The Harvest

by John David Krygelski

  There were no tears in Burke’s eyes. His happiness was sincere and profound. Elohim reached up and laid his hand against the side of Burke’s face. In an overwhelming flash, Bill Burke’s mind filled with images of a life that he had not lived, his life as it would have been had he never transgressed and had Elohim not come. In blazing succession, each day, each minute of the rest of his life, as it could have been, filled his mind, leaving vivid memories of the tastes and smells…the touches and sights and sounds…as if they were all real. In his mind, he lived a long and happy life with Beth. Their children grew and married and had children of their own. He and Beth grew old together, happily sharing each step…each stage as a team…as soulmates.

  Elohim took his hand away from Burke’s face, and the torrent stopped; yet, the memories were all still there, as real as his memories from before this moment. Starting to wobble, Bill reached out and steadied himself against the wall, his face painted with happiness and contentment. It took quite some time for him to find his voice, finally saying, “I want to thank You…thank You for that. I have something to carry with me after…after….”

  “Yes, you do,” said Elohim gently.

  Taking a long, deep breath, Burke resolved, “We’d better get back in there.”

  As they entered the room, Margo called out, “Bill, look at this!”

  He looked at the nearest screen and saw the aerial shot again. Not only were the sidewalk and steps in front of the building now filled with people, the street was, as well – as were all of the streets leading to the building. The crowd extended for blocks in all directions; and as the helicopter flew higher, they could see that people were still coming. The reporter’s voice-over explained that the fire and police departments had given up any attempt to control the mass of people and were organizing staging areas several blocks away, with portable medical facilities and riot gear, if they were to be needed.

  Reynolds asked Elohim, “Is this a riot waiting to happen?”

  Elohim shook his head and said, “These are the faithful…there will be no violence from them.”

  Reese asked, “They’re all chosen?”

  “No,” Elohim answered, “nearly all are not.”

  “They’re not going with You…and this won’t be a violent crowd?” Craig asked.

  “There are many good people…people who love their God…who will not go. In their hearts they understand. If they feel anger at all, it is anger toward themselves…for the decisions they made that caused them not to be chosen. Most of these people have attended their churches or temples their whole lives, out of love. It is their love for me that brings them here.”

  “So much for the separation of church and state,” muttered Margo, switching to another channel. The four screens showed that another network had been successful in getting a crew to the entrance of the building.

  The reporter, a young black man, was jammed in between people and clutched a microphone. “The crowd is amazingly subdued. I’ve covered gatherings of one-tenth or less this size and have been nearly afraid for my life. Everyone here is calm and orderly. There’s no pushing or crowding.” The reporter pressed his finger against his earbud and listened.

  Reese commented, “Notice how no one in the crowd is ‘hamming’ for the camera?”

  The reporter said, “I’m going to talk to some of the people here now.” Turning to the first person to his side, he asked, “Hello, sir. May I ask you name?”

  The interviewee was a thirty-something male, clean cut, wearing a suit and tie. “Dylan.”

  “His parents were hippies,” Craig said softly.

  “Dylan, why are you here today?”

  “To see God.” The young man delivered the phrase without either irony or exaggerated wonder…just in a very matter-of-fact manner.

  “So you believe Elohim is God?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Did you receive the…mark?”

  “No,” the man answered, showing his palm. “I didn’t.”

  “How do you feel about that? Are you upset?”

  “Not at all. I feel okay with it.”

  “Why?”

  “My whole life I wondered if there really was a God. My parents took me to church for a while, then they stopped….”

  “See, I told you they were hippies,” Craig muttered.

  “But I always wondered what everything was all about, why we were here and, you know…I guess, the meaning of life. Now I know.”

  The reporter would not let it drop. “But Elohim isn’t taking you to Heaven.”

  “That’s my fault. I did a lot of things I shouldn’t have done. I was just too much into myself. I made my choices…I can live with that.”

  “I’ll be going out there now,” Elohim said.

  The reporter turned to interview another person as Margo turned off the sound. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…sir. A crowd that size is a time bomb. There’s no way we can maintain any kind of security.”

  “I’ll not be requiring any security.”

  “Elohim…please.”

  He turned to Margo and explained, “Everything is fine, my child. This must be done. They…” – he gestured at the television – “have come to see me, and they deserve that.” There was a finality to his voice that could not be dissuaded. Margo dropped back into her chair and sighed.

  Reese said, “I’m feeling a little strange.”

  Reynolds asked, “Why?”

  “It’s done. I just realized that my part of this is over. I hadn’t given that a moment’s thought for the past three days, and it suddenly hit me.”

  “Same here,” said Penfield. “I should be getting home to my wife. I really have a lot to do…in the next five days.”

