Johnson, C. W.

by The Son of Man 2, Elders of Zion

  "People are coming," the woman said. "Do you want people to find your belongings here?"

  Maria wrapped her hands around the woman’s throat. "Give me my baby!" she growled.

  "I’m surprised that baby stayed around as long as he did," the woman continued, unperturbed by the tightening hands around her throat. "You won’t be needing him anyway, now that you no longer have a family."

  Maria wailed and began clawing at the woman’s face… No, it was Debby’s face.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump…

  "Get out of my house!" Maria demanded, "or I swear to God I’ll kill you!"

  The woman laughed. "You think you’re a real girl."

  Maria heard the faint sound of her crying baby. She released the woman and turned in the direction of the sound. It was coming from just outside the door.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump…

  Maria raced to the door. Father Jenkins was holding her baby. Her crying baby. He was stepping into a car parked in the driveway.

  "Oh-no," Father Jenkins said, as he slid into the passenger seat of a gleaming black Escalade. "Of course you’re not a real girl." He began chuckling.

  "You’re so beautiful, Maria," the woman said.

  Maria could hear Father Jenkins and someone else laughing inside the Escalade. Maria put her hands to her ears and began backing away from the door.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump…

  Suddenly Todd was behind her. "Maria!" he yelled. "They’ve taken the baby!"

  Maria sprang upright in a bed… a hospital bed.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump…

  Strange thumping sounds were coming from the window. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She had been dreaming again.

  Snow was whirling past a wide window on the other side of the room… a hospital room. To her amazement, a massive military helicopter dropped into view and was settling down just outside the window.

  Thump, thump, thump, thump…

  Another touched down… just behind it, and another… behind and farther away.

  "It’s okay," a voice said, startling her. She realized a nurse in white was standing over her bed. "Someone is coming to see you," the nurse said.

  Maria looked around the room frantically. "Where’s my baby?"

  "He’s fine," the nurse said. She turned and moved to a crib, pulled Joshua out and placed him in Maria’s outstretched arms.

  "Oh my baby," Maria said cooing. "I had the most horrible dreams. Todd hated me, everyone was laughing, wolves were guiding us out of the—wait, where am I? Where is everyone, how did I get here?"

  "Everyone is fine," the nurse said. "We found you on the mountain, or you found us. Anyway, you’re here now. You’re all here."

  "Have you heard from Parktown? The avalanche… is everyone okay. Is Todd okay?"

  The nurse smiled softly. "Doctor Riley is fine. He’s taking care of things at the Parktown clinic. We notified him. He knows you’re here."

  "Is he coming?" Maria asked breathlessly. "Is that him in the helicopter?"

  "No," Gladys’s familiar voice sounded from the foot of her bed. "I’m afraid it’s just me." The nurse moved away and Gladys approached the bed smiling.

  Two military men were standing stoically at the door.

  "Todd would love to be here, "she said, "believe me. He’s the only doctor in Parktown right now. But he sends his love."

  Maria’s face hardened. "What the hell is she doing here?"

  Gladys turned and glanced at Debby standing sheepishly in the door way between the two military men.

  "We’ve come to clear something up," one of the military men said. His voice was deep and confident. His demeanor instantly demanded respect. He was built thick, muscular, average in height. His hair was black except for slight graying at the temples. He turned his handsome chiseled face, leveled a long look at the child in her arms and purposely moved to the side of Maria's bed.

  "Maria," Gladys said softly, reaching for her hand. "May I present President Hatfield.”

  Maria’s eyes widened. "President Hatfield?"

  Gladys nodded. "President Hatfield."

  She watched him turn, pull up a chair and sit down next to her bed. Debby and a young man, Maria had never seen before, moved into the room and stood quietly behind the president.

  "Debby tells me there has been a slight misunderstanding," the president began.

  Maria glanced up at Debby and back at the president. "No misunderstanding that I know of, sir," she said. "I caught them together at the clinic. They were...undressed."

