Epilogue

 

Josef opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. The first thing he felt was confusion. This room was unknown to him.

Elisa was there beside him, with tears in her eyes. Her face looked different than he remembered, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. It had been almost a month since he’d seen her last. Has she dyed her hair?

“W-what happened?” Josef asked, confused.

“Something wonderful.” His daughter assured him, giving him a tight hug. “Welcome back, father. I’ve been looking forward to this for so long!”

Josef wasn’t sure what was happening, but he hugged his daughter back automatically. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

She burst out laughing into his shoulder. “Yes, you are.”

~~/*\~~

Elisa had become a Witness in the Old World, when she’d grown up enough to take her studies seriously. Josef had refused to join, his experiences making him bitter towards God, and generally agnostic. He wasn’t the only one to lose his faith in the War.

Finding them both in Paradise, exactly as Elisa had shown him from her Bible Studies, Josef was having to make some apologies, given the way he’d always turned her away on this subject in the past.

“I never objected to you discovering a new faith.” Josef said carefully. “And certainly, it seemed to bring you some comfort. I make it a point to never begrudge anyone finding a way to cope with… well, evil.”

“A position that didn’t change for almost thirty years; no matter what I said.” Elisa nodded. “And now?”

“I don’t know. It seems wrong that after a lifetime of refusing to listen to you talk about Him, God would raise me from the dead in Paradise.” Josef objected. “If I get the same life in Paradise that you do, after I spend years ignoring you, and you spend years working faithfully, how is that fair?”

“It’s not a reward, it’s forgiveness.” Elisa countered lightly. “But you’re here. Alive. I should demand an explanation?” She shrugged, unconcerned. “A lot of people are getting surprises from the Returning. People we never expected are getting second chances. What can I say? Beyond everything else, God needs to be compassionate and merciful. A world ruled by a cruel God is what we had last time we were alive.”

“We?” Josef pounced on the word.

“Old age got me, some years after it got you, dad.” She didn’t seem concerned. “And now we’re both here. Together.”

~~/*\~~

That topic of conversation came up several times as Elisa taught her father about this new world they lived in.

Josef had been given a place to stay while more permanent accommodation could be arranged. Apparently, temporary housing was common, as many people were on the move. Communal meals were laid out every day, and the food was plentiful.

Josef had died of old age in a retirement home. His body hadn’t felt so healthy and vital in decades, and he found himself walking the streets at night, just to be moving. There was a totally different feel in the air, and in his bones. He couldn’t quite define it, but the ‘spirit’ of the world had changed. Everything felt lighter, and easier. He was meeting new people every day, and somehow making friends, which had never been the easiest of skills for him. Everyone had a story to tell. When they found out his own, their reactions surprised him. Here, in this world, survivors were spoken of with honor, even a measure of reverence.

That morning, Elisa had brought a guest to join their studies over lunch. He seemed middle-eastern. Wearing clothing that was hard to place. Outfits and personal style and grooming were a product of culture and background, and the whole spectrum of humanity was Returning at a rate of thousands per day.

Josef made his face a little warmer and more welcoming than he usually did when meeting a stranger. He knew Elisa had surely married at some point, but not everyone returned to their original spouses after Resurrection. He wasn’t sure who this man was, but his daughter was introducing them now for a reason.

“Have a nice walk?” Elisa asked, by way of greeting.

“Very nice, thank you.” Josef agreed. “The neighborhood seems to be designed for people who have never been here before. There are maps and information spots all over town. It’s all but impossible to get lost.” his smile faltered a fraction. “I barely recognize anything I’m looking at, of course; but I can always find my way around all the confusing things.”

“This world is dealing with the Generation Gap of all time. It’s not just new and modern things being built. We’re rebuilding plenty of ancient things for the sake of our newly returned brothers and sisters. Some meeting halls are designed in the same style as Ancient Greek auditoriums, since a lot of Returned ones got their education in such places.” Elisa smiled, and just for a second, he could see his little girl again. “That’s part of the reason why I wanted to introduce you to Emet.”

The newcomer nodded to Josef, extending a hand. “My name is Emet, son of Takarut. I was part of the ‘Exile’ generation, wandering for forty years in the wilderness. Nowadays, I'm both a cautionary tale, and a professional source of reassurance.” He shrugged, smiling despite himself. “Apparently, it’s the job I was born to do.”

Josef shook his hand automatically, and froze when he heard that introduction. “The Exile generation?”

Emet nodded. “I wasn’t sure what I had to offer this world, to be honest; but I’ve been there before. When I was young, there was a time when I never really cared about going into the Promised Land. It was too different from what I had spent my whole life with. It was hard to picture a reason why any of us needed to make the effort, when we could just… leave things as they were. But God wanted us all to have a land flowing with milk and honey, because God knew there were better things ahead, even if His people had no concept of what it might be.”

Elisa nodded to Emet, gesturing at her father like he was a museum exhibit. “After the war, I spent some time in a refugee camp with other children. The whole world, especially our slice of it, was an orphanage for a long time.” She gestured at Josef. “I found my father eventually, but there were kids in that orphanage who were six or seven years old… They’d never known a world without war. They honestly didn’t know the world could exist without rationing, or recruiters dragging people away on the spot to ‘join the fight’. Some of the girls had no idea what fresh fruit was, or meat, or dairy.”

“Neither did I.” Emet put in.

“I felt so old, after the War.” Elisa admitted, turning back to her father. “I was a dinosaur, trying to convince young people that the world was better ‘back before’. Or that it could be again, after.”

“Trying to reassure yourself that life could be better than the best you’d had for your whole life.” Emet put in. “Yeah, I went through some of that too.”

“The whole world is undergoing that transition now, dad.” Elisa told her father seriously. “I spent a lifetime trying to convince you that Good was as powerful as Evil. Now I have the proof. Evil has been broken, and the world is being turned into a Paradise. Old Age and sickness have been abolished. You have been raised from your grave.”

“It doesn’t feel real.” Josef nearly moaned.

