Outside Eden

by Merry Jones

  Speaking of Dada, Harper still wanted to talk to him. She sat up, reached for her cell phone to check the time. Just after six. Hank should be up, or just getting up.

  He answered on the first ring. Wide awake. Alert, as if expecting the call.

  ‘Hoppa?’ He sounded surprised. Who else would call at six a.m.?

  ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Sure. Yes. What’s up?’

  Harper hesitated. Hank was edgy, talking too fast. ‘Are you in a hurry?’

  ‘Not hurry. Just . . . Yes. Can’t talk now.’

  Harper ran a hand through her hair. Why couldn’t he talk? And if he couldn’t now, when could he?

  It must be the symposium. ‘You’re okay?’

  ‘Fine,’ Hank snapped. ‘Hoppa, what?’

  Chloe held up her stuffed monkey, squealing, ‘Mama, Dada. Adi, Geet.’

  ‘Why can’t you talk?’

  ‘Hoppa. Just . . . something came up. Tell me. Why. Calling?’

  Damn. She needed to talk to him, but not in a rush. What was so important that he couldn’t take a few minutes at six effing o’clock in the morning for a phone call? ‘Things are happening here.’ How could she explain quickly? ‘Bottom line: I think you were right. I should bring Chloe back to Jerusalem—’

  ‘No. Don’t.’

  What?

  ‘Not right now.’

  ‘Hank. Excuse me for being confused, but yesterday, you said we should come back.’

  ‘Changed. Mind.’

  ‘Listen. Ramsey Travis – or Travis Ramsey – his church is planning to kill somebody. They’ve already stabbed someone, and—’

  ‘Hoppa.’ Hank took a breath. ‘How do. You. Know this?’

  ‘How do I know? I heard them planning it.’

  A voice in the crib sang, ‘Ma yim, ma yim. Mitz. Mitz. Mitz.’

  Hank paused. ‘You heard them? How?’

  ‘How is not the point. I’m telling you there’s a murderer here—’

  ‘Calm down.’

  Really? ‘No. I will not calm down.’ In fact, she got out of bed, started pacing.

  ‘Eema. Geet. Adi. Mama.’

  ‘What’s the story, Hank? First, you want us to come back, and now, when I say I’m coming, you want us to stay? What the hell?’

  ‘Dada. Eemah.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He sighed. Then his tone changed. Became soothing. ‘Tell me what. Happened.’

  Harper’s nostrils flared. She steadied her voice so she’d sound less emotional. ‘Here’s the situation. The church council met last night and planned a sacrifice. Right after that, Yoshi – a man who lives here – was stabbed—’

  ‘Police there?’

  What? ‘Yes. Of course.’

  ‘Then they’ll solve. You’ll be. Safe.’

  Really? ‘Hank. I’m not worried about that. I can keep myself and Chloe safe. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to stay under these circumstances. Believe me. Travis is planning something, and I don’t want to be around when it comes down.’

  ‘Eemah. EEMAH.’ Chloe was getting impatient, her singsong becoming a complaint. Harper went to the crib; Chloe scrambled to her feet, reached for her.

  ‘But dig. What about?’

  Oh, the dig. The wall they’d unearthed. The excitement – the hunger to discover more. She lifted Chloe, grabbed a fresh diaper, carried her to the bed. ‘The dig will survive without me.’ She unfastened Chloe’s onesy.

  ‘But. Just found ruins. Can’t leave now.’

  What was going on?

  ‘I think you. Should stay longer. Good for you, your career.’

  ‘My career? What part of “there’s a killer here” don’t you understand?’

  ‘Police will find. Don’t lose this oppor. Tunity. Can’t run away.’

  Harper was speechless. Run away? Harper never ran away from anything. In fact, she’d been accused of seeking out danger and trouble, never backing down. She simmered silently as she changed Chloe’s diaper, dressed her in a monkey T-shirt and pair of shorts.

  Chloe chanted, ‘Eemah! Geet! Eemah! Geet!’

  ‘Not talking to me?’

  She said nothing.

  ‘Hoppa, give dig another. Couple days. Then, if you still want. Come back.’ Voices shouted in the background. Not in English. ‘Sorry, must go. I love you.’

