00 Foreword and Prologue

 

Foreword

When I first started writing Paradise books, I was struck by the things that I didn’t know. I made every effort to make it clear when I was inventing something; and to make as little of the plot depend on my own ideas as possible. (With mixed success.)

The Bible is a living document. Jehovah’s Witnesses put out huge amounts of study material, and are always digging deeper into the Scriptures for revelations and a greater understanding. As I’m not part of the Organization (beyond being a lifelong Witness myself), I’ve always feared that some new understanding would make my books totally inaccurate. Given how much I had to invent, some inaccuracies were inevitable; but something big? Something relevant? Something vital to the ‘universe’ I’ve put together?

Well, it finally happened. At an Annual Meeting, the Governing Body announced a new understanding that has brought relief, and joy to many of our brothers and sisters… and made several of my books inaccurate.

For many years, the understanding was that the Start of Tribulation would be the end of the ‘harvest’; and nobody would be saved afterwards. That understanding has been revised; which meant my books had to be too.

The books with the previous understanding have been published, and in print long enough that there’s no going back; which means we can only go forward. In fact, the new understandings are the main reason this book got written.

There are multiple books where I have written Tribulation sequences. In almost all of them, I’ve explored different possibilities of what the Witnesses might do in response. For this story, the goal is to bring my ‘current continuity’ more in line with the latest Teachings. This story is all about the most unlikely people to ‘come to God’ during the most difficult circumstances.

Rahab was the perfect person to compare that modern storyline to. If anyone was going to side with Jehovah, from a City full of false worship, under threat of invasion; who would have expected a local Prostitute to be proven righteous by her works?

There are going to be several places where things are a little different from my previous works in this series. I will make it clear when those new understandings are relevant, and where to find the source material.

Prologue

~/*\~ Iyara ~/*\~

Iyara heard the trumpets blow before anyone else; but she didn’t know what they meant at the time.

She and her father were down by the river, gathering reeds. They had enough uses to always be in demand, and Arjun was a skilled enough craftsman to fashion them in several ways. As stylus’ for the scribes, as little flutes for the children, as papyrus for writing. His wares were always in demand.

“None of it will last for long, you know.” Iyara pointed out, as she brought the scythe low to the water, cutting the reeds away gently. “You’ve seen how the kids use their toy flutes, and any reed stylus will crack after writing for too long.”

“Repeat business.” Her father excused, not concerned with that. “After all, everyone needs such things, if only for a day. And the reeds grow quickly by the water’s edge. I won’t soon run out of material.”

“Neither will anyone else.” Iyara objected. “The Jordan River stretches far enough for everyone to get reeds of their own.”

“Yes, but they don’t.” Arjun countered. “They don’t pay me for the papyrus or the flutes, my dear. They pay because they don’t want to take on the time and hassle of working these reeds into the actual products they need. It can take days to make a proper papyrus scroll. Days of work and care. They pay for my time.” He didn’t seem worried. “And I, in turn, pay the farmers for their time. In town, I can afford food without having to run a farm of my own.”

Iyara said nothing to that, but inwardly, she knew his time was worth less than hers would be, once she started working in the Temples. But for now, Arjun was her father, which meant she helped him gather the reeds.

“Remember to be gentle with the stalks!” He called sharply as she grasped a handful of reeds.

“I know, I know.” She said, bored from long repetition. “Don’t disrupt the roots. Leave the plant growing. You tell me every time.” She drew the hand-scythe smoothly across the stalks, severing them cleanly. Her father had fallen silent, taking the boredom in her tone as a rebuke for the work itself. She knew that he wanted her to take up his trade. Such a future was unusual for a woman, even in a progressive modern society like the City of Adam, but he kept pushing her to do that, or find a respectable husband.

She was about to casually bring up the matter of her own plans for the future, when she heard something. It felt like a musical note, but she could barely hear it. It seemed to come with the wind. She looked out across the Jordan River. Out of sight from the western side, there was a haze that seemed to linger in one spot. “Does the wasteland seem more… crowded today?”

