Sunday 5 September 2021

Chapter Five: The Clear Choice

 ~/*\~ Eleanor ~/*\~

Eleanor was in black. The funeral dress didn't fit that well. She'd attended enough of them in her life, but she didn't want to buy a new outfit for the occasion, inevitable though it was. As they came to the church, Del pulled her a little closer and whispered a warning. "By the way, my grandparents still took it seriously. Expect some pretty heavy rituals."

Eleanor nodded. Sure enough, at the door, she was handed a small candle. The Church was all white stone, with gold plated domes at the top. The stained glass windows were all barred, and the fence out the front was high, due to the neighborhood. Once inside, the artworks and icons were everywhere. Eleanor found she was holding the candle tightly, intimidated by the wealth and sheer volume of intricate art that surrounded them. If the walls and altar weren't made of gold, they were at least painted to invoke the feeling.

The family were at the front, one or two of them sobbing emotionally.

Eleanor found a seat in the third row with Del, and waited for the ceremony to start. It started with the funeral procession, bringing the casket in. The Pallbearers were all church employees, going by their clothes. Del leaned over at her questioning look. "The family didn't have six members who could carry the weight, and it would be inappropriate if it was me, uncle Dale and four strangers. Dale's fuming because the Church added it to the bill at the last minute."

Leading the procession was the priest, waving a censer back and forth, wafting smoke. He was reciting a song, in a language Eleanor didn't speak.

Eleanor found herself staring at the clergyman in his resplendent robes; and suddenly thought of Martine. I can't picture that man standing on a street corner with a Bible, smiling and waiting for people to approach with their questions.

The Priest led the mourners through recitations of the rites and prayers, as well as readings from well-worn books. He was assisted by the Deacon, a sub-deacon, as well as a few others. The robes and outfits they wore were obvious in showing their 'hierarchy'. It was all very… routine. Some of the recitations were in English, others in Latin.

The Priest was talking about how the deceased was now in heaven, and the few family members in attendance started to sob louder. Del shook his head, unimpressed by his family. "If they loved her that much, they would have called at some point."

"Maybe they're just upset at death itself." Eleanor offered, but she noted the reaction. If heaven is waiting, then surely we wouldn't weep over death so much?

During the Latin portions, she found herself gazing over the artworks, which went clear up to the ceiling and over their heads. Del prodded her hand when she started looking straight up, and Eleanor schooled her expression, looking forward. She'd been gazing around like a bored five year old.

The stained glass windows depicted Jesus on the Cross, Satan on a throne, with fire all around…

I'm not Orthodox. Eleanor thought. Does the man who literally waved smoke in my face as he came in think I'm going to hell? What did I do that's deserving of eternal torture? For that matter, if God sends people to hell, why would Satan want to do God's bidding by tormenting people who disagree with God? Isn't disagreement with God Satan's whole thing?

Such thoughts chased her during the whole eulogy, and most of the readings. She didn't know any of the words to the hymns, and didn't know the deceased that well. She'd been in poor health enough to miss the wedding, and Eleanor had met her only once. The only thing for her to think about was the ceremony itself.

After the service, those in the audience lined up to pay respects at the coffin. Eleanor saw people weeping as they laid hands on the wood, or even bent to kiss it. The Priest had drawn a cross on top in some kind of oil…

Jesus himself didn't have any of this. Eleanor thought. I know that for sure now, because I actually read the Bible and checked.

In fact…

Eleanor looked around the Church again and suddenly felt like she could see through it. Servants in Bible times ran the whole spectrum from Kings to Shepherd boys. Some of them were both. But after Christ, his servants in scripture were regular people. Jesus never drank from silver chalices… and they never made up titles like 'reverend' for each other...

~/*\~

"Even the most well meaning faiths talk about 'celebrating someone's life' at a funeral." Martine said gently. "But that means the only way to look is backwards. How do you think God looks at death?"

"I don't know. If I did, I wouldn't be asking." Eleanor said pointedly. Eleanor had poured the whole thing out to Martine over coffee the next morning. Little by little, they had been meeting for things other than Bible studies. Almost without effort, Martine had become a good friend.

Martine smirked, conceding that, and opened her Bible. "Job 14:14." She read. "If a man dies, can he live again? I will wait all the days of my compulsory service until my relief comes." She made sure Eleanor was watching. "Notice what it says in the next verse."

"You will call, and I will answer you. You will long for the work of your hands." Eleanor read it aloud. "O-okay?"

"That longing is everything. There are stories of Jesus being 'moved with pity' over strangers, weeping with friends when they had lost someone. What does that tell you about how God must feel about people who have died? The word that He put in His book to describe how He feels at a funeral?"

"Longing." Eleanor said quietly.

"I'm betting you have at least a few people you'd long to bring back. To see them again? Give them life, and youth, and perfect health; and never ever let them grow old or sick, ever again?"

"One or two." Eleanor sipped her drink. "I was never really religious, but I always thought there had to be something to it for the people who cared. But there I was, in that church… Stand, sit, kneel, stand. I suddenly felt like screaming 'the emperor has no clothes'!"

"The rituals and trappings of a lot of faiths have little to do with scripture." Martine offered. "But they have a lot to do with tradition and history. For a lot of worshipers, it's the same thing."

"I guess so." Eleanor sipped. "But the 'real' part of the whole show seems insane too. If heaven is real, why do we fear death? If hell is real, why does God allow people to do bad at all, if it's predestining people for torment?"

Eleanor smothered a smile. "I think what you're saying is… the things you've learned from the Bible with me make the most sense."

Eleanor fought down her expression. "If you believe in that sort of thing, it would make the most sense." She sipped. "If you believed in that sort of thing."

Martine studied her for a moment. "Y'know, some people study holy books their whole lives while remaining totally agnostic. It's just an intellectual puzzle for them. Like learning how to speak another language, for a country they never intend to visit."

"Mm." Eleanor didn't answer that.

~/*\~ Nomi ~/*\~

"My lord, there's a child here to see you. He says he's your best friend." The smallish attendant was flushed red with embarrassment, even saying the words.

The Chieftain glared at him. "Really. A child?"

"Barely up to your hip, my lord." The attendant was almost shaking. "He says he was invited."

The Chieftain's eyes changed, and he let out a bark of laughter. "Send him in."

The Boy was young looking, with a stringed instrument slung over his shoulder. "Hello."

"Good to see you." The Chieftain said kindly once they were alone. "Interesting choice of appearance."

"When you asked, the others counseled against my coming here." The Boy said, not meeting his eyes. "Too many of our number have come here and never returned. But we've been friends since before the stars were born. I had to come. If only to ask why you left?!"

The Chieftain sighed. "I had hoped that you, of all people, would understand what I'm trying to do here. I celebrated as much as you did when they were made. I was as impressed as you were. But they need us. Directly."

"Don't pretend you stayed out of concern for them. There's a reason we were all created as we are. They weren't made as toys for us to play with."

"They weren't made to do any of this." The Chieftain barked. "The humans have made it pretty clear that they don't want to be as He planned."

"So as long as they don't care, you don't?" The Boy countered. "That's not how we work, you know that."

"They were given dominion over the animals, the birds, the fish, the land…" The Chieftain reasoned. "Their whole society is based around strength and power being the same thing. Doesn't that give us dominion over them? Aren't we the same way?!"

"No!" The Boy insisted passionately. "That's not what we're about at all! You think the only reason Jehovah is worthy of our worship is because He's more powerful than us?"

"I'm not the only one that thinks so."

"If you bring that Snake into this, I am going to become angry with you, brother." The Boy said pointedly.

Heavy silence.

"We sang such joyful songs together." The Boy nodded, and his tone was blatantly mourning. "What happened? Why would you decide to act so selfishly with-"

"I was acting alone." The Chieftain barked over him.

The boy froze. "Meaning?"

"I had a mess to work with, and nothing but shame and scorn from my oldest friends." The Chieftain gestured at The Boy. "Do you have any idea how much easier it would be to get this world in line if you had come with me? You still can."

The Boy stared. "That's what this is? You asked me here because you want me to join you?"

"Do you know what kind of force we would be in the world if we worked together?" The Chieftain asked, almost pleading though he towered over The Boy. "When I came here, there was nothing. Now there's civilization. Not perfect, I grant you, but look at what I'm working with."

"That's not our purpose. We were assured that-"

"That there was a plan, yes. But He won't even tell us what it was." The Chieftain challenged. "Don't pretend you aren't aware of what this place was like before I got here. It was total anarchy, with people murdering each other over scraps-"

"And now it's mainly your sons, killing over whatever pleases them." The Boy challenged.

"There's nothing on Earth worth getting angry about, brother. If they knew how tiny they were in this level of existence, they'd even agree." The Chieftain scoffed.

"So are you here because you're concerned for their leadership, or because they aren't worth caring about?" The Boy snapped. "And what about Noah?"

"What about Noah? Don't tell me you agree with him?" The Chieftain scoffed. "If Jehovah won't tell any of us what His plan to set things right is, why would he leave it in the hands of a human?" The Chieftain held out a hand. "The humans were a mistake. Even God thinks so. The fact that He can make mistakes at all changes everything. His solution to Eden is clearly to leave the humans to kill each other off. If he doesn't care what's happening on Earth, then why shouldn't we get involved? You aren't the only one I invited, brother. You and I have been friends since time began; you can be honest with me: Nobody back home knows what's going to happen, do they?"

"It's not the first time we've had to have faith." The Boy said quietly. He saw the look he was getting in return, and nodded once. "Yes. There is… debate. I haven't seen anything like it before. Everyone's… choosing sides."

(Author's Note: The war in Heaven was a civil war. Angels didn't just happen. They were created. Scripture tells us that they have names, even if we only know a few of them, so they are individuals. When he was on earth, Jesus revealed that he didn't yet know the date of Armageddon. And 1 Peter 1:21 says: 'It was revealed to them that they were ministering, not to themselves, but to you, regarding what has now been announced to you by those who declared the good news to you with holy spirit sent from heaven. Into these very things, angels are desiring to peer.' So we know that the Angels didn't know what the future would hold. Possibly not until the human congregations did. For this scene, I have used the idea that the rebellion in Eden was the origin of rebellion among Angels too.)

"You can still choose yours." The Chieftain said seriously. "We can live forever on this world. A new face whenever we want one, all our knowledge, all our patience. Can you imagine what we could fashion this world into?" He let the thought hang. "We could do it together."

"Is that it? There are a few of us in every other tribe and village, but you're alone here?" The Boy sighed. "Why did He create them, do you think?"