  After the call, Harper brushed Chloe’s six teeth, combed out her curls, kissed her tummy. She followed their routine, but she couldn’t shake her feeling that something was wrong with Hank. Why had he been in such a rush at six a.m.? What could be going on so early? Why had he sounded so edgy?

  Harper pictured him in the hotel suite. Wearing a towel, fresh from the shower. And a woman – a naked woman, rubbing his back while he was on the phone. Her chest tightened. Could that be it?

  No, of course not. She shoved the woman out of the hotel room. Slammed the door.

  But why had Hank been so abrupt? Why had he changed his mind about her leaving Megiddo?

  Chloe beamed as Harper finally set her down to let her run around. ‘Geet?’ she asked.

  Good question. Where was Hagit? Harper looked out of the bedroom.

  Hagit was on the phone at the breakfast table, brows furrowed, talking in a low voice.

  ‘Geet!’ Chloe shrieked and ran to her.

  Hagit ended the call too quickly, smiling too broadly and trying too hard to act normal, as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.

  The kibbutz was on alert. Two security guards stopped at the bungalow, part of a door-to-door check, making sure everyone was all right, asking if anything unusual had happened during the night, looking around for hidden weapons or culprits. Men and women carrying firearms patrolled the streets and pathways. Gal and another man stopped and questioned everyone as they entered the restaurant building.

  Harper watched it all through a haze of sleeplessness. At breakfast, she asked Hagit, ‘Is this normal?’ She cut up an egg and some fruit for Chloe.

  ‘Of course it’s not normal. It’s a reaction. Remember, they think it was a terrorist.’ Hagit swallowed coffee. ‘They will take precautions.’

  ‘And if they don’t find the guy?’

  ‘They will. And if they don’t, they’ll keep looking until they do.’

  ‘I was thinking we should take Chloe back to Jerusalem—’

  ‘No.’

  No? ‘Excuse me?’ Hagit had reacted just like Hank. Definitively telling Harper not to leave. Why? And beyond that, Hagit was the babysitter. How did she feel entitled to tell Harper what to do?

  ‘I think you should stay.’ Hagit looked away, gave a chunk of sweet roll to Chloe. ‘What do you say, Chloe? To—’

  ‘Dah!’ Chloe grabbed the roll, squishing it.

  Hagit wiped Chloe’s mouth.

  ‘But why?’ Harper pressed. ‘Why should we stay?’

  Hagit made her customary shrug. ‘Why should we? Why shouldn’t we? There’s no reason to leave. You still have the dig. It’s why you came. The authorities here have matters under control. So, why rush off?’

  ‘Hank said I should wait a day or two.’

  ‘He’s smart, your husband.’

  What was going on? Why was Hagit so determined to stay? Unless . . . Wait . . . Had Hagit talked to Hank? Were they conspiring to keep her there? It seemed that way.

  But why would they do that? Unless . . . Were they hiding something?

  No, ridiculous. She was imagining things. Needed sleep.

  Across the restaurant, church members began to arrive. Lowell was first to the buffet. He looked pasty and haggard. Frank was next, all hale and energetic, greeting Lowell with a smile and a back slap as if he hadn’t just replaced him as church prelate.

  Pastor Travis and his roommate, Harold, joined them with broad smiles and loud cheery comments about the beauty of the morning and the grace of the Lord. A few women whom Harper hadn’t met got in line, a few men. A sultry redhead. And Peter and Lynne.

  ‘You’re staring,’
Hagit chided.

  Harper turned to her. ‘What of it?’

  ‘You won’t find anything out that way. It’s not what you can see that you need to watch. It’s what you can’t see.’

  Did that make sense? Harper’s gaze returned to Lynne and Peter. Did Peter have any wounds or bruises? Did he look as if he’d been in a fight? She couldn’t tell. But he seemed bedraggled, as if he, too, had been awake all night.

  Lynne must have sensed her gaze. A plateful of food in one hand, coffee cup in another, she turned, saw Harper across the room. ‘Morning,’ she grinned as if nothing were wrong.

  ‘Geet. Down?’ Chloe was finished eating.

  Harper took a last gulp of coffee as Hagit cleaned Chloe’s hands and face and lifted her into the stroller, ready to go to the nursery.

  On the way, they passed scampering dogs. Wandering cats. A boy kicking a soccer ball. And three pairs of guards, youthful and alert, carrying rifles.

