The Time of Jacob's Trouble

by Donna VanLiere

  He shakes his head. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not sure if I need to contact child services or if they even exist now, or…”

  “No!” Micah says, cutting her off. “I want to stay with you.” Kennisha enters from the bedroom and sits down next to Micah as his lip begins to quiver. “Can we ever go back and see my dad?”

  “Absolutely,” Emma says, putting an arm around him and looking at Kennisha. “And we want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to fight for you. We’re all part of a team now.” She pulls him closer, then adds, “We’re part of a family. You and me and Brandon and Kennisha and Elliott.”

  A tear leaks from the corner of his eye and she kisses him on the head, letting him grieve.

  Emma eats a few bites of cereal before heading into Brooklyn to check on Thrive. She has to see if there’s any possibility of work. She wonders if there’s any food at 316 Deli and grabs Mrs. Ramos’s bag, putting her own pepper spray into it, then concealing the bag under her jacket. The subway system is still shut down and the line for bus service would require hours of waiting, so she borrows Kennisha’s bicycle, pushing it out of the apartment, down the stairs, and onto the street. She figured it would probably take less than an hour to ride the few miles to Brooklyn. She’s never ridden a bike through the streets of New York and prays she’ll be able to maneuver through traffic, which has become so much worse since everyone was snatched away. Many are leaving the city, which has created total gridlock. Violent mobs have been prowling like dogs, and she prays they won’t notice her.

  Emma’s legs burn and her lungs feel as if they could burst, but she keeps pedaling until she reaches 316 Deli. Her heart sinks when she sees that the windows are broken and the restaurant has been vandalized. Deep down she knew there probably wouldn’t be anything left, hoping against hope that looting hadn’t happened, but in the absence of respect it doesn’t take long for human nature to reveal itself. It seems that the millions of people who disappeared also took laughter and chatter and general kindness along with them.

  She pushes the bike inside the restaurant and discovers that all the food has been taken from the shelves, walk-in refrigerator, and freezer. Sorrow grips at her lungs as she remembers the Ramos family members babbling away with their customers and serving up the food they loved here. The wonderful smells, the sight of the beautiful breads and pastries and desserts, and the sound of customers enjoying good conversation and delicious food won’t be heard here again. She steps between the broken tables and chairs and is unsettled by the sound of shattered glass crunching beneath her feet. She’s so glad that Mrs. Ramos is not here to see this.

  The door to Thrive is locked, a good sign that no one has broken in; Emma uses her key to get inside. The building is mostly dark, with the exception of light pouring in through the front doors. She doesn’t dare leave the bicycle on the street and carries it up the stairs, using the key to open the door to the office. She locks it behind her and steps through the waiting room, calling out to anyone who might be there.

  “Emma! What are you doing here?” Linda says from behind the reception desk, holding one hand to her chest. “You scared me to death!” She moves out from behind the desk, looking spent, her eyes hollowed and dark. “I’m so jumpy. Everything scares me now. How are you?”

  “Hanging on.” Emma looks out over the floor of the rehabilitation room and sees that someone has been here, taking whatever they wanted. “I came to see if there’s any work.”

  Linda shakes her head. “Look at it. The computers are gone. A lot of the equipment is gone. Who would do that? How is any of our equipment useful to some guy off the street?”

  “They didn’t take it because it was useful. They took it because they could.” Emma looks at the files on the reception desk. “What are you doing?”

  “Arlen wanted me to see if there’s any way we can stay open. He was here with me up until a few minutes ago. He doesn’t like to leave his family for too long.”

  Emma looks at the stacks of files. “Any luck?”

  Linda shakes her head. “I can’t make calls. I might know more if I could, but right now it’s impossible.”

  Emma sighs. “It’s doubtful there will ever be work here again, isn’t it?”