  "No, no," Debby said, moving forward. "We… I spilled rubbing alcohol all over him. It was burning him. He took his shirt off because it was burning him—"

  "What were you doing there?" Maria said interrupting. "Todd lied to me. He said Gladys needed him… at her cabin. Why were you two at the clinic alone together?"She shook her head. "For that matter, why am I even talking to you? You told me you two were together!"

  Debby slowly moved forward again. "Maria,” she said softly, "I lied to you. I swear to Heavenly Father that I lied to you. I admit, I flirted with Todd, but he never flirted back. He only got mad.... Maria, it would be easier to turn a hurricane than to turn Todd's head away from you. He loves you. I was just jealous." She glanced at the man who was with her and looked back at Maria. "This is my husband, Cyrus. We've been having...problems."

  "I wonder why?" Gladys said sending a scalding look at Debby.

  Debby's eyes fell to the floor. "But I swear," she continued after a moment, "I never meant for this to happen. I never imagined you and the baby would be caught in a storm on the mountain. I was going to make it right. I swear I was. I was being a jerk and Todd got mad. He told me I was harassing him. It hurt my feelings. I just wanted to hurt him back, that's all."

  "Up until recently,” the president said, breaking his silence. “Debby and her husband, worked for us at the genealogy library."

  The young man standing beside Debby moved forward and offered his hand. "I’m Cyrus, Debby’s husband."

  Maria shook her head. "Genealogy? But, I thought Debby wanted to be a doctor."

  "She wants to be a doctor," the president said. "Cyrus and Debby had been called into voluntary service at the library, what we call a mission. Of course, in light of recent events, Debby will now be free to concentrate on her medical studies. But naturally, that too is up to Gladys."

  Gladys glowered at Debby. "No, I don't think that would be possible since your responsibilities would include working closely with Todd."

  Debby glared around the room. "Fine," she said. "I don't need any of you!" She spun, moved to leave the room and slowly turned back. She had begun to cry. "I didn't mean for all this to happen," she repeated quietly. She glanced one more time at Maria. "You don't know how lucky you are to have a man who loves you that much." She turned her eyes towards her husband and quickly left the room.

  Debby's husband sighed. "Sorry."

  "The point is," the president continued, "for better or for worse, these three: Cyrus, Debby, and your husband have been working together. Behind your back, it’s true, but not for the reasons you are thinking."

  "Honestly Maria," Gladys said. “You don’t know how hard Todd's been working, trying to surprise you."

  "Surprise me?" She stopped talking , shook her head and raised her free hand out in front of her."Wait a minute, wait a minute!" She looked at Gladys, tears welling in her eyes, her lips quivering. "Todd loves me? He never did…that?"

  Gladys reached, took hold of Maria’s hand and looked deep into her eyes. “He never did that.”

  Maria pulled her baby’s blanket up to cover her face and wept.

  Gladys quickly moved closer.

  The visitors reverently fell silent allowing Maria her time of quiet sobbing. Finally, she was able to speak.

  "Where is he?” she moaned. “I need him. I need to hold him."

  "He’s taking care of Zach Boon’s broken leg."

/>   Maria looked up from the baby blanket. "Little Zach Boon?"

  "Yes, the avalanche."

  "Anyone else?" Maria said. "Any word on Chad Jensen’s wife?"

  Gladys smiled and shook her head. "Charlene is fine. She came down the mountain just before the avalanche looking for help for you."

  Maria gasped. "Oh thank God!"

  "We’ll talk about that later," Gladys said softly.

  Maria glanced back at Cyrus. "What...surprise? What were you talking about?"

  "There again," the president said. "We’ll let you discuss that with your husband."

  He glanced at Gladys and turned to the others in the room. "Could Gladys and I have a moment with Mrs. Rose?"

  "Please call me Mrs. Riley."

  "Mrs. Riley it is," the president said, smiling.

  Cyrus and the military men left the room.

  "What is it?" Maria asked.

  President Hatfield studied the baby for a time before glancing back at Gladys. "Is this—"

  Gladys nodded. "Yes, that’s our Joshua."

  Maria quickly pulled the child to her and stared at Gladys. "Gladys, what have you done?"

