The Harvest

by John David Krygelski

  “This pattern continues through time with each tier offering a reward that is less immediate, less tangible, and less certain, until we reach today. The demands were much simpler in the past – kill a tiger, get its cave. The demands now begin at birth and continue unrelentingly until adulthood. Man must work on his appearance, his strength, his wardrobe, his vocabulary, his level of education and obtaining it from the ‘right’ source, his choice of spouse, his mode of transportation, his ownership of the latest cell phone, and his choice for a career. All he is offered in exchange is happiness.

  “The disconnect between effort and reward has grown wider with each tier until the distance is so extreme that it is nearly impossible to see the end. This has happened at the same time that the reward has become so nebulous that it is almost imperceptible. The result, for many, is to believe that this promise is, indeed, a lie. And since this has been the most fundamental of promises, coming directly from the mouths of those whom we should love and trust the most, our own parents, then everything must be a lie. When a person reaches that point mentally, he has become the sociopath we described.

  “Sociopaths, by definition, do not contribute to society. They contribute to nothing but themselves, and they take from society all that they can. The continued functioning of the group becomes a heavier and heavier burden on those who do contribute, until one of two things happens. For some, they simply give up, overwhelmed and exhausted. For the rest, they join the other side, taking as much as they can while there is still something to take. When a society has reached that moment in time, a total disintegration occurs. Soon the government fails; the military then becomes leaderless and at best ineffective, at worst mercenary. Chaos and lawlessness follow. In the past, Reese, I have seen that as many as nine people out of ten do not survive.”

  Reese responded, “I understand how all of this can happen. It is hard for me to fathom how you could allow it to happen.”

  “What would you have me do? Leave some of the Chosen behind so they may continue to attempt to lead and to teach? Would that be fair to them? It would only delay the inevitable, and only slightly at that. Reese, my son, I have already explained that this disintegration is already beginning, and that there is nothing which can be done to stop it. All I can do is save the Chosen before it becomes too late for them.”

  “There is nothing that you can do to prevent it?”

  “You mean Elohim, the great Creator, the great God, should save the people from themselves.”

  “Yes. You sent your Son here before. He made a difference.”

  “My Son made a difference at a time that was two thousand years before the disintegration. Times have changed, Reese. If my Son were to walk the Earth today, how would He be received?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He would be considered a crackpot, New Age type with a fringe following.” Elohim’s voice had lost some of its gentle, soothing quality and was becoming deeper and louder. “When He came before, it was a simpler, less cynical time, and it still took hundreds of years before his teachings spread far enough to do good. This world does not have hundreds of years.”

  “What about you?”

  “Me? What should I do? Appoint you as the twenty-first-century Moses and send you out of this room with more commandments for the people? Or perhaps you would have me, with a wave of my hand, change the hearts and minds of the billions who live on this planet?”

  Slightly concerned that he was angering Elohim, Reese pressed ahead. “Why not?”

  “Why not? If, when you are finished raising your children, they move away, only to become something much less than you hoped for, would you kidnap them, bring them back home, and brainwash them to comply with your way of thinking?”

  “If I saw them heading toward a certain disaster, I would do that, or something like it!”

  Elohim paused. Reese could see that he was calming himself, while thinking over what Reese had said. Up to this point in their conversations, Reese had never seen Elohim appear to be at a loss for words. He found it disconcerting.

  Elohim finally replied, “Perhaps my analogy was not a good one. Reese, do you recall the schoolyard child who thought himself so clever by asking the nun, ‘Can God throw a boulder so hard that He cannot stop it?’”

  Reese nodded.

  “The answer is…yes, he can. When I created mankind, I created a vibrant, thinking, questioning, free-minded being. Remember, I created mankind so that I could eventually fill Heaven with members of this wondrous race. What I did not create was a race who could be controlled by me. How could someone whose mind you controlled be a suitable companion? Would it truly be a Heaven if it were filled by mindless zombies with no free will? You, of all people, should know that. And so, this magnificent being, capable of such beauty and art and love and joy and wisdom, is also capable of such ugliness and trash and hatred and misery and ignorance. It is not knowing…not knowing the outcome as each pair of genes combines…that makes the process so special. The joy and wisdom would have no value if there was not the possibility of misery and pain.

  “Reese, I cannot wave my hand and change the hearts and minds of the people. I cannot do so because that is the way they were made. Once turned loose, each person will become…someone – either good or bad, but a someone of his or her own choosing. Would the commandments be needed if this were not so? Would faith? You have always been taught that you have free will. If this were not the case, how could you be held accountable for your actions, for the person that you become?

