The Harvest

by John David Krygelski

  Elohim’s face slackened, the sadness clearly evident. “You know the reason, Lucifer. I explained it at the very beginning.”

  “The reason?” Preston Bennett took a step closer to Elohim. Reynolds and McWilliams moved to close ranks between the two, but Elohim waved them back. “That’s right. The reason I can’t come home is that I’m broken. I’m flawed.” Bennett’s voice rose in intensity. “Goddamn Almighty, the infinite power, the Creator of the Universe and everything in it, screwed up his own offspring. That all-powerful being, who can hurl comets at the Earth and make snowflakes and even fiddle with time, can’t fix ME?” Bennett’s voice had risen to a scream by the final word.

  Reese, watching Elohim closely, saw tears well up in his eyes. Elohim spoke to Lucifer softly, sorrowfully. “To correct your…flaw, as you call it, would require me to rewrite the physical laws of the universe. To fix you would mean the banishment of all of the other angels.”

  A profound loathing and abhorrence radiated from Bennett, palpable in its intensity. “Do you expect me to hear these words and say, ‘It’s okay, Daddy. I forgive you’?” He took another step forward. “I will never forgive you. You’ve made your choice.” Nodding his head in the direction of Michael, he accused, “Them, instead of me.”

  “I am sorry, Lucifer. I love you.”

  “Love me? You don’t know the meaning of the word. Do you love me as you love these mortal fools?” As he spoke, he waved his arms to encompass the gathering around them. “How can you love me and hurt me so? How can you love them and let them suffer as you do? They, your so-called beloved children, ask you that same question every day in their prayers as they become crippled and old and sick, as they lose a child or a wife, as they lie in bed at night hearing the sobs of their hungry children who do not have enough to eat. Do you think they love you? They hate you for this test you have created for them.”

  Schmidt spoke up, “There is no hatred in my heart for my God.”

  Whirling to face the Rabbi, Bennett shouted, “Shut up, you dolt! You are nothing but a lap dog. Even the most badly beaten cocker spaniel comes running, tail wagging, when his abusive master calls, hoping for a pathetic bit of attention.”

  Turning back to Elohim and ignoring Schmidt, he continued, “You’ve noticed the path mankind has begun to take. It’s ironic. That most prized of traits, free will, is leading your precious flock away from the direction you choose. Guess what? That’s how it works. That’s why it’s called free will. Most in the world have turned their backs on you. The rest will follow. It is not the result of some pervasive moral decline. It isn’t due to overcrowding or a shortage of resources. Humans are becoming wiser. They are catching on to you.”

  “It is you who have fomented this hatred,” injected Bonavente.

  Without even turning to face the Cardinal, Bennett responded with contempt, “Ahh. We are hearing from the other court jester. Tell me, Father, how do you reconcile your stated desire to populate Heaven with men possessing free will, and allow him to enter– someone who won’t even exercise free will when choosing which vestment to wear, but only follows what he is told?”

  Elohim ignored the question, his eyes boring into Lucifer’s.

  “But I will answer the buffoon. It is not I who lead them down this path. In fact, their wisdom, their insights, and their ability to think for themselves have led me to where I am today. It is within the minds of humans where I have found kindred souls, no pun intended. For they, too, have been abandoned and abused by you. They, too, are victims of your experiments, your quest for pets to amuse you in Heaven.

  “They are not traveling down the road to ruin, as each of you believes. They have simply begun to see the truth – the truth about you – for the first time in the history of this planet, and they have used their free will to decide to opt out of your game, to find their way back to the race they would have become if you had not meddled.”

  As he spoke, the clock timer finally reached its set point, and the alcove was filled with light from the high-pressure sodium bulbs overhead. Claire noticed the people, out on the steps and sidewalk, as some of them recognized Elohim and alerted others. As word spread, they slowly ascended the steps, approaching the open side of the alcove.

  “So none of this is your doing?” said Mario, his voice rising in pitch. “That is a lie. I have seen your work as have others who wear the cloth.”

  This time Bennett pivoted to confront the Cardinal. “You’ve seen my work? I have seen the work of the sycophants you refer to as your fellow priests. Your so-called church has thwarted the blossoming of mankind’s maturity at every turn. You and your brothers have never cared about people. Your only goal, just like a drug peddler in a slum, has been to maintain their dependency. Except, instead of a needle or a line on a mirror, the drug you pushed was him, no matter what harm it caused. As long as they were dependent upon him, they would also be dependent upon you. I don’t even need to go back to the good old days of the Crusades. How many working mothers, struggling to raise too many children, could have had a better life if you had not told them birth control and abortion were sins? And this was done why? To create more pets for my father? How many women, hurt repeatedly by abusive husbands, would have gotten a divorce and found safety were it not against church law? And why do you do this? It is your institutionalized oppression of women…turning them into property. Not that long ago they could not enter your church without covering their heads! To this day they cannot become priests.”

  A sneer curled the corners of his lips. “And how many altar boys have you diddled, Mario?”

  Bonavente furiously surged toward Bennett but was stopped by Leo and McWilliams.

