~/*\~ Satau ~/*\~
“It was the closure we needed.” Tzioni said grandly. “Many of us thought the fight with Egypt wasn’t over yet. You weren’t the only one trying to figure out what would happen next. Those scouts following us lasted a lot longer. It was clear that Pharaoh wasn’t ready to admit defeat either.”
Ohad-Ittai wore a tight smile. “So, what happens now?”
~/*\~
Satau was silent for much of the night following the escape through the Red Sea. Many of them were, once the song of praise ended, looking back the way they came in awe. But Satau wasn’t looking at the water. He was looking around at the people.
“What are you thinking?” Leahe asked him, curious at his reaction.
“The way everyone just… turned on each other when the soldiers came…” Satau said slowly. “It’s like they forgot everything that had come before.”
“They remembered everything that came before.” Leahe countered. “Your part in the story of my people began when Moses showed up. But there were generations before that of cruelty, violence, brutality… I heard what Deror said. I’ve known him my whole life. You have no idea what his master was like. All the masters were able to beat their slaves. Deror was owned by a man who enjoyed doing it. Whenever he was bored, whenever he was having a bad day, he’d call Deror in and spend some time inflicting abuse, because it was how he made himself feel better.” She shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the night air. “Everyone I know has at least one story like that. Deror got years of it. He’s been waiting to die since the day he was born.”
Takarut, walking beside her, piped up. “I was undecided for a while, because I saw Jehovah’s demonstrations of power as cruelty to our own people.”
“Deror can’t imagine people in authority who aren’t monsters.” Leahe summed up. “To be honest, neither can I. The Elders, the teachers in Goshen… None of them were in charge of us. Any time they tried to give us an order that the foreman disagreed with, they vanished without a trace. The only leadership we’ve ever had was the kind we had to endure.”
Takarut lowered his voice. “A point that was worse for you, but not limited to you. I lived with it too. Royalty, Merchant Leaders, High Priests, Law Enforcement…. Anyone with authority over you was a danger, and they never let you forget it.” He lowered his voice further. “It took so long to get Satau on side because he saw the plagues as proof that Jehovah was the same, only more powerful.”
“Mm.” Leahe nodded as though she’d just made an important decision. “You know what? I’ve decided. Deror and I are going to become good friends. He’s been alone with abusers for too long.”
Takarut’s smile froze. “Be careful with that one, Leahe. Some people are broken in ways you can’t see. Maybe you can help, but maybe you’ll lose yourself trying.”
“I know it’s going to be hard.” Leahe nodded. “But at the very least, I want him to see the good side of ‘power’.” She gestured ahead to the pillar of fire standing over their camp. “We’re all betting our lives on benevolent rulership now.”
~/*\~
Takarut’s voice called from outside. “You in there?”
Satau called back. “Come on in.”
Takarut entered the tent. “I would have knocked, but there isn’t really a door.”
Satau nodded, looking around. “Before we left Egypt, I packed only my ‘essentials’. Traded my horse for a pair of pack mules…” He looked around. “Most of my possessions that made the trip… I couldn’t bring any idols, obviously. I’ve given most of my spare clothes away. Moses says the clothing and sandals won’t wear out, which doesn’t make rational sense… Though what does, anymore?” He gestured around his tent. “I don’t really have much left.”
“The slaves had less.” Takarut offered. “My tent opens to a view of the pillar of fire. I don’t even need lamps in my tent, if I leave the door open.”
“Mm.” Satau didn’t like being reminded of how little the Hebrews had only a few weeks before. They’d taken their share of spoils from Egypt on their way out. Most of them had medallions, or bracelets, or earrings of gold. Those that had taken larger spoils kept them wrapped, or in sacks. Satau had seen the golden chalices used at state functions tossed into sacks of grain, to portion out the rations of their food. What was once a prize for a lord was now a serving spoon for freed slaves.
Takarut chuckled. “I was only just getting used to life in Goshen. Last time I heard the wind so clearly, I was watching the sky fall in Egypt. Cloth walls and a blanket instead of a house and a bed…”
“Remember, this is temporary.” Satau murmured. “When we get wherever we’re going, we’ll have to figure out our new lives. Right now, we’re in tents among people in tents… But when we get there, we’ll have to start over completely. Again.” He gestured around. “I’ve never made bricks, or tended sheep, or planted crops. Have you?”
“A little, while in Goshen.” Takarut admitted. “Satau, we might be the minority right now, but if we weren’t allowed in this march, we wouldn’t be here, even now.”
“I suppose not. But for the first time in my life, I have no idea what my future is going to be.” Satau murmured. “Even after the Plagues, if I’d stayed in Egypt, I’d know exactly what to do with my life.”
~/*\~ Paige ~/*\~
Progress was slow to begin. The Elders had a destination in mind. Apparently, the Branch Office had been building dormitories when the order went out to cease all operations. There had been no word on how the Branch had fared. Some thought it must surely have been burned to the ground. Others thought it was probably spared, in good enough condition that someone would want the facility for themselves; to say nothing of the chance for Divine Protection.
Getting everyone there was proving to be the harder part. The time of Tribulation had left scars on the old world. Almost every vehicle in their area had been siphoned dry or trashed in the riots.
They’d found a motorcycle in good working order, and one brother had been dispatched to ride ahead at speed and try to get word from other Regions. In the meantime, they were expanding the Co-Op.
