Call Me Joe

by Martin Van Es

  “The Chinese? They want harmony. That is what they have always believed in. That is the word they virtually worship. All that ‘yin and yang’ stuff. They want to create a harmonious society and they believe that the best way to do that is to make everyone think the same way and behave the same way. It’s true, of course, that if an entire nation is pulling in the same direction – especially a nation as big as China – then you can create great things. But if you believe in the rights of the individual and the need for people to be free to follow their own paths in life, as Yung and Liang do, then it is not a comfortable place to live. What they have achieved in the last few decades is astonishing, but some of my colleagues here would say it has been at a terrible price for the environment and human rights…”

  “You don’t agree?”

  “Well…” Lalit thought for a moment. “Most of the people in mainland China are happy to embrace their leaders, as often happens under dictatorial regimes. This is partly because of the very low levels of trust that the people have in their local leaders, who are often corrupt. This trust, however, will only last as long as the people continue to feel the benefits of strong economic growth – and that sort of growth always comes at a price.”

  His flow was interrupted by Hugo and Sophie joining them in the Jacuzzi.

  “It was Joe who made the sun go out,” Hugo announced once he was submerged up to his chin in bubbles. “And his videos have gone viral.”

  “Is that right?” Lalit raised a well-groomed eyebrow.

  “Apparently so,” Joe said. “Hugo is my adviser in such matters as the internet and smartphones.”

  “It is my belief that Hugo is going to grow up to change the world,” Lalit said. “I will certainly be backing any ideas he has.”

  “Oh, I agree,” Sophie said. Her encouraging smile was lost on Hugo who had taken his glasses off before throwing himself into the pool.

  Dinner that evening was presented on a long buffet table covered in a variety of dishes. Small tables were set up around the main hall so that people could choose who they sat with. Sophie and Joe found themselves at a table with Lalit and Simon Dalton, the human rights lawyer who had just been in Beijing, trying to locate Liang’s whereabouts, and Lalit’s daughter, a student called Alice who happened to be travelling around New Zealand at the time the meeting was arranged and jumped at the chance to enjoy a few days of luxury, with the added hope of spending some time with her father.

  Simon rose slightly from his chair as they joined the table, shaking them by the hand and nodding a greeting. He was not a man who indulged in unnecessary small talk and he was obviously wary of these two newcomers. The others had glasses of wine and plates filled with selections of delicacies in front of them but Simon was drinking from a tumbler of water and eating a large bowl of minestrone.

  Hugo had lost interest in adult company and had found a young girl called Shani, the daughter of Salma, who also joined their table. Simon obviously had no interest in engaging in conversation with the children. However much he might adore his own grandchildren, the charms of other people’s children entirely passed him by.

  Lalit made the introductions as Salma sat down. “This is Sophie, who is Hugo’s teacher and an educationalist like yourself, Salma. This is Joe, who performs miracles.”

  “Do you indeed, Joe?” Salma said, nodding a greeting to Sophie, who suddenly realised that she was sharing a table with a woman she had read a great deal about. Salma had made it her mission to educate every girl in the world to the same standard as the most educated boys. Being from Egypt she had met with great resistance in many of the more traditional Middle Eastern countries but had refused to be discouraged, even by death threats. So far she had set up schools in virtually every country where a proportion of the population was either too poor or too discriminated against to be able to get any other sort of education. Sophie had a feeling that she had read somewhere that Lalit was one of Salma’s most generous financial backers.

  “He does indeed,” Lalit laughed, “according to Hugo. And if only we were allowed access to our phones we could watch the videos.”

  Salma took a mouthful of food and stared thoughtfully at Joe as she chewed. “Ah,” she said eventually, “you are that man. I believe I have been shown the videos. You healed some people in a shopping mall somewhere around here, am I right?”

  “I helped them, yes,” Joe said, raising an eyebrow at Lalit.

  Lalit laughed. “That is what he told me his profession was, Salma, when I asked him. ‘I help people’, was all he said. The man is an enigma!”

  “You are a healer?” Salma asked, ignoring Lalit.

  Sophie was bursting to announce that Joe was claiming to be the Son of God, but even as she ran the thought through her mind she realised how foolish it would make her sound, so she remained quiet. No doubt they would find out soon enough, when Joe was ready to reveal himself. Under the table Joe pressed her hand, as if he knew how much she wanted to blurt out the full story. The warmth and strength of his palm encasing her small hand made her fearful for a moment that she might faint from a surge of pleasure the like of which she had never experienced before. All she could think of was that in a few hours they would be sharing a bed in the most beautiful room she had ever seen.

  “Hugo also informed me that Joe was responsible for turning the sun out the other day,” Lalit said. Sophie could tell that he didn’t believe any of it and was subtly trying to expose Joe as some sort of charlatan. Her instinct was to speak up in Joe’s defence but still she resisted the temptation, knowing that he was perfectly capable of looking after himself and unsure how much he wanted to share with this group of people.