  Bennett continued, “And if you haven’t…how many of your priests and bishops have, while you’ve looked the other way?”

  The Cardinal’s face was a mask of fury as he struggled against the restraints of his friends. Smiling, Bennett said in a taunting voice, “Wanting to kick my ass, Mario? That’s not very Catholic of you.”

  From the other side of Elohim, Reese spoke. “As a matter of fact, Lucifer, it is very Catholic of him to want to kick your ass.”

  Bennett paused, leaving his back turned to Reese momentarily. “The hotshot has finally spoken. I’ve been waiting for you to chime it.” He slowly turned and, nearly brushing against a still silent Elohim, walked directly to Reese, standing only inches from him.

  Reese did not back away, quietly adding, “The Catholics have been kicking your ass for centuries.”

  Bennett’s face showed a frozen half-smile as he tilted his head to one side, bringing it upright again. Reese looked deeply into the brown eyes, searching for a physical sign of Lucifer’s habitation of Preston Bennett, seeing nothing.

  “You don’t fear me, do you?”

  “Should I?”

  “Yes, you should.” Bennett moved an inch or two closer to Reese, their chests nearly touching. The verbal exchange was spoken so softly, the others had to strain to hear the words.

  Not even blinking and in a casual voice, Reese said, “I’m a little confused about this, Lucifer. Why should I fear you? If Elohim is the bad one, and you are just another of His poor, pathetic victims, doing nothing but picking up the pieces He left behind…helping the human race to self-actualize, to reach its true destiny, what is there to fear?”

  For a brief moment, as Bennett listened, Reese saw a quick flash in his eyes, followed by a tightening of his muscles. The moment passed, and Reese watched as Bennett brought his emotions under control. In an even tone, he said, “Perhaps you’re right.”

  “Perhaps,” Reese stated, adopting the voice used so many times when lecturing students. “Or perhaps not. Maybe we should take a look at motivation, Elohim’s and yours. What do you think?”

  Bennett shrugged, his face impassive as his eyes continued to bore into Reese’s.

  “Let’s see. Elohim put everything in motion…you know, the universe, the planets, the Earth, evolution, everything,
right?”

  Bennett only nodded.

  “Then man came along, and Elohim picked the first one with free will – Adam – and nurtured him and his family. As He watched, He became a student of human nature. He realized that free will as well as the other impulses and urges of mankind were a double-edged sword. He also knew that living in Heaven came with tremendous individual power – power that in the wrong hands…in the hands of someone like, say, you…would be abused. Giving the keys to Heaven to someone like that would be akin to handing the keys for a Masserati to a drunk.” Reese paused, then blithely continued, “Are you with me so far, Lucifer?”

  Reese saw Bennett’s jaw tighten, yet he again nodded.

  “So He watched and waited, picking out the best of the bunch, the ones whose presence would not disrupt, would not ruin the society He was creating in Heaven. To make the cut a person needed to be benign, not corruptible by the power he or she would acquire, with an ingrained caring and compassion for others, even strangers. How am I doing so far, Lucifer?”

  In a deep, controlled voice, Bennett answered, “I suppose you could describe it that way.”

  “Thought so,” Reese said lightly. “The people who freely choose to pursue the goal to reach Heaven and make the effort, make the sacrifices here to get there, go to Heaven. The ones left behind, the people who don’t make the cut, aren’t punished. They aren’t sent to any hell. They are simply allowed to live their lives as they wish and then die. Isn’t that what your ‘mature’ secularists maintain as being the alpha and the omega of life, anyway?”

  Bennett did not respond.

  “Cat got your tongue, Lucifer? I guess so. So, to continue, knowing what we know, do we have enough information to figure out what motives can be ascribed to your Father? He leaves people alone on Earth, doesn’t meddle, doesn’t manage or interfere in our lives, keeps those comets you mentioned away, along with any diseases which would wipe us out, so we can live our lives, and then He rewards the best of us with eternal life and happiness.”

  Reese’s voice changed, losing the light, condescending tone of the classroom and adopting the steady, firm timbre of a district attorney cross-examining a felon.

  “You, Lucifer, on the other hand, know your Father intimately. You sprang directly from Him. You know your very existence is toxic to His other creations. Yet, instead of destroying you in the beginning, when it was possible to do so with a minimum of collateral damage, He brought you to Earth. As He watched the progression, so did you. As He rejoiced in the appearance of man, you did not…you could not…for angels have no emotions, do they?”

  Through clenched teeth, Bennett answered, “I do.”

  “Of course you do. Now, anyway. But you didn’t then, did you?”

  “I did.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting. Before Adam, for thousands of years, there were the others. You were here. They were here. You had spent hundreds of millennia sampling the senses of the animals, the bugs, everything. You tried them all, didn’t you? Including Adam’s ancestors, the ones without free will? You were an old hand at slipping in – tapping their senses, experiencing the intensity of life through an organism, any organism. Tell me, Lucifer, when the tiger chased down the gazelle, using its teeth and claws to rip it open, which of the two did you find more fun, more satisfying to possess for those moments?”