"I don't know, but He made us first. And when he did make life on Earth, the earthworms came before the humans. What does that tell you about the things that matter?"

The Boy thought about that. "If we brought Noah or his sons in here, what would they say if we asked them why they were Created?"

The Chieftain laughed like that was the funniest joke ever told. "Asked them? Why not ask the ants for their opinion on the galaxies while you're at it?"

The Boy turned to leave, then paused at the door. "The world won't last as it is, and He knows that. You're betting an awful lot on the idea that He doesn't care to look in this direction any more."

"What will He do?" The Chieftain countered. "Either His love keeps Him from taking action to stop them, or He doesn't care about Earth anymore. You can't have it both ways."

~/*\~

Nomi looked up to see a small boy wandering up to join them. "Hello." He said, sitting beside them.

Nomi and Shem traded a look, waiting for the other to make introductions. Nomi realized that Shem didn't know who this boy was either. It made her nervous. Her mother's one condition on her friendship with Shem was that the rest of the town could never find out, and now this stranger was sitting between them. "Are you… lost?"

"I was wondering if I could ask a question." The Boy said, far calmer with strangers than anyone so young should be. "In your opinion… Why did Jehovah God make humans?"

Shem smiled a bit. "I'm afraid He didn't include me in His thinking on the matter."

"Me either." The Boy was undeterred. "But why do you think He did it?"

Shem took the question seriously. "I think… I think He created us because then we would exist."

The Boy barely blinked. "Is that all?"

"It's enough." Nomi put in. "My mother weaves garments. I asked her where she got the patterns she weaves; and she told me that she imagined them. Sometimes she couldn't imagine them properly until she put the effort into making her imaginings real."

Shem nodded. "I remember my mother told me once that before she had any children, she wanted to be a mother so much. She could imagine how wonderful it would be to see our first steps, our first words… She said that she loved us before we existed. If my mother can love something that doesn't exist yet, surely God can."

"Most of my friends long for that." Nomi admitted. "We have a longing for families we don't have yet. I must admit, I like the idea that maybe our Maker had a longing for us to be real."

(Author's Note: Study Article 5, in the February 2021 Study Edition of the Watchtower says "Jehovah makes decisions that are in the best interests of others. For example, he decided to create life, not to benefit himself, but to share with us the joy of living." I decided to add that here, because it's important to view Jehovah primarily as a source of love and life, rather than judgment, even in a story about the Flood.)

The Boy seemed very pleased with the answer, and he rose to go.

"You agree?" Nomi couldn't help but ask.

"Doesn't matter." The Boy said with the same smile. "Whatever His thinking was, your own thought came from a place of awe, and respect, and love. I wish… I wish everyone I knew thought the same way. It's a very wonderful idea, that we can be loved before we exist."

"I suppose it is." Nomi agreed, somewhat bewildered by the encounter.

~/*\~

Nomi woke up to the sound of her mother humming a happy tune. Something that wasn't common since her father died. Nomi rubbed the sleep from her eyes and ran a quick mental list of what might make her mother so happy as to be singing to herself over breakfast.

It was true that Nuria had been invited to the Chieftain's Table once or twice. In fact, just the night before, Nomi had been allowed to leave while her mother stayed behind to discuss-

Oh.

Taking a shaky breath, Nomi considered running away until much later, but knew there was no point putting it off. Slipping out of her bedroll, she made her way to her mother's side. "Good morn-"

"He asked!" Nuria all but pounced. "The Chieftain made the offer last night. You're to be Kainan's wife."

Nomi felt her stomach drop again. "Oh."

Nuria regarded her. "Is there any reason why you should look so unhappy?"

"Godsons scare me, mother." Nomi said softly.

"Has he ever been cruel to you?"

"No. But he's been cruel to other people on my behalf."

"When you couldn't risk saying what you wanted to say." Nuria countered. "Isn't that the point?! You're right: Women with Godsons for husbands are at their mercy… But we're already at the mercy of almost everyone else in town."

"Father thought differently." She said quietly. "He told us to take no chances with the Godsons. I don't remember him well, but I remember that. He said to avoid bullies at all costs, and ones with power more than any of them."

"Maybe that's why he's dead." Nuria countered.

Nomi jerked as if she'd been slapped. "Mother!"

Nuria got a very serious look on her face. "Your father had many fine qualities, Nomi. But he did tend to see the world as it should be, instead of how it really was. He couldn't see the rules we had to live by if we wanted to get ahead in the world; and the world ate him up as a result."

Nomi stared at her. "You're saying he was… I thought it was an accident."

"It may have been. But when it happened, nobody shed a tear for him. Nobody was even surprised. He'd refused the requests of several people because he didn't want to enter into deals with people he didn't trust. At the time, I thought your father was too strong a swimmer to have drowned in the river." Nuria said seriously. "You were a child. An accident was easier to deal with; and we were alone. I've done a number of unpleasant things to keep you safe in the years since. But everything I could ever do combined won't equate to the kind of protection, wealth, and home that you'd get by marrying the son of a Chieftain."

Nomi had no answer to that. "I'm… I'm scared of him, mother." Her voice dropped. "He's nicer to me than a lot of the Godsons are to anyone, I admit; but he's so… larger than real life. What happens if he's disappointed in me one day?"

"Then don't disappoint." Nuria said, as though it was easy.

Nomi's heart was pounding so loud she could feel it in her toes. "I… I have to think." She lurched up, and walked for the door. When she got there, she paused, and looked back at Nuria. "Your marriage to father, it was arranged."

Nuria nodded.

"Did you ever really love him?" Nomi asked plaintively. "I mean… is that something you can just choose to happen?"

"I loved you." Nuria said sincerely. "The moment I saw you, I knew I'd do anything to keep you safe, give you the best life." She held out a hand. "Kainan is quite taken with you, beautiful daughter. He'll give you children of your own to love. They will be so beautiful."

Nomi blinked back the sudden emotion. Yes, she wanted to be a mother. She would admit that to herself, but… "I don't know." She said softly.

"Oh, I think you do." Her mother said, solid as a rock. "The Chieftain told me Kainan was getting ready to leave for a week. His father is sending him to lead an expedition southwest, looking for more gold and precious stones. Apparently the City of Enoch values them very highly, and we'd get some good trading done. The Chieftain wants arrangements made while he's gone; so he can give the whole town something to celebrate."

"I have a week to choose?"

"You have a week to make the right choice."

"...I need to think." Nomi said again, and almost fled.

~/*\~

She wanted to talk to her friends, but Anah was the only one she really trusted to be honest with her, and Anah would be unavailable for much of the morning.

Despite all common sense, Nomi had run to the Ark. She didn't approach it. She wasn't really sure why she had gone there, of all places. She suddenly realized just how often she had come to the Ark in recent weeks. She had never intended to make it a regular stop, but away from the town and her mother, Nomi didn't have to be careful about who she was seen with. She could be here just because she wanted to spend time with someone.

She also noticed for the first time that the treeline was in retreat from the Ark. They were still cutting down more of the forest. Did they plant these trees, years ago? Cut down half a forest, plant a thousand seedlings, and work on one while the other grows?

The second she saw Shem stripping lumber, she found her breath. The constant sounds of the animals alone would be enough to give them privacy, though Nomi noticed Shem's usual tasks involved harvesting the forest for the rest of his family to continue working. "Why are the animals here already, if the Ark isn't finished yet?" She asked by way of greeting.

Shem looked over and smiled. "We're building shelters and compartments for each type. Some of these animals we've never seen before. They come by, we know how much space to set aside for them."

"How can you build an Ark for all the animals when you haven't seen them all, and don't know how big they are?"

"We didn't decide how big the Ark should be." Shem reminded her. "But you aren't here to talk about that."

Nomi rubbed her eyes and told him everything. Kainan's courtship, her mother's orders, and what was expected of her now that he'd asked.

"Are you looking for solutions, or for someone to listen?" Shem asked her lightly.

"I don't know. I don't know if it matters either way." Nomi said weakly. "I am… scared. I'm not a child. I'm old enough to be a burden to my mother; who has no security for her own old age; let alone mine. I have no fortune of my own, and I'm older than most of my friends who are married with their own children by now. The only reason I have to say 'no' is that the Godsons are so terrifyingly powerful next to me, and…"

"Nomi." Shem said, and his voice was so warm, and reassuring that she felt a little calmer, just hearing him say her name. "You've talked about security, about wealth, about time. You haven't mentioned happiness once. Not in all the time I've known you, in fact."

Nomi settled, acknowledging that this was true.

"I've made every decision in my adult life according to a promise made to my father." Shem said seriously. "And I have no wife. The point of the flood is that we all start again, and I have nobody to start again with. Not like my father and brothers."

Nomi felt her heart give a solid beat. Is that an invitation?

"I stay, and I try not to think bitterly of any of it." Shem said seriously. "Because I trust Jehovah to deliver on his word. When He started the world, His intention was that everyone be happy and safe forever. And in the sixteen centuries since, nothing that happened according to His will required that we set aside love." He gestured back towards town. "We don't know when it will start. But we know the Ark is getting closer to completion every day. The time will come when it can't be avoided. So I resolved to live every day as though the flood will start tomorrow."

"How can you live like that?" Nomi breathed. "How can you… Back in town, if we lived like that, we'd never make it to tomorrow."

"Has it ever occurred to you that none of them have ever stopped us?" Shem asked suddenly. "We're not hiding what we're doing, or why. We've annoyed some of the more dangerous people around here. It's not like we can move the Ark anywhere safer. Nobody has come to destroy it, or us. I can think of at least three men in your soon-to-be relations that destroy things just for fun. Why has nobody ever attacked us, do you think?"

Nomi bit her lip. "I don't know. My mother can't understand how your father manages to walk through town without being felled by someone."

"My father has been given a purpose. It's the same thing as being given a promise, given the source." Shem said simply. "If my father failed to build the Ark because someone stopped him, then it means flesh and blood overcame Jehovah's purpose."

Nomi stared at him. "You aren't scared of anything, are you?" She was awed at the thought. She'd never met anyone who wasn't afraid. Nobody who wasn't a Godson.

"Fear of Jehovah is the only thing that takes fear away." Shem said easily.

"Your father could refuse." Nomi commented. "And I don't mean to say that he would. I'm just wondering if he has any choice in the matter."

"He could. But why would anyone choose to destroy themselves and their family?" Shem returned. "I know, you think we must be mad to believe any of this, but we do believe it." He gave her an earnest look. "You know there's danger about when you go about your day, and you take precautions. If you knew there was a disaster coming, would you ignore it?"

Nomi had no answer to that, mostly because she thought he was crazy, except he was being logical. "I… should go." She settled on finally.

