The Harvest

by John David Krygelski

  Electronic beeping came from the wall phone. McWilliams answered it quickly. After a “Yes, sir” and an “Okay,” he handed the phone to Reese. “Speak of the devil…crap, I need to stop saying those things…it’s Clayton Dean and he wants to talk to you.” Reese took the phone.

  “Good morning, Mr. Secretary. This is Reese Johnson.”

  “Dr. Johnson, you’ve obviously heard the news.”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Are you prepared to go public with a position?”

  It was, of course, the obvious question and the reason for Reese’s presence; yet, he had not focused on that particular issue. “I suppose I am.”

  Trying hard not to sound testy, Dean responded, “‘I suppose’ is not the answer I was hoping to hear. You are the expert to whom this administration is looking for an answer; the answer needs to be definitive and strong – whatever that answer is.”

  “I understand, Mr. Secretary. But I’ve had less than two days.”

  “The Archbishop of the Catholic Church seems to have figured it out after meeting with our guest for less than an hour.”

  “Yes, that’s true. It’s….”

  Dean interrupted, “Is there something that concerns you about our guest?”

  “It isn’t actually that. I’m just not sure in my gut that I’m ready to take the position of my career…hell, my life…on something that is so monumental, without a little more time.”

  “How much time?”

  “Till tomorrow morning?”

  “We can stall that long. I am going to announce that we have brought you in to do this. I’ll also set up a press conference for 2:00 p.m. Let’s do it here at State. I don’t want this to appear as if we think Elohim is a criminal. We need to move this away from the FBI as soon as we can.”

  “That makes sense. All right, I will commit to having my determination completed by two o’clock.”

  “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at my office. Good day and good luck.”

  “Thank you.”

  Reese hung up the phone and glanced through the window at Elohim, who sat impassively at the table, his hands folded. McWilliams turned the sound from the television back on just as the commercial break ended.

  “Good morning, and welcome back. To recap our breaking story, Catholic Archbishop Kerry Coughlin made a statement just minutes ago from his office in Washington, D.C., creating a firestorm of controversy. In case you are just joining us, here is an excerpt of his statement.”

  As the image reverted to Coughlin, Reese turned to Claire and said, “Secretary Dean wants me to take a position on this right away.”

  “You’re not ready.”

  “I told him that. I committed to two o’clock tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Is that enough time?”

  Pointing at the television as the Coughlin segment finished, Reese said, “It’ll have to be.”

  The news commentator continued, “We’ll take you now to Sheila Smith, who is with Randolf Duncan, the Nobel Prize-winning biologist and outspoken critic of the Church, for his comments on Archbishop Coughlin’s statement. Sheila?”

  The scene changed to the Berkeley campus where Duncan stood, wearing a flannel shirt and a tan fedora. Reynolds commented, “Is he trying to look like Indiana Jones?” No one laughed.

  The reporter asked, “Professor Duncan, you’ve just seen the tape of Archbishop Coughlin’s statement. Your comments?”

  “Well Sheila, you’re probably asking the wrong person. My field of study is biology. From what I saw, you need to get an opinion from a psychiatrist…someone who specializes in delusional behavior.” He paused, smiled smugly, and continued, “I guess this public breakdown of a person who is so steeped in the superstitions and mumbo-jumbo of religion was inevitable. What concerns me is how far this administration has gone over the edge. If they are conducting meetings with ‘god,’ we have a bigger problem. This President has also walked a fine line between living in the real world and conducting the affairs of his office as if we all lived in a theocracy. He may finally be going too far.”

  “Professor Duncan, what about the possibility, remote as it may be, that God has come down to Earth?”

  Laughing, Duncan responded, “We live in an infinite universe with infinite possibilities; therefore, it is possible. It’s equally possible that he has come down here to have a conference with the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny, and Santa Claus. Look, it’s time that the world, especially the United States, stops clinging to these ancient delusions. They have done nothing but damage to the human race.”

  The reporter turned to face the camera and said, “Bill, back to you.”

  “Thank you, Sheila. We have in our studio a former Catholic priest….”

  McWilliams switched off the set. “It is going to get ugly.”

  “It has been ugly for years; this is just bringing it to the surface,” replied Reese.

  Reynolds asked Reese, “What exactly is the deal? Why do these folks feel a need to attack instead of just letting people believe what they want?”

  “It’s a human tendency. When the various religions controlled the politics of their regions, they utilized government to stamp out competing religions. Religion was also notable in its intolerance of science, declaring it heresy and executing its practitioners. The communists were famous for not allowing any alternative ideologies to exist. The whites in America did it to the blacks, basically trying to make them as invisible as possible for more than a hundred years. After the civil rights movement, when many blacks began to move into positions of power within various industries – rather than pursuing the goal of equality they once had preached – they removed all of the whites from their new spheres of influence. Plato said, ‘Birds of a feather flock together,’ and that is at the foundation of it. Those within the secularist/scientist movement have now gained the upper hand in much of the world. It is now their turn. Although they claim to be the enlightened movement, as has every other philosophy or religion in the past, their enlightenment does not exempt them or prevent them from engaging in the same ugliness that the previously dominant groups employed. Their goal is the same: the eradication of all who disagree.”

