by Steven Smith
Paoli looked thoughtful. "What are your conditions?"
"As far as a legal code, we figure the Ten Commandments are fine. As to how to relate to others, the Golden Rule covers it. And finally, we will care for those who can't take care of themselves, but those who are able to work must work."
Paoli nodded slowly. "A biblical model."
"If any wanted out of that other church but didn't want to come with us, would you be willing to take them in?" Jim asked.
Paoli thought for a moment. Although the guests seemed like good people, he didn't know them and couldn't judge their real intentions yet. Now, Jim had asked him a question that seemed to clarify the visitors' position while calling on him to declare his own. Again, he nodded. "We would not turn anyone away who came to us for help,” he answered carefully, “but our resources are already thin, and more people would stretch those resources even more."
"How much more of that field are you going to turn and plant?" Jim asked.
"As much as we can, but it's going more slowly than I thought it would. And I'm not sure how far our seeds will go."
Jim looked at Paoli closely. "I don't mean to pry, but how long do you think your food will last?"
Paoli didn't answer immediately, remaining quiet and staring at his beans. Finally, he spoke without looking up. "I'm not sure, but I think a couple of months."
Jim thought for a minute. Stonemont didn't have the resources to feed this number of people for more than six months, and that put them in the middle of winter. Then, they would all starve. They couldn't let that happen.
"Pasquale," he said, "we'll be back in the morning. I have an idea."
10
Pasquale Paoli was praying at the sanctuary rail when he first heard the engine. At first, he couldn't identify it, so he rose from his knees and went outside.
As he exited the church, he saw a tractor turning off of the main road, pulling a large contraption behind it. Preceding it was the red Excursion the people from Stonemont had arrived in the day before. He watched as the tractor and SUV came up the hill and pulled into the church parking lot. Both vehicles shut down, and Jim Wyatt and some others got out.
"Morning Pasquale!" called Jim, as he and the others approached. "We thought we'd stop by and lend a hand with your garden."
Paoli stood transfixed. He had just been praying for God's guidance and assistance, but God had rarely answered his prayers so quickly in the past.
Jim stuck out his hand, which the still stunned Paoli shook, and made the introductions. "You remember Ann from yesterday. This is Christian, my wife Kelly, and the guy walking over from the tractor is Ralph. Folks, this is Pastor Pasquale Paoli."
Everyone shook hands, some again and some for the first time.
Paoli looked at the group. Clearly moved, he shook his head slowly. "I don't know what to say, except thank you, and thanks be to God." He glanced back at the church. "We're just starting to get up. Can I offer you some breakfast?"
"No thanks, Pasquale. We had something on the way. Also, on the way, we made another stop at Wal-Mart and pretty much emptied their seed inventory and gardening tools. There are both hybrid and heirloom seeds, so you'll want to keep those separate for seed harvesting, but they'll all be good to grow for this season. Ralph will till a few acres and help you with all that."
Paoli was trying to keep his composure but was starting to visibly shake with emotion. He had known in his heart that they didn't have enough to make it through the winter, even if their garden produced as they hoped. The people from Stonemont had very possibly saved the lives of everyone at Redemption.
Jim stepped up to Paoli, placing a hand on each massive shoulder and looking into his eyes.
"Pasquale, remember what I said yesterday about our guide for dealing with others?"
Paoli nodded. "The Golden Rule. 'Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.'"
Jim nodded. "That's the one." He slapped Paoli on the shoulder. "Well, here we are."
An hour later they were once again pulling into the parking lot of Family Church. They had unloaded the seeds and hand tools from the Excursion and left Ralph behind to till the field and give advice on preparation for planting. Pasquale had agreed it might cause a problem if he went with them, but a Redemption member who was in the Kansas National Guard had asked to come along. Jim looked in the rear-view mirror at him. "I'm sorry, buddy, what was your name?"
"Josh, sir."
