Mission

by Patrick Tilley

  I bit back a smile. ‘Funny you should ask. I’ve been curious about that too. The answer is – not to my knowledge. Maybe he does all that back in first-century Jerusalem. Or waits till he’s outside what we laughingly refer to as the space-time continuum. Or maybe he doesn’t go at all.’

  Fowler sighed patiently. ‘Leo, I’m not going to get into whether this guy is Jesus Christ or not. That’s your problem. But he sure as hell is something special. What concerns me is that he has a body which some absolutely unique blood has come out of, and which food and drink has gone into. Don’t try and tell me it doesn’t go anywhere.’

  I humped the basket back in through the kitchen door. ‘I’m not trying to tell you anything, Jeff. If it really worries you why don’t you ask him?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ said Fowler.

  I built up the fire, Miriam fixed everybody up with a drink, and we rounded things off with a warm, cracker-barrel kind of an evening. The Man had a genius for blending in but underneath the relaxed manner there remained that central core of gentle incorruptibility. Some people only smile with the teeth, leaving their eyes on ice. The Man smiled with both, but his gaze always had the same alarming directness. It seemed to reach right into you, giving you no place to hide, and left you with the feeling that he could spot a phoney at a thousand yards.

  Just after eleven, I noticed his attention wander. He seemed to be listening to an inner voice; the way animals react to sounds that we cannot hear. He uncrossed his legs and got up from the sofa. ‘I have to leave but, please, don’t let me break up the party.’

  We got to our feet. He said goodbye to us all in turn, leaving me till last.

  ‘Can I give you a lift somewhere?’ asked Kovacs.

  The Man smiled. ‘It’s good of you to ask but I’ve got my own transportation.’ He brought Miriam’s hands together and gave them a fatherly kiss. ‘Shalom …’

  Finally, it was my turn to grasp his hand. ‘I’ll probably fly out to Israel on Tuesday or Wednesday.’

  He patted my shoulder. ‘Okay, I’ll meet you there.’

  ‘Don’t forget we still have a date at the hospital,’ said Miriam.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I haven’t forgotten.’ He stepped away from us and raised his hands in a gesture that was both a blessing and a goodbye wave rolled into one. ‘Love one another.’

  And suddenly he was gone. Miriam and I were merely startled but his disappearance left the others gasping.

  ‘Now that,’ said Fowler, recovering his voice, ‘is absolutely fucking fantastic.’

  What you might call an over-vigorous understatement.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ said McDonald.

  ‘It’s impossible,’ said Kovacs.

  ‘Oh, my God,’ said Linda, her eyes filling with tears. ‘It really was him. It really was.’

  Carol stared at the empty space The Man had occupied and blinked hard several times to clear what she must have thought was a vision defect. She turned to me with a puzzled frown. ‘Give it to me straight, Leo, did that guy just vanish, or did you put some shit in the chocolate cake?’

  I smiled at her. ‘It would make it a lot easier all round if I’d laced the cake, Carol, but you’re not hallucinating. I’m afraid you’re going to have to face up to the fact that he really did vanish.’

  ‘But,’ she insisted, ‘people can’t do that.’

  I spread my hands. ‘He’s not people, Carol. He’s The Man.’

  Fowler looked at McD, Kovacs and Linda, and slumped down into an armchair, shaking his head. ‘Miriam, come on, say something. You’re a doctor. You know this can’t happen.’

  ‘A few weeks ago I would have agreed with you,’ said Miriam. ‘But what I’ve seen since Easter Saturday has forced me to suspend both belief and disbelief. I can’t give you any rational explanation, and don’t try and look for one, you’ll drive yourself crazy.’

  ‘But it doesn’t make sense!’ protested Fowler.

  I let out a long-suffering sigh. ‘Of course it doesn’t. Do you think we don’t know that? This whole event defies all logic and all reason. But it’s happened all the same. You saw The Man. You spoke to him, touched him, ate with him. I’ve got his voice on tape.’ I pointed at Kovacs. ‘Peter here even took pictures of us with him on the porch.’

  ‘I hope to God they come out,’ said Kovacs.

  ‘The Polaroids the police took were okay,’ I said.