  Saying nothing, Bennett continued to stare at Reese. Watching Bennett closely while describing the scene, Reese thought he saw a momentary flicker in his eyes.

  “The excitement and the adrenaline felt by the tiger as it attacked? Or the pure terror of the gazelle at the instant it knew its fate? My guess is that you found that both of them had a certain appeal. Why not? After all, you survived. Your awareness wasn’t snuffed out in a flash of horrendous pain. Long before the first sentient being roamed the Earth, you developed a taste for all of it: the smells, the sights, the sounds, the tastes, and the feelings of being alive. And, although every living thing on Earth was ever aware of its own mortality, mollifying its behavior, extending its life, you were impervious to such mundane concerns.”

  A slight smile curved the corners of Bennett’s mouth. Yet, still, he said nothing.

  “Even though it began as a necessity, at first not resented by you, your exile to this planet became a feast, a holiday beyond compare as you discovered the intensities of life with none of the consequences. You progressed from an angel without feelings, without emotions, to become something new, a hybrid, a melding of a pure spirit with the perceptions of a living thing.”

  As Reese spoke the last words, he saw something different in Bennett’s eyes – an ever so fleeting glimpse of sadness. A revelation struck Reese. Taking a deep breath and making his voice as sympathetic as he could, he continued, “You were happy then, weren’t you? You even thought your Father had created it all for you…to make it up to you for barring you from Heaven.”

  Barely audible, Bennett responded, “I thought he loved me.” The words, the tone, and the demeanor all expressed a deep pathos.

  “Then Adam came to be. As He nurtured Adam and Eve, protected them, and caused them to flourish, it was then you began to suspect your Father’s true intentions.”

  “Yes.” The lone word was said with bitterness.

  “It was then you realized He was still trying to find others with whom to share Heaven, others instead of you. All of the depth and beauty and vibrancy of Earth was not a gift for you but a prelude, a stage He set for man to be the star. You no longer felt you were the beneficiary of His love…just an unfortunate mistake along the way.”

  Bennett’s face was a steely mask, impenetrable and cold.

  Reese continued, “Even then, you were full of hope, weren’t you? You still craved His love.”

  A slight nod was the only acknowledgment from Bennett.

  “So you decided that if your Father couldn’t love you as you were, you would use the skill you had practiced for years; you would step into one of these humans, become him, and, by doing so, perhaps then you could be worthy of His love.”

  “It’s true. I still loved him then.”

  “It was then you chose Cain, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. I tried the others. It didn’t work.”

  “You found out that, unlike the animals, humans had the ability to reject you.”

  “Yes. As he rejects me.”

  Claire tore her eyes from the tableau before her and glanced toward the steps. She saw that the silent crowd was growing in number, pressing together, trying to see and hear the drama within the alcove.

  “Your choice was unfortunate. Cain, like yourself, had already fallen from grace.”

  Bennett nodded.

  “Instead of finding the love you sought, you only became more of an outcast. Through the lens that was Cain, you learned that he was the cause of the end of Eden. You and he were becoming one. The ire directed toward him wounded you. As Cain felt bitterness, you also learned to feel it. As his bitterness grew to resentment, it filled you as well. As his smoldering resentment flared into hatred, the fire also consumed you. Until this point, you had only experienced the basic feelings of animals: fear, excitement, contentment. The conscious mind of man was able to concoct a far more complex web of emotions – emotions which were all new to you, emotions with which you had no experience. The rejection of Cain by his parents, Adam and Eve, became a metaphor for your rejection by your own Father. With Cain’s help you learned to hate. Through Cain’s experience as well as your own, your hate was directed not only at your own Father…but at mankind, as well. For they were becoming the Chosen…the ones who could go to the place you were denied, who could receive the love of which you were deprived.”

  Bennett seemed to deflate slightly, losing a minuscule amount of the rigidity he had minutes ago.

  “Since those days, you have spent every minute of your existence, every ounce of your energy, fighting Him, trying to prevent as many of mankind as you possibly can from e
ntering the Gates of Heaven. This goal satisfies both your hatred for your Father and your hatred for mankind, doesn’t it?”

  A trace of the former anger returned to Bennett’s face as he said, “It does. In the most glorious of ways. And now, during only his third visit, his third harvest of fools, he is nearly defeated. His plan is virtually in ruins. Soon, there will be no others to join him. I have nearly won.”

  “I have one more question, Lucifer.”

  “Ask it quickly. This is becoming tiresome.”

  “Do you know why He has allowed you to stay here?”

  Bennett’s eyes widened slightly, but his tone remained contemptuous as he answered, “His guilt and the fraud he perpetrates called his love.”

  “Actually, no. You pegged it. Earth is His boot camp. But you are not some powerful, malevolent force which He cannot touch. You are here because you serve His purpose. You are nothing but His hard-ass drill instructor whose job it is to wash out the undeserving. The meaner you get, the better job you do for Him.” Looking over Bennett’s shoulder, Reese asked, “Isn’t that what You’ve said, Elohim? I believe the phrase was that Lucifer’s presence on Earth had a certain ‘utilitarian benefit,’ that he was a ‘litmus test’ for those who wished to come to Heaven.”