“And why would it?” Emet said agreeably. “Billions of people, across thousands of years, have lived their entire lives without realizing that the world they lived in going all the way back to their ancestors was not ‘normal’. The world we both lived out a lifetime in was never what God planned for His Kingdom. Just like the little children who thought War was normal life, we all thought that getting older, having to work hard to avoid starvation, and just… dealing with the day-to-day strife was just how it would always be.”

“This world is the Real Life, dad.” Elisa said gently. “I’ve lived longer in Paradise now than I ever did back in the ‘Old System’. I’m older than you now, by almost a century. I can tell you: No matter how hard we fought for what we got, no matter how hard the struggle, it was all just… prologue. The real life starts now.”

“Amen to that.”

Josef turned, and burst out laughing when he saw Oskar and Matheo coming to join them.

~~/*\~~

A few years passed. Josef had met his extended family, with generations from both directions being present. He’d been baptized as a follower of Jehovah, unable to refute the evidence of his own eyes forever. Everyone in his extended family came. Some wondered if he’d put it off until his wife had been returned, just so she could be there for it.

The day after the ceremony, they all gathered for a meal. Such gatherings were common now. Everyone was reconnecting with old friends, new family members, and Returnees from all across time. The oddest families and social circles were forming, as people discovered those with similar stories, or similar interests.

In fact, such social groups were forming so fast, and so naturally, that Oskar found himself wondering if ‘someone’ was helping it along, pulling people together.

Josef called his extended family together for a celebration of his initiation. As the host, he led the group in prayer over the food. Such events were common now. The table was almost thirty feet long, both sides lined with people, and a huge selection of dishes and servings filling every space inch of the table.

Josef looked at the table full of plenty in awe. He hadn’t missed a meal since his Returning, but he’d come to the brink of starvation, and been held there for multiple years. Deliberately. He knew there was enough to go around, but there had always been, even in the Old System.

The thought made him smile again, and he stood up. Everyone paused their own conversations and gave him attention.

“Before we ask God’s blessing on the meal, I wanted to say thank you.” Josef said. “Most of you only knew me briefly back in the old days, if at all. My daughter, in particular, was far more patient with me than I would have been in her place. You’ve all heard me say it: The evils we faced were personal, while the promises we were told to cling to were far too general.”

There were murmurs as everyone agreed, remembering the conversation they’d all had with him at some point.

“At the time, I thought of Paradise like a politician’s promise: Telling you that the world would be better, but it’s not like any of it is meant for you personally.” He looked down, embarrassed by it now. “You all think that what convinced me were the ‘personal’ blessings, like seeing my family again, or having my health restored.” Josef said, smiling over at his family. “But really, what made me a believer was… I realized that all those ‘general’ promises I disdained? They were as personal as anything else. Just because they were made, personally, to billions of people, it doesn’t change the fact that all of them were promises God made to me, even when I was ignoring them.”

“Any in particular come to mind?” Matheo asked with a wry grin.

Josef gave him a coy smile. They both knew the answer to that one. But he didn’t have to say it, and instead he bowed his head, leading the whole table in prayer.

~~/*\~~

Dinner lasted for hours. When they’d eaten their fill, they broke up into conversations, everyone sharing the news. There was always something new and joyful to talk about.

Everyone took their moment to congratulate Josef on his baptism, but it was clear there was a second group forming around him. They were his contemporaries from his time in OS.

The party went late into the night, and there were plenty of places for visitors to stay until morning. Half the world seemed to be on the move, seeing more, or assisting in various regions of the growing Paradise Earth. As a result, everyone was willing to stay later than they usually would, delighted to see the other guests.

As the party wound down, and everyone turned in or made their goodbyes, the select members of the group quietly let themselves out of the party, at Josef’s quiet invitation. With drinks in hand, and a few snacks in their pockets, they wandered towards the edge of town. It was a new community, far from the collapsed cities of the Old System. Josef’s home had been built in a beautiful spot, with a view of the mountains.

And now, as the sunset lit up the hillsides, Josef led Matheo, Oskar, and their wives and daughters up the hillside. It was a slow walk, completely unrushed.

Josef led them up the hill until they had a nice view of the growing town, spread out below them. “This hillside used to be a graveyard, where soldiers were left behind.” Josef said, giving everyone a look. “Not our war, of course.”

“There were thousands of them.” Matheo nodded, but the darkness had lifted from his tone.

“By the time our generation came along, this whole area and its wars were all but forgotten. Nature had built over the whole thing, and the empires of Man had started again, somewhere else.” Josef explained. “But this whole hillside used to have catacombs running underneath it. Multiple levels, all made of skeletons and bones, because they were packed in so tightly, there was nothing else to build from.”

Flora let out a low whistle. “I wonder sometimes, how we’ll break up the history books now. Back in OS, it was all ‘Pre-War’ or ‘Post-War’. We based our personal timelines according to how close we were to which fight.”

“Not just us.” Oskar offered. “Economies, empires, nations… Everything was remade by every war we ever fought.”

“Emet says that In Bible times, generations were marked by leadership, or generations. The Judges, the Kings, the Prophets.” Elisa smiled a bit. “We don’t have that kind of ‘disruption’ anymore. Our ‘Generation’ will last forever.”

Sentimental silence, as they looked over the town. The sunset crept up the mountainside as the sun went down, and the stars above came out, one by one. Down below them, the lights lit up, every house, every street. Whole generations, keeping away the dark.

After a long, reflective silence, Josef started to speak. When he heard the words, Oskar joined in almost right away. Matheo soon after. The translation was so… pure, now; with all language and communication barriers destroyed. The words invoked a meaning that the old translations could only give shadows of. But they all knew the words by heart. What had been a promise to hold onto had become a personal blessing to share with family.

“And many people will go and say: ‘Come, let us go up to the mountain of Jehovah, to the house of the God of Jacob. He will instruct us about his ways, and we will walk in his paths’. For law will go out of Zion, and the word of Jehovah out of Jerusalem. He will render judgment among the nations, and set matters straight respecting many peoples. They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning shears. Nation will not lift up sword against nation, nor will they learn war anymore.”

