The REIGN: Out of Tribulation

by Jeffrey McClain Jones

  When the processional began, Rodney craned his neck to catch Steve marching in with the other faculty. His old friend had actually begun to show a bit of gray hair recently, but otherwise had aged no more than Rodney had. His physical appearance had changed since Emma first met him, of course, his weight reaching a normal, healthy hundred-and-sixty pounds, years ago.

  Rodney also spotted the stout form of Dr. Tunney, Joshua’s favorite teacher, one of the immortals who worked in the school. In his mortal life, Dr. Tunney had been a university professor in Kenya, an example of an immortal whose work life correlated across the divide of decades and death.

  As soon as the class entered and took their seats, the school choir set the tone for the event with a stunning surprise. The sixty-voice chorus sang a song from Jerusalem worship, using many of the techniques of the immortals, though much more restrained in their dancing. Rodney tried to judge how much the choir director, an immortal who had lived in Africa during his mortal life, was enhancing the sound of the high school students. Rodney could see him singing along, as he directed with uninhibited joy and energy, but he seemed to blend his voice well with his mortal choir.

  When they reached their crescendo finish, the stadium burst into applause, everyone surging to their feet, shouting and hooting their approval. The director motioned to his choir in response to the ovation and Rodney could see that, unlike the immortals, the high school students panted and sweat visibly after their robust song.

  Each faculty member who spoke from the podium, whether mortal or immortal, impressed the audience with their wisdom and clarity. The economy of the Reign provided everything anyone needed and allowed for only limited wealth accumulation, thus reducing the financial temptations away from the teaching profession. For the immortals, education merited the finest resources, both material and human. They knew the supreme value of the eternal soul better than any human generation before them.

  The most remarkable moment of the ceremony was the keynote speech, delivered by a visiting scholar who had, in his mortal life, been a martyr burned in the streets of Rome, during the cruelest days of the Dictator. The man, no more than five and a half feet tall, recalled the days when the followers of the King suffered and died.

  With firm voice and irresistible conviction, Antonio, the featured speaker, told the graduates, “You have lived but eighteen years, or so, and yet you have experienced what millions throughout the ages longed to see. You might take hold of this great privilege and declare that it is your birthright, the destiny of your generation. But know this, you will be tested based on what you have been taught, you will be judged based on what you have done with the great riches you have been given. You are the first generation of the Reign of God on Earth. Who has been given more than that in all the history of humanity?”

  He stood silent for a moment, the weight of his words visibly settling on the graduates, some of whom wept audibly, all of whom seemed to feel the fire of this warning. Then the great speaker granted a reprieve from their burden.

  “But you must not despair that this is more than you are able to bear,” he assured them. “You have been educated more fully and truthfully than any before you, and you have been granted an open field in front of you, into which you are utterly free to express the image of God that is planted inside you. Do it. Do it well, my young men and women. And the glory of this generation will last to the end of this millennium.”

  Antonio finished, turned and walked back to his seat and sat down, even as the gathered throng all rose to their feet and cheered, clapping and crying all at once. The speaker stood and bowed his head very slightly twice and then sat back down. Anyone listening to a graduation speaker before the war would have counted these words as part of the expected hyperbole of such occasions. This audience, however, knew the immortals to be immune to the temptation to embellish and free from the need to pander to an audience. The grand promise of Antonio’s speech fell on them as if directly from God.

  Rodney caught sight of Joshua standing and wiping his cheeks, as the applause died away. The father was thankful for the reinforcement of his son’s sense of calling, both in the commencement speech and in recalling his story during the van ride. No graduation Rodney attended before or after reached such momentous heights. He couldn’t help feeling that the prophetic promise before Joshua’s birth contributed something to the auspiciousness of this passage into adulthood.

  At the end of that speech, the new principal of the school, Mrs. Washington, rose to present the diplomas. When the first row of students had crossed the stage and returned to their seats, they naturally opened their diplomas to look at them. The parents and other observers began to notice a stir among the graduates, as they showed each other their diplomas with great excitement and wonder.

  Not until Joshua greeted them on the field, ready for photographs, did Rodney discover the source of the distraction over the diplomas. Comparing them to each other’s, the students realized that each was unique, as if each diploma had been created by hand, calligraphy, illumination and content, all provided by the immortals. After the ceremony, Emma and Rodney stared at the intricate pen and brushwork on the parchment paper, struck silent by the magnificence of the document.

  Steve joined the family to congratulate Joshua and to confirm the time for the party at the farm. Emma and Rodney had invited all of the people who had any significant role in Joshua’s life, both mortal and immortal. How many of the latter would attend remained a mystery.

  When everyone who wanted photos of Joshua and the family had finished, including the inevitable picture of Betsy in the mortarboard cap, Rodney fetched the van and drove his wife and children home. The return ride lacked the gravity of that morning’s trip into town. Everyone felt like a celebration and Jamie led the way toward giddy hilarity, taking his turn at wearing the cap and making a speech about when he was small and knew everything there was to know, mimicking the distinguished orator.

