The Harvest

by John David Krygelski

  The angel, if that was what he was, stepped directly in front of Sheffield and cupped his face with both hands. The grip was neither firm nor rough as he stared into Sheffield’s face. As they gazed intensely into each other’s eyes, Sheffield’s expression changed. What began as fear became a look of understanding, followed by an expression that could only be described as deep despair. As his body went limp, a yellow, misty cloud emerged from the top of Sheffield’s head. Not precisely a mist but more like the energy field that Penfield and Reese saw captured within Elohim’s hands, it emanated from the top of Sheffield’s body until, apparently, it had all escaped. The stranger released Sheffield’s face, then reached up so that his arms encompassed all of the energy, bringing it down to him. He slowly squeezed his arms together, compressing the field. As it grew smaller, the light from it grew more intense until, as it reached the size of a child’s ball, the brightness was nearly blinding to all. The stranger continued to compress it until his hands were together, as if holding a captured fly. The light seeped out from between his fingers and the edges of his hands. He then tilted his head back and unleashed a powerful roar which reverberated from the nearest buildings…and with great effort, muscles tensed and bulging, smashed together his hands, extinguishing the light.

  He relaxed his grip, then turned to Bill Burke who lay before him on the walk. Reese was surprised to see that Burke was still alive, considering the large pool of blood that surrounded him. Burke’s eyes followed the angel as he approached. Then the stranger stopped, paused momentarily and turned to Elohim instead. Expecting to see distress at this change of plans, Reese saw a slight smile play across Burke’s face.

  His footsteps echoing off the walls and columns as he walked, the stranger knelt next to Elohim and bent over, leaning so that his body covered all of Elohim’s torso. Embracing the still form, he kissed the back of his head. Those nearest Elohim gasped as they saw his hand move. The stranger rose and stepped back as Elohim slowly got to his feet. Reese saw there was no longer a wound in either his chest or his back. Elohim smiled at the stranger and raised his hand to his mouth, with his index finger touching his lips. The other man responded with the same gesture, and the column of light once again appeared, enveloping the angel.

  Elohim did not wait for the column to fade as he turned and knelt next to Bill Burke. “My son,” he said comfortingly, “your pain is over.”

  Burke smiled weakly and said, “I should have known that You didn’t need my help.”

  With a single, gentle touch from Elohim on Burke’s chest, the bleeding stopped. Soon, color returned to his face, and his breathing became normal. Elohim reached behind Burke, supporting him at the shoulders, and said, “Stand up, my son.”

  Another gasp came from the watchers as Bill Burke stood up. Softly, Elohim said, “It was not I whom you tried to save. It was obviously too late for that. It was the others…the others who were to go to Heaven soon. You intended to trade your whole lifetime to give someone else only five more days.”

  “It was just….”

  Elohim reached up and touched Burke’s lips, stopping him. “Say nothing, my child. You must go. You must be with your family.” Elohim gestured toward the television crew who had captured the entire event, and said, “Your family has seen this. They are worried. They need you.”

  Burke looked at Elohim, wanting to say so much, instead saying nothing. As he turned and walked toward the building, Reese grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Bill, wait.”

  “Reese, I just had this conversation with Elohim. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Bill…that’s not it. Look!”

  Reese was still holding Burke’s arm. He twisted it so that Burke’s right palm showed. There, where it had not been before, was the mark.

  As if broken from a trance, some of the crowd, who were closest to the front, murmured, “Elohim,” and began to cautiously walk forward toward him. The mass of people from behind followed, also trying to get closer. Elohim turned to the throng and took a step in that direction. Encouraged by this, more people continued to come until they had streamed onto the top steps, gently engulfing him.

  The first of the crowd to reach Elohim timidly touched him. They instantly felt the surge of emotions, pain, or profound insights that contact with him produced. Yet, no matter which sensation flooded them, they were also embraced by his overwhelming love. Those farther back, unable to reach him, pushed forward, discovering that the effect of his touch passed through the inner circle and reached them, as well. A chorus of voices, filled with expressions of joy and happiness, coursed through the assembly.

  Having turned a limp and distracted Sheffield over to the Capitol Police, Reynolds and McWilliams joined Reese, Claire, Burke, Margo, and Leo. They stood grouped tightly together and watched as Elohim continued to push himself deeper into the crowd, arms outstretched above their heads, allowing all to touch him. From their vantage point, they could see over the several blocks which were filled with the faithful. The effect caused by Elohim, a sensation that rippled through the mass of people, was clearly visible as those who had congregated began to bunch together to close the contact…creating a human conduit to convey his force to the farthest back.

  No one was injured, no one trampled. There was no unruliness among all of the tens of thousands of people. As they all clumped together to create a single, vibrant organism, they cared for their neighbors, helping those who were old or lame…making certain that no one fell to the ground…knowing somehow that there was more than enough of Elohim to go around…more than enough for all of the people on Earth.