  Dr Ben Haim condensed the work area. Harper and Lynne joined others digging close to the find. He believed the wall would have structural counterparts close by. The sun glared even early in the morning; Harper’s overtired head throbbed from the brightness. She put on her sunglasses, and the world took on a golden tint. Even Lynne looked a little bit orange as Harper studied her for signs of stress or concern.

  But Lynne showed signs of neither. She was her talkative self, cheerily chatting about how accustomed she’d become to eating salad with every meal, even breakfast.

  Lynne’s cheeriness irritated Harper. Didn’t Lynne care that her husband had been questioned by police? Wasn’t she even a little concerned about the stabbing? Maybe she was overcompensating, pretending, but even so, Harper couldn’t stand the lilt of Lynne’s voice and called her away. ‘Come help me get more buckets.’

  Lynne glanced at the stack of buckets near the perimeter. ‘I think there are plenty.’

  Harper tilted her head, stared at her until Lynne understood.

  ‘Oh. Yes. More buckets.’ She made her way around the other volunteers and joined Harper. ‘What’s up?’

  Harper didn’t answer right away. She walked toward the supply trailer, waiting until they were a distance from the pit.

  ‘Are you okay, Harper?’

  Was she? ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Then why did you . . .?’

  ‘Lynne, did the police come to your bungalow last night?’

  ‘Oh, that?’ Lynne seemed unconcerned. ‘Yeah, they sure did. They kept us up half the night.’

  ‘Aren’t you worried?’

  Lynne frowned, confused. ‘Should I be?’

  Harper stopped walking. ‘Lynne. A man was stabbed last night. The police thought Peter might have done it . . .’

  ‘I know. Isn’t that crazy?’ Lynne’s eyes widened. She smirked, shaking her head. ‘Peter? Stabbing someone? Peter couldn’t stab a watermelon. He faints when he gets a blood test—’

  ‘But the police must have had reason to talk to him.’ She didn’t mention that she’d given them the reason.

  Lynne looked around, lowered her voice. ‘Look. Apparently, somebody told the cops to look at Peter because Pastor Travis had asked Peter to make a sacrifice for the church.’ She emphasized ‘somebody’ as if she knew it was Harper. Did she?

  ‘And?’ Harper kept her face blank, gave away nothing. ‘Is that true? I mean about the sacrifice?’

  ‘Yes, it’s true. Pastor asked Peter to make an offering, and Peter was honored to accept the responsibility.’

  ‘What kind of offering?’

  Lynne rolled her eyes. ‘Do we really have to go into all this?’

  ‘I’m trying to understand . . .’

  ‘Look. I told you about the Bible code. Pastor says the code tells us to make three sacrifices by the ninth of Av. He put a couple of people in charge of them, and they did two of them, but there were complications. Nobody’s fault, but still. Anyway, last night, pastor assigned the last sacrifice to somebody else. And that was Peter.’

  ‘What kind of sacrifices?’

  ‘What? Oh, just the usual. Throwing a couple of virgins into boiling oil.’ Lynne smiled.

  Harper didn’t.

  ‘Come on. Why are you so serious?’

  Harper watched her for a moment, deciding how much to tell her.

  ‘Harper? You’re looking pretty scary.’

  ‘It’s time we talk.’ Harper found two buckets, turned them over. Sat on one, motioned for Lynne to sit on the other.

  Lynne seemed baffled, a little alarmed. ‘What’s going on?’

  Harper leaned forward, looked Lynne in the eye. ‘Your pastor?’ She didn’t know exactly how to put it. ‘He might not be who he says he is. I think he’s got a criminal past.’

  ‘No way.’ Lynne started to stand, but Harper put a hand on her arm.

  ‘Hear me out. I think his real name isn’t Ramsey Travis; I think it’s Travis Ramsey. Travis Ramsey is an ex-con who murdered his own father.’

  Lynne shook her head.

  ‘And that’s not all, Lynne. I think he’s planning to kill again. In fact, I think he’s planning to kill you.’

  ‘Me?’ Lynne gasped.

  ‘Not just you. All of you. Your whole church group.’

  Lynne crossed her arms and stood. ‘Harper. I don’t know where you’re getting this. But you are way out there. I mean, way, way—’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ Harper looked up at her. ‘But honestly, I don’t think so. Look, Lynne. Travis has been telling you that the ninth of Av will start the battle, bring on the Rapture or whatever—’

  ‘He only tells us what God has written.’