“Not any more. Not ever again.” Someone said fervently. “Amen.”

“Amen.”

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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Chapter 12: How Many Miracles?

 

“They’ve seen us! They’re coming around!”

There was a moment where he felt completely weightless, like he’d floated up from the cot, and then there was warmth. Soft, gentle warmth from a sunny day.

Oskar took a deep breath, easier than he’d been able to breathe for a long time, and his eyes opened automatically. Blue sky overhead, so vibrant that the colors didn’t seem real.

Something was different inside him, but he couldn’t tell what it was. It took a full few moments to realize he felt… good. No pain, no hunger, no chills, no fever. He sat up, feeling grass beneath him. His body moved easily. No pain in the limbs, or weakness in the muscles. He felt like he could get up and run a marathon.

“DAD!” He was suddenly hit full-tackle, back into the grass by something moving so fast he barely registered it before being knocked flat.

He responded the only way he knew how, and rolled, forcing his attacker over onto the grass beside him. Only then did he get a proper look at her. She looked familiar. “-wait.” He croaked without thinking and held her out at arms-length, getting a proper look. “Flora?”

She had tears rolling down her unfamiliar face. “Yeah. It’s me.”

“You’re…” Oskar was breathing hard, stuck in brainlock. “You’re so big! You’re-”

She was an adult. A grown woman, with a mature face, and streaks of grey in her hair. The youthful vitality and energy didn’t quite mesh with her apparent age, but it was the only thing that was immediately recognizable as his teenage daughter.

“How long was I in that camp?” He heard himself mumble.

“The rest of your life, old friend.”

Oskar looked, tearing his eyes away from Flora to see a face that he recognized. It was Matheo, but the older man seemed younger than Oskar could ever remember seeing him. The distinguished grey had faded, skin becoming healthier, but it was unmistakably him.

And then it hit him. Where he was. How he must have gotten there.

As Flora threw her arms around him again, Oskar broke down weeping on her shoulder, hugging his daughter tightly against him.

~~/*\~~

He wasn’t sure how long it had gone on, but by the time he and Flora had both cried themselves out, Matheo had set up a picnic for them. “There aren’t a lot of set rules for this kind of thing, but almost all of us welcome someone back with a meal.” Matheo reported. “The ‘Returning’ is almost always done in a private spot, and they’re always met by someone. We figure it’s to get past the initial shock before you get inundated with people wanting to welcome you back.”

Flora nodded. “And there will be a party later, with you as the guest of honor. People are coming back all over the place.”

“I’m still trying to convince myself this isn’t just a really intense dream.” Oskar murmured. “What if I wake up, and I’m still in the Camp?”

Matheo laughed grimly. “Perish the thought. Though I admit, when the Camp was liberated, I had the same fear for a few days. Recovery took a while.” He sighed, looking at Oskar, alive and well. His daughter was still clutching at his hand, unwilling to be parted. “You almost made it, brother. You came so close. A day later, we were rescued.” He opened the picnic basket, and tossed Oskar a fruit.

Oskar caught it automatically, and froze when he realized what it was. He clasped the orange in his hand like it held all the treasures of the world. He put it to his nose, breathed the scent in deeply. He thought he had no tears left, but somehow more came. “I don’t know why I’m blubbering like this. Took less than two days to get my eyes clear in the Camp.” He drew in another deep smell of the orange. “For me, that was ten minutes ago. Literally.”

“Funny thing, isn’t it? You cry out all the tears that pain can give you, but happiness is like an untapped spring.” Matheo agreed knowingly.

Oskar sank his fingers into the orange and ripped it apart, the juices flowing over his fingers as he ate. The citrus flavor exploded into his mouth. It was so fresh, so juicy, and so flavorful that Oskar wondered if he’d ever really tasted an orange before. He ate eagerly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

After getting himself back under control, Oskar looked at his daughter again, now an adult. “So. How long? Ten years? Fifteen?”

Flora winced. “Longer than that.” She said quietly. “A lot longer.”

~~/*\~~

Flora and Matheo spent a day giving Oskar the broad points. They’d led him on a walk through the village, close to the town where they’d all lived together. It had changed dramatically, but the scenery hadn't. The mountains were still the same, and the stars at night were right where they’d always been. Now that he thought about it, it was easier to see the stars. The air seemed cleaner than he could ever remember it being.

“There have been… changes to the way towns are built over the years, back in the Old Days.” Flora said lightly as they walked through the streets of their old town. “Nowadays, the whole world is building homes for Returnees.”

“The early Returning is devoted to people who were followers of Jehovah, though there are some isolated exceptions. We get notice in advance of who is coming, and when. Some people are predicted to arrive years in advance. Usually, we find out a few days ahead.” Matheo explained. “The hard part, so far at least, is overlap.”

“Overlap between what?” Oskar asked.

“People who all want to live back at their old ‘home’. In some parts of the world, that’s nearly fifty generations, you go back far enough.” Flora told him. “We were lucky. Our village was more or less untouched until the borders were drawn. There’s only a few generations of people who can claim to live on our old street.”

“Was anything left?” Oskar asked, a little afraid of the answer.

“Of what?” Flora asked, before memory caught up. “Oh, after the war, you mean? The ‘front’ didn’t exactly sweep through our town. But the damage was done. Scrap drives picked the houses so bare that a good gust of wind could have finished the job.”

Matheo grinned. “Besides, that was over a century ago. You think it held together that long?”

“No.” Oskar admitted. “And if I’m honest, it was getting hard to remember what the old street looked like.”

“We’ve rebuilt, then torn down, then rebuilt again. Such is the story of humanity.” Flora said easily. “You’ll like the place we’ve got ready for you, dad. I designed it for you myself.”

Oskar didn’t really know how to respond. His daughter had grown up, and become something of a philosopher, it seemed. To say nothing of designing houses.

~~/*\~~

The graffiti was gone.

That was the first thing Oskar noticed. The tags on the walls were gone. The streets were clean. The town centre had been rebuilt, with totally different buildings, and a totally different marketplace, but that wasn’t what made it feel ‘new’.