  Linda shrugs, her eyes looking frightened. “Maybe on some sort of cash level, but even then, I don’t know how Arlen could get equipment again. He’ll have to file an insurance claim, and I don’t know if our insurance company exists anymore. Everybody could be gone, for all I know. Even if some of them are still around, do they even have records anymore?” Looking over at the spot where Mrs. Ramos had disappeared, Emma feels a tug at her heart, wishing she could be with her mom and dad and Mrs. Ramos today. Linda notices the look on her face and says, “I’m sorry about your mom, Emma.”

  She looks at Linda and tries to smile. “I’m not. I’m sorry that I’m here. My mom’s in heaven along with Carrie and Reggie, Mrs. Ramos, and all the others who disappeared.”

  Linda’s face reveals discomfort over what Emma said. “I’ve heard people say that, but why would you think it’s true?”

  “Because in the Bible, God said it’s true. Jesus called for his followers, just like he said he would.”

  Linda isn’t buying any of this and Emma steps toward her, thinking out loud. “If there’s a big building in your neighborhood, like a church or school, I could bring someone who can explain it all.”

  Linda looks uncertain, but her eyes brighten enough to give Emma hope.

  CHAPTER 35

  Queens, NY

  Hatred for the Jews is no longer isolated to the Middle East; venom for Israel is hurled throughout each news broadcast. Ever since the war began in the Middle East, anti-Semitism has escalated across the world. Jews have been called thieves, murderers, pillagers, barbarians, butchers, invaders, antagonists, dogs, and swine who are stinking up Arab land, creating a growing intolerance for their existence around the globe. Iran, Russia, Turkey, Sudan, and parts of central Asia have mobilized, threatening Israel at every turn and promising complete annihilation.

  As a Jew, Elliott’s life is in danger, but he goes out each day to preach, protected by Christ. He rides his bicycle for miles, shouting as he goes, telling people about the love of Christ, how he received his own followers, and how he will return again. He preaches inside apartment buildings, churches, rescue missions that are housing the homeless, hotel lobbies, bars, on street corners, at food lines, or anywhere there’s a group of people.

  It’s not his own life as a Jew that Elliott is concerned about when he takes his phone and runs up to the roof, praying that the call will go through. It doesn’t. He tries texting and prays that will work, sending a simple message: Are you there?

  His heart races when the screen on his phone fills with words: Yes! It’s Mom. Don’t have long. Can’t let your father know I’m texting u

  Elliott’s heart beats faster. Are u safe at Uncle Harold’s?

  Yes. Are u safe? Getting more dangerous every day. I keep praying the war against Israel will end soon

  Elliott knows he has to tell her as much as possible. This is just the beginning. Russia, Iran, Turkey, and other countries will come to fight against Israel, but Hashem will save Israel

  I pray u r right

  Elliott continues. A man will rise to power who will confirm the peace treaty that Pres Banes made with Israel

  I hope soon

  No. Many in the world will b deceived by this man. He’ll say the right things, but he’s evil. He’s against Hashem. Will kill more people than any man in history. Elliott wants to tell his mother that the Bible calls this man the Antichrist because he’s anti-Christ, against Christ, but she’s not able to hear those words yet. He’ll confirm treaty with Israel. Will seem he’s on Israel’s side but he’ll break the treaty 3 1/2 years later and will set out to kill every Jew on Earth

  Don’t scare me Elliott! U r wrong

  I’m not wrong. Did you read R
evelation 7?

  No

  Brandon opens the door to the roof and Elliott glances up at him, texting: Plz read it. It’s who I am. You’ll understand if u read it. Plz read Daniel, all of Revelation, 2 Thessalonians 2. All are in the Bible

  I don’t have those books! I need to go before ur father knows

  U do have them! On phone or computer. Promise me. Plz promise u’ll read them. I’m your son. Plz

  There is no response, and after several moments, he can only assume that his final text didn’t go through.

  Brandon hasn’t yet seen the devastated city from this view, how it rests grave-like and silent, and it feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He bends over, resting his hands on his knees.

  “You okay?” Elliott asks, placing his hand on Brandon’s back.

  Brandon shakes his head. “I was afraid to see what the city really looked like.” He puts his hands on his head, exhaling. “Keep it together, Brandon. Keep it together,” he tells himself. “What do you do up here?”

