The REIGN: Out of Tribulation

by Jeffrey McClain Jones

  For Rodney, this was the first time he had spoken directly with Mitch since that day two years ago. The threat of war gone, so was the bravado of resistance. Now Mitch’s boss lay in his bathroom, his life bled away.

  Leading Mitch into the bedroom, Rodney nodded toward the bathroom. They stood there staring for a second, when Phil came walking down the hallway.

  Rodney, deeply mired in the grief of the moment, spoke boldly to Phil. “Can’t you do something about this? Can’t you bring him back?”

  Phil looked at all of the men standing around the room; he turned and looked at Jason, lying in the bathroom. A mere mortal would have felt the pressure of desperation directed toward him from the six stunned men. Phil looked carefully at each one of them and answered without apology.

  “You are all mortal. You can choose to die. You have that right. If you choose to leave this world, you will not be forced to return to it. We must afford Jason this last freedom.”

  The absoluteness of Phil’s refusal irked Rodney, who had become accustomed to rescue, and even redemption, from the immortals. His nerves gave in to an emotional detonation.

  “But what if he wasn’t competent to make that choice? What if he made that choice without understanding the consequences?” His tone was hard as steel and not waning. “C’mon, you people are supposed to be all about grace and mercy; well this is no time to pull out some unbreakable rule.”

  Phil nodded, but the grim look on his face prevented any of them from hoping that Rodney had persuaded him to change the situation. “I understand your frustration, Rodney,” he said in a firm and calm voice. “I don’t expect you to agree with this decision, or to feel good about it. Just like Jason, you are given opportunities to see the truth, to acknowledge the one who is King. What you do with those opportunities is up to you.”

  Phil turned toward Jason’s body, then looked at Rodney. “I don’t expect you to agree with our assessment, because you don’t have access to all of the facts. He had his opportunities. This, ultimately, is what he chose to do with them.”

  Rodney shook his head. The other five men there had not spent as much time with the immortals as he had. They were each clenched up inside, fearful of what Phil might do and fearful of what Rodney may have already violated. Rodney could sense this tension among the others and realized his obligation to them. Instead of venting more, he reached up and patted Phil on the shoulder.

  “Well, thanks for coming, anyway. It’s not an easy message to deliver,” he said solemnly, the fight gone out of his voice.

  Phil turned toward Rodney, gripped his left shoulder and said, “Is there anything more that you need from me? I will do the funeral if the family wants me. Someone has to talk to Renee.” Here he looked at Mitch and the Lieutenant knew it was his responsibility.

  Pete returned down the hallway, greeted Mitch in a subdued voice and nodded to Phil. To Rodney he said, “Do we fill out some kind of paperwork for this?”

  “I need to get back home,” Rodney said. “I think you have as much authority to sign as I do, but I’ll sign with you, if you want. I’m sure there are forms at the old Sheriff’s office.”

  Pete nodded. “We gotta get elections setup for the fall,” he said, as a relevant aside.

  Rodney agreed.

  Mitch took over the process of removing the body. Phil walked out of the house with Pete and Rodney. On the front porch, they paused. Rodney watched a crow land in a maple tree across the street, looking at the three men from its new perch.

  “You have any more questions about what this means?” Phil asked.

  Pete looked at Rodney, wondering what his friend had already asked. He certainly had questions. Rodney looked at Pete, offering a facial cue to go ahead and ask.

  Pete turned to Phil. “My main question is how far are you willing to go to save a mortal’s life? Clearly raising the dead isn’t included.”

  Phil pursed his lips. “Actually raising the dead can be included, as long as the deceased did not choose that death for himself.” He looked at both of the men standing with him there in the warm summer afternoon. “We are in the process of making this Earth like it is in Heaven,” he said. “The mortals offer the biggest challenge to getting that job done.” He smiled slightly at both of them.

  “I guess that hasn’t changed,” Rodney said.

  Phil breathed a small laugh. “Yep, you’re right about that.”

