for a long time, the masses and I, down the gold highway, past cities and villages, past orchards and farms. We moved in shocked silence, in awe, not of the wondrous New Kingdom, but of having seen the face of God.
***
Our masses diminished slightly with each forgotten step as people broke from the pack on smaller roads and trails, across open fields and over hills and mountains. To our new dwellings we traveled, without map or compass, guided by an unseen navigator, like birds returning home.
31
I stayed on the bench long after the children had quit their games. A certain peace settled over me. My shame was upon me, but it wasn’t as heavy as before, buried as it had been under so many pounds of denial. I had lent easy names to my sinful nature—liar, cheater, thief, gambler, coward, and on and on—but I had failed to own up to the facts. So, in that sense, I had admitted nothing. There was an expression on the Old Earth: The devil is in the details. I had to see Danny. It was time for her to meet the devil in me.
***
I headed toward the Great Pyramid to see if I could find her again. It was a huge place, and I didn’t know her job title or anything, but I figured someone must know her there. And perhaps, since she seemed to be working with the Apostle Paul, she would be easy to find.
***
As I walked, I thought about how I would tell her about that day. The old George was already back to work editorializing. I shook my head. I just needed to lay it out for her, exactly as it occurred. And so I began to let myself remember. I continued toward the pyramid, flinching as the images of that awful day played in my head.
***
I cursed Danny after she went down the mountain to die. I was terrified for her, but mostly for myself, so I masked the fear with anger. I paced around the camp, wringing my hands, the expectant father of indecision. I’m not sure how long I waited, just long enough, I suppose, to remain noncommittal, if need be. Then, when it was too late, I ran down the mountain to find her.
***
The nearest town was about five miles away. We didn’t even know the name of it. Danny and I had done some reconnoitering in the hills above the town soon after our departure from the wasteland left in the wake of the asteroid. We decided to leave it alone because there was at least a platoon of Minions stationed there, and the town was so small that any pilfering would have been quickly discovered and met with by another Minion search party. We couldn’t chance it. We didn’t have any caves to hide in, and besides, Danny, with her uncanny intuitions, was keeping us fairly well fed.
***
I heard the commotion as soon as I reached the edge of the town. I sidled up against an old tire shop and peered around the corner. I couldn’t see where the commotion was coming from, but what I did see shocked me. It wasn’t at all the same well-oiled New World Order city we had seen from the hills only months before, the clean and pressed Mark-bearers going about their business with rosy cheeks and nary a care in the world, protected as they were by equally content and polished Minions.
No, the town before me now was like a scene from the film Mad Max, about a cop shooting his way through an apocalyptic and nightmarish landscape. There were cars everywhere, some with their hoods up, most with their gas doors open. Between the cars, the streets were full of garbage: empty cans and broken bottles, plastic containers and empty boxes, cleaned bones and rotting animals. And then there were the people.
The people were a mess. I came out from behind the building. I no longer feared discovery. I fit right in with them—a few haggard young women, but mostly older folks, unkempt and unshaven, their marks hidden beneath layers of grime, their clothes spent and hanging, their faces gaunt, their eyes vacant as if their minds existed in another place.
***
Their leader had failed them, the promised utopia of the New World Order now a distant dream, as faint and despicable as the Third Reich. Like Hitler, the Antichrist had ultimately stripped his kingdom, drafting anyone who could fight, leaving the cities and towns to their own devices, gathering almost every resource for his last hopeless battle.
***
The people moved slowly but with purpose. They were headed toward the commotion. I eased into their staggered flow as they turned a corner. There was already a crowd in the middle of the street. They were watching something, shouting obscenities and threats, waving their weak fists with halfhearted excitement and a reluctant bloodlust, like fallen Roman citizens in a crumbling coliseum.
I knew it was Danny behind the crowd, but I pushed through to be sure. Any heroic thought I might have had while coming down the mountain was quashed the minute I saw her.
Kneeling and broken, yet somehow clutching her Bible, she was unrecognizable, but for one tiny corner at the tail of her blue flannel shirt not yet covered in blood. Her head and face, black, blue, and dark red, were spotted with swollen lumps like some forbidden alien planet. Three Minions in faded jumpsuits stood over her holding heavy wooden batons.
“Denounce your God!” ordered one of the Minions, his voice firm yet somehow panicked at the same time.
“Forgive…please forgive…Jesus….” she mumbled.
Any real man would have jumped to her defense, would have protected her, would have thrown his body over hers to block the blows. At the very least, he would have said something.
I was too afraid even to blink. Everything I already knew about myself was true. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was a coward. The brave Danny, through torn lips and broken teeth, managed to forgive them, while George Somerset stood frozen, protecting himself, as always, until a last blow struck her dead.