  Elliott holds up his phone. “Sometimes I can catch a signal up here. Can you text?”

  “No. My phone died hours after everybody disappeared. I should have bought an extra battery or solar charger years ago. I hope we get power again soon. I haven’t heard anything from my mom since that day.” His face grows solemn. “That day.” He glances over the guts of the city. “Those are our stories now, right? Where were you that day? What happened to the people you love on that day? This is what happened to me on that day.” He shakes his head. “Man, I wish I had been out of here on that day.”

  Elliott touches his shoulder. “You will be out of here. We all will. Very soon.”

  Brandon’s face clouds over. “I want to tell my mom about Jesus. She doesn’t have an Elliott.”

  “There are 144,000 of us out there. There could be an Elliott in Louisville!”

  “I’m praying that there is. I never prayed before, but I’m praying now.” Brandon closes his eyes, letting the wind lap at his face. “For the longest time I felt it, you know?” He looks at Elliott. “I felt like the world was just spinning out of control. Every day the news just screamed it at us, but I couldn’t listen. Didn’t want to listen. I didn’t want to think about it.”

  “Me neither.”

  Brandon lifts the Bible he’s holding in his hand. “I’ve been trying to read the Bible. I’ve never done that before.”

  Elliott smiles. “You haven’t done that before! At least you probably had one in your house growing up.”

  “I don’t know much about it, but last night I was reading in Matthew, about Jesus, you know, the night that he was in the garden. He asked his disciples to pray for him, and three times he found them sleeping. I could see him there, you know? I could see him counting on his friends to pray, but they were so tired that they couldn’t stay awake and they didn’t get it. They didn’t understand what was at stake, what was happening. He had no one to count on. He was all alone there in the garden.” Brandon looks at Elliott, hoping he’s making sense. “All he had was his Father in heaven, and he’s begging God to take the cup away because that cup was his death.” He pauses. “And then Jesus said, ‘Not my will, but yours.’” He looks up to the sky, thinking. “All my life I’ve done what I’ve wanted. You know, my will. I never considered God’s will.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Jesus was in such torment that he sweat drops of blood. His body was saying, ‘No, no, no! Not this!’ But he didn’t do what his flesh wanted, and he said, ‘Not my will, but yours.’ He was alone. He was constantly rejected by people. He was facing crucifixion and still said, ‘Not my will. Yours.’” Brandon rubs his hand over his arm as he continues to think out loud. “For the first time in my life I want to do God’s will, Elliott. I can’t live with myself if I don’t. It might mean that I’m all alone, but I want to do it. I have to do it if I follow him.”

  Elliott smiles. “You won’t be alone.”

  “But I’m afraid.”

  “I think Jesus must have been afraid too. You said yourself he sweat drops of blood.”

  “Then I read this in Matthew,” Brandon says, finishing his thoughts. “Jesus said that whoever wants to be his disciple must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow him.” He smirks at the thought. “Deny myself and take up my cross daily to follow Jesus. I never denied myself anything. Take up my cross? You mean that thing that I’m denying? Those things that I’m denying? That cross? It never happened! Not once.” Brandon pauses for a moment, realizing something for the first time. “If somebody would have told me that I had to deny myself and take up my cross to follow Jesus, I would have said that’s not love. How is that love if I’m denying myself? God doesn’t love me if he wants me to deny myself. If God is love, then he would want me to have what I want!” He looks at Elliott. “Right?”

  “That’s how I saw it.”

  “Before that day, I wouldn’t have understood denying myself or ‘not my will but yours,’” Brandon says, looking out at the rubble that was New York City. “I never understood anything about surrender.” He turns to Elliott. “But I get it now. I don’t know if I said that right. I haven’t been to church in a long time.”

  “You’re in church right now,” Elliott says. His phone buzzes in his hand and he glances down at it.

  Ok I will

  He smiles at the text. His Jewish mother is going to read the Bible.