Shem sighed. "You can only run from this for so long, Nomi. Sooner or later, the flood will come. You sure you want to put it off?"

"What do you expect me to do?" She countered.

Shem took a deep breath. "You could stay." He offered. "When it starts, you could be on the Ark."

"With you?" She asked automatically.

"With us." He shook his head. "I'm not going to force anything, Nomi. It won't be an easy life, at first. If you want a life of comfort and wealth, then go marry Kainan, for so long as it lasts. When it happens, we'll be starting over with our lives, and little else. And if you think we're mad, then your choice is an easy one. But if my father is telling the truth, then the Ark is offering more than your life."

"How so?"

"Because everyone back in town thinks Jehovah God gave up on the world that He worked so hard to make. The Ark is for the only group of people willing to believe that He still cares about us. If you can decide that, then everything else is like trying to hold on to campfire smoke." Shem said seriously. "Things like security for the future? Food, water, shelter… All these things are easy for Him to provide. The Ark is proof of where you stand on the biggest question: Do you trust Him to help you?" He spread his hands wide. "Your mother has clearly decided to reject happiness as a factor in the biggest decision you've been offered so far. I'm betting my whole life on the belief that God will not force me to be sad and alone, because I serve Him."

Nomi almost answered him, before she turned to go back to town.

~/*\~

Talking with Shem hadn't been as helpful as she'd thought. So she spoke to Anah, her closest friend.

"Why do you keep going back to the Ark anyway?" Anah asked her lightly. "They're crazy, thinking the world is doomed."

"In an odd way, that's why." Nomi admitted. "The world's not an easy place, Anah. That family, for all their strangeness, doesn't act like everyone else. And I… I actually feel safe there."

"They think the end of the world is coming." Anah repeated. "If you didn't care about the consequences to anyone, would you be safe company?"

"Nobody cares about the consequences here in town either. Not enough to change them in any way." Nomi shot back. "Noah and his sons may be mad, but at least they're not violent."

"And they're not your mother." Anah countered knowingly.

Nomi was silent for a long moment, caught out. "She's impossible, Anah." She confessed. "Every day, she just keeps on me. Day and night: 'Make a decision, Nomi, don't be a fool'. I actually prefer spending my free time at the Ark, just because they're not hammering me about Kainan."

"Oh, poor Nomi." Anah said with sarcastic fun. "The wealthiest, most powerful suitor in the world is trying to win you over; and everyone thinks it's a good idea. How will you decide?"

Nomi sank into herself. "I know, it should be an easy choice. I just… I don't know."

Anah came over and gave her a hug. "Talk to me. I'm not like your mother. I am your closest friend. I don't have a single happy memory that doesn't have you or Chora in it somewhere, and since she died…"

"I know." Nomi admitted quietly. "Alright. Kainan is everything a woman should want in a husband, but he's a Godson."

"This is reality, Nomi. If you're not a Godson, you're 'little people'."

"I'm not a Godson." Nomi finally got it out. "We're so… nothing to them. I've never heard of one of the holy blood actually building a life with one of the regular people."

"The Chieftain did." Anah smiled a bit. "Are you worried your husband will turn over in his sleep and squash you?"

Nomi couldn't help the small smirk. "The thought occurred." She admitted. "But that's not what's stopping me." She shook her head. "My father always told me to steer well clear of the Godsons. He said they were bullies that took whatever they wanted."

"They are. But most women would rather have one on their side. All the Godsons have a fawning harem of women trying to win favor." Anah agreed. "That's your mother's position, of course." She very carefully kept her expression even.

Nomi had known her too long not to know what that meant. "You don't agree."

Anah sighed. "I've known bullies. My brothers are all bullies. They can't help but be bullies. And being their sister hasn't protected me much. Being Kainan's wife… He's not necessarily a bad one, just because he's bigger than you. But if he is like the other Giants we stay away from in the markets, then marrying Kainan might protect you from the rest of them. Maybe even from everyone else alive. But you can't protect yourself from your husband, Nomi. Who would even try? His father is the Chief."

The sun was going down, and the two of them stretched out on the grass to watch the stars come out, almost without thinking about it. They had done this a thousand times before. The nights were warm enough.

"Not one person has spoken of love." Nomi said softly. "Everyone I know has a very strong opinion on what I should do here, and not one person has spoken of affection, passion, joy. Not one person yet has mentioned love."

Anah had little answer to that.

"The world is obsessed with these things, Anah." Nomi said softly. "Mother demands we make Market Runs every other day, regardless of our food stocks. She's determined to always have more to trade, and when she can't make or gather any more, she just demands more of me, even when we have enough. Every woman I know is determined to land a husband. Every man is obsessed with children. And don't get me wrong, I find these things important, but-"

"But they're all there is to life." Anah agreed. "I know. My father's the same way. Eating, drinking, marrying. It's like there's nothing else for any of us to think about. Nothing that people will care about."

"If Kainan's as obsessed as my mother, then where does that leave me?"

"With Kainan." Anah said simply. "For life."

"That doesn't have to be bad. You've worked at the Chieftain's Lodge more than I have." Nomi said seriously. "I've heard rumors about… what goes on with the women there. I've never asked, and I'm not going to now. But if it was you, would you marry Kainan?"

And just for a second, something flashed across Anah's face. Something Nomi had never seen before. Something she couldn't identify. But an instant later, Anah schooled her expression, and met Nomi's gaze head on. "No." She said seriously. "I wouldn't marry Kainan, no matter how wealthy or protected it made me."

(Author's Note: In early cultures, marriages were often arranged. But the question of how much say Nomi would have is hard to answer, since there's a difference between 'early culture' and 'Pre-Flood culture'. It's entirely possible Nomi would never have a choice in the matter. Being raised by her widowed mother, and the fact that Kainan is one of the Nephilim are factors as well. I wanted Nomi to have a choice, purely to show her thinking, and her value system. Nomi is ruled by her fears, and is looking for security in a wild world. Something we can relate to.)

~/*\~

Nuria looked up from her weaving as Nomi came in. "Where have you been all day?"

Nomi squared her shoulders like she was getting ready for a brawl. "I can't do it. I know you'll kick me out of the family for this, mother… But I can't marry Kainan. I just can't do it."

"Whatever poison Noah and his sons have been pouring in your ear-"

"Shem and I barely speak of Kainan." Nomi cut her off. "This isn't his advice. But I've spoken with my friends, and I've given it a lot of thought-"

"Your friends? You mean Anah?" Her mother tried again. "Anah is looking out for her own future. She's not serving at the Chieftain's Lodge for fun. None of the women there are blind to what it means, getting noticed by-"

"Mother." Nomi said over her firmly. "I have my answer. And I've already sent word to Kainan's father."

Nuria went still. Totally, deathly still. Her face was unreadable. "As you wish." She said finally. "I can't force you."

Nomi was expecting a reaction that would tear the walls down. She'd been preparing herself all afternoon. Politeness wasn't even on the list of ways she was expecting her Mother to respond. "Well. I'm going to bed." She said finally.

~/*\~ Eleanor ~/*\~

The Bible studies had shifted from the coffee shop to the park, but for this conversation, they met at Martine's home. Eleanor was worried that Martine would run into her husband.

"So." Martine said as they finished praying. They always began with a prayer now. "You sure you want to keep going on the advanced stuff? You haven't had all the basics, yet."

"I've watched the videos, I've read your guides, cover to cover. I understand the basics." Eleanor blew past that. "I talk to you because there are things I don't know."

Martine nodded. "Alright then. Daniel is certainly one of the most interesting parts of the Bible. In between the story of his life, and the things he went through, there are passages that would have meant little to Daniel, but everything to us. Turn to Daniel Chapter 2, and verse 28."

Eleanor made a quick search on her device. "But there is a God in the heavens who is a Revealer of secrets, and he has made known to King Nebuchadnezzar what is to happen in the final part of the days. This is your dream, and these are the visions of your head as you lay on your bed."

"So, right away, we know this passage isn't about Daniel's time, but the years that followed, right up until our own future." She glanced at Eleanor. "Because 'the days' haven't reached their end yet."

Eleanor nodded, scribbling notes. "Okay."

For the next half hour, Martine walked Eleanor through the chapter, detailing the rise and fall of world empires, and how the passage described their relative merits, either via strength or wealth. There were a few references to other books of the Bible that made similar promises, even naming future kings directly in some cases.

(Author's Note: For a more in-depth study of Daniel chapter two as a whole, look to 'Daniel's Prophecy, pp. 48-49', published by Jehovah's Witnesses.)

"So, are you following all this?" Martine gestured to Eleanor's notebook, where she was making thorough notes.

"This is mostly a secular history lesson." Eleanor pointed out. "If we were having this conversation a thousand or more years ago, you could claim that it was talking about that time too."

"And what empire would have been in power then?" Martine challenged. "Because you're right. It's a history lesson. Babylon was superseded by Persia, Alexander the Great defeated Persia, and then Greece was taken over by Rome. What do you think defined Rome as an empire?"

"Conquest." Eleanor nodded. "It's been a while since high school history class, but I know that much."

"Rome's invasion of what later became Britain was the set-up for the Anglo-American world empire, which was the dominant power from 1914 on. First UK, then US." Martine picked up her Bible again. "But at the end of the game, it's something else: Read Daniel 2:43 again."

Eleanor did so. "Just as you saw iron mixed with soft clay, they will be mixed with the people; but they will not stick together, one to the other, just as iron does not mix with clay."

"Now look at the rest of this prophecy." Martine directed her. "Images of impervious strength and priceless wealth. Iron and Clay is an image of permanent division that can never be brought together."

Eleanor bit her lip and read the verse again, as if the words would change on a second reading. "Yes." She finally conceded.

"Now, let's talk about this transition for a second." Martine said carefully, unpacking it. "Daniel didn't say it was a 'fifth kingdom'. And the element wasn't replaced with a different metal. It's still iron, but part of it was replaced with something."

Eleanor nodded. "So it's not a new world power, but a change to the Iron one."

Martine smiled, pleased. "Took me ages to get that, and I had someone walking me through it too. Let's look at the verse again: 'Just as you saw iron mixed with soft clay, they will be mixed with the people; but they will not stick together'."

Eleanor studied the words for a moment. Martine fell silent, letting her process. "Mixed with people. Is it talking about… democracy?"

"I've been reading breakdowns of that verse for years." Martine said. "There's never been a point in history where people could demand their say, or replace leaders by popular vote."

"And now?" Eleanor could tell she was going somewhere.