  The depth and breadth of Penfield’s words silenced everyone. Each of them pondered the future. Each who had the mark, unless he or she chose otherwise, would be departing this life for something new…something so different it was incomprehensible.

  Claire was the first to speak. “Elohim, when we go…how does it happen? Do we die?”

  Obviously, no one had considered the mechanics of the transition. Claire’s questions caused concern and fear to flicker across all of their faces.

  “No, Claire. There is no need for your death. When it is time, the journey will be as a sleep with a wondrous dream. When the dream is complete, you will awake and be in your new home…you will be in Heaven.”

  Claire and the others were reassured by his words, by his voice. Elohim continued, “Reese and Claire, I wish you to remain with me for these next five days – not simply because your presence is so well enjoyed, but because we have also begun many conversations that should be relayed to the others, to those who will stay behind. That task should be yours, Reese. I would like for you to prepare a detailed explanation of all that we have discussed…be it in writing or in your own voice. As you prepare it, you will have more questions…questions that should be answered.” Turning to Penfield, he said, “Walter, you may also stay if you like. If you prefer to go home, you can convey your additional questions to Reese. He will obtain whatever answers you may need.”

  Penfield nodded.

  Reese glanced at Claire questioningly. She nodded her assent and he answered, “We would be honored to remain with You.”

  “Thank you,” said Elohim.

  “Nicholas and Craig, unless you would prefer otherwise, I’d like you to stay with Elohim to provide whatever security coordination you can…,” Margo said as she glanced at the television. Remembering that her boss was present, she added, “If that’s all right with you, Bill.”

  He smiled. “Margo, you’re in charge. I just stopped in briefly. I need to be getting back home.”

  “So be it,” said Elohim. “I will be seeing my people now.”

  They all quickly got to their feet. Penfield asked Bill Burke, “Is there any way out of here…through that mess?”

  “Yeah, there are several that are probably okay. Stick with me
, and I’ll show you.”

  Turning to Elohim, Burke said, “I hope to see You again.” There was more meaning in this phrase than normally would be attached.

  Elohim nodded and said, “You will, my son.”

  Burke and Penfield exited first, followed by the rest of the group. Margo said to Elohim, “At least give me a few minutes to get a detail out front to clear the area a little.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Elohim answered, walking briskly toward the end of the hallway that led to the building entrance.

  “Oh, crap,” Margo said as she, Reynolds, and McWilliams scurried to get in front of him, attempting to run some sort of interference. Reese, Claire, and Leo followed closely behind. As they left the hallway and walked through the large lobby, McWilliams, shouting orders, frantically motioned for several of the security police to join ranks around them. Looking through the glass doors, Reese could see the crowd waiting patiently. The mass of bodies seemed to stretch out behind those in front, to infinity.

  Bracing himself to be mobbed, Nicholas pushed open the doors, barely in front of Elohim who had not at all slowed down. The expected outburst did not come. As the people in front saw Elohim, all conversation hushed, and they began dropping to their knees. Elohim strode to within two feet of the front of the crowd, and in a powerful voice said, “Do not kneel before me. All of my children are worthy to stand at my side.” The many who had kneeled began to rise, until all were standing…quietly…expectantly.

  א

  Bill Burke and Walter Penfield were making their way through a rear corridor as a security officer burst out through an office door excitedly. “Director Burke. Thank God.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve been trying to reach Agent Reynolds. I…he must not have his cell phone with him.”

  Reading the name tag, Burke said impatiently, “Officer Delaney, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s such a mob out there…we’ve been going crazy trying to profile the crowd…running the face-recognition software.” The officer paused, catching his breath. “We got a hit. It’s a face that Agent Reynolds flagged recently.”

  “Let me see it,” said Burke.

  The officer whirled and went back into the security station. One wall was filled with monitors, each with a different view of the building exterior. The center screen, triple the size of the others, was used for a closer inspection of a selected view. On this screen was a close-up of Lynn Sheffield, who was standing approximately three or four people back from the front. The security officer sputtered, “We got a software hit…brought up the….” After some keystrokes, the main screen split into two views, the second view showing Sheffield as he spoke with Reynolds and McWilliams on the steps of the Hoover building.

  “Anyway, we brought up the original. It’s obviously a match.”

  “Does Reynolds’ tag of this guy give an explanation?”

  “Protester…harassing Dr. Johnson…first in Tucson. Then he showed up here.”

  Burke thought for a moment. “He’s probably just here today for the same reason. In a crowd that size, we’re bound to get just about everybody.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. Then we saw this….”

  After more keystrokes, the live image of Sheffield froze, then ran backward to a point where he had turned sideways to the camera. Delaney stopped the digital display and zoomed in for a close-up. Before he could speak, Bill Burke saw it. Tucked under Sheffield’s coat was a gun. Turning on his heel, he ran for the door, yelling over his shoulder, “Get hold of someone up front…anyone! Get Elohim back inside!”