  They stood there for another moment, distracted by the sound of a passing freight train in the distance.

  “You have trains in heaven?” Pete challenged, tongue in cheek.

  “No trains. And no mortals,” Phil said.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re making concessions for our sakes, even if not all the concessions I might want,” Rodney said.

  Phil smiled at him again and patted him on the shoulder; he stepped off the porch and led the other two down the sidewalk to the driveway and toward their vehicles.

  “You have a good honeymoon?” Phil asked Rodney.

  “Beautiful,” he said.

  “Hell of a way to end it.” Phil’s voice hummed with sympathy.

  “Hell?” Pete asked, a bit confused about the preacher’s use of that word.

  “Hell,” Rodney said, certain that it was the perfect description of where he had just been.

  Phil walked down the sidewalk toward the church, no blast off, no disappearing act. He seemed to be intentionally taking his time and thinking.

  Rodney patted Pete on the back and asked, “We meeting tomorrow with Will and Sara?”

  “Yep,” Pete said. “Local elections gotta be top of the agenda.”

  Rodney nodded his agreement and then headed for his car. Pete checked out the crow in the maple tree again, it seemed to nod at him as if acknowledging his attention. Pete just shook his head.

  Rodney drove back to the farm, full of thoughts about Jason and Phil, and death. He wandered into thinking about God and prayer, wondering whether it was too late for him to start.

  “Well, God, maybe I should give this a try, huh?” he said, much in the same way he would talk to himself when working alone. Even as the words escaped his lips, he knew this was different from talking to himself. He shuddered, as a chill raced up his spine.

  That night, after supper, Rodney asked Daniel to go for a walk with him. Surprised by the offer, Daniel gladly accepted. When they told Emma what they were doing, she smiled and said nothing, as if too overjoyed to feel safe about what she would say. On the front porch, Socks and Sally met them and joined in the walk. Daniel had named Socks’ companion Sally, “Just for the heck of it.” The two coyotes understood the desire to prowl one’s territory just before dark, even though they had surrendered the ancient urge to pounce on the rabbits and mice that would be active at that time.

  As they hit an agreeable pace on the county road, at the end of the drive, Rodney said, “So how’s it going with you and Tina?”

  Daniel, running a finger down Socks’ back as he walked, said, “Good. We’re mostly good friends. I think we both know it’s early for getting too serious.” He had already said these words to his mother, testing the notion out. Now he said it with more conviction.

  “That sounds wise. She’s a bit older, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she’s about a year older than me. Be we both decided that we’re all a lot older than our years, because of what we’ve gone through. And when you get older, one year doesn’t make that much difference.”

  Rodney laughed. “I was going to offer advice, but maybe I should be asking you for help.”

  Daniel looked at Rodney to read how much he was kidding. “I’d be glad for advice. I’m sure there’s plenty I could use help with.”

  They talked for a while about boys and girls and touching and setting limits, not getting too specific, given the newness of the topic between them. Deep in this discussion, they suddenly both stopped dead still.

  A skunk stepped out onto the road and turned to look at the two coyo
tes. The two predators both loped right up to the skunk. Daniel shouted. “Socks, no!” He took a step forward. Rodney grabbed him, thinking distance would be a good thing if a battle were in the offing. Then they both stood where they were, as the coyotes and the skunk exchanged gentle sniffs. Socks licked the skunk behind the ears and Sally just looked on curiously, as if the little black and white animal were amusing to her.

  “Oh my...” Daniel said, under his breath.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Rodney said softly. “I’ll need a witness if I ever tell this story.”

  The skunk gave a quick lick back to Socks, then a little harmless kick with its hind legs, trotting off into the Queen Anne’s lace and goldenrods on the side of the road.

  “Man,” said Rodney. He shook his head and they began walking again, this time in silence. “As many strange things as I’ve seen this year, I still don’t grasp how much things really have changed.”

  “I know. It’s like I realize that everything’s really different, but I don’t want to let myself go all the way to the logical conclusions of that.”