  “Is that right?” Simon finally joined the conversation, assuming Lalit was joking. “Well I wish you hadn’t because it meant I was stuck at Hong Kong Airport for a couple of very uncomfortable hours while they decided whether it was safe to resume flying.”

  “My apologies,” Joe grinned and there was no way for any of them to tell if he was teasing them or not. “I did not fully think through the consequences.”

  Simon looked at him hard, as if trying to see inside his head and work out if he was a fraud of some sort, while several of the others laughed, assuming it was no more than dinner-table banter. Simon was beginning to think that he might like this young man, although it was too early for him to commit himself.

  Once the evening was over and Sophie and Joe were back in the blue room, they opened the curtains so that they would be able to wake up the next morning to the spectacular view. Sophie followed Joe’s lead and tried to make it seem like the most natural thing in the world that they should undress in front of one another and then climb into the same bed. He lay on his side and she could smell his sweet breath on her face. She wanted to kiss him but didn’t know how to start without risking rejection or demonstrating that she had misunderstood whatever was going on between them. She had never before been in the position of being in bed with someone and wanting them so much it physically hurt. Joe let out a satisfied sigh, as if preparing himself for sleep, and put his arm around her, holding her close. She wished that her body would soften and she could just melt into him, but instead she felt herself become rigid with doubt and indecision, staring at the outline of the mountains against the starlit sky as she sensed him slipping into a deep, peaceful sleep beside her.

  She remained tense throughout the night, which probably contributed to the overwhelming urge she felt in the morning to burst into tears. Joe appeared not to notice that anything was wrong as she climbed out of the bed and headed for the door.

  “I’m going for a swim,” she said, grabbing her costume on the way. “I’ll meet you for breakfast.”

  He opened his mouth to say that he would like to swim too but she had already left the room, desperate to be out of his sight before he noticed her tears.

  Simon Dal
ton was leaving the pool as Sophie came in and gave a curt nod of greeting.

  “Good morning,” he said.

  “Good morning,” she replied, unsure what to say next. “Are you going to breakfast?”

  “I plan to take a short walk before breakfast,” he informed her matter-of-factly. “The scenery out there really is spectacular and I fear we are going to be stuck inside a great deal in the coming days.” He gave another nod and walked briskly on without a backward glance.

  Sophie watched him for a moment and wondered how old he was. His manner suggested he might be over sixty but he was obviously in peak physical condition. She guessed that must have something to do with the fact that he swam and walked before breakfast and ate and drank only soup and water at dinner, even when presented with an unending choice of delicacies.

  Dr Amelia Muloni was already doing lengths in the pool when Sophie got there. She was obviously a powerful swimmer. Sophie dived in quickly, hoping that the doctor had not had time to see the redness of her eyes, and ploughed up and down the lengths in another lane. A few minutes later they arrived at the shallow end of the pool at the same time and the doctor paused, lifting up her goggles.

  “Are you all right, child?” she asked.

  Sophie nodded silently, not trusting her voice to stay steady. Amelia was not fooled for a moment. Opening her arms wide she folded Sophie in against her and held her tightly until the sobbing had died away.

  “You poor, sweet child,” Amelia crooned. “Is it a man that is causing you this grief? Is it that glorious-looking man you arrived with?”

  “He is glorious looking, isn’t he?” Sophie sniffled.

  “He is indeed, my child, but so are you, and there is no glory to be gained from making a lovely young girl cry.”

  Sophie laughed, her store of tears temporarily spent and Amelia joined her with a deep, throaty chuckle.

  “That’s better, child,” she said. “No man is worth your tears. Has he hurt you physically?”

  “Oh no,” Sophie said, shocked by the very thought. “He is the sweetest, gentlest creature that ever lived. This is not his fault. He has no idea how I feel about him. We are not in a relationship, we are just friends. I only just met him. It’s difficult to explain.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything, girl, not unless you want to. But you need to work on your self-esteem. Have you any idea how beautiful you are? Just look at yourself.” Amelia gestured down at Sophie’s figure. “Damn, I wish I looked like that in a swimming costume.”

  Sophie laughed again. “Thank you.”

  “I’ve done enough of this exercising for today,” Amelia said, pulling herself out of the pool in one fluid movement. “I’m going to look for some breakfast. You up for that?”

  “Yes, I believe I am,” Sophie said, taking a towelling dressing gown from the doctor’s outstretched hand. She could completely understand why Hugo was so fond of her.

  Joe had reached the breakfast buffet while Sophie was still in the pool and was aware that he was receiving even more curious looks than had come his way the previous evening.

  “Word has spread,” Lalit said, joining him at the buffet table, “and everyone has had time to check out your miracles online.” Joe glanced back at the room and saw that everyone was now staring at the two of them, as if trying to read their lips. “You seem to have caught everyone’s imagination.”

  “I thought electronic devices weren’t allowed in the house.”

  “Yung has hers because she gets them swept every few hours, the rest of us have to get ours from security and go outside, like secret cigarette smokers. You should have seen us all huddled against the side of the mountain late last night, watching you raising the dead.”

  “Not sure I went quite that far…”

  “Well, whatever you did had much the same impact.”