  Harper stood and faced her. ‘Lynne, Travis isn’t the first preacher to lead his followers to destruction. Don’t you see? What’s he going to do when his big battle doesn’t start?’

  ‘But it will.’

  ‘Haven’t you ever heard of Jim Jones? The guy who poisoned all his followers with Kool-Aid? Or the Heaven’s Gate sect? Their leader was a guy named Applewhite, and Applewhite convinced his followers to kill themselves in order to achieve salvation—’

  ‘Harper, stop.’ Lynne put her hands up. ‘That’s got nothing to do with us. You probably mean well, but you’re completely off base. Ramsey Travis isn’t like that. Believe me, I know him.’

  Harper pictured the couple groping on the porch.

  ‘He would never hurt me or any of us. He loves us.’ Lynne smiled warmly. ‘I get it, Harper. Your issues with Travis. Your suspicions. They all come back to the same thing. Faith. You don’t believe.’

  Harper opened her mouth to answer, but Lynne stopped her.

  ‘No. I understand. I told you, at first, I didn’t believe either. I had to be shown. Travis had to translate codes written three thousand years ago, codes that specifically identify events that have taken place now, in our lifetimes. I’ve told you about some. But there are many others, with dates, places – I began to understand that the codes are accurate. They’re for real. And guess what? World War Three is in there, too. It begins here, in Megiddo, on the ninth of Av.’ In the bright sun, Lynne’s blonde hair glowed, looked like a halo.

  Harper didn’t know what to say. Lynne had just said that a worldwide disaster was coming in a couple of days, and she seemed pleased by it.

  ‘Harper, I never knew anything before I met Ramsey Travis. I was all caught up in petty stuff. Problems with Peter. Problems with getting pregnant. Problems with money or gossip or jealousy or ego. Pastor showed me to see beyond all that. He read me God’s word. And he taught me real love.’

  Real love? Again, Harper saw Travis and Lynne on the porch. Obviously, Lynne was infatuated, brainwashed. Still, Harper had to try.

  ‘Lynne. Please. Try to think objectively—’

  ‘Harper. Don’t criticize. You just don’t get it.’

  Harper had encountered true believers before. People completely committed, blindly devoted to a cause or a leader, even willing to kill or die for them.
An Iraqi woman popped to mind, smiling at her before detonating the bomb inside her robe. Harper saw a flash of white, felt the blast, but made a fist, digging her fingernails into her palm, refusing the flashback.

  ‘Please, Lynne. You’re an intelligent person. Can’t you see that you’re being manipulated?’

  Again, Lynne smiled. ‘Peter, chapter three, verses one to eighteen, warns that in the last days, “scoffers will come”. You’re a scoffer, Harper. But the ninth of Av is just a couple of days away. You’ll see . . .’

  ‘What will I see? The Apocalypse? The end of the world? Because, really, if you’re so sure it’s coming, why are you here at the dig? Why bother? Why not eat gobs of fattening food, get drunk, have sex and party for a couple of days?’

  Lynne reached out, put her hand on Harper’s. Her voice was slow and patient, as if talking to a child. ‘I’ve been chosen, Harper. I’m one of the few who’s been blessed enough to do God’s work until the final day.’

  Harper sat watching as Lynne stood. Saying nothing as she began to walk away. How had Lynne fallen under Travis’s control? Was it just sex? Had he drugged or hypnotized her? And what about the others? Peter, for example. Did he know about his wife’s affair? Did he care? Had Travis hypnotized all of them?

  Lynne stopped walking and wheeled around, beaming. ‘Harper, I have an idea. I know you don’t understand, but I can see that you’re trying. It’s not too late.’

  What?

  Lynne ran back to her, grabbed her hands. ‘You can still find out the truth. Will you? Meet with Pastor Travis. Listen to him read the Bible and translate the code. There’s still time. Once you understand, you can join us. You and your baby – you can both be saved.’

  Harper saw the light in Lynne’s eyes, her sincerity. Her pure, unbreakable belief. What would happen to her when the ninth of Av came and went without incident?

  Harper thought for only a moment. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Okay? Really? You’ll do it?’ Lynne jumped up, grinning, laughing. Clapping her hands like a cheerleader. Talking about setting up a meeting with Ramsey Travis.