  “I tried to pray today,” Rodney said impulsively.

  Daniel looked at him and then kept walking. He thought about it as they neared an abandoned farm; the barn nearest the road had faded to a pinkish gray color, almost invisible in the twilight.

  “I hadn’t thought about it until now,” Daniel finally said. “But I think I should do that too. I mean, we pretty much know that all the Bible stuff turned out to be true, so it makes sense that we should believe in God and prayer and stuff.”

  “Somehow I expect it will be a lot easier now, with Jesus back on the Earth and all these immortals around to remind us about that,” Rodney said.

  “Yeah.” The silence that followed testified to the long mental path Daniel found there.

  When they turned back toward home, they saw two white streaks stretch across the deepening blue sky, highlighted by the setting sun. An occasional jet left a vapor trail over the farm, but that was more gradual, as the tiny dot of an airplane played out puffs of white in a continuous line. These streaks, on the other hand, appeared as fast as if one were simply holding up a finger and drawing a white line casually above him.

  “Show offs,” Rodney said.

  Daniel laughed. “I am definitely jealous.”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m thinking there’s some kind of miracle involved in them doing that without making a sonic boom,” Rodney said, after a few seconds of silence.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Daniel said. “But you must be right. That has to be faster than the speed of sound.”

  When they arrived back at their driveway, Betty Cochran was just driving down it, toward the county road. She stopped to talk to Rodney.

  “I brought by your coins, and some chickens, to pay you guys for the work on my house. These chickens like to lay in the barn and don’t wander off into the woods. Makes it easier to find the eggs,” she said.

  “Sounds valuable,” Rodney said. “Ben finish up today?” H was feeling a bit out of touch with his team.

  “Yes, Sir. He did a great job of cleaning up the last bits and pieces so the painters can get started. It looks grand.”

  Rodney couldn’t ignore the transformation in Betty, her high voltage personality settled into a happy and satisfied grace.

  He just smiled at her, keeping his thoughts to himself.

  Betty saw that smile. “Well, you keep that charming smile for Emma, I’m too old for you, young man.”

  Rodney laughed. “Have a good night, Betty. Thanks for the work,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said. “God bless you all.” She accelerated onto the county road.

  Rodney waved and thought about that line. “God bless you all.” Betty never would have said that last year.

  As they walked up the driveway, he said to Daniel, “If Betty starts saying ‘God bless you,’ then the rest of us have no excuse for not praying.”

  “I think Lilly converted her,” Daniel said, having seen more of the two of them together than Rodney had.

  Emma met them on the porch. She gestured toward a small flock of chickens around the open barn door. “Not quite so intimidating as a two-ton bull,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind my accepting them, she was so set on us having ‘em.”

  “I don’t mind at all. But you’re the farm wife, you’re the one who has to take care of ‘em,” Rodney said, wrapping his arms playfully around her and pecking her on the cheek.

  In bed that night, Rodney told Emma about his attempted prayer. She turned and looked at him.

  “Wow,” she said sincerely.

  “Wow?” Rodney asked.

  “Yeah, I was praying this week, and I thought God told me that you would start praying soon too.”

  “Wow,” said Rodney, another one of those chills covering his back.

  “See?” Emma said.

  “Yeah.” He wrapped an arm around her. They both thought silently for a minute and then fell asleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Emma and Daniel did not attend Jason Cooper’s funeral. Rodney, however, felt obligated, though he dreaded seeing Renee and perhaps some of the other distraught parents of missing children. Phil spoke compassionately, and very personally, about the pain and loss of Jason’s death. Rodney caught glimpses of Renee staring, open-mouthed, as she listened to words that seemed to pierce her heart. That she allowed Phil to do the funeral testified of her debilitating grief. Phil, after all, represented the very people who stole away her children and brainwashed them. As he spoke, Phil now brainwashed Renee, cleansing her mind, at least for that afternoon, of terrors and anguish beyond her ability to express them.