  Reynolds, who had not yet felt the wonder of Elohim’s touch, said, “Why are we all standing here?” and walked down the steps to the fringe of the group, reaching forward and placing his hands on the shoulders of the first person he reached. Following his cue, the rest slowly descended to do the same.

  א

  Marie Richardson sat on the floor of her living room just outside London, staring transfixed at the television. She and her parents had watched the entire coverage and were now speechless. They watched silently as Elohim walked deeper into the mass, completely surrounded by his faithful, all reaching to come in contact with him. Not knowing why, Marie reached out and touched the screen. “Mother! Father!” was all she shouted as she hurriedly pressed her other hand to it, as well. Curious, her parents came to the set and also touched it. The same force, which pulsed through those present at the gathering, reached through the air and across the continents to embrace the three of them. Millions of others, watching the live coverage throughout the world, discovered the same phenomenon.

  א

  Sister Mary George, working as a missionary in a small village in Brazil, watched her battery-powered television. The satellite dish, fastened to the top of a nearby tree, brought the rest of the world in for her, and she now watched the live camera feeds from the State Department in Washington, D.C. She also had laid her hands upon the set…without knowing why…and made the same discovery as the others. Wanting the villagers to feel the power of God’s love, she pulled herself away from the set and ran outside, intending to bring them into her hut in small groups. Exiting, she was startled to find them all…what appeared to be the entire, small population of this enclave…lying prone on the bare earth. Fearing that something horrible had happened, she ran to the first of the villagers to rouse him. Bending, she grasped his shoulder and gently shook him. It was then that she saw he was smiling, pressing his face tightly against the soil. Taking her hand from him, she touched the earth and felt the same tingle that she experienced from the television. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the ground.

  א

  Suri Kaval watched the entire spectacle from his office…alone. He sat motionless during it all, showing no expression on his face. As Elohim mingled with the masses, Suri, with some curiosity, reached out and touched the television screen. Feeling the powerful sensation emanating from the set, he immediately jerked his hand away…vi
gorously rubbing it against his other.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Just as the planet seeks a new stasis after a shifting of the magnetic poles, mankind contended with the new reality of Elohim’s arrival by performing millions of interrelated adjustments, some minute, some monumental. The changes were rapid…and as varied as the wildflowers in a meadow, the effect of each small change rippling outward and affecting others. Within minutes after the televised statement and the spontaneous assemblage, people began leaving their jobs, not even bothering to speak to their supervisors as they left, realizing that this event, this moment in time, was far more significant than any daily activity.

  Most went home to their families. For those whose children had scattered to other towns and cities, calls were made or attempted, e-mails sent, plans created for a rapid reunion. The impact of the mass exodus of employees had yet to affect the airline reservation websites, and many people booked themselves or their loved ones on flights that would never depart. There were those who were separated or divorced from their wives or husbands and sought them out, yearning for the comfort and security of the former bond. Not all of these attempts had a positive result, yet several did.

  Whether being one of the Chosen or not, it seemed that no one wanted to be alone. It was human nature to strike out, to seek a self-reliant existence only when one felt secure. Times of great change – whether they were wars, depressions, or natural disasters – triggered the herd instinct that had caused mankind to descend from the trees and band together millions of years ago.

  After determining the status of their immediate families, people then became curious about the friends, acquaintances, and associates in their lives. The mark – or the absence thereof – engendered a cascade of emotions as people found out who were of the Chosen; however, amazingly, surprise was rare. It seemed that nearly all knew in their hearts whether they would and should bear the mark, and they instinctively knew who among them would or would not.

  The reaction of the Chosen was, for the most part, one of serenity and pride. The exceptions were those chosen who now faced the decision necessitated by being with loved ones who were not. The first reaction of those unfortunates was to insist to their wives or husbands that they would stay behind, that they would remain with them. The non-chosen spouses, displaying the unmistakable absence of the mark, invariably understood the reasons they were not chosen. They felt an urge to disclose and explain the choices made and actions taken that had led to their disqualification. For some, the result of their confession was to dampen the urge of the chosen spouse to stay behind.

  The serenity and pride exhibited by the Chosen seemed most akin to the attitudes of people who had received new, long-sought-after jobs, and still assiduously labored with their soon-to-be-previous employers. The same character and discipline, which helped them to be chosen, dictated that they fulfill their obligations here on Earth for their last five days. And so it was that the Chosen, when first hearing the news from Elohim, did as all others and scurried to their homes and families; yet, it was also the Chosen who soon returned to their desks, their trucks, their counters, their routes. They knew the importance of their contributions and were aware that they had only five days to help their colleagues and employers fill the impending void. They would assist in the transition honorably.

  If the non-chosen had possessed the same character and honor, their status might have been different on this day.