"The last few years, the political powers can't get their people united on anything. Whenever one side in the Anglo-American power wins an election now, the other side immediately declares that they're organizing to prevent their own nation's leadership from attempting or achieving anything." Martine explained. "This prophecy has kicked into a whole other gear, given the state of politics in the world now. So if our interpretation is right, and this Image is a timeline of world powers, doesn't it stand to reason that the last one is talking about today? As in right now?"

(Author's Note: Iron and Clay was once believed to be talking about multiple world governments active at once, but that interpretation was adjusted and revised in 2012. A more up-to-date study can be found in 6/15/2012 Watchtower Article: 'Jehovah Reveals What Must Shortly Take Place.')

"I'm still not entirely sure I believe that foretelling the future itself is possible. I've gotten maybe three specific things that I can point to." Eleanor said. "If I was to predict next week's headlines? I would say: 'Celebrity caught in scandal. Athlete takes drugs. Middle East on the verge of War'." Eleanor shrugged. "If the Bible was going to point to the future, wouldn't it do the same? 'The Rich don't care about the poor, there will be war and greed'…"

"Natural disasters in one place after another? Democracies causing division in world powers? A global preaching campaign?" Martine shot back. "Not everything is universal to human history. Imagine a Pharaoh allowing the kind of political debate we see today. Anyone who spoke that kind of opposition would be put to death immediately."

"Granted, but if God can see the future, why not just give facts and figures?" Eleanor demanded. "Seeing 'wild beasts' and 'great statues' can mean anything."

"No, it can't. It can mean anything appropriate to the metaphor." Martine countered calmly. "Including the truth."

"I'll grant that too, but still…" Eleanor went back to the Bible. "In the days of those kings the God of heaven will set up a kingdom that will never be destroyed. And this kingdom will not be passed on to any other people. It will crush and put an end to all these kingdoms, and it alone will stand forever." She looked up, as if that explained everything. "You're not just asking me to believe in foretelling the future, but that the end of the world is at hand."

"There's a verse that says 'all these things were written beforehand so that we might have hope', or words to that effect." Martine looked up at her. "You're scared of the state of the world. You're worried about what the future holds. I'm not. In fact, I'm barely surprised by it anymore. And yes, I have hope." She gave Eleanor a pointed look. "It's a hope based on the fact that everything the Bible has promised has come true so far. Have you been able to refute it yet?"

Eleanor bit her lip. "I… will give this some careful thought."

~/*\~

The Librarian looked up and smiled at her. "Oh, hello again."

Eleanor turned to him, almost like he was an answer to a prayer. "Hi."

"You look lost, again." He commented with a light chuckle. "What's the question this time? Or are you still trying to work that out?"

"New question. Same subject. Maybe even the same answer." Eleanor admitted ruefully. "I didn't get your name last time."

"Brady." The man introduced himself.

"I'm Eleanor." She returned it. "Brady, I need you to point me in the right direction on something. All these books are on modern history. The world has changed a lot in the last hundred years. But right now, I need to know if it's just a bump."

"If… what is a bump?"

"These last ten years… the world has gone… how shall I put this politely? &$^#% insane." Eleanor said delicately. "The homeless people in my shelter used to break into street fights over drugs or liquor, even over food and a warm place to sleep, occasionally. I've never seen them go at it over sports. One of my neighbors dumped her husband of seventeen years and demanded a divorce over who he voted for in the last election. There was a story in the news this morning about a woman getting stabbed to death for cutting in line at a bank."

"I know. I admit, I don't understand the world anymore either." Brady confessed.

Eleanor turned back to the bookshelf. "I need a book that can tell me if this is normal, and we're finally noticing it, or if the time bomb really is set to explode right now, more than any other point in history. The world is on the boil, and I need to know if this is just how it is, or if the world is fundamentally different now than it was ten years ago."

"That's a question that depends entirely on what standard of measurement you're using." Brady said seriously. "For example, if you mean 'organically', then humans haven't changed much anywhere in the historical record, but the world has lost more than half its living things since the Industrial Age. If you mean 'militarily', then we've seen the progression from bolt action rifles to ICBM's in less than two generations. If you mean-"

"I mean humans, as a people. Are we worse, as a species now than we were before?"

"Now? Hard to tell. History will make its own judgments about us as a generation." Brady said. "But it sure feels that way, doesn't it?"

"It does feel that way. I want to know if it actually is that way."

"If you look for it, there's still plenty of stories about selfless people making an effort to do good for their neighbors."

"Yeah, but the bad stuff you don't have to go looking for. In fact, you couldn't escape it if your life depended on it." Eleanor argued, feeling desperation creep in. "If a million people are blatantly being selfish, and one person is being generous, isn't that… I don't even know how to say it."

"A 'net loss' for the world?" Brady supplied.

Eleanor nodded. "The vast majority of people just want their lives to be a little easier, and if everyone had it better, that works too. Would the human race, as a whole, really refuse to improve the world if it meant other people had to matter as much as them?"

"Ordinarily, I'd say 'no'. The 'silent majority' have always been marked by their desire to just go about their lives, even as circumstances came against them."

Brady was still arguing an abstraction, as though this was a discussion between philosophy students. Eleanor moved him onto a more direct question. "Alright, let me put this to you: What would it take, to make the world fundamentally better? I mean, from the ground up?"

"From the ground up? Very little. Historically, the world has followed leadership. You want to improve things, it has to be from the top down. You get someone with compassion in charge, his direct subordinates feel safe to be compassionate to their people in turn. You get someone strict and demanding in charge, and his followers have to be equally strict, because if they fail to follow their master's lead, then they themselves are at risk."

"Leadership." Eleanor rubbed her eyes. "The last decade or so has proven that much, I suppose. Why sovereignty really matters."

"Sovereignty?" Brady repeated. "I'm not sure I follow."

"A conversation I've recently had with a friend." Eleanor excused. "So, if the world is in the grip of chaotic powers, then the world becomes chaotic."

"Makes sense, doesn't it?" Brady shrugged. "I remember reading a quote from JFK, talking about Winston Churchill. He said that Churchill could 'mobilize the English language, and send it into battle'. If you want to see a comparison of what leadership can do, consider the Second World War. Hitler was paranoid, desperate for loyalty, and totally without mercy. So was most of Germany, during that time. If not the individual people, then certainly the policies, the police force, the…" He waved a hand, trying to phrase it.

"The 'system'." Eleanor supplied with grim irony.

Brady chuckled a bit, pleased with that. "The System. The Establishment. The Mainstream. Whatever you want to call it. Then compare that to Churchill. He was famous for his 'fight them on the beaches' policy. It wasn't just his public position, it was his style. Every historical record of him agrees on how he was in private: 'Keep Calm, carry on'. He got his whole country on side by making them feel like they were all soldiers in the fight. Like the blackout, during the Blitz. Everyone volunteered for duty, everyone blacked out their windows, everyone 'did their bit'. It was the way everyone acted back there and back then."

"Can't imagine a whole nation agreeing to 'do their bit' now." Eleanor murmured.

"Neither can I. These days, half the populace would think the Blitz was a conspiracy theory." Brady laughed, when his face changed. "Actually, that answers your question." Brady seemed pleased to think of it. "If population follows leadership, then how can anything outlast the change of government? In western powers, the governments change with each election. But the last five, ten years or so? People choose the facts, and the positions they want, regardless of who's actually in power. So what we're left with is a System where only half the world will recognize leadership, and the other half is determined to see them as an enemy."

"Like trying to mix iron and clay." Eleanor murmured.

"Yeah, I guess so." Brady seemed unconcerned. "Well, this has been fascinatin- What's wrong?"

Eleanor had suddenly burst into tears. "Nothing… I'm just… I have to go home now."

~/*\~

Something was different with Del tonight. He was gearing up for a fight, and Eleanor could feel it. The silence over the dinner table was oppressive.

She made some efforts to start him talking about things over dinner, but he didn't take them. It was clear he had a particular topic in mind. Finally, she had to ask. "Is everything okay at work? Is there… something wrong?"

"You tell me." Del said, and went over to the end table beside the sofa. From the drawer, he pulled out her study guides. The books she'd been studying with Martine. Eleanor deflated, simultaneously relieved and embarrassed as he returned to the dinner table. "I remember throwing this one in the trash. If I'd known you were reading it so carefully, I wouldn't have." He opened the book to make his point. Every page was covered with markings and notes.

She hadn't been hiding the books, but she hadn't told him about her studies; which was almost the same thing. "I was getting coffee one day, and I was eight cents short." She confessed quietly. "Martine covered the difference, and we got to talking… I wasn't really interested, but the topic came up. I asked a question, and she showed me an answer in that book. It became another conversation, and…" Eleanor trailed off. "I told you about Martine…"

"Yes, but you didn't mention this." Del pressed. "Eleanor, how often do you meet with them?"

Eleanor took another bite of her meal to stall for time. "Twice a week." She confessed finally. "When you're at work." She looked down. "I wanted to tell you."

He was stunned. "Elle, that isn't 'just asking questions' anymore. That's a commitment. That's a routine. That's…" He trailed off. "You know I have my own issues on this subject."

"That's why I didn't tell you." Eleanor explained, fiddling with her dinner. "Del, I'm not that easily fooled, or led astray-"

"Neither was mom, until she was." He said, voice going hard. "I don't want you talking to those people any more."

Silence. Del was simmering. She'd never seen him like this, even when he told her about his own history. Eleanor knew not to push it further. This was approaching forbidden territory with her husband, and they both knew it.

But for once, Eleanor pushed anyway. "I read an experience yesterday." Eleanor said quietly. "A woman who became a witness told the story of her mother, who was opposed. The mother said she'd come along to the meetings, just to 'prove them wrong'."

Her husband said nothing, their half-finished meal forgotten.

"It caught my attention, because I was expecting something like that with you." Eleanor said casually. "If you have a problem with it… I mean, you could always come along, just one time. See what you're worried about."

"I have no problem with Martine. From the admittedly limited stories you've told me, she seems like a perfectly nice lady." Del ate a few bites. "My problem is with…" He waved a hand a little, and resumed eating, as though that answered everything.

"With what?" Eleanor demanded, when it suddenly hit her. "Oh. You're mad at God."

"I can't hate someone who doesn't exist." Her husband said shortly. The clipped tone that meant he was finished with the conversation.

Eleanor wasn't. "I said something similar to Martine once. She asked me this question: If I could say anything to God, what would it be?" Eleanor offered. "So I came up with something, and then she gave me an answer, straight out of scripture. It kept going for a while."

"It doesn't matter." The same clipped tone.