  CHAPTER 36

  Brooklyn, NY

  Emma carries the bike back down the stairs from Thrive, adjusting Mrs. Ramos’s bag over her shoulder and stands for a moment, thinking. She digs through the bag, pulling out the wallet and opens it, looking at Mrs. Ramos’s driver’s license. She quickly turns her head to check the street signs and jumps on the bicycle, peddling away.

  When she gets to Mrs. Ramos’s address, she looks down at the license again and compares it to the street number above the door. It’s a small brick walk-up with neighboring homes close on each side. Her heart races when she sees that none of the windows have been broken. She doesn’t want to draw attention to herself trying to get inside the front door, so she rides her bike up the driveway to the back of the house, pulling out a set of keys. Emma’s hands shake as she begins to try each key that looks like it would fit this particular doorknob. The third key opens the door, and she can hear her heart in her ears as she pushes the bike inside, then locks the door.

  Along the back hall are pictures of Mrs. Ramos’s children and grandchildren, and Emma picks up a picture of the entire family and stares at Mrs. Ramos. “Please forgive me for coming into your home like this. You were so kind to me that I thought maybe…” She doesn’t finish and considers leaving, but she can’t. Emma and her friends need food and anything else that will help them get through the days ahead.

  She makes her way into the kitchen and opens the cabinets and the pantry door, smiling. There are soup mixes, noodles, canned vegetables, rice, flour, crackers, sugar, peanut butter, jellies, oatmeal, cereals, nuts, a flashlight, and more that Emma can’t see. “Thank you,” she whispers, standing in the middle of the kitchen and looking at all the open cupboards. Her mind spins as she wonders how she can get all this back to Kennisha’s apartment, and she realizes she’ll have to make several trips. She looks for a rolling cart, the kind people often use on the subway to carry groceries or lots of packages, but how could she get it home? There’s no way to attach it to the bicycle. She would be an obvious target for thieves if she pulled a loaded cart on the streets.

  She opens a door that leads out of the kitchen and holds her breath when she hears the voice of a man coming from inside the windowless garage. She listens in the dark as she creeps down the stairs, then realizes she’s hearing some sort of foreign news broadcast. She runs back into the kitchen for the flashlight she found and is relieved to see that it works. Emma hurries back into the garage and sitting on a shelf amidst car oil, garbage bags, gardening spades, and plant fertilizer is a shortwave
radio. She lifts it and guesses she’s probably listening to a man broadcasting from Puerto Rico. She can envision Mr. Ramos tinkering in his garage while listening to news from his beloved country and her eyes get misty, knowing that now she and her friends can hear the news from around the world.

  She turns a knob on the radio and stops when she hears what sounds like the voice of President Banes. “The E10 assures you that we are dialoguing with leaders to bring an end to this war in the Middle East and we are actively involved in ending the wars throughout the world. Over the last few days we have seen unprecedented turmoil around the globe, which has caused us to be interconnected as never before in history. We cannot fight against one another because we are one, and as one, we must reason together to end all conflicts. We must have peace and security, and the only way to achieve this is to see our neighbors as ourselves. The life of our planet depends on each one of us.”

  Reporters begin to shout out questions, but Emma turns off the radio; there’s no time to listen, and what she heard makes her feel sick to her stomach. The death toll in New York City alone proves that the world is not one, and “peace and security” is nothing more than a hollow soundbite.

  She shines the light in front of her and her eyes widen at the sight of a car. It’s obviously old with much wear and tear and lots of miles, but she yanks open the driver’s door, sliding behind the wheel. She fingers the keys on Mrs. Ramos’s keychain again and grabs the one that’s marked Ford. She puts it in the ignition and turns it; the sound of the engine almost makes her cry. She shines the flashlight onto the gas gauge and the tank is almost full. Through the front windshield she notices garage shelves that are packed with huge bags of flour, sugar, salt, lard, rice, dried beans, cornmeal, and noodles. The Ramos family must have stored some of the food for the deli here. Emma turns off the car, stunned by all she’s discovered. Then she starts laughing. She has an audacious idea and runs back into the house and up the stairs.