  After the burial, Rodney drove over to Steve’s new place, a white A-frame with gray-blue trim and a pink stepping-stone walkway. The real estate came at a good price, essentially free, so it didn’t matter that the little house looked too cute and conventional to imagine Rodney’s iconoclastic friend living there.

  Steve greeted him at the door, wearing shorts and a t-shirt and looking creased and drowsy. “C’mon in. Sorry about the way I’m dressed, I slept late,” he said.

  Rodney chuckled. Steve was never a morning person. “How ya’ gonna teach high school if you can’t get up in the morning?”

  “I thought you’d come over and get me outta bed, like when we were in school,” Steve said, a wry grin on his lips, as he ran his hand through his matted hair.

  “Yeah, which was the only reason you didn’t get more dates back then, you always showed up looking like I found you on a park bench on the way to school.” Rodney stopped in the small living room, noticing a woman’s sweater over the back of the black, leather couch.

  “Did the furniture come with this place?” Rodney asked, checking out the lava lamps and an empty fish tank.

  “Yeah, pretty much all ready to move in, just had to pay some realtor fees to have the papers transferred. This is one of the places they know for sure is not owned by anyone living or mortal,” Steve said.

  Rodney sat down on the couch, careful not to knock the sweater over the back. Steve noticed it there, but decided not to say anything.

  “You just woke up?” Rodney asked, avoiding the issue raised by the sweater.

  “Actually, I woke up at least an hour ago,” Steve said, looking now at Rodney with clearer eyes. He decided to take a chance, “I’ve been starting each day with some time talking to God. I hate to call it praying, ‘cause that sounds religious. I’ve been trying to have these conversations, now that I finally figured out that God is real.”

  Rodney stared at him a moment, but not for the reason Steve assumed. Steve sat down in a swoopy shaped, black and white hounds tooth chair. He looked like he was about to defend himself, when Rodney spoke up.

  “That’s amazing,” Rodney said. “Emma and I were just talking about praying last night.” He told Steve the story of his attempted prayer and Emma’s response the night be
fore.

  This time it was Steve’s turn to stare in shocked disbelief. “I wasn’t sure you’d take me seriously when I told you. You know I’ve tried a lot of different things, but this has got to be different, way more real than all the gurus and self-help stuff from before.”

  Rodney nodded vigorously, anxious to affirm Steve’s new direction and hoping for some help along that same path. Having gone that far, however, neither of them knew what to say next, allowing silence to settle in for nearly half a minute.

  Something occurred to Rodney in that silence. “Have you talked to Phil? Or maybe there’s another one of the immortals that can help get us going.”

  Steve nodded. “Marney’s been meeting with this woman that came to town last month. She’s this sort of super nun or something, totally devoted to serving God and teaching people about communicating with God,” Steve explained. “She’s way out there, but it’s hard to write her off, since she was burned to death for her faith by the Dictator, over in France, a few years ago.”

  Rodney laughed. “Yeah, that’s some pretty impressive qualifications.”

  Steve smiled. “I really want to start out fresh, not just reacting to the religion we grew up with, or trying to live up to some kind of social standards. And the immortals seem anxious for us to try,” Steve said, his enthusiasm leaking. “It’s like we need to overcome our tendency to just go halfway. Everything is totally and irreversibly changed, not just a little bit modified.”

  That reminded Rodney of his conversation with Daniel the night before and he nodded his agreement, even as he tried to reach for what that truth would mean for him. “So what are you doing with these conversation times each day, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Steve shrugged a bit, pulled one leg up under the other on the chair and looked squarely at Rodney. There could be no shame between them, he decided. “I just make sure I’m awake enough to have a conversation, like you and me now. So I sit up and get some water to drink, or some coffee, and I act like I’m having a conversation with another person in the room. I talk out loud the whole time, it helps me stay focused,” he said. “And, when I’ve said my bit, I listen to what God has to say.” He looked at Rodney to judge whether his friend needed more of an explanation.