“Has been for days.” Her father nodded. “The City Leaders say they’ve taken up residence on the far side of the Jordan, and haven’t moved from that spot in days.”

“Planning to cross?” Iyara asked, worried.

“They never have before.” Her father never seemed worried. By anything. “The Priests say that the Hebrews are in mourning. Someone important to them must have died. They’ll stay there until their mourning is over, and then they’ll move on.”

“Are you sure?” Iyara wavered.

“When I was younger than you are, I asked my father the same question.” Arjun smiled gently, looking out over the waters with her. “They came right to the border when I was a child. There were rumors that when they escaped Egypt, they crossed the Red Sea, and the waters stood upright for them to pass through.” He bent and resumed his work. “And then, when they came to our border, about to cross into Canaan… they just turned around and went the other way. They’ve spent my entire lifetime walking in circles out in the wilderness.” He told her firmly. “Their death god has been inflicting more misery on his own followers than anything we could do on a battlefield. How they survived this long, I will never understand.”

“Maybe they didn’t.” Iyara offered. “Maybe they’re all dead already. If there’s nothing to eat, and no water to drink, and they’ve done nothing but walk around in the wastelands for decades, maybe they’re… not even living people anymore.”

Arjun had no answer to that. “And it doesn’t matter. If they stay on that side of the River, there’s nothing to be done.” Her father poked her side. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you stopped working.”

Iyara sighed, and bent down beside him, cutting at the reeds again. “Doesn’t Bodhir normally help you with this?”

“Yes, but you know it’s always easier to work with more hands.”

Iyara took a breath. “Well.” She began carefully. “In another year, I plan to join the Templ-”

“No.” Her father said flatly.

“Hear me out-”

“We’ve been talking about this for three years. Have you got a reason you haven’t tried before?”

“That wasn’t ‘talking’. That was me giving you my carefully thought out reasons, and you saying ‘no’, over and over without any explanation.”

“I’m your father. The word ‘no’ is all I have to say.”

“But why?” Iyara demanded. She could hear the whine in her voice, and she felt like a child again. “You’ve never said why. It’s a perfectly respectable job. Certainly more-” She stopped herself.

“More than a craftsman, making papyrus?” Her father finished for her, and she knew she’d lost the argument. Even if he already knew it. Even if she apologized. Even if she grovelled, she’d never get his permission.

Another year, and I won’t need his permission. She told herself silently. But I don’t want it to be like this. Looking over the river, Iyara pointed; changing the subject. “There are boats on the River. They could be from… from them.”

“They’ve spent decades in the wasteland. If they could scrape together some boats and rafts, they could carry, at most; a few dozen people per crossing, before they had to go back for the next lot of people. We may not have an army of millions, but we could probably handle that.”

~/*\~

As they walked back to the city of Adam, Iyara ran through the usual procedure in her head, every time they’d had this argument before. Their ongoing disagreement over her future as a Temple Priestess was familiar enough that she knew what would happen next, as though it was a well rehearsed dance. She knew he’d say no, but never give her a good reason. He would respond by trying to arrange a marriage for her to someone who wouldn’t let her become a Priestess, or even a Temple Concubine. She knew the marriages he arranged would be honest enough, but she genuinely felt nothing for any of the suitors.

Even as she tried to summon anger at her situation, she knew she could never be angry at Arjun. He never forced her into any of the matches that had been offered.

He would arrange another introduction. She would refuse whoever it was; and he would be the loving father by not pushing her into it. They would agree not to talk about it again. Until the next time she brought it up.

The ‘dance steps’ were clear to her, so she searched for an alternative. “I can take the next delivery to Jericho.”

Her father looked at her, surprised. “Oh?”

“I’m old enough to join the caravan now. Old enough to travel on my own.”

Her father let out a deep sigh. “Yes, you are.” He admitted. He sounded truly miserable at the prospect. So much that Iyara wanted to laugh at his dramatics. A moment later, she realized what she was thinking, and stepped closer, giving him a sideways hug as they walked. “I’m coming right back.” She promised him. “Yes, I want to see my sister. No, I’m not going to run away. I promise.”