  Gale McDonald jerked back into life. ‘Are you telling me that the NYPD have got pictures of him on file?’

  ‘They had,’ I replied. ‘They’re now in my possession.’

  ‘Do you have them here?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘Why did the police take pictures of him?’ said Kovacs.

  So many questions. And so few answers. I clutched my forehead. ‘Oh, yeah, you don’t know about that…’

  ‘Why don’t you begin at the beginning?’ suggested Miriam. ‘That way you can fill in the bits that Gale and the others don’t know about.’

  ‘Good idea.’ I served up another round of drinks, Miriam made some strong black coffee then we sat down with the five of them around the fire and told them everything that had happened to us from the moment the two mysterious ambulance men wheeled the crucified body of The Man into the Manhattan General.

  They listened gamely, and were prepared to accept most of it but the whole business of the simultaneity of time threw up too many stumbling blocks. And although nobody went so far as to say I was talking through the top of my head, it was clear that there were very few takers for the idea that he was commuting back and forth between 1981 and first-century Jerusalem.

  Which is a pity because within some forty-eight hours, he provided me with conclusive proof that he was.

  We must have talked solidly for about two hours then wrapped it up with an agreement to meet again on my return from Israel. This time for a whole weekend that we were to spend listening to the tapes I made of The Man.

  ‘What do you think, Peter?’ I said, as people got up and stretched, fumbled for car keys and rushed to the john.

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s an amazing story. So much so that it’s hard to imagine anyone making it up.’

  I nodded. ‘I know what you mean. Listen, it’s up to you. You can either believe that you spent today in the company of The Man or you can take the way out suggested by Carol and decide that all this was some elaborate hoax. If it is, someone’s been feeding me dopefilled cake for the last three weeks.’

  Kovacs smiled. ‘I did consider that but, unfortunately, it’s not a viable solution to the dilemma you’ve presented us with.’ He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Would you have any objection to me talking with Father Rosado and Mrs Perez?’

  ‘None whatsoever,’ I replied. ‘Just keep my name out of it until I get back. Is that a deal?’

  ‘Yes.’ He shook my hand. ‘Thank you for letting me share in this experience.’

  ‘It’s not over yet,’ I said.

  I caught up with Gale McDonald as she and Carol went through the front door. ‘Well, you wanted a story. Is this one big enough for you?’

  She gave me a loaded look. ‘You realise, of course, that no one’s going to believe a word of this. Let alone print it.’

  I ruffled the hair on the top of her head. ‘That’s one of the joys of being a reporter.’

  She ducked out from under my hand and shook her hair back into place with a mischievous, narrow-eyed smile. ‘Do you think he’ll be back?’

  ‘I don’t see why not,’ I replied. ‘I’m only going to be away for ten to twelve days.’

  ‘Good,’ said McD. ‘Keep in touch.’

  I switched on the outside lights as she stepped off the porch and turned my attention to Carol. ‘Hey, come on, you’re supposed to look happy.’

  She shook her head as we walked down to where the cars were parked. ‘This is all too much for me. I’m just plain folks from Cedar Falls, Iowa. All that stu
ff about alternative realities, and ‘Brax – jeezuss, who needs any of that?’

  ‘That’s exactly how I felt,’ I said. ‘But, strange as it may seem, it really does help you get things sorted out.’

  ‘Terrific,’ she said, using a word she’d picked off my pillow. ‘Let’s make a deal. You leave me out of this, and I’ll forget I came. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ We reached Fowler’s VW Rabbit. A rather apt choice of car. ‘Does that mean you don’t want to come up with the others when I get back?’

  ‘That’s right, honey.’ She gave me a pouting kiss that reminded my lips of better days. ‘Spending my weekends with a bunch of Jesus freaks is not my idea of a good time.’

  As she and Gale got in, I saw Fowler looking at me over the roof of the car. ‘I’ve got to talk to you,’ he said.

  ‘Call me,’ I replied. ‘I’ll be at home most of the day.’

  Miriam walked past with Linda and Peter Kovacs. Linda was still dazed by The Man’s disappearance. ‘It was really him,’ she said.

  I opened the car door for Kovacs. ‘I have a feeling that I’ve just lost a secretary and the Church has gained a daughter. When you get her home, tell her I said to take Monday off.’