There were gardens and living things planted in carefully cultivated boxes along the streets. Most of them were flowers, with herbs ringing the edges of the public gardens, giving the street a fresh, vaguely flavorful scent, as though he was feasting while he walked.

When they reached the house, he looked it over carefully. It was a modest family home, modernized in a way he couldn’t really define. It was clear Flora had designed it for him, and meant it to invoke her memories of her childhood house.

Matheo stayed close, as she eagerly hurried up the front path to let them all in. “When I came back to my house after the Camp, I walked around inside it for an hour like I was trying to remember where I’d seen it before.”

Oskar nodded. “You tell me it’s been more than a century since I’ve walked these streets. I felt that way when the War was on, let alone now.” He gestured at the horizon. “Those mountains are the only thing that haven’t changed completely.”

~~/*\~~

“This is all for me?” Oskar was taken aback by the apparent luxury. After the rough, almost painful touch of the camp uniforms, the camp walls, and threadbare blankets; the comfortable chairs and thick mattress seemed almost indecent. After being so enthused for a few loose Bible pages, having a new Bible and a shelf full of literature, to say nothing of hundreds of movies and a television screen as large as his old kitchen table, seemed like something too fantastic to be real.

To say nothing of the feast that was laid out.

~~/*\~~

They kept the first night small. Matheo and Flora were the two closest contacts he’d had in the world.

Flora answered the first question he had on the topic before he could ask. “Mama isn’t back yet. Matheo and I had a bet on which of you would come back first. We’re still working out the pattern, but now that you’re here, it’s likely that mama will be back soon too.”

“Good.” Oskar said immediately. “As much as I wish she was here now… in truth, part of me is still waiting to wake up.”

Flora’s device chimed, and she checked it. Oskar’s eyes were usually locked on the small rectangular shape when one was in use. He’d never seen such a thing before. Flora glanced up at Matheo. “It’s Emil. I have to take this.” She excused herself, slipping out of the room.

“We’ll get you a device like that in the morning.” Matheo said quietly. “They’re designed to be… intuitive. Remember, we’re trying to teach people about the world. People from all across history. Back in your time, people still sent telegrams. But we’ve got people from Bible Times coming back too. In their opinion, pens and lightbulbs are the most important inventions ever, let alone the Internet.”

“I don’t know what that word means.”

“Neither did I, when I Returned. Neither did Flora, when she came back, decades before me.” Matheo offered. “Everything is new. Even the ancient things.”

“Every time someone gives me the answer to a question, I have three more things I don’t understand.” Oskar confessed. “I understand now why the first part of Paradise is a ‘Thousand Year Kingdom’ under Christ. It’ll take at least that long for me to figure out how everything works.”

“You, and everyone else who has ever lived.” Matheo agreed. “We’re only just getting a sense of how big a job it’ll be. There are sides to the ‘Restoration’ that our generation never considered.”

Oskar nodded. He could hear his daughter speaking outside. He couldn’t make out the words, but the tone of her voice was unmistakable. “Who’s she talking to? Who’s Emil?”

Matheo’s face changed as he laid out another incredible revelation. “He’s… your great-great-grandson.”

Oskar felt the room spin. He sank his face into his hands and burst out laughing.

“Roll with the punches, brother.” Matheo laughed along. “I had the same reaction when I came back.”

~~/*\~~

Oskar had been told that his grandchildren, now adults with families of their own, were on their way to meet him. The Returning was well underway, and a standard protocol for the event was coming together. But people were not all the same.

Oskar recognized the gathering as a meeting, but not an official one. There were about twenty people there, from all different time periods. A few of them were dressed in the sackcloth robes of Bible times. Others in period clothing that would fit in during the Medieval times. They were all seated in a rough circle, out in nature, under the trees. It was a soothing, lovely spot.

Matheo led the meeting. “We’ve got people from all across the timeline here.” He said kindly. “But most of us have one thing in common: We’ve come through times of incredible trials. Some of us survived war, some of us went through inquisition. Others through years of exile.” He took a breath. “And of course, a lot of us didn’t survive.” He gestured around the group. “But all of us went through our trials for the same reason. Because our faith demanded we hold fast. The world now is run by an organization that welcomes people of faith into a universal family.” Matheo smirked. “Some of us aren’t ready for that yet.”

A bitter chuckle went around the room.

“No judgment.” Matheo assured them. “The world is crowded with people who are enthusiastic to meet newcomers. Some people equate that with danger, due to life experience. We understand that. Certainly God does. Some of us have been back for a few weeks, some for a few months. We’re all here to learn the parts we missed.” He made introductions. “For those of you who haven’t met Oskar, he was a brother from my time. We were in the Camps together, during the Second World War.”

One of the men in Medieval garb nodded to Oskar respectfully. “I’ve heard horror stories about that time.”

“Thankfully, I missed some of the worst.” Oskar said humbly, returning the half-bow. “I’ve heard similar tales about the Inquisitions. The Lollards were remembered with honor, sir.”

It broke the ice, and Oskar felt the tone of the room shift, recognizing Oskar as ‘one of them’. He wondered what some of these people had gone through in the name of Jehovah.

“None of this is a competition, of course.” Matheo commented. “But we all know the truth, about a life of faith: Servants of Jehovah have never had a life of ease and comfort. We all know the way to survive.” He pulled out his Device and turned to the scriptures. “Rejoice in the hope. Endure under tribulation. Persevere in prayer.”

“Rejoice in the hope.” Oskar said quietly. “The hope of seeing this world, right here where we’re standing.” He almost laughed. “I’ve spent so long thinking of it as ‘something in the future’, that the idea of living it in now, let alone forever…”

“Well, we earned it.” Matheo said plainly. “We all know that you don’t get eternal life by being ‘good enough’. Good deeds don’t earn you a longer lifespan. But we proved ourselves faithful under test. God has been waiting for this world longer than all of us put together, specifically so that His children get to live without fear.