  "Gladys didn’t do anything," the president said quickly, "except to ask for our help on your behalf. The facts surrounding this child are simply a matter of record."

  Maria kicked back away from the president and pressed herself against the hospital bed headboard. "A matter of record? Who else knows?"

  "No-one," the president said. "The records have been destroyed—"

  She shook her head. "Oh, you don’t know them. You don’t know what they can do."

  "Maria," Gladys said. "This is President Hatfield you are talking to. The European Union approaches him with hats in hand. He’s practically a sovereign head of state."

  "She’s right, Mrs. Riley," the president said. "The Signo Vinces can’t possibly touch you here."

  Maria clutched the blanket to her face. "Oh my God you know everything. You know about the Vinces?"

  "And they know us," the president said. "Trust me, they won’t know about you, and even if they did, they wouldn’t dare bother you."

  "Oh no," Maria said softly. "What now; what do we do now?"

  "You go back home to Parktown, back to your husband. You raise your child just like everyone else—"

  "But," Maria said interrupting, "everyone knows. We can never go back."

  The president raised his hand. "No-one knows, not a soul. And that’s the way it will stay. I give you my word. But you must stay here. The Signo Vinces think you’re dead. They will remain thinking you are dead. But you must not leave our protection."

  Maria stared at the president. "Why?" she said softly. "Why are you doing this?"

  The president sat back in his chair. "I don’t know what you know about our religion but we are very… family oriented. The preservation of the family is a fundamental part of our faith. The Signo Vinces violated yours. I won’t allow that sort of intrusion again."

  Maria slowly relaxed. "Thank you. How can we ever thank you?"

  "You can let me look at this little boy one more time," the president said smiling.

  Maria leaned forward and opened Joshua’s blanket. The president gently stroked his head. Josh flinched, stretched his miniature arms with their tiny balled up fists, pulled a face and returned to his peaceful slumber.

  The president smiled and gazed down into the child’s face. Maria grinned back as the president scanned the baby’s features as if trying to secure them to memory.

  "This isn’t Jesus, you know," she said finally. "This is Josh."