  “Although I am the Creator, I have very few options open to me. I may leave mankind alone, knowing that a certain downfall is imminent. I may bring down destruction to clean the slate, as I have in the past. I may select a few who have proved themselves to be deserving and bring them to Heaven, leaving the rest to follow the path they have freely chosen. Any other course would spoil the creation itself.”

  Reese felt that Elohim, if offered another alternative, would accept it, willingly and joyfully. For there was no happiness within Elohim for this outcome, nor did Reese detect even the slightest degree of malice. Elohim did appear to be a loving and benign Creator, faced with a repugnant task and wishing that it were not so. But Reese could not conceive of a solution to offer, an alternative for Elohim to consider. Elohim was correct. To change the course of mankind, one would need to tinker with the makeup of man.

  “Forgive my arrogance, Elohim. I am trying, in my mind, to find another path for you to follow. You have had an eternity to contemplate this…and I, a mere lifetime.”

  “My eternity and your lifetime are not so different. It is only time…and time is an illusion.”

  “An illusion?”

  Before Elohim could respond, the door to the room opened, and a man whom Reese had never met, yet recognized instantly, strode in. “Doctor Johnson, I’m Bill Burke.”

  “I know, sir.”

  “If you wouldn’t mind, I would appreciate a few minutes with Elohim.”

  “Not at all.” Turning, Reese said, “Perhaps we could resume exactly where we left off when I return?”

  “If you wish.”

  After Reese had left the room, Burke took his seat and said, “I just came from seeing the Archbishop.”

  “I see.”

  “My previous visit with him, he had been hearty, healthy, and full of vigor. He now looks like a broken man. Would you mind telling me what happened?”

  “In fact, sir, I would. Even Kerry Coughlin deserves his privacy.”

  “Yes…I understand that you disabled the microphones during your meeting with him. Why do you say ‘even Kerry Coughlin’ with such contempt?”

  “As I said, the details of that discussion are best confined to Mr. Coughlin and me.”

  “You mean Archbishop Coughlin.”

  “No, I do not.”

  Sighing in frustration, Bill Burke started to get up to leave, when Elohim said, “I am willing to discuss one of Coughlin’s failings, as it relate
d to you.”

  “His failing…having to do with me. I don’t understand. The Archbishop has always been a fine person and a good friend. He has always been available when I needed help.”

  “Mr. Burke, it is not the role of Catholic clergy to be ‘a good friend.’ It is their role to help you at a time of need. As you may recall, my method of introduction with you was to mention the name of your mistress.”

  Burke turned bright red, glancing toward the window.

  “Not to worry. I have once again, as you put it, disabled the microphones.” As Burke visibly relaxed, Elohim continued, “What I did not mention to you in our first meeting was the incident involving Kerry Coughlin. You, Mr. Burke, made Jennifer Wachter pregnant. When she came to you with this news, you sought out Kerry Coughlin, asking for his guidance and advice. You are a married man, married in the Church to a fine and faithful woman who has supported you and raised your children and adored you. You repaid this by taking a mistress and compounded it by making her pregnant.”

  Bill Burke’s eyes bulged, the veins on his temples throbbed, and his face lost all color. He began to speak but Elohim cut him off with a wave of his hand, continuing to speak, “As I said, you came to Coughlin and told him all, asking what you should do. Instead of advising you to provide a healthy environment for your mistress to carry the baby to term, instead of advising you to tell your wife the truth that she deserved, instead of telling you that it would be your responsibility to raise this new child with or without the help of your wife, Kerry Coughlin advised you to arrange an abortion and pay off Jennifer Wachter.”

  “It…it was the right thing….”

  “You left from seeing Kerry Coughlin believing that it was the right thing to do, because an archbishop of the Church advised it, sanctioned it, and de facto blessed it. He failed in his duties…he failed you.”

  William Burke’s face told the story of his thoughts and emotions as he reviewed the incident, as well as his life with his family, changing from defensiveness and irritation, gradually to self-doubt, and eventually to sadness and then despair.

  After several minutes of silence, Burke’s voice, barely audible, asked, “Father…will I go to hell?”

  Staring at the FBI Director with pity in his eyes, Elohim said, “My son, did you commit a sin?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did.”

  “Did you know that you were committing a sin as you did it?”

  “Yes.” Burke’s voice quavered as he replied.

  “You do not blame Kerry Coughlin for leading you astray?”

  “No, Sir. I do not. I knew, as he told me what I should do, that it was wrong. I’m not a fool…well, I guess I am.”

  “We are not yet at the day of judgment. I cannot promise you that it is possible for you to redeem yourself in my eyes within the time remaining, because it is only days. However, I can promise you that if you do not even try, your fate is sealed.”