~~/*\~~

Weeks passed. The world population was relatively small, and Oskar had been treated to all kinds of video footage, showing him the highlights of the past century or two. “I keep thinking about what Jesus said, about how the Tribulation was worse than anything that had come before it. If it was worse than the War, then I’m glad I missed it.”

“I missed it too. I don’t know how much worse it got, but it was global. That alone would have made it worse.” Matheo told him. “Funny thing, but ten years after the war, there were people romanticising it. All the ‘heroic stories’, the ‘spirit of the blitz’, that sort of thing...”

Oskar scoffed, shaking his head.

“I wasn’t there, but I’ve met people who survived Tribulation, and they all say the same thing: The world had given up on hope and was just trying to get through their lives, day by day. People know what time I’m from, and they ask me how we could stand by and let our country get like that. The answer is the same as any other time in history: People don’t know when they’re living through major historical events, they’re just trying to keep food on the table and their kids safe.”

“And then one day someone asks you to sign a piece of paper.” Oskar nodded.

Matheo reacted to that far more seriously than Oskar expected. “I remember back when we were in the Camp, you said that some stands you have to make. And it’s not because you’ll win, or even because it’ll make a difference.” He had tears brimming in his eyes. “Sometimes, you have to be able to look back on your life and say: ‘I said ‘no’.”

“I remember.” Oskar nodded.

“Well, that was nearly a century ago for me. And you know what? I’ve been waiting for all those years to tell you: You were right. Every Witness in our generation had to make that choice before one national authority or another. Every Witness alive at Tribulation had to make that choice with all the world against them. Brothers at all points had to make that choice in some way. Whether to support an election, or fight in a war, or stay on a Church Membership, or defy a family tradition, or even just going out to watch a violent movie.” He gestured back at the construction site. “Right now, the world is full of Survivors and Gold Letters. The only people in the world are the ones who made that choice.”

“And Ignaz? Where is he now?” Oskar challenged quietly.

Matheo winced. “He showed up at the first meeting after the war, and he straight up grovelled. He was fighting back tears at every meeting for months. He made no secret of the fact that life outside the Camp wasn’t exactly blissful.” He gestured around. “He hasn’t been returned yet, but there’s plenty of Paradise still to come. We don’t really understand the order of the Returning. Not yet, anyway.” He let out a breath between his teeth. “Still. He’s not the only one who crossed his own moral lines to survive the War. It’s easy to judge, but it’s hard to be angry.”

“Mm.” Oskar murmured. “I wonder what will happen if Konstantin shows up one day.”

“Who?” Matheo blinked, and then memory caught up. “Oh. Right. Man, I haven’t thought about him in a long, long time.”

Oskar couldn’t help but laugh.

“Dad!” Flora called from a distance, running up to them. In her hand was a gold-colored envelope. Flora was outright sprinting towards them, the sheer glee on her face making her look like a kid again.

“Your wife?” Matheo guessed.

“I think so.” Oskar said, already tearing up. “God, how many miracles can you heap on one person?”

Matheo laughed warmly at that, as Flora slammed into her father’s hug, overjoyed.

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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Chapter 11: Swords Into Plowshares

 

~~/*\~~ Matheo ~~/*\~~

The Convention was bigger than anything Flora had ever seen before. The attendance was larger than the population of her hometown, and all of them were brothers and sisters.

After years of living in secret, it was overwhelming to be so open.

Though it had been years since the war ended, for most of Europe, it had been a timewarp. Rebuilding the large sections of the world that had been reduced to ruins took a long time, but it felt like the war was still such a recent thing.

And in the heart of Germany, in the very same venue where a now-dead dictator had sworn their extermination, the Witnesses were holding a convention.

~~/*\~~

Matheo didn’t often talk about that part of his life, but he couldn’t refuse the invitation to address the Convention. The War was over, but the scars still remained for most people. Almost everyone had lost at least one relative. As the losing side, most of them had lost a lot more than that. There was a feeling of defeat that filled the country. Alongside it was the relief. They’d survived the largest armed conflict in human history. The front had moved through their streets, back and forth, and they weren’t dead.

All that was left was guilt. The War had been an ugly mirror to some people, showing them how they acted when their backs were against the wall. Most of the general public had survived by keeping their heads down and doing as they were told.

Which is why the open joyfulness at the Convention was so jarring, compared to everything else they’d had at home.

~~/*\~~

“It seems strange, telling the story now.” Matheo admitted. “After a few weeks, you started to forget ‘normal life’. The only thing we did was survive. The only goal we had was to keep waiting. It wasn’t a race. We didn’t cross a finish line. It wasn’t a thrilling adventure.”

Dead silence from the audience. People who had survived such traumas were usually revered by others, but nobody wanted to interrupt or make light of what had happened.

“And that’s okay.” Matheo continued. “Not all stories are going to have exciting happy endings. These things happened, and they were hard, and we did what we could to make the best of it. But our great victory for Jehovah wasn’t in fighting back, or proving anyone wrong. It was in our endurance. The joy is in knowing it’s over now. The hope… That comes from knowing that even the brothers we lost have run their race to the finish, and won. It’s not a happy story. It doesn’t have to be. There are going to be days when Satan is putting us under the gun. There’s no way to make that a feel-good story, but we’ll be telling it for the rest of our lives. The rest of eternity, in fact. Something that our oppressors couldn’t say.”

That got a round of applause from the audience.

The Speaker who was interviewing him asked the questions, prearranged in advance of course, but even so, Matheo could see there had been tears in his eyes as he told the story. “Brother, we know this is a heavy topic for you, but if we may ask: What’s the most important thing you learned from the experience?”