"Humor me." Eleanor pushed. She knew his story. She already had some likely answers prepared.

"I guess, if I were to believe in God enough to speak to him… Politeness requires that I say 'thank you' first." Del said tightly.

This was unexpected, but a good start. "Sure."

He squared her shoulders, and started to speak. "Dear God. Sorry to disturb your all-knowingness to share my own wisdom, but I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for the never-ending parade of starving people who need charity to feed them, because you won't."

Eleanor deflated. "Okay, that-"

Del was on a roll, going from elaborate politeness towards growing rage. "Thank you for providing a hundred different religions to preach Your love, or there'd be no wars over who You loved most."

Eleanor had learned answers to that too, but she wasn't seeing an opportunity. "Del-"

"In fact, thank you for War!" Del added, inspired. "If it wasn't for that, You'd be so lonely up there, with less young souls to keep you company! Thank you for the rampant greed, or we'd have nothing to aspire to. Thank you for doing such a great %&#^# job on humans! If we were the best You could do, I'd stay up in heaven too."

"I thought the same way, once-"

"In fact, while we're on the subject of heaven, thank you for that. Because if it wasn't for heaven and hell, what hope would there be, since You also gave us Death? Not that You haven't done a perfectly wonderful job of turning life into Hell already, before you get anywhere near the afterlife. But, just in case, we've got an eternity of torture to look forward to if we don't love you enough!" Del was angry now, red in the face. If he was still talking to his wife, it didn't show.

Eleanor drifted back, uncertain, backing away from him.

"All the Saints, the rituals, the cookies and wine! The groveling, the fire and brimstone! The tithing, the collection plates, the war profiteering, the child abuse, the kool-aid; and Your signature on Everything! Speaking as a member of humanity, I have to say: Thank you so %()#*$% much!" Del was worked up enough that slammed a hand down on the table, and sent what was left of his meal spilling over onto the table.

There was a long, heated silence. The only sound was Del breathing hard.

Eleanor stared at him like she was looking at a total stranger. The subject of religion had never come up in the home they had made together. Neither of them had believed, but this kind of pure wrath was something unheard of from Del.

After a long moment, Eleanor rose slowly, went to the kitchen for a cloth, and came back out to start cleaning up the spill.

Del had his face in one hand, mortified at himself. They didn't say a word to each other as Eleanor cleaned up.

Finally, with all the stains wiped away, Eleanor turned to face her husband. "I've never heard you express such hatred before. And it's for someone you don't believe exists."

Del said nothing.

"For the record, I thought a lot of the same things when this started. Turns out I was off-base on a lot of it." Eleanor said, very calm. "Turns out it's like a lot of prejudices. When you know more about it, it's less what you thought." She gestured at the books. "I've made a point of looking up answers to questions. They aren't platitudes. And… I'm not angry at God anymore."

Del said nothing, although his eyes narrowed a little.

"I mention that, because I would like that for you." Eleanor said quietly. "If I tried, do you think you'll erupt at me, like you did at the dinner plate?"

"Gotta be honest. I think so." Del said seriously.

Eleanor just looked at her for a long moment. "That's not like you."

"And this? Twice a week and not telling me? It's not like you." Del returned shortly. "At all. We tell each other everything, Elle. Whatever else these studies have offered you, they've turned you into someone who keeps secrets from me. That's never happened before. So when will you be done, do you think? Because I'd like to know when I'm getting my wife back."

Eleanor wanted to meet him head on, but swallowed it. She was very close to fighting back, and that meant it would be an actual argument, rather than a haranguing. Eleanor wanted to defend herself, defend Martine, maybe even defend God. Anything other than… this. The rage had blindsided her, and left her feeling… beaten down. She wanted so badly to retake the high ground. To end this in a position of equal fury rather than… humiliation.

Because that's how she felt. Embarrassed. For herself. For him. Del looked wretched, and her heart ached. She put her arms around him very slowly, as if afraid he'd spook and run. But when she finally got him in a hug, they both started crying.

~/*\~

"He isn't demanding I stop studying." Eleanor said quietly to Martine when she related the whole story. "He's so mortified at how he reacted the other night… If he demanded I stop now, it would make him a bully." She sighed. "It wasn't anger at me, Martine. Del has a history on this, and I knew it when I started. I never thought it'd last this long."

Martine looked sympathetic. "Eleanor, you know that's not the end of it. If his emotions run this hot about a Bible study, there's only so long you can put it off."

Long silence.

"My parents split up when I was little." Eleanor told Martine, pouring out her life story. "And ever since, they can't even say each other's names without it turning into a full blown rant. I was seven years old when I learned that hate was stronger than love. I was bounced back and forth between them like a ping pong ball."

Martine listened sympathetically. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"They never got violent or anything, but they both wanted to punish the other for the divorce, and I was the best weapon they had available." Eleanor nodded, face drawn. "They made me choose sides every day. I was seven years old, and I learned that the only other people in my world had a 'berserk button' that overrode logic, reason, common sense, and their love for me. I grew up assuming everyone had one."

"Do you still believe that?"

"Not really. It's one of those childhood worries that stays with you, even when you know better." Eleanor gave a shaky breath. "The world's getting worse. I can see his frustration growing. It's not anger. It's fear. Fear for our family. Fear of the world. Everyone I know is feeling it. But Del has never lashed out over anything."

"And now you've found his raw nerve." Martine said sympathetically.

"And I didn't fight back." Eleanor said quietly to Martine. "I had answers. All the things he was raging about? I could have said something, and I didn't. I just… sat there. I felt it boiling away in me. I froze up. He completely threw me." She looked at Martine. "My folks argued like cats and dogs over everything. What I loved about Del was that he didn't have any anger at all in him. Not over anything. Have you seen the world? It's no small thing, to feel totally safe with someone." She hung her head. "Even while he was yelling, I knew he'd never do anything to hurt me or others, but…"

"But you didn't like it. That you'd found something that made this gentle guy you loved feel angry." Martine finished.

She nodded. "I chickened out. I just wanted him to be happy again. He's my husband. It's not such a bad thing, is it?"

"You did the right thing, backing away." Martine said gently. "If you'd yelled back, you'd have just been in a shouting match. Nobody listens in a shouting match. Better to let things cool down."

Eleanor shook her head slowly. "I don't think he's ever going to listen."

"Maybe one day." Martine promised, with a smile at her. "But it's good that you want to share this with your family."

"Do I?" Eleanor pressed. "Because if I had to choose between Del's love and God's? I know what I would pick."

Martine took that in. "Well. I can understand that."

~/*\~ Nomi~/*\~

Nomi refused to believe it when she heard the news. It was like her brain refused to process the information. The other women had come to their home, bringing offerings of food and drink. It was their way, to provide a few meals to a small grieving family and friends, so that they would have at least some time to mourn the loss before having to go back to work.

Her mother hadn't even snapped at her for anything yet. That alone was more terrifying than anything else that had happened that morning. She went running to the river. It was the same river where Nomi's father had died. She hadn't come this way since they fished his body from the water.

It was like reliving her nightmares when she pushed her way through the assembled group and ran to the river's edge. They had already pulled her body out of the water. "Anah!" Nomi half screamed, half sobbed. "Anah!"

There were hands on her, and she fought them off automatically. In the marketplace, people reaching out to clasp at you was a source of fear. Today they were trying to be kind, to keep her away from the body of her oldest and dearest friend. Nomi almost couldn't believe it. She had seen all of these men be violent and harsh. Cruelty and mockery came almost as easily as breathing to them. But now, to a man, they were acting kindly, letting her pass when she demanded it, speaking soft words of condolence. It was as though the world had sated its bloodlust already for a day, and could afford to be merciful at last.

Tomorrow they'll be hungry again. She thought numbly.

Anah's body had been pulled from the River, her face so blank that it almost didn't look like her at all. Nomi threw herself beside the body and wept.

~/*\~

In the end, it was Kainan who snapped her out of it. The huge man was the only one of the Godsons to interest themselves in the tragedy. She knew he only came over because of her. Kainan brushed her hair aside gently. "You need not be here for this, beautiful. I can take care of it. Anah mattered to you. She will be treated with honor."

Nomi wiped her face, numb from grief. It suddenly felt so nice to let someone else handle the messy, ugly problems. The way they all bowed their heads slightly in his presence was a comfort for once. She was under his protection. Did one of you do it? She wondered of the crowd. Did one of you kill her? And why? For reasons better than boredom? Are you seeing Kainan at my back now? Are you wondering what it means?

Kainan barked orders at some of the men in the crowd. Anah was wrapped in cloth. Nomi looked the other way painfully. She felt Kainan's arm go around her, and she relaxed into it for once. It was the first time his relative size and power had been a comfort to her.

It struck her suddenly that if Anah's killer was here in this crowd, they must surely be afraid of her, with Kainan on her side. The thought gave her the first feeling all day that wasn't painful or sad. She wanted them to be afraid of her. They were all killers and bullies, and if they had reason to fear...

~/*\~

Kainan took her home, and she slept. He'd practically had to carry her, and she was so light on his arm. Grief had brought exhaustion. She could hear his deep, rumbling voice speaking with her mother in the next room. She didn't know what they were talking about, but could probably guess.

When she woke up, she heard her mother, going about her business. The thought of talking to her about it was suddenly more painful than anything else.

She crept out of her house carefully, and moved swiftly towards the trees, wanting to be away from the rest of the community. When she realized where she was going, the idea floored her. But she didn't change direction, making a direct path for the Ark.

~/*\~

Shem wasn't the first one to find her. It was his mother. Nomi must have looked a fright, because the woman didn't even hesitate to bring Nomi to the Ark, sit her down outside, and bring her food and wine.

Nomi looked around. "Noah isn't here?" She quavered. If one more person told her bad things today she would break.

"No." The family matriarch assured her. "He went east. There are other communities that need to be… warned."

Nomi stared at her, then up at the Ark. Since she had first been here, the walls had grown considerably over the immense supports. It was getting built at a surprising speed. Even as this woman took care of her, the rest of the family was still at work. "He went alone? To other towns and cities. To tell them that the End is coming, and this is…" She trailed off. She didn't trust herself to speak rationally right now, the frame of mind she was in.

"Noah has been trying to convince everyone in town that this is really happening." She said to Nomi simply. "But our community is not the only one in the world. Somewhere out there, there may be others who feel as we do."

"But he went alone." Nomi insisted, feeling her heart shred a little. "The way is dangerous, to say nothing of what he may find when he gets there."