  Emma warned Jamie not to be disrespectful, but Joshua defended his little brother, saying “But mimicking is a high form of admiration. At least that’s what they say. Besides, I’m pretty sure Antonio is tough enough to take it from a punk like this,” he said, poking his little brother until he giggled and gasped for air.

  When they reached home, Joshua took off his graduation gown and collected the cap, which had finally made its way to Miranda. He walked slowly toward the house, inhaling the fragrant air, filled with clover and honeysuckle and the scent of freshly tilled earth in the garden.

  “God is so good to us,” he said.

  Rodney wrapped an arm around his eldest son’s shoulder and escorted him into the house. Even the honoree would have to pitch in to get the house ready for the big party.

  Though some of their friends had to bounce from party to party that day, nearly everyone they had invited arrived at the farm over the course of the afternoon and into the evening. Daniel and Tina arrived early to help, the girls taking charge of Betsy so Emma could work. Steve and Marney arrived soon after and then Sara and Pete, Warren and Connie, and Ben Jackson with his wife, Luanne. Some of Joshua’s favorite teachers stopped in for a while, including the immortals, such as Dr. Tunney. In fact, to Rodney, it seemed that all of the immortals who had played an active role in Joshua’s life, arrived at the house; from Hyo and Young to Hubert and Devin, to Lilly who visited the farm frequently during Joshua’s childhood, as well as many others.

  A beautiful Asian woman known as Wendy stopped in to hug Joshua and congratulate him. She brought with her pastries from Jerusalem. Wendy had translated for Joshua’s dog, Ruffy, when the boy was ten years old, since she understood the thoughts of animals.

  Mortimer, an immortal that Joshua first saw soaring over the farm like an eagle, stayed for most of the party. He had taken the eight-year-old Joshua for flights over the area, an activity with which his mother could never make herself completely comfortable.

  Simon, who helped Joshua through middle school and who cou
ld read the thoughts of mortals, arrived toward the end of the party and stayed to the very end, helping to clean up and then talking with Joshua late into the night. Joshua hoped that Simon would help Jamie in the same way he had helped him to cope with changing hormones and changing roles in the world.

  Other immortals known to the family, Barty and Genna, arrived early, having run all the way from Georgia. They preferred high speed running to flight, or other means of transportation. Barty once told explained this to Joshua. “There are a variety of types of enjoyment in running, as with so many other things. Some days I love to go slow enough to see the trees and the fields and to feel the ground with my feet. Other days I love to fly at speeds that give me the feeling that I am merely breathing the countryside in.”

  Rodney had come to understand the immortals as not so alien as he had thought at first. They were human beings, of course, and they had not lost their humanity in becoming immortal. He had come to believe that even their supernatural powers were part of being human.

  He recalled a conversation with Phil, the pastor in Somerville. Rodney was marveling at the abilities of the immortals, both mental and physical. “You can do so much more than us mere humans, you can see why we thought you were from another planet,” Rodney had commented.

  Phil stretched his usual happy expression into a broad grin. “Ah, that is where you make your mistake. You see, Rodney, the powers that you see us displaying are in fact human powers. The way we are today is the way humans were always meant to be.”

  One of the biggest surprises on graduation day, was the arrival of Baxter Slatery, via high-speed train from Pittsburgh, where he served as an advisor to the President. Baxter had himself served as President of the Congress until just two years ago. Rodney clapped his old friend on the back and hugged him hard. They laughed at the shock on Joshua’s face. Joshua had visited Baxter in Pittsburgh when Baxter was President and Rodney was in Congress. He never guessed the former President would attend his graduation party. Emma had known about the visit, but had kept it from the men, as a surprise.

  Late in the evening, Rodney and Baxter sat on the porch sipping beers and rocking.

  “Remember mosquito bites?” Baxter asked.

  “Yeah,” said Rodney. “I used to think mosquitoes were proof that the Devil ruled the world.”

  “I guess you weren’t far off,” said Baxter. “No more Devil, no more mosquito bites.”

  Rodney smiled and nodded slightly. “Is that what they’re telling you in Jerusalem?” he asked. He knew that one of Baxter’s functions as adviser to the President included a role as liaison with Jerusalem.

  “Yeah, that’s what they say. They got the old Devil locked up somewhere, which is a wildly weird idea that I would have laughed at twenty years ago.” He chuckled softly.

  Rodney had some more serious questions to ask. Talking on the phone he seldom raised large questions with Baxter, feeling the need for a face to face discussion regarding the weightier topics.

  “You ever make it all the way to the throne?” he asked Baxter.

  Baxter’s mood tightened a bit. He shook his head. “I feel like I get closer each time, but I never make it all the way,” he confessed. Then he looked at Rodney. “But I can pretty well remember the King coming out to meet me this last time.”

  Rodney’s entire body turned to electric chills. He stared back at his friend. “You saw him and you remember it?”

  Baxter nodded.

  “He talked to you?”

  Baxter nodded again, and then looked back toward the eastern sky and the growing population of stars in front of them.

  “He talked to me, but not about government relations or political issues, which is supposed to be why I’m there. All those times I visited, as President and as the President’s advisor, I felt silly that I never met with anyone. It’s like the whole point was for me to collapse short of the throne just to remember how far superior they are to us,” he mused.