~/*\~

Her mother and brother brought supplies for the journey. Her mother fussed at her, and quietly got some of the others making the journey to promise they’d watch out for her on the road. Bodhir arrived soon after with the newly finished load of papyrus, ready for sale.

“The scrolls of papyrus in this satchel are the product of father and I working for days, around the clock.” Bodhir told her. “Making papyrus is a labor-intensive process; and it can’t be rushed. So my point is, don’t treat this satchel like you treat the rest of my things when I’m not looking.”

Iyara stuck out her tongue at him, but she knew he was right. This was her first trip without her father, which meant the family business with Jericho was on her shoulders at the moment.

Sasah took the satchel from Bodhir and put it over Iyara’s shoulder. “Remember, your sister is running her own business now. Try to be helpful, or at least not in the way.”

“Yes, mother.” Iyara sighed, setting her jaw. I love you too.

~/*\~ Cherry ~/*\~

(Click) “...despite assurances of support from the government, farmers are forced to admit that their crops have not survived the unseasonal storms. In related news, the United Nations has released a new report on which Climate Triggers have already been passed; and which ones require further study. Moving to local news, police are seeking help from the public to help them locate two missing children. It’s believed they were taken from their front lawn by a man known to the Police, and suspected in several other cases of-”

With a groan, Cherry forced herself upright, crossed the room with her eyes closed, and hit the button that turned off the news app. Blessed silence.

Eyes still closed, she stuck the phone in her pocket, and padded to the bathroom. She finally opened her eyes properly when she started brushing her teeth. “Don’t look at me like that.” She told her reflection. “You sleep through the other alarm apps. You put the phone charger on the other side of the room so that you’d have to get out of bed to make the newsfeed shut up. Avoiding the headlines is the best reason to get out of bed you’ve ever found.”

Her reflection still looked glum. Cherry finished her morning routine and went out to see if there was anything edible left in the kitchenette. There hasn’t been a news headline that affected you personally in months. She told herself. Just bad things happening in the world. Down at your level, it’s just another day.

~/*\~

“The landlord left a notice.” Gail said as she came out to the stairwell.

Cherry winced. “Don’t tell me that.” She moaned to her neighbor. “In fact, I’m going back into my apartment, and coming back out again. And you’re going to say any other words to me.”

“Understood.” Gail nodded agreeably, not looking away from the building notice board, where a new note ‘From the Management’ had indeed been posted.

Cherry went back into her apartment, waited a few seconds, and came back out. “Morning, Neighbor.” She said brightly. “How are things in the world?”

“He’s raising the rent.” Gail reported.

Cherry deflated. “That’s not better.”

“I know.” Gail gestured at the announcement. There was a printout taped to every landing on the staircase, at every level in the building. “Norbert is trying to sell the dump. Raising the rent makes it a more attractive money-maker for other buyers. But no refurb, no renovations, no repairs; until after the sale. The notice says that if he sells, it’ll be part of the ‘terms and conditions’ that we can all stay, as long as we can make our rent.”

“Which just went up without warning, for no reason other than to give Norbert more profit.” Cherry hissed. “There’s gotta be someone we can complain to.”

Gail scoffed. “If you call a cop and say ‘the landlord is a scumbag’, they’ll laugh. If our host calls the same cop and says we need to be evicted over unpaid rent, they’ll come and drag us out. The Powers That Be are always powerless to help us; but never to hurt us. Know why?”

“Because the landlord isn’t actually committing a crime?” Cherry guessed.

“I was gonna say ‘because that’s how it always is’, but your answer isn’t wrong either.” Gail admitted. “The Tennant’s association is calling for a meeting tonight.”

“I gotta work.” Cherry shook her head. “Will you be there?”

“I will.” Gail promised. “I’ll take notes if any of them can actually do anything but whine about how unfair it is.”

Cherry sighed, and headed out of the building. Just another day.

~/*\~

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

If you enjoyed this story, please share it with others.

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

Coming Soon: "After The Fall"

 

COMING SOON

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.”

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

If you enjoyed this story, please share it with others.

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

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.

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

If you enjoyed this story, please share it with others.

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