  א

  Margo Jackson sat in Clayton Dean’s office, waiting for him to finish his call to the President. She had come directly from Elohim’s greeting to the masses, thinking that it might be necessary for the government to react quickly to the unfolding of the recent events. Although not yet knowing what exactly might compel it, she knew the FBI would certainly be a part of that reaction.

  It was impossible to ignore Dean’s side of the conversation, which was fairly insubstantial, mostly consisting of “Yes, sir” and “No problem.” He held the handset tightly with his right hand so Margo could not yet tell if he had the mark. Hanging up, he turned to her. “Quite a day, huh?”

  “You could say that.”

  “What’s the status of the would-be assassin?”

  “We’ve got him in lockup right now. He seems almost drugged. I don’t know what that…Claire Johnson called him an angel…took from him, but I suspect that someone who had a frontal lobotomy would have more spark.”

  “Have you had a chance to discuss any of this with Elohim?”

  “Briefly. I asked Him…I don’t remember how I phrased it…but, basically, I asked Him what He would like us to do with Sheffield. His answer was that we could do what we wished with what was left. The Sheffield who pulled the trigger was already gone…forever. I believe the word He used was removed.”

  Clayton, unsure how to respond, stared at Margo. Finding words, he said, “His spirit, I guess.”

  “I remember Elohim telling Reese early on that some of us are irredeemable and that after judgment those people are just ‘gone.’ Their molds are broken. They lose their souls. They cease to exist. I believe that’s the case with our Mr. Sheffield.”

  “Well, I’m sure that we’ll still deal with, as you put it, ‘what’s left’ in our usual fashion.”

  “Yep. He’ll be arraigned, tried, convicted, and tossed into a penitentiary. I guess the charge will be attempted murder…murders. Probably need to keep him in solitary. I don’t think the other cons will be too gentle with someone who tried to kill God. But it just kind of feels like we’re wailing on a carcass. The punishment has already happened.”

  Dean, remembering the image of the angel as he saw it on the television, and the colossal energy exerted to smash Sheffield’s spirit out of existence, said, “Yeah, I think it has!”

  “Clay, are we getting any feedback from other countries yet?”

  “You know, it’s surprisingly quiet. I think that they are all so accustomed to giving canned responses, whether they be positive or negative, that they’re at a loss. This is not a time for standard responses.”

  “I was thinking, politically, that this reminds me of a situation years ago when I was an agent in Seattle. Reagan, when he was President, visited the field office, and we were all gathered to meet him. He questioned us about a case we were working on at the time…a serial killer…and we started out giving him this formal recap. Pretty soon he cut through the crap and was quizzing us about details, procedures, that sort of thing. Boy, he really put us all at ease. About halfway through the discussion, I realized a couple of things. First, I saw that he wasn’t the doddering, intellectual lightweight the press portrayed. His grasp of the details and the nuances of the case was quick and incisive. He even made a few suggestions for us to pursue that were right on; no one had thought of them before. The second thing I noticed was that the chain of command had just dissolved in his presence. The lowest ranking agents were chatting directly with him, taking his advice, answering his questions, without even a glance toward their immediate supervisors. And when he spoke, when he suggested an action or avenue, we just agreed to follow up on it…directly to him.

  “When he and his entourage left, the bureau chief just looked at us all and said, ‘Okay, you all know what to do,’ and we all split. It was obvious that he felt it would be out of place to restate or countermand any of the things our President had told us.”

  Clayton added, “In a situation like that, you’re not even sure you’ll be listened to by your people after they’ve heard from the boss. I see your point…none of the leaders out there want to test their power with Elohim present. It’s a no-win situation. Elohim’s leaving in five days, and they’re all hoping the status quo will return. If they test him now, and if their people just disregard them…that defiance will remain in the minds of the masses after Elohim is gone.”

  “Planting the seeds for future rebellion.”

  “You know…sitting here thinking about this…it’s kind of a revelation. When we all
studied history and learned about how various governments coped with religion, God was an abstract concept. I’m not saying that no one believed in Him; apparently many did. But leaders, being the power-hungry beings that they are, obviously couldn’t tolerate their people having a split allegiance.”

  “No, that’s true. So, some of the leaders co-opted God.”

  “Co-opted…hell, some claimed to be God, or the direct descendant. It was the only way they could gain the loyalty that mankind reserved for God.”

  “And some of them outlawed God.”

  “Yes, and that didn’t work out very well. If you try to push religion underground, it seems to strengthen.”

  “Other rulers created their own religions, making observance mandatory, as an attempt to divide and conquer.” Dean, reflecting for a moment, added, “It’s funny if you think about it. The secularists have been shouting for years that man created God, that God has been the flag under which countries have marched, that religion was a tool of the despot to keep everyone in line – when, in fact, the reverse has been true. The stubborn desire to believe in God and in His laws, placing those laws above the laws created by any ruler, has been a stumbling block for all the nasty dictators there have ever been. Even after all their enemies have been defeated, they still had to kowtow to the religious, and those who didn’t…failed.”