  ‘I think I may take Monday off myself,’ replied Kovacs. He put the key in the ignition. ‘I don’t know how the two of you can take it so casually.’

  I shrugged. ‘Peter, when you’ve seen one miracle, you’ve seen ‘em all.’ It was his turn to worry now.

  We waved them away into the darkness and watched until the red tail lights disappeared round the bend in the road then went back up into the house with our arms around each other’s waist. ‘So what do you think, Doctor Maxwell? Are we going to pull through?’

  ‘Only if you follow the recommended treatment,’ she replied.

  ‘I’m going,’ I said. ‘I’m going.’

  She washed up the cups and glasses while I collected the tapes and straightened the living-room. Then we packed our bags, turned everything off and locked up the house, leaving the fire on its last legs in the grate.

  ‘Why are you laughing?’ said Miriam, as we stowed our weekend bags in the back of the Porsche.

  ‘I was just thinking of Jeff and Gale and the others.’ I settled into my seat. ‘Right now they must be wishing they hadn’t come. Still, that’s what comes of asking questions.’

  Miriam looked across at me. ‘Are you sorry you did?’

  I responded with a quick laugh. ‘If we’re to believe The Man, I was born to ask the questions, and he was born to answer.’ I turned the car around in front of the garage and headed down the lane. ‘I’ll tell you when I get back from Israel.’

  ‘Yes …’ She turned her head away and stared out of the side window.

  ‘Don’t let Jeff and the others give you a hard time.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she said.

  I glanced at her as she was lit briefly by the headlights of a passing car. Her face was streaked with tears.

  ‘You’re crying,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, I’m allowed to,’ she sniffed. ‘I’m off duty.’

  ‘Do you want to tell me why?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ she said. ‘It will only make you more big-headed than you are already.’ She pulled out a couple of tissues and honked into them like a bereaved baby elephant.

  We cruised sedately back into town along the Saw Mill River Parkway then down the West Side. It was a desperate waste of all that horsepower packed behind me but I think, subconsciously, I was trying to make the weekend last forever.

  We reached Riverside Drive. ‘Your place or mine?’ I asked.

  Miriam took her head off my shoulder. ‘Yours. You don’t have to get up this morning.’

  I turned off at the Marina and coasted home.

  Before Miriam left for the hospital, she called Israeli Airlines and enquired about flights to Tel Aviv. I lay in bed with a cup of coffee on my chest and let her organise me.

  Miriam handed me the phone. ‘There’s a 747 daily via Paris. It’s a ten-hour trip. You leave JFK at four-thirty and arrive at nine a.m. their time, the day after. There are seats available on tomorrow’s plane.’

  ‘Anyone would think you wanted to get rid of me.’ I eased myself up on one elbow and spoke with the reservation clerk who took my name and number and confirmed that the computer had allotted Resnick, L.N. a tourist-class aisle seat on the starboard side of the rear smoking section. I hung up and reached for a cigarette. ‘I’m still not sure why I’m doing this.’

  ‘Maybe you’ll discover why when you get there,’ said Miriam. Yet another of her sphinx-like remarks.

  I pulled on a robe and saw her out of the front door then fished out the reel of tape we had recorded on the Saturday, threaded it on to the deck, switched the sound through to the bedroom and crawled back under the covers.

  Before we go any further, let me do something we lawyers are fond of – and that is to define our terms of reference. If we straighten things out now, it will avoid confusion later on.

  Up to this point in the story, I’ve used the term ‘The Man’ to describe the spiritual entity of Ya’el who appeared to us in an externally perfect replica of the body of his pre-Crucifixion host. The Man then, is synonymous with the Risen Christ – in contrast to the historical personality known elsewhere as Jesus of Nazareth and who consisted of a perishable human host occupied by Ya’el’s meta-psyche and his companion, the normal Ain-folk fragment identified by the given name of their host-body – Joshua.

  Thus, we have the Joshua-Ya’el combination which, for the sake of simplicity, we can continue to refer to as ‘The Man’ and, similarly, Johanan-Gabriel. The double-barrelled combination is used whenever necessary to signify that Ya’el and Gabriel are ‘on board’.