  “Sadly, this is all true.”

  Startled, they all turned to see that Elohim had opened the door from the interrogation room and had silently joined them.

  “It is tribalism in its purest form,” he continued. “Every man and woman wants to be a part of a group that is smaller than the entirety of mankind. It is hard-wired into all of you. Whether it is your stratum of intelligence, your gender, your physical fitness, your skin color, your nationalism, or your religion, you strive to identify a ‘distinctness’ of which you are a part. Inevitably, the distinctness you seek is perceived by you as superior to those who will not or cannot become a part of the group. The feeling of superiority leads to intolerance. Once your group is identified and solidified, the members quickly reach a point where they cannot tolerate the presence or even the sight of a nonmember.”

  Reese asked, “Is this trait found in those who become the Chosen? It doesn’t sound like the kind of person you would want in Heaven.”

  Elohim smiled. “As I said, the tendency is hard-wired. The Chosen are as susceptible to it as all others. The difference is in its manifestation. Those who will join me in Heaven have identified their tribe as being set apart from the rest by its goodness and by the understanding that the individual is less important than the family, less important than the group, and even less important than certain ideals. Also, the Chosen do not seek to exclude; they seek to include all who wish to live this life. Although they seek to include all others, they are successful in resisting the human urge, which Reese described, to eradicate all others.”

  Craig asked, “Elohim, what about…?”

  Elohim interrupted, holding up his hand, “I wish to put to rest, once and for all time, the deplorable historical events done in my name and the name of my Son. Any person can c
laim to be a Christian; there is no entrance requirement. Some of the most magnificent human beings ever to walk the face of the Earth were Christians, and some of them were not. The same is true of the most evil who have ever lived. Many horrendous acts were performed by these evil men under my name. As has always been promised to each of you, those men received their judgment.

  “I ask you, Mr. McWilliams, did the acts of David Hale forty years ago prove that your organization was not what it pretended to be?”

  Reese looked at Craig quizzically. McWilliams explained, “Back in the ’60s, an FBI agent planted a bomb at the house of mafia boss Joe Bonnano. He wasn’t trying to kill Bonnano; he was attempting to start a gang war. None of it was authorized. He was fired and prosecuted.” Responding to Elohim, he continued, “And I see Your point. His actions didn’t make the FBI an evil organization.”

  “And remember, you have a stringent set of entrance guidelines and checks. Mr. Hale’s actions have not been the only embarrassments to the agency, have they?”

  “No.”

  “Mr. McWilliams and Mr. Reynolds, I am certain that you are as weary of being reminded of Waco as the Church is weary of the reminders of the Crusades and the Inquisition.”

  They both nodded emphatically. Elohim continued.

  “Imagine, then, that FBI badges were available at every convenience store for the price of a single dollar, and once the badges were purchased, the bearers became legitimate agents of your organization. Could you be found to be responsible for their acts?”

  “Of course not,” answered McWilliams.

  Reese interjected, “But the agency would be responsible if the Director did not move to stop the acts or punish the offenders.”

  “Reese, I have already told you that past offenders received their inevitable judgment. If you are comparing the Director to the Pope, the Pope’s participation or lack of action while presiding over the Church was certainly a part of the judgment he received, as well. I have never believed that it is my role to intervene in individual actions. Mankind was put on Earth to be judged eventually for individual suitability to be in Heaven. If there existed no temptations, no challenges, no evil to overcome, then what is there to judge? That is why the essence of a small child who dies is returned to Earth in another form…is given another chance to prove itself. Contrary to what has become a popular belief, I do not welcome the innocent to Heaven solely because of their innocence. If a person, from birth, is hidden away from society and never engages…never is forced to make choices…how might that person be judged?

  “When individual members of the church or the government, or of the leadership itself, become corrupt, as has happened many times in your history, there inevitably will arise an individual or group who will oppose them and end their evil. That is as it should be. The evil and the just shall both receive their judgment. The affairs on Earth are what permit this judgment.”

  “Sink or swim,” said Reynolds with the slightest hint of disapproval in his voice.

  “In one sense, yes. I did create this environment as a test. However, where your comparison breaks down is obvious. Who among you was thrown into this sea and expected to swim without the benefit of help and teaching from others? Be it loving parents or extended family members, mentors, clergy, or friends, there have always been people available to you to metaphorically hold your head above the water as you learned the skills.”

  Still curious, Reynolds asked, “Then what’s the point of praying if you never intervene, if you never help?”

  “Nicholas, when you were in New Orleans and prayed to me, did you receive help?”

