“Yeah, well. They were David’s mighty men. Scripture records them by name and family. There were many. Among them were thirty that stood above the rest. Then there were three above them. Then, although not counted among the three, there was the chief of the three. The deeds of the thirty, the three, and the chief set them apart, along with King David, of course.”
“Yes, Waltz, I said I remember.”
“Well, their descendants continued to be the Mighty long after King David passed. They continued to serve the Lord. For their faithfulness and continued service, the Lord gave them various abilities, all of which fell into one of three classes: warrior class, priest class, and prophet class, symbolizing the Son of God—prophet, priest, and king.”
“Let me guess—warrior class has unique fighting abilities, prophet class speaks for God, and priest class works to keep the others in communion with God.”
“Well, it’s not quite that simple. As Christians, we can all speak with God through Christ, so it’s not exactly like that. But you’re close. Warrior is simplest to explain. These have the ability to be great strategists, and yes, most often have some enhanced fighting abilities, such as strength, agility, and speed. Priests often act as shields, protecting the group from corruption, almost like a grounded center. They can also have a sense of when evil is present. In general, they desire to protect people. Prophets point the direction for the group. Their abilities focus on seeing what others can’t, interpreting what is seen and heard, and they can often have other situational abilities that come and go as needed, like when Moses parted the Red Sea.”
“Wait, seeing . . . Are you saying I’m a prophet? This is a little crazy, all of it!” Stephen pushed himself from the counter and began pacing the floor.
“I know it sounds that way. I assure you, however, it’s the truth. Take a moment. You’ll have questions. I’ll answer them as best I can, one by one.” Waltz observed Stephen, wondering what his first question would be. Stephen’s eyes moved back and forth, as though searching for something.
Stephen stopped and looked at Waltz. “You said descendants?”
Waltz’s heart sank. This was the one question that he thought would be most important to Stephen. It also happened to be the one question he could not answer.
“My parents were members of the Mighty?”
“Yes. As far as we know, one of them had to be. Usually it’s only one, and the father. Most abilities are only passed through the male line. The female may have an ability, but it’s usually the male that passes them along. And it is rare for Mighty families to intermarry.”
“So, you don’t know who my parents are?”
Bernie spoke. “We don’t. We weren’t even aware of your ability until recently.”
Waltz looked sternly at Bernie for a moment before turning back to Stephen.
“Okay, what was that about?” Stephen looked back and forth between the two.
Bernie spoke again. “Well, it’s a ‘too many cooks’ thing.”
“No. Waltz should have told me sooner and didn’t. So, go ahead.” Stephen glared at Waltz. Waltz understood that Stephen must have felt betrayed, but he knew in his heart he had done the right thing.
“Maybe you did the right thing or maybe not,” Stephen directed at Waltz. “Time will tell.” Stephen turned back to Bernie. “Go on, Unc.”
Bernie looked over at Waltz and waited. Waltz gave a nod and Bernie continued. “Well, the truth is, we aren’t one hundred percent certain you’re one of the Mighty.”
“Then what?” Stephen’s voice trembled.
“Well, sometimes, Mighty go bad. Those that do fall from their ranks are counted among Fallen, a group that has taken up the cause of fallen angels. They fall for any number of reasons. Ain’t one of ’em good reasons. But they fall nonetheless.”
“As far as we know,” Waltz interjected, “their children have never had abilities, none like yours. They are masters at deception and manipulation. Any abilities Fallen children have are used to deceive others. They are intelligent and ruthless. But no abilities like the Mighty.”
“As far as we know—” Bernie stated.
“Wait, you’re saying my parents could have been Fallen? That’s just great.” Stephen started pacing the kitchen. Waltz could see Stephen felt anxious but wondered what was going on in his mind.
“It’s not likely. The children of Fallen that I’ve met have been different from others, as if they don’t fit in with ordinary kids. As they grow up, they don’t fit into society like normal people.”
He stopped and turned toward Waltz. “When were you going to tell me?”
Waltz answered matter-of-factly. “Today.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I had just discussed it with Bernie. I needed to know you were ready.”
“Ready? How so?”
“We’ve been working on your mental control lately, which centers on controlling your emotions, allowing you to use them to fuel the gift, not to weaken your body. Some of your ability is tied very closely to how you’re feeling or remember feeling at a particular moment.”
Waltz got up and walked over to Stephen, wanting to console him. He placed his hand on Stephen’s shoulder, which Stephen shrugged off. “My boy, I knew all this would stir some deep-rooted feelings and hit you hard. It would anyone. Your ability is a very unique and powerful gift. If you weren’t able to control it properly, well, you could have done some real damage. You only just broke through the barrier that kept you from moving forward.”
“You mean I could have hurt you guys?”
Bernie laughed. “No, boy! You may very well be more powerful than these two old men. But we have enough experience to withstand a lot.”
“Stephen.” Waltz waited for Stephen to look at him. “There are innocent people in this house whose minds you could have destroyed with the wrong thought and without control of your emotions. You would not have known it until it was too late. Control is very important. If you’ll focus hard enough, you’ll find you can hear the thoughts of everyone else in the house at once, all twenty-eight others.”