  The president glanced up at her before looking back at the baby."I know. I’m just thinking about… genealogy."

  ~~~

  The editor sat at his expansive, wrap-around desk, leaning back in his genuine high-backed B-52 Stratofortress ejector seat office chair, a final touch to an opulent, window-clad corner office overlooking Thomas More Street in fashionable downtown London.

  A short stint in the RAF had fueled an interest in all things aircraft, particularly Cold War era, before the squashed, shapeless things called “stealth”.

  Scale models of legendary postwar aircraft - the likes of the RAF Victor and Lightning, the Russian MiG-21, and AVRO Vulcan - sat in well-lit, glass-shrouded cases covering the walls from floor to ceiling. Framed, grinning faces of RAF chums sat between, behind and around the models, along with patriotic posters in all shapes and sizes. A foot wide stripe of gold and blue bordered the navy blue carpet, covered partially by a 10x15 throw rug, woven to resemble the deck of the HMS Queen Elizabeth.

  An eight by ten photograph had been relayed up the ladder, through a team of three editorial assistants, an assistant editor, associate editor and two senior editors before finally reaching the office of the editor-in-chief himself.

  He was looking it over as he waited impatiently for the photographer to show up. He glanced down at his wristwatch and back at the photograph before reaching and pushing his secretary’s call button on his phone. "Max arrived yet?"

  "He just left the elevator, Mr. Dale."

  "It’s about time!" the editor-in-chief said. He leaned back and returned his attention to the photograph.

  The door opened and a tall man stepped into the office wearing a sandy colored suit coat and blue jeans.

  "Max!" the editor yelled. "I called for you a half hour ago. What took you so bloody long?"

  The photographer turned and motioned towards the door with both hands."Quite sorry sir. Was a… bit of a delay near the elevator; it seems one of the elevators is down. I had to wait—"

  "This is not the time to be all over the gaff, Max."

  "Over the gaff, sir? But I—"

  "How long have you been sitting on this photograph, Max?" the editor said interrupting. "How long has it been since you returned from that Ricky assignment… what, three weeks now? Are you bloody trying to freelance this thing? Is that it?"

  "Oh no sir," the photographer said stammering.

  "Because we have a contract, you and I: I pay the expenses and you pull through! Why haven’t I seen this photograph? Why hasn’t anyone seen this photograph until now?"

  The photographer shrugged. "I… I simply didn’t…think it was the right time—"

  "Have you completely lost the plot?" The editor said. "It’s abso-bloody-lutely the right time. Where did you get it? Who’s this girl?”

  "It’s a… I took it in the Wasatch Mountains… old Utah, just before I left. I was watching her from a ways off…a small knoll… and she was walking into a rather large group of trees. I thought I saw a… I thought I saw something and I was trying to warn her. She turned and I snapped the picture. That’s pretty much it, sir."

  "She’s… quite extraordinary," the editor said, glancing down at the photograph.

  The photographer tipped his head slightly to the side."Oh yes, I must admit, she’s incredible… those eyes—"

  "What’s her name? What’s her story? Did she live in a settlement? Was she with the Mums?"

  "I… I never had a chance to actually meet up with her."

  "You didn’t meet her?"

  "No sir… I, she wasn’t…so much… a part of the story I was working on. I was looking for settlements—"

  "So, she didn’t live in a settlement? She was just wandering about homeless?"

  "Well… no, I suppose she lived in a settlement, but I—"

  "Well, you simply must go back."

  "Go back?"

  "You must go back," the editor said, leaning back in his chair. "The readers are going to want to learn all they can about our little Ricky girl."

  "Ricky girl?"

  The editor swiveled his chair away, turned and grinned, slapping the photo with the back of his hand, "This month’s bloody cover! Congratulations, your photo is going to be this month’s cover."

  The photographer stared for a moment before slowly sitting down in one of three chairs facing the editor’s desk. "No, no, I
can’t go back," he said softly.

  The Editor swiveled his chair back to face Max. "You can’t go? Why? You have something more pressing than your job? Of course you’re going."

  "No, no, I won’t be going back. I can’t. I’ll… die."

  "You’ll die?"

  "Um, I’m allergic. I’m allergic to something in those mountains. Besides, the Mums oversee everything. They won’t allow it. And… and, it’s too much like the Afghan girl. It’s all too obvious. It’ll look like we pinched the National Geo Afghan girl cover. It’s been done. It’s been done."

  "Max, Max, no need to have an eppy." The editor pulled his eyebrows together, leaned forward and gave the photographer a serious look. "What are you so hacked off for? Why are you trying to talk me out of this? This is a big opportunity for you—"

  The photographer stood. "I can’t go back. There… it’s settled. I can’t, and I won’t! Get… someone else if you must, but I—"

  He abruptly turned and moved towards the door, glancing back one more time before closing it behind him.

  ~~~

  "Todd!" Eric hollered through the bedlam. "Helicopters are here. They’re landing in the parking lot."

  "Hold this," Todd yelled back. He reached and pulled Eric’s finger into a wrap of Iodoflex pad dressing he had wrapped around Kathy Smith’s stitches moments earlier. He extracted a line of surgical adhesive tape and quickly secured the bandage behind Eric’s finger. "Any news of Maria and Stacey?" he without looking up.

  "Nothing yet. Louis is standing near the radio. He’ll let us know if anything changes, they’re all fine though. That’s what’s important."

  Todd nodded and went back to securing the little girl’s bandage. "Is Maria…" Todd paused for a moment and continued, "talking or…anything?"

  "Yeah," Eric said. "They are all conscious and talking. No frostbite. Little Josh is no worse for wear from what I understand."

  Todd smiled softly. "Did she…Maria ask about me?"

  "I don’t know," Eric said.

  The crowded clinic door abruptly opened, unleashing a cold blast of mountain air into the tiny room. Gladys stepped in and closed the door behind her. Everyone began yelling, vying for her attention, but she went straight to Todd. "I’ll take it from here. You go."