"Nomi, it's no more dangerous on the road than it is right here." The older woman scoffed. "If anyone ever came to attack us, we couldn't flee. Noah would never leave the Ark." She stroked Nomi's hair gently. "I know, you've had a sudden reminder of how dangerous it is to walk alone in the world. But that's been our lives for decades. Did it not occur to you whenever Noah came to preach to your town, he's never taken any of our sons with him?"

Nomi was surprised to realize she'd never thought of it. "It's true." She realized aloud. "I'd never taken notice before, but Noah always walks alone."

His wife smiled a bit. "Not alone."

Nomi shivered hard. "Why should Noah be protected by the Creator, and not Anah?" She started crying again. "Was she so unholy in His eyes?"

The older woman gave her a long, appraising look, and Nomi looked away, unable to hold the gaze. "I imagine you've had this conversation with my son multiple times. He's made the case more than once that you were on the verge of making a choice, one way or another." She said finally. "You're asking me the same questions now, so either you weren't listening to Shem when the two of you talked about this, or you're wondering if I agree with the people in town; and remain here with 'Noah's Folly' because I have no choice in the matter."

Nomi still couldn't meet her eyes. How can she be as strong as my mother, and still be so much gentler about it?

"It takes three things to walk with the True God." Noah's wife told her. "It takes an accurate knowledge of Him. Something that's hard to come by. It takes willingness to obey His commands, even when you stand to gain from doing the opposite… And it takes the courage to do so openly. In more than fifty years of working on this Ark, not one more person has been willing to make the effort towards all three."

"And if they did, would you be so welcoming?" Nomi asked, not quite ready to be rational yet.

"Desperately welcoming." The older woman sighed hard, and just for a second, Nomi could see it on her face. The isolation. "Because, to answer your question; I do believe. God has not spoken to me directly, but I know my husband. What I came to love about Noah was that he was nothing like the world. You can see the influence of someone's father or mother in them, almost always. I can see who's influencing the world, and how Noah is different from all of them together. I made it my mission in life to make sure my sons turned out as much like my husband as possible. If God is offended by the injustice of the world, then I'm glad to know Him. If He plans to take action against it, I'm glad to help however I can. And I welcome as many people who can walk with Jehovah God as I can find." Her gaze softened as she lifted Nomi's chin to look at her. "And we haven't found even one yet. Believe me, nothing would make me happier, for Shem's sake, to find out that you agreed. And Shem would feel the same way."

There are still only seven of them. Nomi realized, as if the idea hadn't really struck her before. "There are only seven people in the world who match those 'three things'." She said suddenly. "I've seen inside the Ark. If everyone in town did believe, you'd have to redesign the whole thing."

"They don't know that." She countered. "Noah goes and warns people to come, and in decades, you're the only one to look twice. If someone came, we'd make it work. But nobody's even tried."

"Even so, Noah didn't design the Ark for people."

"He didn't design it at all. Noah keeps going, because all it takes is one person to change their mind... and we'll be eight." The woman rose, and gave Nomi a tight hug that made her breath catch. "You can stay here as long as you want. Whatever else, it's safe to sit and think here."

Nomi nodded her thanks, and returned to the treeline, sitting on the grass, leaning back against a tree. She was facing the Ark, but barely saw it, too lost in her own morose thoughts.

After a long while, she looked up and saw a familiar young wolf pup loping up to her. It was the same pup she'd played with the last time she'd spent a day at the Ark. It had grown a bit, still small and adorable. The little one took one look at her and decided she needed company, putting his paws on her leg and licking at her chin, trying to reach. Letting out a low sob, Nomi bowed her head and held the furry pup closer.

Shem's mother was making an offer, or at least letting me know an offer was possible. Nomi thought. Noah is off to another community right now, preaching the end of the world. If one of the women there agrees with him, Shem will have a wife.

Is that why? She asked herself. You've been told the end of the world is coming by one of the few men you actually feel safe around, and you're somehow thinking of it as 'who to marry'? Are you really so selfish? So limited in your view?

She had no idea how long she stayed there, but when she looked up, Shem was standing over her. His face was sympathetic, so he'd spoken to his mother. His fingers were stained with tar, and he smelled faintly of sweat and sawdust. Now that she thought about it, he always had that scent. Almost everything near the Ark did.

"What would you take, if it wasn't up to God, or your father?" Nomi asked suddenly. "If you got to decide what went into the Ark, what would you save, Shem?"

He sat down beside her. "I think about that, sometimes. Mother has us saving seeds from fruits and vegetables. We don't imagine we'll have to take them along, but… God will make the ground grow again; but we can still cultivate our own farms and gardens, right?"

"Favorite foods? Is that all?" Nomi almost wept.

"I have no interest in wealth and extravagance." Shem shrugged. "For all its size, the only way I could take stacks of precious stones or elaborate furnishings is if I left things out of the Ark. That wolf pup in your lap… Would it be worth letting them die out if it meant you could save one of the trophies from the Hunting Lodge?"

"What about other people?" Nomi asked. "Right now, it's just your family. The Godsons have fawning women fighting for the right. If the flood came, you could have your pick of them. Leave a few of the larger animals behind, you could have a dozen wives."

"That's what Kainan's brothers would do with it." Shem countered. "We aren't building this for ourselves. It's for the whole world. If we tried to use it selfishly, tried to decide which parts of Jehovah's Creation were 'not worth saving', then it'd be saying we knew better than the One who made-"

"And what about me?" Nomi said carefully. "If it was up to you, whether I was yours or not, would you want me to live?"

Shem took a deep breath, and she realized he was choosing his words carefully. Isn't it a 'yes or no' question?

"Saving you means more than saving your life." Shem said finally. "Our job is to keep the future safe from the present. If we fill up the Ark with people who want to turn the animals into trophies, and each other into slaves, then what's the point? The world is full of people like that, and it took ten generations to get this bad. If we were all shut up in the Ark, the job of destroying all creation could be done before the floodwaters receded." He turned to her. "You tell me, Nomi: if you had the power to decide who went into that Ark, would any of my family be there? How would you choose?"

"You love your father, don't you?" Nomi said suddenly; the shift in topic was surprising, even to her. "I know that we're supposed to respect our parents, and obey them, but… You love your family so much."

"...Yes." Shem said finally, surprised that this was a point that needed to be said.

"I don't remember much about my own father. He drowned in the River." Nomi said softly. "Same river they fished my best friend out of this morning."

Heavy silence. Finally, Nomi spoke, low and hard. "Back when we first met, you asked me what I thought about the feud between your father and the world." She met his gaze. "It's strange, but it just hit me that nobody had ever asked me what I thought about anything before that."

Shem said nothing.

"I think your father has spent years and years building a box to protect his family, and it still isn't finished. What a relief nobody came for you yesterday, or the time would have been well wasted. How lucky the Flood didn't start this morning." Nomi said seriously. "I think your promises about what might be are all in the future, and the marketplace is something I have to deal with today, and yesterday, and tomorrow."

Shem deflated a little. He knew where this was going.

"You're saying, point blank, that according to your father, your immediate family are the only ones that deserve to live. Out of the entire world. You have uncles and aunts too, Shem." She said, getting more certain as he spoke. "Noah is saying, without hesitation, to anyone who will listen, that his own brothers and sisters aren't worth saving."

"Nomi-"

"Your father believes this Ark is the only way to survive the world. And I'm not welcome on it. The Creator didn't speak to my mother in a dream. He didn't call me to your Ark by name. So either you're all mad… or you're all telling the truth, and I'm like everyone else in the world. You're trying to survive a Flood that will drown the world. I'm trying to survive until the end of the day. How many days are there yet to survive before your Ark is even ready? What is the point of being ready for the future when you don't have one?"

Shem hesitated. "That's still up to you." He said finally. "Nomi, the whole point of serving Jehovah is that there's always more ahead of us than behind us."

"No, there isn't." Nomi said seriously. "You can't help me, Shem. Your God can't help me either, because for all your faith, all your determination, all your hard work…" She waved at the Ark, mid-construction. "For all your righteousness; there are still only seven of you. What are seven people against the world?"

Nomi turned and walked away, fully convinced she'd never return to the Ark. As she walked, she noticed Noah was back, heading towards the clearing from another direction; far enough to the side that he hadn't noticed her. He was walking alone. Wherever he'd been preaching, nobody had come back with him.

~/*\~

If anything should have reminded her to be ever-vigilant of her surroundings, it should have been the loss of her best friend. Except she wasn't vigilant at all. She was walking in a daze, emotion making her brain numb to everything around her. Until finally, she looked up, and she was back at her own home. She'd walked home without noticing she was moving.

She went inside, and felt like she could see through everything, as though the world she knew was an illusion, and she had finally noticed. Nothing looked quite 'right'; like everything was a slightly different size and shape. It made her head hurt.

Her mother was waiting, and took her in a big hug. "I went through this feeling when your father died." She admitted. "It feels like the world is talking in riddles around you. It's not the world, Nomi. It's you. This will change everything for you. Maybe a lot, maybe for a little while. For now, just… let me hold you."

Nomi started crying again, and hugged her mother back. Love. Love, from her mother, without anything being asked in return. If anything was proof of how bizarre the world had suddenly become...

There was a knock at the doorframe, and Nuria stepped back, as if she was expecting it. Nomi, who had been enjoying the first open display of affection in quite some time, was almost jarred by the shift, her arms still extended after her mother.

When Nuria went to the door, Nomi had a sudden realization who their guest must be, and wiped her face automatically. Sure enough, Nuria let Kainan in, and gave her daughter a long, empathetic look, on her way out the door. "I'll let you two talk for a while."

Kainan made no move to approach her, his huge frame looking almost comical in the normal-sized house. He was carrying a wreath of beautiful woven flowers in one hand, and a basket of rolls and fruits in the other. "We didn't really talk much, before. But if it's not too late to say it, I'm so sorry about your friend." He rumbled.

Nomi nodded gratefully, not trusting herself to speak for a minute. "Um… Would you care for something to eat or drink?"

Kainan smiled a bit. "Thank you, I would."

~/*\~

She prepared him some food, mostly from the basket he brought; which was huge compared to their meager stockpile. She hadn't been to the Market today. Their stores were limited enough that they had to live day-to-day for risk of spoilage. She knew it was nothing, compared to the feasts that his family enjoyed every night. Kainan's eyes never left her. The plate looked tiny in his hand. Her dinner was a snack to him.