***
Slinking from the crowd, tears pouring down my face, I moved quickly, staring at the ground, as much to avoid discovery as to cover my deep shame. Still, a woman noticed and grabbed hold of my shoulder. I looked up at her.
“You knew her?” she said.
“No,” and I immediately thought of the Apostle Peter; I could almost hear a cock crow.
“Why are you crying? She’s an enemy of the New World Order!” she said, and took my grimy wrist, turning it over to examine.
I tore it from her grip, moving away from her as fast as I could walk. When I looked back, she was conversing with some men in the crowd. I took off running.
***
At the Last Supper, Jesus took Peter aside, informing His disciple he would betray Him before the morning cock crowed. Peter protested, proclaiming his unwavering loyalty to his Messiah, even if it meant certain death. That very evening, Peter denied even knowing Jesus—not once, but three times.
Peter would be given other opportunities to prove his loyalty. He would go on to build the Christian church, face death on many occasions, and ultimately martyr himself. Redemption was always on the table. God was a good guy like that.
***
I had been given at least one more opportunity at redemption myself. I could have done something right. I could have gone for my Bible. I could have brought it back to that miserable town to scream my faith. I could have demanded a proper burial for my friend. I could have at least gone back to say a small prayer over Danny’s broken body. What did I do? I crawled into a hole, curled up, and waited for the end of the old world.
***
I was in front of the Great Pyramid much sooner than I expected, more likely sooner than I wished. My feet felt heavy moving up the long staircase. By the time I reached the top, a measure of shame had returned. I kept on. It had to be today.
***
As soon as I saw the first station of the
cross, I was moved again, but this time I felt not overwhelming sadness, but a flash of hope, so I kept going.
I spotted the information desk where a smiling woman attended a short line of tourists. I waited until it was my turn.
“I’m looking for somebody,” I said.
“A particular apostle? A saint, perhaps?” she said.
“A woman…I think she works here.”
“Her name?” she said.
“Her name?” I said.
“Yes, her name?”
I stumbled. I hadn’t said her name out loud for so long that I wasn’t sure I could. “Danny…Danielle…Danielle Knowles,” I finally managed.
Her smile grew wider. “You know Danielle?”
“Yes…I do…well, I did…from before.”
“Isn’t she great?”
“Yes, she is…. She is great.”
“She’s not here.”
“Oh…”
“She’s off today.”
“Do you know where I might find her?”
“I don’t know…maybe at home.”
“Where’s that?”
She paused, but only for a moment, as if still vaguely aware of Old Earth customs regarding privacy and confidentiality. “The Tower,” she said.
“The Tower?” I asked.
“You can’t miss it…it’s only the tallest building on the planet,” she said. There was still a tiny bit of sarcasm to be had, even in paradise.
“Thank you.”
***
I ran for her, ran like I should have down the mountain to join her that day. I thought if I didn’t run, I might just change my mind, go away sulking for a few more years, try again later. After all, I had eternity.
I didn’t stop running until I was in front of the Tower. When I had pictured Danny before, it was on an estate, something similar to my daughter’s place, with wild horses and great fields of orange grass. But I should have known. Danny was a city girl at heart. After she left the fields of her home in Iowa, beyond her forced sojourn in the mountains, she would have little to do with the country. And now, looking up, I pictured her lounging on a velvet couch in a silk bathrobe, in a spectacular top floor penthouse with 360-degree views, and believed it silly to imagine her anywhere else.
***
I found her name on the directory and pressed the buzzer. She didn’t say hello. She didn’t ask who I was. Only this came out of the speaker: It’s about time, George, come on up!
***
I nearly cursed the lightning-fast elevator that carried me the 200 floors for not giving me time even to digest her flippant greeting. The elevator stopped, not quite at the top, but pretty close. I must be right about the views though, I thought; hers was the only penthouse on the floor. I stepped into the large foyer, filled with a large selection of indoor plants. She wasn’t ignoring nature altogether. I spotted the door, approaching it to rap the silver handle, but it was open before I could take two steps, and we were face to face again.
***
“George Somerset, as I live and breathe!” She moved to embrace me. She was way too happy to see me, and it only made me feel worse. I tried to step back into the elevator, but the door had already closed. Then her arms were around me and she held me tight.
I tried to move away. She held on. “No, Danielle, I’m a coward…a Judas,” I said.
She giggled. “Always so dramatic, George.” She held my face. “Look at me. I love you George—and you saved our lives….”
“You don’t know, Danielle.”
“Would you quit calling me Danielle—you’re my friend. You found the cave. You took us in. We were lost, thirsty and starving…you knew how to survive. You fed us, you taught us…you saved my son….”
I felt only shame; I began to sob.
“No, George, will you stop?” She led me inside and sat me on her couch.