Matheo hesitated, knowing the rehearsed answer, but he felt the words changing as he spoke. “I should say that I learned the real meaning of trusting in Jehovah to give us strength, or the power of leaning on your brothers, and being there for them in return. And that’s true enough, of course. He gave me the strength I needed, even when I had to ask for it, minute by minute. The brothers shared everything they had, while others were desperately hoarding to survive.” He licked his lips. “But I think the most valuable thing is this: I’ve learned the value of just holding on.” He spread his hands wide. “Most times of trial and tribulation aren’t huge, aren’t life-threatening. Most days you just have to deal with mundane things that wear away at you. And when you do that every single day, for years; even decades… it can be easy to forget that we’re all just temporary residents in this life. The War is over, and we’re free of the Camps. But the System hasn’t ended, and that means our job hasn’t either. What I’ve learned is that most days, you only have to make it through until tomorrow. Because tomorrow the sun will rise, and maybe this race we’re running will come to a sudden end, or maybe your war will be over. We talk about feeling the ‘Peace of God’ to help us get through the day-to-day stresses, but when that feeling comes in a place like a Prison Camp… I’d love for every brother and sister in the world to have that feeling. But I wouldn’t wish the experience of getting there on anyone else.”

The Speaker nodded. “Even so, I think we can all be thankful to know that our brothers had that help from the Spirit during their trials.”

“And I am thankful to know that God won’t hold it back from His people when their own time of trial comes.” Matheo responded.

The audience burst into applause, loud and long, and Matheo stepped off the stage, feeling his hands shake.

Jehovah God, thank you for Your help. He prayed as he returned to his seat. Giving a talk is something I’ve done many, many times. Talking about the War is something I don’t do at all. Thank you for helping me get through it. He smothered a smile as he sat down next to Flora. She squeezed his hand affectionately without speaking. And thank you for what comes next. I consider it my reward for getting through the interview on stage.

~~/*\~~

Matheo held Flora’s hand to steady her, as she stepped down into the water. The weight of his hand at her back was familiar now, and she was grateful for it as she lay back for her baptism.

She came up and heard people applauding, but the only person she looked to was Matheo, who beamed at her proudly. There was a line backing up behind her. Many people had been waiting for the war to end. But she took the moment to hug him tightly. “I wish Dad could have been here for this.”

“He would have been so proud.” Matheo whispered back. “I certainly am.”

~~/*\~~

Flora didn’t wait for him before starting her own lunch. There was a long line of people getting Baptized that day. Matheo joined her as soon as he could, but every two or three steps, there was someone stopping him to shake his hand, or congratulate him for his endurance. They’d all seen him on stage, and while only a minority stopped to talk, it felt like everyone in the crowd recognized him.

Their numbers had been kept a secret during the time under oppression, even from each other. Very few in the organization knew how to find everyone. With the oppressors gone, and everyone out of hiding, the updated figures were making their way slowly around the organization. The Witnesses were always a minority. Even after thousands of their people had been arrested, they’d almost been ‘lost in the crowd’ as the Nazi’s had butchered millions of people mercilessly.

Even if they hadn’t been counted, officially, their numbers had swelled dramatically under ban. Even if they hadn’t been caught, the resolve of the Congregation had been hardened by the years of threat. They were stronger than ever, and joyful that they had passed the test.

In a nation of people who were trying to shake off the funk of having lost the war, to say nothing of being despised by much of the world, the joyfulness was jarring.

“How do you feel?” Flora asked Matheo as they ate lunch. “You told the audience some things that you didn’t tell me.”

“It’s Strange. Everyone’s so… welcoming. So appreciative.” Matheo said slowly, looking around.

“Isn’t that expected, at a JW convention?” Flora blinked.

“It is, but not anywhere else.” Matheo admitted. “We live in a small town, Flora. When I got out of the Camp, everyone knew me. They knew who I was, what I stood for, and where I had been during the War. Nobody back home would meet my eyes for weeks. Nobody liked to be reminded of what was happening in their neighborhood. They really don’t like being reminded that they survived by doing what they were told; while others didn’t get the option.”

“I never got that kind of treatment.” Flora winced. “I lost my dad, but I never got put in the Camps…”

“Don’t say that like it makes you lesser than us. You had your own war to fight, kid.” Matheo said, not for the first time. “That’s why we’re here. Because we both won.”

“You looked good up there.” Flora offered as he ate. Matheo didn’t respond to that. He was eating his lunch, but she doubted he tasted it. She could see him sliding into a memory.

Flora had known him for years by this point. He had been her legal guardian since the war. He’d been a good father figure, and they’d been good for each other, but she’d heard him crying out in nightmares. Every now and then, his eyes would go dark, and he’d bunch his fists tightly, trying to ward off whatever thought was consuming his mind. She knew not to push. It wasn’t unusual. Many people had such dark turns nowadays.

Going up on stage to speak about his experiences had been something he’d initially been against, but he’d decided to do it anyway, in honor of the brothers that hadn’t survived. After his part on stage ended, it was clear he was barely paying attention to the Program anymore. He hadn’t even seemed aware of his surroundings until the Baptism.

“Matheo!”

Matheo jumped, breath rushing from his lungs, like whatever he’d been thinking about suddenly came to life and pounced on him. Breathing hard, he turned slowly, towards the voice. His eyes were wide with shock. Even fear.

Flora looked too, wondering what had set him off like that.

Josef strolled up to them, with a warm smile on his face. A small girl was beside him, some years younger than Flora. She looked shy, but interested.

Matheo and Josef regarded each other for a long moment, and Flora watched them awkwardly, trying to figure out what was happening.

Without taking his eyes off Josef, Matheo gestured at her. “Josef, this is Flora. Oskar’s daughter. Flora, this is Josef. I don’t believe you’ve ever met him.”

Josef froze, and turned his full attention to Flora, staring into her like he was trying to find something. He looked hard at her for a long time, before nodding, and holding out his hand to her. “Flora. This is… a great pleasure to meet you. I knew your father. He was a good man.”

And that comment put everything into place. How they knew each other. How this man she’d never met must have known her father. Every household in Europe had a story like this. The War’s legacy was still defining the lives of everyone. She knew not to press for details.

The girl beside Josef was still young enough not to be embarrassed by the sudden turn in the conversation. “Nice to meet you both. My father was stunned to see you on stage, sir.”

Matheo turned to the girl like he’d only just noticed her. “Your father?” He looked up at Josef. “She…”

Josef nodded. “This is Elisa. My daughter. Turned out she survived.” He glanced at Flora. “Why don’t you two go for a walk? Matheo and I have much to discuss.”