Jim chuckled. "No 'sirs' around here, son. Jim will do and we're happy to have you. You're checked out on that AR, right?"
Josh patted the AR they had loaned him. "Yes, sir. Jim"
Jim pulled the Excursion up in front of the church again, heading in so the doors could provide some cover when they got out, and turned off the engine. "Everybody stay in the truck. If his little storm troopers come out with him, wait for my sign, then Christian and Josh come up on my wings. Kelly and Ann, you stay put until we secure things. We need you for the women and kids."
The front doors of the church opened as Jim was getting out of the truck, and Hanson walked out flanked by the same four of his security detail they had seen yesterday. Today, he was dressed in a black golf shirt, black slacks and black loafers without socks. The same gold jewelry sparkled on his neck and wrists.
"Hello brother!" Hanson called with a big smile, striding purposefully up the front walk. "This is the day the Lord hath made, and we welcome you in it!"
Jim nodded. "Uh huh. We've brought some food for your people. How are they today?"
"We're fine,” answered Hanson, smiling even bigger, “and under the Lord's protective care. I always tell my people that faith will see us through, no matter how dark the evil one's attacks may make it appear, and our sacrificial giving will be returned to us a hundred-fold.” He raised his hands, as if giving a benediction. “We praise God that he has sent you to us in our time of need, and I can assure you that your generosity will be returned to you many times over."
Jim nodded slowly. "Yeah, well, we have some food for your people. If you want to have them come out, we'll issue some meals to each of them.”
Hanson lowered his arms and shook his head. "That won't be necessary. My men can take it in to them."
The bodyguards started to move forward, but Jim stopped them. "No, that's alright. It'll be easier to have them come past the truck in a line. Besides, we'd like to meet them.”
Hanson's face flashed the mixture of anger and confusion he had displayed the day before, and he seemed unsure of what to do or say. The security detail seemed edgy and looked back and forth between their pastor and the outsider who was daring to challenge him.
Jim looked at each of them, gauging their mindsets. The two to his left appeared unsure of what to do and showed signs of wanting to back away. The two on his right, however, were staring at him hard, obviously offended that anyone would question their boss. Both looked as if they wanted to crush the outsider, and one was moving his hand closer to the gun at his waist.
"Pastor,” said Jim. “do your men believe in Jesus?"
Hanson lifted his chin as if offended. "Of course they do. I would not have a non-believer on my staff."
"That's good," Jim said, nodding to his right, "because that one on the end is about to meet him."
The guard on the end froze as Jim pulled his shirt back from his pistol. Jim raised his hand and Christian and Josh got out of the Excursion, taking their positions.
Hanson turned pale under his tan. "What is the meaning of this? How dare you bring weapons to the house of God!"
"Well, we just wanted to fit in, pastor, so we thought we'd dress like your men. Now, if you would be good enough to have them remove their weapons, very slowly, and lay them on the ground in front of them."
Hanson looked back and forth between the man in front of him and his own men. Beads of sweat had started to form on his forehead and his breathing had suddenly become fast and shallow. He was beginning to feel faint, confused and frightened by the
sudden turn of events and the loss of the control he had become so used to. Minutes before, he had been secure in the belief that he could convince and manipulate people as he pleased, as he always had. Even in these dire circumstances he had had no doubt he could get his way with these outsiders and maintain control over the members who remained inside. Now, he felt everything suddenly spiraling out of control and, for the first time in his life, he felt personally threatened.
The fear almost paralyzed him, but he raised his hands. "Please, there's no need for this. I have money. I have other things you might want." His mind searched frantically for the thing that would buy him out of this. "I have...I have women inside. You can have your pick."
Jim's stomach turned with disgust and anger rose within him. He had felt something was wrong when they were here yesterday, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Now, it was clear. He drew his pistol and let it hang in his hand at his side. "Your men have ten seconds to lay their guns down, or we will disarm them."