  As I mentioned earlier, both Ya’el and Gabriel could and did detach their spirit entities from their host-bodies from time to time. When they were absent, the host continued to function under the control of the Ain-folk element, becoming fully Joshua, or Johanan. Neither of whom had any paranormal gifts. They were just ordinary people like you, or me. Actually, that’s not quite true. The presence of such powerful spiritual beings in their host-bodies had stunted the development of their Ain-folk companions to the point where Joshua, left to his own devices, gave the impression of being incoherently subnormal. What the French term – aliéné.

  Because of their power and completeness, Ya’el and Gabriel were able to fuse their meta-psyches with those of Joshua and Johanan; absorbing through them the bodily sensations of their human hosts and their experience of the external world. When they spoke, it was with the voice of Joshua or Johanan but, on those occasions, it was the personality and force of character of Ya’el and Gabriel that impressed itself upon the listener. It was at these moments that people said – ‘the spirit was upon them’.

  In the same way, Ya’el and Gabriel could break contact with Joshua and Johanan while remaining within the host-body. This withdrawal usually took place when they felt the need to shut themselves off from the influences of the external world; the inputs from the bodily senses. It was a defensive move designed to avoid unnecessary contamination of their meta-psyches. When this withdrawal took place, Joshua and Johanan took over control as they did when Ya’el and Gabriel detached themselves completely.

  One last point, which concerns Ya’el in particular. I have already mentioned The Man’s striking gaze. It appears that the disciples and others who were close to The Man could tell when Ya’el was absent by the way that Joshua’s eyes dimmed. Almost as if somebody had switched a light off inside his head.

  Within a week of arriving home, The Man announced that he was leaving to seek out his cousin Johanan. Mary, his mother, did not let go of his sleeve until she had elicited a firm promise that he would return in time to go with the rest of the family to the wedding in Cana. In fact, she wanted to send his brother James along to make sure that The Man came back on time but James managed to persuade her to let him go a
lone.

  As the second child, James was more aware of the disturbing ‘otherness’ that had periodically descended on his brother during their childhood years together. Like his mother, James knew that Joshua was able to generate, now and then, an inexplicable power to make things happen. He remembered seeing The Man-child twirling himself round to raise a howling dust-storm that blinded his tormentors; how he made stones fly like a flock of birds and sent them buzzing round the heads of boys chasing them both with sticks, from a neighbouring village where they didn’t like Jews; and the whispered, worried conversations of Mary and Joseph in the middle of the night when they voiced their fears that, in his childish anger, their strange star-child might turn his powers against them and their other children.

  They need not have worried. Although the struggle with ‘Brax and the internal conflict between Ya’el and Joshua had often made the growing Man-child moody and recalcitrant, he never forgot the trauma of his physical birth that he had shared with his teenage mother, and the love with which she had nursed him while he had lain totally helpless in her arms.

  From Nazareth, The Man headed south-east across the Plain of Esdraelon through the town of Scythopolis to Salim on the River Jordan. As he met people on the road, he enquired if they knew where he could find the holy man – Johanan the Baptiser. No one was quite sure. Some thought that he might still be around Aenon; others said they had heard that Johanan had moved north towards Galilee. But that had been a month ago, when Gabriel had been summoned to Mount Hermon.

  At Aenon, The Man discovered that the Essene community had moved south to the Dead Sea, and the villagers confirmed that Johanan had last been seen moving north. The Man turned around and followed the river until he came to the road across the Jordan that led to the eastern shore of the Sea of Galilee. As he drew level with the township of Agrippina perched on the hill-side west of the river, he saw a crowd down on the bank and a line of people crossing the road ahead of him. He questioned a woman at the tail-end of the group. She told him they had come down from Gadara to be blessed by the holy man.

  Following her down to the river, The Man saw Johanan-Gabriel standing hip-deep in the Jordan flanked by two of his disciples. Four more were busy trying to bring some semblance of order to the line of people waiting to be baptised. The years of arduous physical and mental discipline, first with the Essenes and then in the solitude of the barren hills of Judea, had burned every trace of fat from Johanan’s body; enabling him to survive in conditions that would have broken ten ordinary men.