Flora glanced at Matheo, who nodded agreement. The two of them headed off, leaving Matheo and Josef to take stock of each other for a moment, before the two older men fell into a tight hug. They weren’t exactly friends, but they’d been through the same journey together.

Once the embrace broke, they sat down and started to talk. “So. You took in Oskar’s daughter?”

“It seemed like the thing to do.” Matheo agreed. “Plenty of orphans in the world right now. People are finding new families and homes all over the place.” He nodded. “She saw me in the refugee camp, and came running. When she realized I didn’t have her father with me…” He sighed hard. “It’s good that people can start over, no matter what they’ve had taken from them. It’s not clean, and it’s not easy; but it’s right.”

“It is.” Josef agreed. “I couldn’t believe it when I found out my daughter was alive.”

~~/*\~~

To the casual observer, they could have been sisters, walking around the crowd of people who were enjoying their lunch, having conversations and reunions of their own. The youngest of children stayed close to their parents, or ran and played, shrieking with excitement, regardless of their fine clothes.

“The War was scary.” Elisa said as she walked with Flora. “But really, what I remember most is the boredom.” She tilted her head back, enjoying the sunlight on her face. “I was hidden in a wallspace by a nice older lady who knew my mom. She knew the penalty for hiding Jews, but she didn’t care.” She yawned. “Felt like I spent three years in a coffin, listening to rats and spiders scuttle around in the walls with me. You’d think it was terrifying, but once you get used to it, it’s just… dull. Waiting for something to happen.”

“And when something happened, you were terrified.” Flora guessed.

“Wasn’t any other way to be.” Elisa said, far too cynical for someone so young. “They eventually figured out that her rations meant she had someone else in the house. They searched the house twice, but didn’t find me. So they quartered soldiers with her. She had room, after all, and when the war was getting close to over…”

Flora nodded. “I was looking over my shoulder for the whole war. When they caught my father, I was put with a foster family. But they had secrets of their own, and after about a year, they were taken away too.” She shook her head wryly. “I didn’t even know about it. One day I was at school, and when I came back to their place, they weren’t there. An hour later, I saw the police coming, and I ran out the back door, hopped the backyard fence and hid.”

“What were your foster parents taken for?” Elisa asked, curious.

“Not sure, but I think they were married as a cover. Maybe they adopted me for the same reason, you know?” Flora shrugged. There had been secrets and cover stories in every part of their lives for the duration of the War. “The good thing was, whatever they were doing in their ‘free time’ it left me free for ‘underground’ work of my own. When my ‘foster parents’ were taken, I stayed with other brothers, who hid me in their garage. Whenever I went out, I delivered food and copies of the Watchtower to others in the area.” She nodded to Flora. “Lots of boredom, with moments of terror. Every time I passed one of those uniforms in the street, I thought for sure I was going to be caught.”

“Until I found my ‘hiding place’, I had a few moments like that too.” Elisa agreed. “But I didn’t have to worry. I just had to look scared. They liked that I was scared.” She rolled her eyes. “As long as I trembled helplessly in their presence, they didn’t look twice at me.”

“Yeah, I knew a guy like that. He was in my class, then he joined the Hitler Youth, then they put him in the army. He looked up everyone he didn’t like and made them salute him.” Flora agreed. “Saw him again last week. He couldn’t look at me.” She sighed. “I asked if they wanted me to ‘share my story’ on stage. Matheo says I’m too young to be this used to wartime intrigue.”

“My dad says the same thing.” Elisa nodded. “I don’t think there are any ‘children’ in Germany or Austria anymore. The whole Continent’s an orphanage now.” She flushed, eyes going to her swiftly. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, it’s fine. Besides, it’s true.” Flora waved it off. “Matheo took me in. I think he felt like he owed it to my father, but I’m old enough to be on my own. There are plenty of people in town who didn’t have anyone left to take them in. But it’s been good, having him around.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I found my father was alive.” Elisa agreed, solemn. “We went back to Temple once the war was over.” She shivered. “So many empty seats.”

Flora had the sense not to say anything to that. Their first meetings after the JW Ban was lifted were packed with people. More than there had ever been before.

“I had questions.” Elisa said seriously. “Our Rabbi didn’t survive. Nobody else even knew where to start. You can probably guess the questions I had.”

She nodded. She’d been hearing them all through the War.

“Finally, I asked my father. Why? Where was God during all this?” Elisa said quietly. “And for the first time, he told me all about what went on in the Labor camp.” She reached out and squeezed Flora’s hand. “He told me about your father, too.”

Something suddenly occurred to Flora. “Your father… He brought you here.”

“I asked him to.” Elisa nodded. “I wanted to know where God stood during the war. What would happen now that it was over.” She spread her hands wide. “I come from a culture with a long history of losing faith and then getting it back, as a nation. I wanted to know if that’s what was happening here. My father told me not to ask him anymore.” Elisa shook her head. “And then he suggested I go and talk to Jehovah’s Witnesses. Apparently, he was impressed by your people.”

“That’s… very nice of him.” Flora commented, surprised.

“I started studying. Just the basics, about Good and Evil.” Elisa nodded. “My father didn’t want me to convert to Christianity, but he admitted that Witnesses are not hypocritical and seem to have a ‘special understanding with the universe’. We heard about the Convention, and decided to come for a day.” She smiled. “Papa nearly passed out when he saw Matheo on stage.”

“Matheo was an inch away from deciding not to go through with it.” Flora confided. “Some guys don’t like to talk about it.”

“Neither does Papa.” Elisa agreed. “But he made an exception for this, because I asked him to.”

“And your father? Where does he stand?”

Elisa shook her head. “He’s gone through a nightmare for being Jewish. It’s a race as much as a religion. Maybe moreso, these days. He won’t abandon it now. But he’s decided God isn’t listening, if He’s there at all. Me, I’m not sure. If God has left us to face the consequences of our actions, so be it. He’s done it before, at least to my Rabbi. He says that the point was: God always took us back.”

“And now?” Flora challenged. “What do you think after hearing the Convention Program?”