Hanson looked frantically around. He could not understand what was happening. The situation made no sense to him. He could not think. Slowly, he brought up his clasped hands as if in prayer. "Please … please... I beseech you ..."
The sharp cracks of two rifle shots interrupted Hanson, and Jim looked over to see the guard on the far right crumple to his knees, his hands clutched to his chest and his pistol laying on the ground beside him. Christian was holding his rifle on him in case more shots were necessary, and Josh had his weapon shouldered covering the others.
Jim looked down at the now kneeling Hanson, who was starting to cry, then at the remaining security guards. "I figure you're down to about two seconds."
The three standing security men slowly removed their pistols and laid them on the ground.
Jim nodded. "You guys aren't as stupid as you look. Now take off your duty belts, drop them on the ground, take two steps forward and lay face down on the ground with your wrists crossed behind your backs.
The guards looked at each other, hesitating.
Jim raised his pistol. "I'm not going to say it again."
Slowly, the guards got down on the ground and crossed their wrists behind their backs.
Jim took several steps toward them. "Now listen closely. If you do what we tell you, you might live through this. If you don't, you won't. Lay still while we cuff you. Try to resist and we'll shoot you."
Christian went behind the three and flex cuffed them.
"Him too," said Jim, indicating Hanson.
Christian flex cuffed Hanson and pulled him to his feet.
Hanson tried to pull away from Christian, turning to Jim. "Please, I'll take you inside. I'll take you to them. I'll tell the guards to cooperate."
Jim scoffed. "Yes, you will take us to them. As far as getting the guards to cooperate, don't worry, we'll handle that." He grabbed Hanson by the back of his shirt and shoved him toward the church door. "Let's go.”
They entered the building. "Which way?" asked Jim.
Hanson turned toward him. "It's not what you think. I swear. We had to keep them separate to keep them safe."
"Keep who separate?"
"The men. The women. The children. We had to separate them in order to keep them safe, to minister to their needs." Hanson had started to regain some of his composure, obviously convincing himself of the rightness of his actions by repeating a claim he had invented to excuse them.
Jim stopped and put his face within inches of Hanson's. "You separated the men, women and children?” he whispered, his eyes boring into Hanson’s. “You separated families?"
Hanson recoiled from the fury of Jim's question, and his composure started to crack once again. "We had to! Don't you see? We couldn't save them, couldn't provide for their needs while they were together working against us!"
Jim stayed within inches of Hanson's face, anger continuing to build within him. Sensing the evil in the man, he wanted to overcome that evil and fill the man with his rage. Holding the man's eyes in the grip of his own, he spoke very quietly. "Men first. Take us to the men."
They walked through the cavernous entry hall, then down a side hallway and up some stairs to another hallway, their steps on the tile floors echoing off the block walls. At the end of the second hallway, a guard stood in front of a double steel door.
The guard seemed confused as the group approached him. The pastor was walking strangely, and he didn't know any of the people with him. "Pastor? Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine," Jim said as he walked to within ten feet of the guard and pointed his gun at the guard's face. "Take your gun belt off slowly and put it on the floor."
The guard hesitated at first, but complied and was quickly flex cuffed.
Opening the doors, the group was hit with the stench of unwashed bodies and human waste. Hollow-eyed men stared at them from around the room, some sitting on the floor, some laying down and some staring out the non-opening windows. The room was bare, except for the men themselves and five-gallon buckets that served as toilets.
Jim looked at Hanson. "Where do they sleep?"
"Here," replied Hanson, slowly. "They sleep here."
"I don't see any beds."
"We didn't have any beds," Hanson stammered. "We were working on it. I mean, we were trying to make it as nice as we could for them. For all of our people."
"Where do they eat?"
Hanson started to shrink within himself, beginning to understand the extent of his captor’s anger. "Here," he said, lowering his head. "They eat here."
Jim looked at him for a long minute, then turned to the men in the room. "Can you men walk?"