Nomi felt soft, like the world had been hitting her hard all week, and suddenly, here in this room, she was finally unable to keep up with it. "You don't even notice it after a while, Kainan." She whispered. "But I'm scared all the time. I schedule my chores around which routes are safest to walk, and what time I'm least likely to meet people I worry about at the markets. I ration out my food along the lines of what will last longest, and when I'm in the market, I try to avoid the… the most aggressive traders. I'm afraid to walk alone, but to go with the other women, I have to walk past the river-bend where my father drowned. Where Anah was found. And every day I glance at the spot, and wonder when it's going to be me. Not if. When." She yawned. "I'm just scared all the time. So much that I don't even realize it's the only thing I always feel."

"I'm not." He said, soft and slow. It was the most gentle she had ever heard his voice, and it was oddly soothing. "I'm not scared of anything in the world. I forget sometimes…" He let that thought trail off.

That tiny little mortals like me aren't as lucky? Nomi admitted to herself. "Must be nice."

He reached out one hand, ran his fingers down the side of her face. She was aching with exhaustion, and just feeling a warm, gentle gesture was so much nicer than everything else she'd felt all day. Maybe all her life.

"Nomi, I would want you to be happy." He said finally. "Yes, our marriage would be something arranged between my father and your mother, but that's true of a lot of people… I know that you feel… 'intimidated'? But it's not right that you should be alone and afraid all the time. It's just wrong." He made the smallest gesture, tugging her closer with the tiniest pressure. And Nomi felt herself being drawn closer to him. "Whatever else, I would want you to always feel safe, and cared for. Because you would be. I would want you to be happy, and want for nothing."

Nomi realized she had never been alone with him before. She had seen the Godsons in the marketplace, or the Hunter's Lodge. They were always so… dominant. Fearsome, really. They usually stuck together; unconcerned with their lessers. Kainan was the exception, since he was part of the Chieftain's line, and had to be involved with all the 'little people'. She'd never seen a Godson be… loving.

She hadn't even noticed she was moving into his arms until they went around her completely. "You're so beautiful, Nomi." He crooned.

"Is that all I am?" She murmured. "You could have anyone you want."

"Who knows why the heart picks anything or anyone?" He murmured back, stroking her hair. "Before she died, my mother taught me that some women were just so lovely that even the angels would abandon the heavens to have a night with them. I thought she was bragging, but she was right. Women such as you could make angels give up heaven."

"Flattery doesn't work on me." She returned. He fell silent, stroking her hair. "I didn't say stop."

He laughed, and she felt better. Nomi burrowed deeper into his arms and realized she was enjoying this. She felt so… protected. If a wild bear had rampaged into the house just then, a Godson like Kainan could bat it away, one handed, without even disturbing her. The thought made her want to laugh with awed relief. For the first time in her life, there was something stronger than fear of the world. It was here, arms around her, keeping her safe. "Yes." She said finally. "Yes, I will marry you."

Kainan lifted her chin enough to kiss her warmly.

~/*\~ Eleanor ~/*\~

The news was never encouraging. In recent months, it was getting worse. Eleanor didn't really watch it anymore, but Del always did. His reaction to her study with Martine had lapsed into a determined mutual ignorance. He didn't ask, and she didn't volunteer anything. He was busy with work, and she made every effort to be accommodating while he was at home, because she knew the subject would come up again. But he was shamed by his outburst, so the stalemate held; and she let it, giving him time to get used to the idea.

"Talks broke down as the debate entered its fourth day." The newscaster was saying. "The audience in attendance was barred after numerous demonstrations broke out, decrying the lack of progress; but social media quickly showed candid images of several committee members… playing games on their phones, while the evidence was being presented. The press office was quick to put down the allegations, insisting the images were fakes. Even so, there have been calls to censure those caught, as well as two others who were apparently asleep when the debates broke for lunch."

"Well, those guys are really earning their six-figure salaries, aren't they?" Del commented in disgust. "These people can't agree on breakfast, how do we expect them to agree on things that matter? The world is dying, and these guys are literally deciding whether to play a game or take a nap."

"Del, nobody expects them to agree." Eleanor offered, but he wasn't really listening.

"I have to leave for work an hour earlier to get around the protest marches. There are literally hundreds of thousands of people tying up every main street in the city." Del sighed, not for the first time. "Months of work, lining up experts and testimony and evidence, and none of it matters, because the people who can actually do things have all made up their minds before they get in the building, without ever dirtying their hands with reality."

Del broke off from his speech when he noticed her staring at him intently. Her expression said she was thinking something she wasn't saying. He didn't know what it was, but he made himself calm down. "I'm sorry. It… frustrates me, Elle."

"Me too." She said softly. "I can't even watch the news anymore, for the same reason I don't watch horror movies."

Del softened, holding his arms open, and she came over automatically, pressing her face into his shoulder. Somehow, he always made it better. She never appreciated it so much as she did in recent years, but somehow, her husband had made their home into an oasis from the world. "I love you." She offered.

"Love you." He returned, and reached one hand out to snare the remote. "No more news today." He promised. "It only winds me up, and if you can stand to be out of the loop, so can I."

Eleanor smiled a bit as he kissed her sweetly and made his goodbyes for the day. Even so, the conversation stayed with her. So much so, that she pulled out her phone and sent a quick text message to Martine. Free for Coffee?

~/*\~

"Del's right. It's like watching kids squabble over the toybox, except the 'kid's games' are all our lives, and they don't mind smashing them. The people who care don't have power, and the people with power don't care." Eleanor stared into her coffee cup. "And all I could think, while listening to my husband talk? 'Iron and Clay'."

"Back in every other version of leadership, there's never been a time when people had power over government." Martine said simply. "Accountability, transparency? These are all exclusive to the modern era. Monarchies and Feudalism ruled the world at almost every point before our era. And a generation where it was impossible for any semblance of agreement or control over their own populace as the norm? Exclusive to the last thirty years. There have always been demonstrations, even revolutions; but this..."

"I can see it everywhere now. America, Europe, Australia… The whole western world is minority governments and endless protest marches now. My husband is raging about how they can't agree on what to name a street. Even little kids can force themselves to compromise on the games they play; because they know the folly of arguing all through recess."

"Iron and clay." Martine summed up. "There's nothing that can force them to mix into a solid substance. There's no 'coming together' on anything."

"I admit, it fits the metaphor." Eleanor said carefully.

"The prophecy." Martine corrected.

Eleanor was notably silent.

"Still can't make the jump, can you?" Martine sighed. "What, in all the topics we have studied together, have you been able to find that is contradictory, or flat wrong when compared to the world?"

"Not a lot; I admit that too." Eleanor nodded.

"Try this…" Martine told her, and pulled out her device, calling up the Bible. "Micah 4:1, 2."

Eleanor read the scripture out. "In the final part of the days, the mountain of the house of Jehovah will become firmly established above the top of the mountains, and it will be raised up above the hills, and to it peoples will stream. And many nations will go and say: 'Come, let us go up to the mountain of Jehovah and 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."

"If we're right, somewhere between 1914 and the end, there's a sudden organization, right?" Martine said. "A gathering of people, from every nation, who are not part of the world anymore. People who aren't caught up in the 'kid's games'."

"And you think that's the Witnesses?"

"That's our interpretation, yes. Do you have a better one?"

"I… haven't even read that verse before. How could I?"

"Because you do your research." Martine grinned.

Eleanor held her gaze for a few seconds, before relaxing into a self-deprecating smile. "Yeah, I do." She sighed. "Some religions say all the End Times stuff was about pre-Christian times. The 'last days' before Israel was taken over by Rome. The 'Great Image' too. Some think it ends back then. To them, the 'stone striking the feet' is about the rise of Christianity."

"And you, Eleanor. What do you think?"

"I'm not a Bible scholar."

"You're a Bible Student." Martine returned. "So am I. You've researched multiple interpretations, and we've been studying for a while now. Draw your own conclusions."

Eleanor bit her lip, as she tapped at her phone. "There was a story in the news, that said researchers keeping track of Climate Emissions use Arctic Ice to study ancient climates, the way you can count the rings on a tree. Every layer of the ice is a snapshot of that year's atmosphere. Five centuries ago, the march of Genghis Khan killed everything bigger than a cockroach across half of Asia. The Arctic researchers could see a marked increase in the global oxygen levels, from the sheer number of people who were no longer breathing." She spread her hands wide. "But the Last Days are marked by Wars, and so only the last hundred years count?"

Martine considered her answer. "I remember a talk I heard, where the speaker compared it to a fingerprint. Every fingerprint has whorls and swirls, and they all look pretty similar. But if you put a magnifying glass on it and sync up three or four lines, you get a forensic match. Enough that it can't be anyone else."

Eleanor tilted her head slightly. "Interesting angle."

"You've been studying a while now. Count the lines that match up with what you've learned in our studies." Martine directed. "Pick any passage you like."

Eleanor bit her lip. "Maybe Matthew 24." She said finally. "That one seems most… significant."

Martine smiled a bit, pleased with that. "Just out of curiosity, why that one?"

Eleanor shrugged. "I've been looking up some of these scriptures by myself, and a lot of them are poetic, or metaphor. They use descriptions of images, and natural phenomena to describe world events. Matthew 24 doesn't use that kind of language. Jesus was way more specific."

"Mm." Martine seemed inordinately pleased by that. "In that case, I would also recommend 2nd Timothy chapter 3, verses 1-5." Martine took Eleanor's Bible and put a mark in the correct page. "We'll meet up in a few days, and you can tell me if you've seen any examples."

Eleanor read the marked passage, then bit her lip. "Where do I look?"

Martine laughed. "Everywhere."

~/*\~

It took less than two days for Eleanor to realize what Martine meant.

Eleanor liked to do her research. She'd read the passages in Matthew 24 and 2nd Timothy 3 multiple times, and searched phrases from those verses. She'd found dozens of websites, most of them contradictory. Some of them said that Jesus' dire warnings, or the prophecies of Daniel and Ezekiel, were about pre-Christian times and already fulfilled.

Eleanor was trying to decide what to do next, when the news caught her eye.

"...issuing traffic warnings for the Metro area as the police move in to try and quell the riot. On the scene now, our own Justine Jefferson." The anchor was saying. "Justine, can you tell us what you're seeing?"

"I'm glad to say the violence is contained." The young woman reported into the camera. "Given some of the social media chatter, the police were expecting the fans to get rowdy, and prepared accordingly. The fighting is contained to the stadium itself. The closed off streets outside are to prevent either side getting reinforcements. The game was broadcast in every sports bar in town. Seeing their colors getting attacked has motivated Greens fans to come to the Stadium and back their people up. Police are turning them away as best they can."

"What tipped off the riot?"

"The game ended. We've been talking about how 'high stakes' this game was, and what it meant to the championship. The stadium was full to capacity. Whichever side won, half the crowd were going to have their hopes dashed. When the final siren went off, the players had to all flee the field."