  Rodney looked at Baxter’s profile, dark against the driveway light behind him and the fading sky behind that. He could see a glint in Baxter’s eye, a reflection of the brightest stars. Baxter sipped his beer, then tipped it back to finish.

  Baxter continued. “He talked to me about my life and my marriage and my family. He just told me how much he liked meeting me face to face. And I could hardly make a sound. I didn’t say an intelligible word. And when he was done talking, he patted me on the shoulder and just turned back to the throne. He sort of disappeared in this piercing bright light. I was literally blinded for days after that.”

  “You never told me.”

  Baxter looked at him. “Some things you wanna tell in person.”

  Rodney smiled. “I know what you mean.”

  Baxter looked at Rodney and said, “I discovered something on this last visit.”

  Rodney looked back at his old friend. “What’s that?”

  “You know that glow around the throne that looks like an impenetrable ball of light?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, it’s not impenetrable to the immortals. It’s only us mortals that can’t see through that bright light, let alone walk into it.”

  Clearly impressed, Rodney asked, “How did you learn this?”

  “When I was watching the King come toward me in that light, I could just barely see people floating and flying around in there. I asked one of the immortals about it later. They explained that some of them like to slide over the outer layers of the glory cloud, but others like to pierce into it. As you’d expect, I didn’t get a coherent description of what either of those activities feels like. The old saint just looked at me and grinned mystically when I asked.”

  They sat in silence for a full minute. Inside the house, they could hear laughter, the sort that comes late in a party when the length of the day begins to take its toll. Rodney could hear Emma talking to someone, her familiar tones bubbling out of the mix of voices.

  Opening a new topic, Baxter said, “Land reallocation is starting to make Jerusalem some new enemies.”

  “There’s not so much of that around here,” Rodney said. “But I’ve seen the news and heard about unrest elsewhere. What are you seeing?”

  Baxter shrugged slightly. “Oh, you know some of the corporate execs tried to get things going for a couple of the huge industrial farming operations and they expected access to all of their land leases. They fought it like it was the old days, with long drawn out court battles, but, as nice as the Jerusalem people are, they don’t change their minds, no matter how many ways you ask.”

  Rodney looked at him. “With the King on their side they don’t have to negotiate.”

  “Actually I think that’s just the sort of thing that’s sending some of those former billionaires over the edge,” Baxter said. “It’s not so much the loss of their fortunes, or the loss of business capital, it’s the loss of power and influence. It’s hard to surrender that spot at the top of the hill.”

  Rodney let that settle for a few seconds. “What are they doing about it now?”

  “Same as the other disgruntled folks, heading for the hills, away from the cities, away from the renewal projects, out into the wilderness. I even hear they’re building their own cities out there, north and west,” said Baxter.

  “Who’s telling you about that?” Rodney asked, but then checked himself. “Or is that out of bounds to answer?”

  Baxter chuckled. “Oh it’s not top secret or anything. We used to try to conceal the extent to which we rely on the immortals for intelligence, but, by now, anyone who would get upset about it is already off trying to build their own utopia.” Baxter switched his crossed leg from left to right. “They don’t tell us everything about the rebels, either. And I get the impression that it’s like a confidentiality issue and not a case of them protecting their turf.”

  Rodney made a questioning noise.

  “Well, it’s like they respect the rights of the dissenters to choose their own way. They only tell u
s stuff if they know it’s important for our security, or something.” Late at night, Baxter lost some of the articulate turn of phrase that moved him so far in politics. Talking to Rodney relaxed him, anyway, feeling no pressure to be impressive.

  “It’s their world now,” Rodney said. “We just live here with their permission and can’t get too excited about our claims and rights to things.”

  Baxter nodded, understanding this as a statement of fact and not the protest it would have been from the lips of someone less reconciled with his place in the Reign.

  “We should get back to the party,” Rodney said.

  “I thought this was the party.”

  “My son graduated from high school,” Rodney said. “Can you imagine that?”

  Baxter laughed. Just before Rodney opened the door, he said, “They’re a new generation. It’ll be fascinating to see what they can do with what they know.”

  Rodney hesitated, glanced over his shoulder at Baxter and then turned toward the small crowd still gathered in the living room and dining room. Baxter was staying the night, so he excused himself and headed for his place in the boys’ room. He would take Jamie’s bed and Jamie would sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor.

  After saying good night to Baxter, Rodney started to clean the place up a bit. Emma looked tired. He would encourage her to go to bed soon, but she seemed to be enjoying her talk with Marney and Tina. Tina looked at her two girls, sprawled on the couch, silent for the first time all day. Parents began gathering their children, and the remains of the party drained into the night, leaving Rodney and Miranda cleaning up, as Emma put Betsy to bed and Jamie headed for his sleep. He was excited about surrendering his bed to the former President. Rodney wondered how well he would sleep.

  After Devin left, with hearty congratulations, Simon and Joshua settled down to talk some more. They had been cleaning up, when Rodney and Miranda took over and encouraged them to talk while they had the chance.