A general murmur of affirmation came from the group, and those who were sitting or lying down got to their feet.
"Good. Let's go get your families."
Similar scenes awaited them at the women's room, where they secured the sixth guard, and the children's room, in which two of the mothers were currently caring for them. After allowing a few minutes for an emotional reunion of the families, Jim spoke to the group.
"Folks, we're from a place called Stonemont, a bit south of here. From now on, you're free to do what you want, but we have some food for you and will arrange for everyone to get cleaned up and get some fresh clothes. After that, you can all decide whether you'd like to come with us or take off on your own. We'll get you to the food in a minute, but first there's something I want to see and think you might too."
He turned to Hanson. "Take us to your family quarters, and the guards' too."
Hanson looked dazed, unable to process the sudden change in his position or imagine what his future might now be. With a lethargic nod, he led off slowly.
After several turns, they came to a hallway carpeted in red and adorned with rich brocade wallpaper. A velvet rope spanned the entrance, a small gold placard hanging from it indicating "Private".
Jim unhooked the rope from one wall and let it fall on the floor, kicking it to the side. As they walked toward the large double wooden doors at the end of the hallway, they looked at dozens of professionally taken photographs of Hanson, some by himself, some with his family and some with famous religious and political leaders, but always smiling. Hanson had taken the classic "Me wall" and extended it to a "Me hall", obviously meant to impress those he welcomed into his private domain, and probably to feed his ego as he left and returned to it each day.
Jim stopped the group, seeing that many of the former members were following them. Looking around at the pictures, he spotted one of Hanson alone, his smile even bigger than normal. The plaque on the base of the frame indicated that the church had just reached five thousand members and Hanson had been declared pastor of the year by some national group. A pair of doors in a recessed alcove appeared to their left.
"What's in here?" Jim asked Hanson.
"Our, I mean the dining room. It's where the guards stay."
"Stayed," Jim corrected. "You have a key?"
Hanson bowed his head. "In my
pocket."
Christian reached into Hanson's pants pocket and came out with a small ring of keys. "Which one?"
"The one with a zero on it."
"Appropriate," said Christian, finding the key and unlocking the door.
They entered a large room dominated by a massive dining table surrounded by eighteen richly upholstered chairs. Covering the table were boxes and cans of food stacked several feet high. Along the walls were cots on which the guards had slept, separated by more stacks of food and cases of water.
Jim turned to Hanson. "Well, pastor, you certainly were prepared."
"That came from us," said a voice from the back. A man came pushing through the crowd angrily. "We brought that."
A general grumble through the crowd agreed with the man and he continued. "When we came to the church after the power went out, pastor said we should bring all our food in to the church. Something about bringing everything into the storehouse and claiming God's promise to provide for us in return."
"Has he been rationing this out?" asked Jim.
The man gave a scornful laugh. "If you call it that. We got peanut butter on crackers and a cup of water in the morning and the same at night. If we worked during the day, we got a granola bar for lunch. I don't know about the women and kids."
"We got the same," said a woman. "The kids got dry cereal for breakfast and peanut butter on crackers for dinner."
Jim looked at the food and at the crowd, then raised his hands to quiet the chatter. "Folks, we're going to take a little break. We'll divvy up this food later, but for now come on in and get a bottle of water and something to eat. And make sure the kids get a candy bar or something. They deserve something special."
He turned to Christian. "Go out and help Josh bring the live ones in here."
Christian nodded and left.
11
The rain had started before dawn and showed no sign of letting up. He had hated rain when he was younger, as it always seemed to get in the way of life. Now, he liked it. He had come to recognize and appreciate it for what it was, a life sustaining process that not only provided the water necessary for the growth of the food they ate, but an enforced break in the otherwise constant activity of life. He had learned from the animals who stayed in their shelters when it rained, and now when it rained he retreated to his office, to think about things that had happened and plan for things that might, and sometimes just relax.