"If the violence was that likely, why didn't they stop the game?"

"Are you kidding? All that would have done was set off both sides, and done it in every street for ten miles. The tickets were sold out in less than fifteen minutes. Anyone who wasn't willing to risk getting involved would have stayed home. Some of the crowd have brought weapons. Not much more than blunt objects, but enough to do some damage." Justine said without mercy.

Eleanor picked up the remote carefully. "Love of the greater number gone cold..." She murmured, and changed the channel.

The next station had a reality show, complete with overly-dramatic music and repetitive speeches. On the screen, a woman was sitting in an elaborate chair, one arm strapped into a polygraph. There were several people sitting around her in a semi-circle, clearly her family and close friends. Some of them were crying.

"Stacy." The host intoned solemnly. "In the last two rounds, you've confessed to stealing from your employer, and cheating on your husband. The Truth has won you $200,000… Next up, we have your parents. Are you willing to tap out now, or do you want to risk it all for the full half million?"

Stacy was unconcerned. "I came to win."

"Are you sure? Because your husband stormed off the set-"

"We'll be okay." Stacy was certain. "With half a million dollars, we can survive this. He was surprised, I know, but I didn't really do anything wrong."

Eleanor nearly gagged just watching this and changed the channel again. "Lovers of money, lovers of self."

The next show was a courtroom reality show, filming real cases. A woman was suing the tenant's association of her exclusive gated community, citing religious harassment. "I'm a Wiccan. It's an officially recognized religion with hundreds of thousands of registered members in this country alone." The woman was making her case to the judge. "But every year at Halloween, I have to endure the stereotypes! Every house has hideous witches and smoking cauldrons and-"

The Judge cut her off. "Your suit is being heard, miss. But right now, we're talking about criminal behavior. You're accused of trespassing on seven of your neighbors properties, tearing down their decorations and burning them in a bonfire in the middle of your street. Is this true?"

"You bet it is, and if I don't get an apology, I'll do it again next year."

"You understand that's a confession, right?"

"I don't see why I should be expected to apologize if they're not!" The woman insisted. "I'm the only person in the whole neighborhood that's doing the right thing!"

Eleanor changed the channel again. "Headstrong, haughty, puffed up with pride." She quoted the verse to herself quietly.

~/*\~

The next reminder came that afternoon, while Eleanor was running errands. Lining up at the bank, Eleanor was busy juggling two different credit card bills in her head, when she heard a familiar voice. "Eleanor?"

She turned to see Mira, an old coworker from the Shelter, was in line right behind her. "Mira!" She smiled. "Good to see you." She hugged Mira quickly. "What's going on?"

"Just paying some bills. You?"

"Same." Eleanor nodded to the queue. "How's everyone at the Shelter?"

"You didn't hear?" Mira was surprised. "Shelter's closed."

"What?" Eleanor was shocked. "What happened?"

Mira winced and bowed her head a little. "Donations dried up completely when that story went viral about the warehouses."

"I didn't see that." Eleanor commented. "I've… taken a break from social media. Too much crazy."

Mira sighed harder. "Turns out there were employees collecting all the Christmas Drive Donations, and… well, helping themselves to the good stuff. Some of it was resold, some of it was appropriated. And once that story went viral, plenty of people came out of the woodwork, saying they were staying at our shelter for a while, and they got shook down."

"Shook down how?" Eleanor barked in disbelief.

"The guys who didn't come back for their stuff in time. It went up for sale in our thrift stores." Mira excused. "It was the deal. We put them up in regular housing, they pay us back when they find work. But some of them miss a payment, and…"

"The lunchroom." Eleanor said suddenly. "The one that was due to open 'real soon' for the entire three years I'd been there. Cyrus told me it was red tape. You're telling me it was them funneling money elsewhere?"

"Not us. The guys that ran our shelters were national. That kind of thing gets decided way over Cy's head. He was begging them to clean the mold and fix the plumbing in the shower block, but the Head Office kept finding ways to take cash donations and government funding and put them 'where they'd do the most good'." Mira insisted. "But between the financial scam and the employees with sticky fingers… plus, the place was funded by the churches, so when they asked us not to sell anything in our thrift shops for Pride Month, we got tagged with 'homophobia' too; and they decided it was best to just close down before we dragged other branches down with us."

"Was there really nobody there just to help the homeless?" Eleanor asked helplessly.

"We were. That's why we stayed local." Mica offered. "The regulars really missed you when you left. They still asked for you by name sometimes, until the place closed." She shrugged. "Hey, it was a charity, but it was still a business. Even the Churches only have so much goodwill to spread around, after the class action suits; to say nothing of the election." She gestured behind Eleanor. "Line's moving." Their conversation was ending. "It was good to see you, though. We should get coffee sometime, catch up properly."

Mind elsewhere, Eleanor nodded at that, and moved up the line to the cashier's window. "Having an appearance of godliness, but proving false to its power." She murmured under her breath.

"I'm sorry?" The Bank Cashier blinked. "I didn't catch that."

"Never mind." Eleanor pushed her paperwork forward. "Just thinking out loud."

~/*\~

"Sorry the chicken's a little overcooked." She apologized to Del for the third time over dinner that night. "My mind's been all over the place today."

"It's fine." He assured her again. "Relax, try to unwind a little; while I take care of the dishes."

She smiled gratefully and poured herself a glass of wine. She flicked through channels on the television, when she found the late news. Sometime since the morning news, there was a new breaking story.

"...ready to report as an exclusive that noted Investment Banker, Rich Wooten has been indicted on charges of fraud and embezzlement. He was taken into custody by federal authorities this morning at the airport, trying to board his private jet. For more on this, we go to our financial expert, Professor Nicholas Fawcett."

"It will come as cold comfort to all those that lost money, as there remains little chance of them getting it back. Wooten reportedly was the mastermind behind the largest Ponzi scheme in our nation's history. Hundreds of thousands invested some degree of money, either directly with him, or through his bank. Wall Street is scrambling to adjust to the arrest; as Wooten had several legitimate investments that are now being investigated as a matter of course. This could affect millions of people."

"Nick, there have been plenty of Pyramid and Ponzi schemes over the years, and one is structured much like any other. How is this any different?"

"In reality, it's not that different, Dan. What's different is that this was one of the few investment firms personally endorsed by political candidates. As one of the largest contributors to Senator Lorne's last Campaign, he was cited by name during several speeches, as well as the debates."

"It's not the craziest thing Lorne Voters believed during that election." The Anchor laughed.

"Can't have been too bad. He won."

"In related news, victims of the Wooten Ponzi scheme tied up traffic in the financial district for over three hours; marching to demand the return of their money. The marches were directed by police away from the Financial District, but refused to follow directions. Police scrambled to prevent them from crossing Jackson Street, but the protesters came into contact with marchers protesting the election results. Police deployed water cannons to prevent the two protests from becoming a riot."

"Misleading and being misled." Eleanor had goosebumps.

(Author's Note: A major part of being one of Jehovah's Witnesses is strict political neutrality. I could cite misinformation, and outright lies from any leader of almost any government in the world, but if I used any 'real world' example, or even picked a specific government or country, then that would be taking a position for or against them. As a result, the examples of 'being misled' written here are purely my own creation. You don't need anything I've written here if you want to see specific evidence of 'Critical Times'.)

Eleanor pointedly turned the news off as Del came in, drying his hands on a dishtowel. "The cooking channel is about the only thing left that doesn't make me want to throw things at the TV." He agreed.

Eleanor smiled, despite herself and patted the couch. He came to sit with her and she snuggled into her husband gratefully. "Put on a cooking show." She hummed, and he laughed. "And I might read for a while." She murmured, and pulled out her phone, reclining against him.

At that angle, Del couldn't see what she was reading, but she had gone back to the Bible, looking over her notes again, when she found the next verse. "But as these things start to occur, stand up straight and lift up your heads, because your deliverance is getting near."

Reading the scriptures to herself, Eleanor sighed, and tapped at the phone, shifting to her text messages. I see it now. She texted Martine. Study tomorrow?

~/*\~

"I tried to tell myself that the television gives a very narrow perspective of what's going on in the world. I tried to tell myself that 'it's just a game show, and they're always about greed and competition'." Eleanor admitted to Martine. "But that's the point, isn't it? If the world wasn't obsessed in Greed, Sex, and Violence, then they wouldn't be so popular."

Martine nodded, her face totally unsurprised. Eleanor had made a connection to something Martine had known all along.

"And once I made that connection, all the others seemed to snowball. All the things people were obsessed with… are diversionary. When a movie comes out. Who wins a game. Even the 'real deal' stuff like the Olympics? I can't, for the life of me, tell you who won a gold medal two Olympics ago. Or what an Academy Award was won for. Even the pinnacle of recreation or diversion are still just… entertainment to the rest of us. How many gold medalists are broke now?"

Martine nodded.

"But the people who are desperate for things that matter, like home, and family, and basic living expenses…" Eleanor bit her lip. "They can't contribute anything to the future either. They don't get the chance, because the cost of living is so high, the troubles are so constant, that every second is devoted to keeping your head above water." She bit her lip. "And the leadership of the world clearly doesn't make a difference because leadership changes hands with every election, and nothing improves…"

Martine spoke finally. "Critical times, hard to deal with."

Eleanor nodded.

"Hardly the 'good news' portion of the Bible." Martine let out a breath. "Eleanor, it's time we took a look at the last part of the 'sign of the times'."

"The preaching work." Eleanor nodded, pulling out a legal notepad already. "I've already been looking into it, actually."

Martine seemed surprised. "You have?"

Eleanor withdrew into herself a little, letting her face grow harder to read. "Well, I knew this would be coming up sooner or later, and I figured I should be prepared."

 Martine hid her reaction behind her coffee cup. "Any conclusions?"

"Your website is available in more than a thousand languages. Most international sites have about six, including the United Nations." Eleanor reported from her notes. "Your website breaks records."

"A lot of them." She agreed. "I think it's time you took a closer look. We've spent a lot of time talking about prophecies that proved true. The point of that was to 'establish credentials'. Jesus performed miracles to prove he was on the right side of things. JW's have the Bible to make use of. Now that you can see what the Bible has gotten right, it's time to focus more on the next step."

Eleanor felt a thrill of panic go through her. "I'm not going door-knocking with you." She said automatically.

"I agree. You're not there yet." Martine nodded. "But there is another thing I'd like to invite you to." She held out a pamphlet. Written on the front in large letters were three words: 'You Are Invited!'


~/*\~

If you'd like to support the author, the series is also available on Amazon.com.

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