“It… makes sense, I guess.”

Flora just looked at her.

~~/*\~~

Back at their seats, Matheo and Josef were having a very similar conversation,

“My problem is: Answers like ‘why is there suffering’ make sense for the ‘overall’ problem of evil in the world. But…”

“But the suffering you go through is far less abstract, and about as personal as a punch in the nose?” Matheo summed up helpfully.

“Right.” Josef agreed. “Coming to love God isn’t easy at the best of times, when He’s bigger than the whole wide world. Especially a world that’s just plain evil. And if the scriptures are right, and there’s evil in the world because our ancestors chose to step away from God’s authority, then it means we’re only getting worse with each generation. It means humanity is the problem.”

~~/*\~~

“Even hoping for Paradise, how do you live with people that are just plain rotten?” Elisa asked Flora, wondering the same thing.

Flora took that seriously. “I thought the same thing, when Matheo told me my father didn’t survive.” She admitted. “But Matheo told stories of what my dad did during his imprisonment. How he kept others going in the hardest moments. The scriptures he would quote that gave him hope and courage.” She shivered. “Paradise wasn’t a dream to him. And now that he’s gone, I finally understand why. Because he was happy to hear about a world without war or hunger, but the thing that moved him to tears of joy, even in the Labor Camp?”

Elisa nodded, already knowing. “The idea of seeing your mother again.”

Flora nodded. “You’re right. Suffering is personal. Evil is personal. But so is God. My father knew that. Matheo knows that.” She gestured out at the crowd. “Everyone here came to this convention because they know it too.”

Elisa nodded, tearing up. “I want that.” She said quietly.

~~/*\~~

“I don’t agree.” Josef said seriously. “No disrespect to you, or Oskar’s daughter, or anyone here. But if there is a God, then He owes us an apology, not the other way around.”

“Well. You wouldn’t be the only survivor to think so.” Matheo conceded, not pushing it too hard. “Does your daughter agree?”

“My daughter wants to believe that something Good has the final say over our lives. I want that too, but wanting it doesn’t make it true. It certainly seems like all my life experience is pointing the other way.”

Matheo pulled out his Bible. “I can’t say you’re wrong. But if you think that, why are you here?”

“My daughter asked to come. She met some of your people while they were preaching, and got curious, so she asked what I knew about the ‘Watchtower people’.” He inclined his head to Matheo “I told her the truth. While the Churches of the world were all hanging the swastika like good citizens and recruiting soldiers for every side of the War to kill each other all around the world… The Jehovah’s Witnesses were staying in the Camps, day by day, without compromising on so much as a salute.” He gestured the way the girls had gone. “My daughter is Jewish by birth. If she decides to be Christian by Religion, then so be it. I learned never to judge people for how they keep their souls alive. Everyone found ways to cope with what they went through.” He looked Matheo in the eye. “And the only Christian denomination I’ll accept into my family is yours.”

“Thank you for that.” Matheo said emotionally. He looked down at his Bible, then back up at Josef. “I remember when it was worth our lives to have just a few pages of this book.

“Ignaz was right about one thing. Safest place to keep those words is in your memory.” Josef admitted. “‘And they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruninghooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more’.”

Sentimental silence. Matheo and Josef had both gone somewhere else in their minds for a moment. Josef noticed one or two other people nearby had gone silent while Matheo was reading. The verse had hit them too. Everyone knew what war did.

Josef said nothing for a long moment, but he shook it off. “Sure. I’ll concede that it’s written in the Psalms and all, but so are a lot of things. My people, my culture…. To say nothing of my family, are going to carry the scars of evil for a hundred generations. I fear that the legacy of my people is ‘constant suffering’.”

~~/*\~~ Emet ~~/*\~~

The Jordan River was in a flooding phase. It would take weeks for the waters to retreat.

But the Levites didn’t hesitate. The Priests, carrying the Ark, marched straight to the water, not even slowing their pace as they reached the riverbank. The instant their feet touched the water, the river rumbled. The flow jerked back suddenly, retreating from them.

Assembled with his Tribe, back from the river’s edge, Emet got a quick look of the River, further upstream. Far upriver, the water had stopped flowing forwards, as though it had slammed into an invisible wall, backing up solidly.

Emet rested a hand on one of the scrolls. He’d heard his father speak of the Red Sea ‘standing on end’ often, and while the Jordan wasn’t quite as vast, it ran much faster, and the effect seemed exactly the same.

Jehovah of Armies, Emet prayed. I can’t help but think that my parents would have turned back. Or at least, the people they knew would have. Someone would have insisted we wait for the waters to recede on their own. But the priests of my Generation didn’t even slow their pace.

The Priests Carrying the Ark paused in the middle of the suddenly dry riverbed, and the trumpets sounded. The nation started walking, crossing the river at a steady march. Some of the Levites started to sing songs of praise, and the rest of the assembly quickly picked up the tune, millions of voices shouting in praise.

“We made it, mother.” Emet said aloud. “After generations of slavery, and another generation of exile, somehow we left behind the worst parts of our past, and we made it. That’s the legacy of our people. No matter how long it took, we actually got there.”

~~/*\~~ Flora ~~/*\~~

“Well. Our world is picking up the pieces of a very dark time.” Elisa said quietly. “My father is alive, and so am I. There was a long stretch of my life where that seemed impossible on its own.”

Flora nodded, suddenly feeling tired herself. “We are way too young to be thinking these thoughts.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Elisa agreed. “But I like what I heard here. And my father speaks very highly of Jehovah’s Witnesses. He says he has ‘seen what you’re made of’ and whatever he saw, he found it good.” She shrugged. “I guess… I still have questions.”

“Well. Why don’t you sit with us for the rest of the Program?” Flora asked, brightening. “And if you still have more questions after, you can ask them.”

Elisa smiled, and Flora put her arm in hers. “Let’s go find the adults. They’re helpless without us.”

Elisa laughed, and the two of them headed off together.

~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~

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You can find the whole story available for Purchase in Kindle and Paperback on Amazon.