  Bill Burke found some slight solace in these words. Beginning to rise, he reached out to touch Elohim’s hands. With only a look, Elohim stopped him short of this. “Go, my son. You have much to do and little time.”

  Burke stood unsteadily and walked to the door.

  “Just one more thing, Mr. Burke.”

  He stopped and turned to face Elohim. “Yes, Sir?”

  “You have much to be sorry for…some you do not yet know. Jennifer Wachter took your money. She did not keep her appointment for the abortion but chose to give the child life.”

  Bill Burke did not think that he could handle another shock. Gripping the doorknob fiercely, he said, “She had the baby?”

  “Yes, she did. She had a son.” Elohim drew a deep breath, releasing it slowly before saying, “She also died in childbirth.”

  “Died! Ooohhh.” Burke collapsed against the door, overwhelmed by guilt and grief. “Oh, my God,” he murmured. Taking minutes to recover, he faintly asked, “My son. Where’s my son?”

  “He was adopted and is being raised by two wonderful people who love him as if he is their own.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Is your selfishness so great that you would disrupt your son’s life and the life of his parents, simply so you could satisfy your ego by seeing him?”

  Burke just stared at Elohim, saying nothing.

  At last, Elohim continued, “Remember, William Burke, you have mere days left. You may use them to set right as much as you can, or use them to bring more pain down upon you and the ones you love. Please, depart. You have much to do.”

  Bill Burke left.

  Chapter Ten

  Reese and Claire Johnson were eating sandwiches in the cafeteria, when Craig McWilliams hurried into the room. “Reese, you need to see this. Come quickly.”

  “What is it?”

  “The Archbishop is making a public statement.”

  “Oh, no!” Reese jumped up, leaving his food, and followed with Claire right behind. As they entered the observation room adjacent to Elohim’s area, Reese saw that the wall-mounted television was already on.

  Kerry Coughlin was sitting at the desk in his diocese office, looking two decades older than he had just hours ago. His voice was shaky and feeble, his eyes sunken. “Judgment Day,” he said, “has been foretold for many millennia. Although described in the Bible as a day accompanied by great turmoil and calamity, which is not occurring, I tell you that this day has come.” Coughlin paused for well over a minute, staring directly into the television camera lens. He continued, ”God is among us. I have seen Him. He is the Father of Abraham, the Father of Moses, the Father of Jesus, and He has come down to judge us all.”

  Coughlin stopped again, this time having great difficulty controlling his voice. Looking down at the desk for a moment, he picked up and sipped from a glass of water before continuing. “It is time for all the faithful to rejoice. It is also time for all who have sinned to prepare themselves for their penance.” After another long pause, he finally resumed, “I must confess to you, to all who have given me the respect of my position, to my friends who trusted me and sought my counsel, to my blessed colleagues and to his Holiness, our Pope, that I have sinned – I have failed my mission assigned by God, and I have failed all of you. I pray that God, in His infinite wisdom and mercy, in a thousand or ten thousand years, can forgive me and have mercy on my soul. I also pray that each of you whom I failed, by not showing you the light when you were in darkness, can find it in your heart also to forgive me. May God’s blessings be with each of you.”

  Coughlin, clearly finished, turned to look off-camera. Father James hurried to assist him as he rose from his desk and left the office. The view on the screen returned to the midday network anchor, a veteran of nearly twenty-five years of news reporting, who appeared to be at a loss for words. Relieved at the arrival of some information, the anchorman pressed his earbud deeper and listened for a moment, saying, “Our correspondent at the Archbishop’s office was told just moments ago that the person Archbishop Coughlin was referring to is being held at the Hoover Building, FBI headquarters.” Still pushing the earbud, he continued, “Apparently, William Burke, the Director of the FBI and a personal friend of the Archbishop, asked him to meet with the sus…person. We are trying to reach Director Burke at this time.” He paused again, then continued, “We’re being told that William Burke is currently unavailable, and Assistant Director Margo Jackson is in charge. We are attempting to reach Ms. Jackson now. We are also attempting to contact Cardinal Bonavente, Coughlin’s immediate superior in the Church. Right now, though, we will take a brief time-out. When we return, hopefully we can get more information on this apparent breakdown by an archbishop of the Catholic Church.”

  McWilliams muted the commercials, turning to the others in the room. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

  “More as if Pandora’s box has been opened,” said Claire.

  Reese asked McWilliams, “What was the plan for going public?”

  “I don’t think anyone got that far. T
hey were all waiting for some absolute proof, and until we got that, they just assumed that it was going to end up being a hoax.”

  “Now what?”

  “I don’t know. I wonder why Preston Bennett isn’t here.”