  Reese watched Reynolds as this question was asked, knowing that he had not yet had any experience with Elohim. Reynolds blinked several times, swallowing hard, trying to conceal his surprise and disbelief. Reese asked, “Nicholas, what happened in New Orleans?”

  Making sure that his voice was steady, Reynolds answered, “Typical case of bad ‘intel.’ We were sent to pick up a guy who was making bombs in a warehouse loft. Our people thought he was a loner, trying to break into Al-Queda, trying to get noticed. Strictly small-timer, supposedly. I went out with only two other agents. I announced and entered, and all hell broke loose. There were twelve seasoned terrorists inside with UZIs and AK-47s. Because I went in first, I had the benefit of a moment of surprise and was able to dive down a small stairwell inside the loft. My two agents each took more than fifty rounds before they hit the floor.” Reynolds paused. In his eyes, it was obvious he was reliving something that he had replayed a thousand times. Finally, he continued, “I was in a 10 x 15 storage room at the bottom of the stairs, with a broken leg, a smashed radio, ten rounds in the magazine, and two spare clips. The room had no way out except up the stairs. Every time one of the bad guys tried to come down after me, I was able to brush him back with a couple of shots, never connecting any rounds. It was a matter of time till I ran out.

  “I’d never prayed before. I mean, I said my Hail Marys and Our Fathers in church, but I never prayed before…never asked for anything. I sure as hell prayed then. I prayed and prayed, asking for help. I knew that they would either keep playing cat and mouse with me until I ran out of rounds, or think of some other way to get to me. It was the worst situation I’ve ever been in, and I couldn’t figure a way out.

  “It was about the fifth time they had one of their guys pop over the edge of the stairwell that I fired two quick shots to brush him back, emptying my magazine. He had crawled to the edge of the well, extending his AK-47 out as his head cleared. He had already twisted the gun around to point down into the hole so he could shoot off a spray, hoping to hit me. My second slug ricocheted off the barrel. The lab guys said it was a one-in-a-million fluke. My slug bounced off his AK-47 and slammed into a wad of plastique that they were using to make a bomb. The plastique went off, right at table height in the middle of the room. They were all killed or knocked unconscious. I was able to crawl up the stairs, cuff the survivors, and call for help. The bomb squad told me later that my slug hitting the wad of plastique was weird enough, but the fact that the other fifty pounds of stored explosives in the room were shielded from the blast by four of the terrorists had saved my life. If they hadn’t been between the blast and the other explosives, the building would have gone up, including me.”

  Looking at Elohim, his voice so soft that it was nearly inaudible, Reynolds asked, “That was you?”

  Elohim simply nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  McWilliams spoke up, “That sounds like intervening to me.”

  Turning, Elohim said, “Do you not see a difference between controlling the direction of mankind and helping a worthy soul? As I have said before, if I controlled that which occurred, there could be no accountability. On the other hand, when a good, deserving person is in need, he or she may receive that assistance. Nicholas Reynolds, on the day that my angels interceded on his behalf, had already become who he was. He was fit for judgment on that day, and saving him did nothing to affect that judgment. What saving Nicholas did accomplish was allowing him to have positive influence on others in the days, months, and years since.”

  Claire asked, “It is only the good who are helped?”

  “Either the good or those with the potential to become good…and not every request. There have been many occasions when I have been beseeched by a worthy soul and have not interceded.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Does involving a higher power always help you as a person? If unfortunate events that are out of your control bring you to the brink of financial ruin, which is more wise – assistance from above or handling the problems yourself, even if handling them means plummeting to the depths of poverty and despair for a time? It is during your plunge and the ensuing recovery that you will find a depth and strength to your character that you did not know even existed. By intervening, I would deprive you of that discovery. Not assisting Nicholas would have only ended his life.”

  Persistently, C
laire continued, “Did You not also deprive those twelve men of their chance to become something better?”

  “I can assure you that the wish to become a better person was not in their hearts or in their minds. I only hastened their demise a bit. The plan foiled by Nicholas was for all of them to be suicide bombers mingled within the crowds during Mardi Gras the following week.”

  Reynolds joined the conversation. “Yes. Their plans, along with maps marking out each of the locations for detonation, were found in the rubble by forensics.”

  Elohim explained, “I know you could argue that the lives of the people saved at the Mardi Gras celebration will touch countless others, and that this simple act to save Nicholas will have a ripple effect upon thousands of others.”

  Claire, clearly thinking along those lines, nodded.

  “The truth is, that is not my concern. I have observed the past; I exist in the present; and the future remains a mystery to us all. Like you, I use my knowledge of the past to help me decide the best course today. There are times when my actions have certainly altered the future. The lesson many people never learn is – so do theirs. It is not only their deliberate decisions. Claire, your choice to stop your car at a yellow light, instead of driving through the intersection, delays another driver who misses a chance meeting with a woman who would have become his wife. They would have a child who would become the next great leader, or the next great villain. Can you live with that responsibility?”