  Burke ran the length of the hallway in seconds, sliding around the corner toward the direction of the front of the building. He reached for his pistol and remembered that he had left it at home.

  א

  “I hear each of your prayers. As you face every tribulation of your lives, as you turn to me, I am there at your side. Not to undo the deeds…not to stop the assaults upon you…that is not my way. I am with you to love you as a father and a mother love their only child.”

  Reese studied the faces of the congregated as they stared, entranced by Elohim and his words. He saw that Elohim had been right. Several of their hands were visible and were not marked, yet their eyes were adoring.

  “I not only love you…I feel your love for me. It fills my very being with joy. I will soon depart, and at my departure many of you will remain. Remember, as you stay behind, my promise – my promise that I will….”

  Suddenly, through the front of the crowd burst someone Reese did not immediately recognize. Tall and slender…red hair and a beard…Reese knew he should recognize him, but could not. The stranger shouted, “THIS IS A LIE! HE IS A FRAUD! HE ISN’T GOD BECAUSE THERE IS NO GOD!”

  Reese suddenly remembered – Lynn Sheffield, the protester from Tucson. Reese noticed several things happening at once. Sheffield pulled a gun out of his jacket and aimed it at Elohim. There was a shout from behind, and Reese turned toward the source, seeing Bill Burke sprinting through the front doors. There were two tremendous reports as Sheffield fired his gun. Reese spun around, looking for Claire, who was standing directly behind Elohim. He saw the blossom of red spreading across her blouse and realized that she had been shot. Furious, he turned toward Sheffield who was pointing his weapon directly at Reese’s chest. Sheffield shouted, “YOU DID THIS! YOU’RE A PART OF THIS!”

  Reese could see Sheffield’s finger tighten on the trigger, and he braced himself for the inevitable impact. He felt, more than saw, a blur of motion at his side a moment before he heard the gun fire. Bill Burke, seeing what was about to happen, had plunged in front of Reese, taking the bullet in his chest, just inches from his heart, ripping his lungs apart. As Burke went down, Reynolds and McWilliams dashed around him, slamming into Sheffield. Reynolds, grabbing for control of the arm with the gun, twisted violently, wrenching the weapon from Sheffield’s grip. As it clattered down the steps, exposed by the retreating crowd, Sheffield, pointing at the fallen figure of Elohim, screamed, “LOOK! HE’S DEAD! CAN GOD BE KILLED?”

  Stunned, Reese looked at Elohim, who lay face down on the concrete, a large, gaping hole blasted out of his back. He ran to Claire, who was just starting to drop to her knees. Lowering her down and cradling her, he shouted to the security officers, “We need a paramedic here! Please hurry! We need a paramedic!”

  Ignoring the pandemonium all around, Reese said, “Claire, baby…are you all right?” He gently stroked the side of her face.

  Her eyelids fluttered for a moment before she focused on his face. “It hurts, honey,” she said softly.

  “I know,” he answered, trying to soothe her. Reese saw Claire’s gaze shift from his face to the space beside him.

  “What’s that light?” she asked, sounding frightened.

  Panic struck him as he remembered the oft repeated descriptions of near-death experiences and the light. He turned to see a narrow shaft of bright, white light coming down from the sky. About the thickness of a pencil, it was so intense that he could not see through it. It was focused on a spot only two feet from Elohim’s still body. The shaft gradually widened until it was nearly the width of a doorway. An apt description, Reese thought, as he saw the light dim to nothing, leaving within its former circumference a lone man with jet black hair and piercing eyes.

  Everyone within sight of his arrival was stunned to silence and watched as he turned and knelt next to Reese and Claire. Reese stared at his face, not remembering a more beautiful countenance throughout his lifetime. With great care, the stranger placed his hand upon the bloody area of Claire’s upper chest. Reese saw that she was staring directly into the stranger’s eyes, and he was staring into hers. Moments later, she suddenly spasmed a single time, and he lifted his hand. Reese saw there was no blood on the fingers or palm.

  As the man stood and turned away, Claire said, “Reese, honey! It doesn’t hurt. The pain’s gone!”

  Astonished, Reese pulled the top o
f her blouse down a little and, instead of seeing a wound, saw her smooth, pale skin. Even the blood was not there.

  Next the stranger turned and walked to Sheffield, who was still restrained by both Reynolds and McWilliams. No longer struggling and defiant, Sheffield’s expression was one of a cornered mouse watching a snake approach. Reese noticed that no one made a sound; only the breathing of those nearby could be heard. Claire, propping herself up slightly, whispered to Reese, “An angel!”