“You don’t know. I was there…I didn’t stop it.” I looked up. She wore a plaid dress with an oversized knitted sweater. Her hair was tied carelessly, but I could see her neck, and it reminded me of our days on the mountain. I closed my eyes and the tears came harder. When I opened them, she was smiling. I didn’t understand. “You were murdered, right in front of me. They were hurting you so bad…I didn’t do a thing…”
She sat next me, rubbing my shoulder. She didn’t say anything for a long time. Then she spoke: “I knew you were there. I was sad for you to have to see it, but I felt you and it gave me strength.”
“Sad for me? I’m a coward.”
“I made the choice. It wasn’t for you to jump in and stop it. You’re not a coward. You’re just normal. I didn’t think it through. If I had…If I’d known what was coming, I wouldn’t have been able to go down there. You were the practical one. That’s what kept us alive for so long.”
“A lot of good it did everyone.”
“Every minute of life is precious. More than anyone…you believed that. Of course you’re not perfect. You have to stop beating yourself up. That’s an Old Earth mistake…that’s what kept people from becoming closer to God…kept them on the same path…kept them sinning. Look at you now, George—you might be the most miserable person in paradise. You still haven’t let go. You thought you could stop sinning, you thought they were your sins to beat; you never could and they never were. Accept it—they are His to bear—this is the only freedom there is.”
“That’s what I came here to do. I came to come clean—to tell you everything.”
“I know…and it means everything that you came. I don’t want the details. Close your eyes. Give it to God.”
***
I sat praying for a long time, praying and crying until my tears were spent. I felt lighter. I sat back on the couch and opened my eyes. It was first time I noticed the view. The window encompassed an entire wall of the living room, one flawless pane of lightly tinted glass, beyond it the shining beauty of New Jerusalem, beyond that, the magnificently odd colors of paradise stretching for miles to the sea. “Wow!” was all I could get out.
She elbowed me and smiled her infectious, self-pleasing grin. “Pretty sweet pad, huh?” she said.
I finally managed to smile. “Not bad.”
“Not bad? Worth a few little smacks from the Minions I’d say—don’t you think?” she laughed. I frowned. “C’mon…will you stop already? What, did you want me to listen to every gruesome detail? It was bad enough the first time.”
“No, I guess not.”
She mussed up my hair like she often did on the Old Earth. “You look good, George. Not like that old man I knew on the mountain.”
“You look amazing.”
“Thanks,” she said.
I put my head down, thinking about that day again. I couldn’t help myself.
“It’s okay, George; this isn’t going to happen overnight. You’re making progress. Your light is a little brighter than it was the other day.”
“I knew you saw me at the lecture,” I said.
“I did. So what?”
“I couldn’t face you. See—I am a coward.”
“No…just a big wimp,” she said and laughed at me.
“Yes…that’s exactly what I need…you to quit being nice to me—to give me the grief I deserve. Please…keep going,” I said.
“That’s not what you need, George. But I know what you do need.” She took my hand. “Follow me.”
32
She held my hand as we walked the golden streets. The snow had mostly melted. It was a bright and glorious day. “Where are you taking me?” I said.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t know if I can take any more surprises here. I’ve had a few already.”
“All the visitors do, George.”
“They do?”
“They all have their reasons for coming.”
“And what was my reason?”
“You came to see me, of course,” she said, grinning.
***
We walked beside the Great
Pyramid. “So you work here?” I said.
“Yes.”
“Amazing place… What do you do exactly?”
“I guess I’m a counselor of sorts. After one of the apostles speaks, I talk to people.”
“I should have guessed. You’re perfect for that. I suppose I’m your client today.”
“You’re my friend,” she said, and she gave me a rap on the head with her knuckle. “But you do need help up here.”
“I won’t argue,” I said.
“A lot of people come here for help—most don’t wait so long the first time.”
“I had a lot on my mind.”
She smiled. “Seriously, though, George—eight years!”
“I know…huh.”
“And in all that time, you didn’t visit any of the others.”
“You know everything, don’t you? How is Roger?”
“He’s really good. He’s so different, so smart. You wouldn’t believe it. He lives in Tent City.” She was beaming.
“I was there…I could have seen him…I’m sorry.”
“And you should meet Speckle. Well, actually, his name is Albert. He’s so nice…so happy. You have to meet him,” she said.
“I know.”
“It’s silly. They’re your friends, George. They miss you. They say only good things about you.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of….”
***
It was almost noon and the streets filled as more visitors poured into the city. We crossed the street behind the Great Pyramid. Things became familiar. I’d been down these streets before. We were near my hotel. I felt uneasy.
“Promise me you’ll go see them.”
“I said I would. Will you go with me?”
“Yes,” she groaned, “I’ll go with you, little child.”
I grinned. “Thanks.”
***
We walked further, turned a few corners. I knew where we were headed even before I saw it. I shivered when I did. We were in the shadow of the Theater of History. I stopped.
What the Hand: A Novel About the End of the World and Beyond Page 33