Stephen looked away for a moment, then nodded in agreement. “They’re all asleep.”
“And without control, they could all have been hurt. Your emotions have been key. Whenever you’re emotions have been heightened, your gift hasn’t worked right, has it?”
Stephen shook his head, and stood there for a moment, looking at the two of them.
“Stephen, I needed to make sure you could handle this information and your gift before I told you. It would have devastated you if more were injured because of your gift.
Stephen turned and headed back into the living room. “You should have told me sooner, Waltz.”
“You’re probably right,” Waltz said softly.
Stephen closed the door behind him. Waltz sat back down on his stool to finish his cocoa. Neither said much else, but they finished their drinks before saying good night.
Chapter 3
The sun shone brightly, only occasionally blocked by a wandering cloud. A cool breeze blew from the north and seemed to be rolling off the Mississippi. Stephen pulled his windbreaker tighter around his neck, following Waltz. He could hear the excitement of kids and adults alike looking up at the grand arch that towered high above. A scent of spring carried on the breeze amid the surrounding gardens that had begun to bud and bloom, followed by the aroma of chargrilled meat from a nearby restaurant. Sidewalks were filling up with suits and shoppers heading to lunch, some taking a break from work and others eating before Friday shopping.
Stephen had a hard time keeping his mind on his training. He couldn’t help but wonder about the conversation that took place in their kitchen a week ago. What if my parents were members of Fallen? What would that say about me?
“I’m ready, Daddy,” he heard a little girl exclaim. I’m really scared! What if we get stuck up there? Stephen looked around to see her, pink jacket and pigtails.
So often what
people said and thought were very different. Stephen had learned that over the years. It made him want to distrust everyone. People were so untruthful with others, even themselves. How could he trust them?
“What do you hear?” Waltz paused for a moment before continuing. “Did you hear the little girl that just walked by?”
“I did,” Stephen replied.
“She looked scared.” Waltz continued. “But she said she was ready. What’s the truth?”
“She’s terrified—afraid of getting stuck at the top.”
“Why do you think she said she was ready?”
Stephen turned toward Waltz, who faced into the breeze alongside Stephen. “I don’t know. Does it really matter?”
“Of course it matters. Why we do the things we do matters about as much as what we do. You have trust issues. With your gift, it’s easy to understand why. You get to see the worst humanity has to offer over and over, until you begin to feel like you are the worst of humanity. So, I’ll ask again.” Waltz turned his head toward Stephen. “Why did she say she was ready? You have her emotions, not just in that moment but the moments afterward. What happened next?”
Stephen thought for a moment. He had heard something else. What was it?Stephen turned his head back toward Waltz with excitement. “She was trying to be brave for her dad.”
“Go on. What else?”
Stephen continued. “She knew how much her dad wanted to go and how much he wanted her to be with him. She enjoys making him happy. She was terrified but wanted to be brave for him.”
“Is that all?”
Stephen paused as excitement turned to sadness. “No. He’s sick and she knows it. I don’t think she knows how sick though. He has cancer, doesn’t he?”
“He does. This will be their last family trip before he takes a turn for the worst. She’ll be glad she conquered her fear in time. She’ll give him a great gift before the end. She really isn’t ready to go up that elevator. But she is ready to face her fear for him. Soon, she will be at the top of that arch, scared to death and in awe of the view.”
“So, I should ease up on people? Is that the point?”
“Yeah, you should. You’re kind of judgmental and have a tendency to come down hard on others and yourself.” Waltz nodded back toward the city, and they began to walk. “This place is filled with people who do and think horrible things. But most people will never know this because they don’t have your gift. They have to trust. And they get by just fine. We are all flawed. Your gift makes it hard for you to get close to someone. Still, you need to understand that the intent matters. You’ll have to learn to be a judge of people, in a way, just as the prophets of old were.”
“That’s why I get the emotions too, not just the thoughts.” It finally began to make sense to him. Stephen had noticed many times that people’s words, thoughts, and emotions would differ from one another, never giving it much thought until now. “So, I can judge between them, to help in my actions and decisions.”
“Well, less judging and more understanding. I don’t think you were given the gift to be judgmental, but to understand.”
“Okay. But what good is understanding if you don’t take action? We’ve seen a lot these past couple of months, and you’ve had me sit by and watch, not intervene. What’s the point?”
“Son, I want you to understand what actions do and don’t need to be taken. Your answer has always been force. Either you want to force your will on someone or use someone else to force your will. I’m not saying that there isn’t a time and place for that. However, that should be the exception, not the rule.”
“Hmph. All this training and waiting—it’s useless,” Stephen sulked. He hadn’t really shouted at Waltz since he’d come back, but he considered it. He felt a gentle hand on his arm but pulled away.
“Stephen.”
He started walking through City Park, surrounded by sculptures.
“Stephen.” Walt said louder than before.
He stopped. He hadn’t been yelled at since he’d come back either. Stephen turned to see Waltz standing with his hands high on his hips. It reminded him of his childhood, how Waltz looked when he got mad at him and Bernard.