  “I see.” Joe chuckled at the image of these global intellectuals all staring at their phones, watching the goings-on in a shopping mall.

  “Hugo is now telling everyone that you are claiming responsibility for turning the sun out, and that you initially told him and his friends that your name was Jesus.”

  “And how does everyone feel about that?”

  “Well Haki nearly fainted in ecstasy, as you can imagine. The scientists don’t want to believe it, obviously, because otherwise they are going to have to re-think everything that they have believed throughout their adult lives. Big brains don’t always lead to the most open minds, you know. There were some very heated words exchanged last night after you had retired to bed.”

  “And you? What do you think?”

  “Me?” Lalit took a bite of a croissant and chewed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, but I look forward to seeing what you are going to do next.”

  Eighteen

  “We cannot remain locked inside this building for the whole week,” Yung announced to the entire house party after breakfast, “so we have arranged for transport to take us for a late-night adventure to a very special place tonight. It is called the Church of the Good Shepherd on Lake Tekapo. Whatever our religious views might be, we will all benefit from a little spiritual time out. During the day the church has some of the most spectacular views on the planet, but it also becomes very crowded with tourists, so we have decided to wait until they have left. The sky is forecast to be clear tonight and so our view will take us beyond the immediate scenery and out to the stars.”

  At the mention of the words “religious views” everyone looked in Joe’s direction again, but he appeared not to notice, sipping contentedly on his coffee while waiting for Hugo to make a move on the chessboard that stood between them.

  The Twelve spent the day locked into their meeting in the room with the picture window, while Joe and Sophie and the other guests entertained themselves around the pool or strolled outside, under the watchful eyes of the guards. The extended group was already starting to bond as if they were the last people left on Earth. Several of them had noticed that when they were with Joe they were able to talk in their local native tongues without even thinking about it and he would be able to answer fluently. It was the first time Haki had ever met someone outside Rwanda who was able to speak Kinyarwanda and just hearing the language of his childhood so far from the jungle village made him weep with a mixture of pleasure and pain.

  Changing languages to fit the ear of whoever was listening seemed so natural to Joe that some of the others didn’t immediately notice that they had moved away from English when they were with him. Once they had realised, and had heard him doing the same in other languages with other members of the group, they began to feel even more strongly that this was not an ordinary man who was now moving amongst them. They could not, however, quite work out what he was or why he filled them with such illogical feelings of awe, way beyond any logical admiration for his skills with languages and his ability to heal.

  During supper, an air of excitement built up as they prepared for their outing, like children being allowed out of school for a special treat. On the courtyard at the front of the house a fleet of electric limousines was lined up in the spotlights, ready to receive the party as they made their way obediently outside. Their progress was discreetly overseen by a number of people wearing earpieces and talking into radios. Each car had a driver who looked more like a soldier than a chauffeur and there were two Range Rovers which contained more security staff, one to ride at the front of the caravan of vehicles and one at the back.

  “If going to church had always been this much of an adventure I might have gone a bit more often,” Sophie whispered to Amelia as the two of them were ushered towards one of the cars with Joe and Amelia’s elderly husband, Pius.

  “Going to the house of the Lord is always an adventure,” Pius said, having overheard the comment, and for the first time Sophie noticed he was wearing a clerical collar.
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  “This is my husband, Pius,” Amelia chuckled. “He is a bishop back home in Uganda. He has been hiding himself away in our room today, resting after our journey here.”

  In deference to the Bishop’s age Joe and Sophie stood back as he was ushered into the front seat beside the driver.

  “Pius, dear,” Amelia said once they were seated, “this is my young friend, Sophie. We swam together before breakfast. And this is her young man, Joe, who everyone has been talking about.”

  The Bishop twisted uncomfortably in his seat and shook both of them solemnly by the hand.

  “I believe my wife has taken a shine to you, young lady,” he told Sophie, before nodding curtly to Joe. “And I shall be interested to hear your views, young man, on the things that some of the people here are saying about you.”

  “I’m not sure I have any views on what other people say about me,” Joe laughed, “but it will be an honour to hear what you think.”

  “What I am wondering,” the Bishop said in the same sing-song voice he used for his sermons, “is whether you fully understand the meaning of words such as ‘blasphemy’ and ‘sacrilege’?”

  “Pius, dear,” his wife admonished him and gave the back of his seat a sharp smack. “I trust you are not going to get on your high horse all the way to this lovely place.”

  “Your husband has nothing to worry about,” Joe assured her. “I am fully conversant with all the words of the English language. Hopefully by the end of the day he will have found faith.”

  Despite the stiffness in his old neck, the Bishop turned again in his seat and stared hard at Joe. “By the end of the day?” he said, but Joe was already staring out of the window at the mountains silhouetted against the night sky.

  “Men!” Amelia murmured under her breath, squeezing Sophie’s hand reassuringly. “They just can’t leave anything be, can they? Tell me more about your school, my dear. Yung tells me that you are a wonderful teacher and Salma was singing the praises of the school and your headmaster.”