“Don’t be like this sculpture over here. Yeah, it’s a beautifully sculpted large head. But it’s hollow. You have a grand gift, meant for so much more than you now realize.”
“Oh, yeah? Now you’re saying I’m mindless!”
“The way you want to use your gift is!” Waltz retorted. “Think back one moment to that little girl. You were in the moment, in her head. What drew you to her? Why did you pick her out to focus on? Think back, before you were fully in her head. What did you hear? What did you feel?”
“What’s the point, Waltz? Just tell me.” Stephen thought he was ready for the next step. He knew he was. This seemed a waste of his time, and it only kept him from doing what he felt needed to be done.
“Humor me!” Waltz said gently. Stephen heard the pleading in Waltz’s voice.
“Alright, alright!” Stephen closed his eyes and went back to the memory. Concentrating, he heard the crowd as though he stood there again. He sorted through an array of emotions, all of which seemed quite ordinary. People were excited, bored, sad, happy, distraught.
Then, it was there, the thing that had drawn him. He barely noticed it at first. He strained, amplifying his ability. His palms became sweaty. Happiness and fear coexisted in the little girl. Still, he sensed something else. He had missed it earlier. A little sadness and accomplishment. The girl had accomplished something. But what? She hadn’t gone up the arch yet. He strained harder. The feeling was deep and strong. Even the little girl didn’t yet understand the significance. But there it was.
Stephen opened his eyes. “I thought she didn’t know.”
“She doesn’t,” Waltz stated plainly.
“I see. But she understands. She, deep inside, understands that something has been wrong with her dad. She wants to make him happy. They’d been there before, and she couldn’t do it. They came back today so she could make him proud. She understands this could be her last chance. Somehow, she knows he needs this day as much as she does.”
“Yes, this memory, this day—this is the way she will remember him long after he is gone. Do you understand now?”
“I think so. I’m just tired of waiting, of not doing anything.” Stephen sat on a bench. Waltz walked over and sat next to him.
“You misunderstand me. I want you to do something, just as that little girl did. You need to do something, but not just anything will do. It must be the right thing.”
As they walked back home quietly, Stephen thought about Waltz’s words. The little girl’s actions were small but so brave and selfless. How many times had he been selfish in his actions, wanting to be the hero, like in the Batman movies? But those were only movies, and this was real life. Maybe it was a little more complicated than going out and just beating up people until you’ve beaten up that single right person. Maybe his powers were also meant for smaller daily impacts that might have a profound impact on others and the world around them. Maybe, like the little girl, he should look beyond the concerns of his own parents and focus on what needed to be done.
****
“Stephen, let’s go!” Stephen heard Waltz through the bathroom door, but continued to drag a bit. He couldn’t get the little girl out of his head from a couple of days earlier. His desire was to be selfish and focus on who his parents might have been. He’d spent most of his life wanting to belong but feeling as though he didn’t. These new questions concerning his lineage only compounded his feelings of loneliness. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his parents might not be the most important thing to learn now.
I need to focus on and be in the moment.
Waltz yelled again. “Boy, hurry up!”
Well, I’d like to be in some other moment!
“Almost done! I’m coming!” Stephen opened the door and stepped out into the hall. He was wearing
a plain black V-neck T-shirt, with blue jeans and black leather boots. “I’m ready, but I’m not dressing up! I trimmed my stubble and brushed my hair. I’m done.”
“Fine, fine. Now grab your jacket and come on!”
“Waltz, I get having responsibilities,” Stephen said as he struggled with his leather jacket. “I didn’t expect to stay here for free, you know. I help here at the mission. I’ve been walking around with you downtown, handing out needed items and stuff. I think I do a heck of a job. I even enjoy the landscaping. But why church?”
“We help with the lunch for the homeless afterward.”
“I can show up afterward, then,” Stephen said as he stopped at the bottom of the porch steps. Waltz made it to the sidewalk, where he stopped too before turning back toward Stephen.
“My boy, you’re lost, in more ways than one. I’ve been working with you on this gift. Truth is, if you don’t find God, not a thing I teach you will help.”
Stephen heard Bernie locking the door behind him. “How do you feel, Uncle Bernie? You’ve never been too vocal about God and Christ.”
“How do I feel? Boy, I feel like you better listen to ol’ Waltz there. He’s done a lot for you. Pay him some respect.” Bernie walked on past Stephen and Waltz, heading toward the church.
“What if I don’t, Waltz? What if I don’t find Jesus?” Stephen asked. “What then?”
“You’ll eventually become a Fallen.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you? Do you really think I’d go bad?”
The two walked down the sidewalk, Bernie several steps ahead. “Stephen, you remember Friday’s lesson?” Waltz asked. “The little girl?”
Stephen nodded.
“You’ll learn to use your abilities to understand people, what makes them tick, how we’re all intertwined and relate to one another. Likewise, you need to go to church to learn and understand faith. It isn’t just about God and a person. It’s about people, a family, a community, and trusting something you can’t control. We all play our part, just like the Mighty. Each member has his own gift. It all ties in, you see? Without it, faith, you are without hope.”
Chronicles of Stephen BoxSet Page 4