The Troubles had shut down all shipments across the world, including food. The City had nothing left on the shelves. Some of the Congregation had been setting up soup pots, and keeping the crowd fed. The pots had never run low. So far, neither had the fuel tanks. Even the batteries were lasting so much longer than expected.
They had set up lights so that everyone could meet at night, when the meetings were held. There was one every night. There had been no schedules on what the meetings would entail, but everyone was taking a turn. Most nights, the meetings consisted of people standing and sharing their experiences of The Day. As brothers and sisters from other Regions trickled in, there were variations. One night, someone arrived with a bag of letters, and many experiences from other parts of the world were shared. Little by little, communication started again.
~/*\~
“We’ve been comparing notes regarding what’s going on in other Regions. Almost all the construction that the Witnesses did for themselves in the last ten years was highly rated environmentally.” Alvin had offered. “Odds are they’ll have running water and power, even with the cities wrecked.”
“One thing the riots didn’t touch much was the solar panels. Not really worth taking, but not worth destroying, since they were usually up on rooftops.” Nate yawned. He’d been given the assignment to return to town and find solar panels they could make repairs with, or set up extra lights around their camp. There had been other expeditions to collect buses, vans, anything that could carry people. “The good news is that the miracles keeping us fed seem to extend to the fuel tanks in all the vehicles we’ve found. We don’t have to worry about running out of gas when we take everyone.”
“Not everyone will be going.” Alvin told him. “Some want to stay. There are still the children to look after. Most of them aren’t ready for that kind of trip. When we go, a lot of the kids will be staying.”
(Author’s Note: If you’re a regular reader, you know that I’ve covered the first year in Paradise before, in other books. I’ve decided to keep the same continuity, while exploring different themes. As a result, I’ve made assumptions about some things. For example, there’s plenty of precedent in scripture for miracles of food and oil that never ran out. There’s also a question of what happens to children during Tribulation. As there’s no specific scripture to speak on any of these matters, they’re all relevant, but the plot does not rely on them. Consider these matters to be a way to get the story to arrive at the main plot quickly, rather than a prediction of what will come.)
“Can we really raise this many kids?” Nate asked randomly.
“It takes a village.” Alvin drawled. “Most of the kids are staying. Some of our people want to stay too, obviously. They plan to make the Farming Co-Op workable. A lot of these kids think their food comes out of a factory in the back of a supermarket.”
“So do a lot of adults.” Nate drawled.
Alvin looked back at the kids, most of them hanging around a few adults they felt safe with. “Some of our people… A lot of them have lost loved ones, even lost kids to The Day. Having someone to adopt, look after…” He saw the look on Nate’s face. “I know. I’m not entirely certain of it either. But we’re all here because we chose a family over the one we were born into.”
Nate sighed. “Jesus said anyone who gave up family for his sake would get a hundred times more, in the Kingdom.” He gestured out at the kids. “It might just be that simple. But it takes a lot to make a real family. I guess we’ll find out as we go.” He gestured over to the permanent buildings. “How’s the plumbing?”
“Still working. We’ve got six brothers who were on the Building Committees, and they agree it’s all ‘up to code’. They’re just worried we’re overtaxing the system.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “Of all the things I imagined about Paradise, I never thought we’d spend the first week worrying about the septic tanks.”
Alvin laughed.
~/*\~
Paige had never owned her own vehicle before. It had simply never been within her means to keep and maintain one. Now she could have her choice of any that were left. While she did have a license, she’d never really bothered to drive much. She had little chance to. Today, the roads were empty of other drivers, but still crowded with abandoned or burned out wrecks. She picked a car that was big enough for her to sleep comfortably in the back; and spent some time driving it around in a big, empty parking lot until she was comfortable with it; and rejoined the group. The car became her ‘home’ for a while. Some survivors lived in their cars, some were living in tents, some had nothing but a sleeping bag.
But all of them attended the meetings with huge smiles on their faces. The songs of praise were loud and jubilant. Music played every night, and the older ones danced the longest and most energetically. The first night had included an impromptu bonfire for the crutches, walking sticks, hearing aids, eyeglasses, the occasional wheelchair…
It felt like a camping trip. It was also a congregation retreat. It was also therapeutic, shedding every last bit of the old world that still touched them. It was a school for all those who were still learning.
And yet, Paige felt oddly lonely in it. Every time the music played and people started pairing up to dance, she looked instinctively for her husband; and felt a spike of grief when he wasn’t there. Every time she saw a couple being affectionate, thrilled to have come through the nightmare together, the spike felt stronger. When she settled into her sleeping bag, alone every night; it was enough to make her tear up.
One night, in their second week, the tears lasted longer than usual, and she didn’t even try to sleep.
~/*\~
Nate was still awake too. Finding a quiet part of the Camp wasn’t easy. There were so many people here now. They were organized, the tents orderly, in rows and ranks so that everyone had plenty of room to move around.
Paige had noticed that those who gravitated to each other weren’t just family or congregation groups, but the people who had been together during the time of Tribulation. Almost every Witness had to wait it out somewhere. Very few of them got to remain in their own homes for the duration. Those that had been together for The Day had formed unique bonds.
Nate had found himself a pickup truck, and laid out a sleeping bag in the back. As one of the single brothers, he’d donated his proper tent to a family that had come through intact. Paige found herself wandering in his direction. He wasn’t sleeping either. Without a word, they both sat in the back of his pickup, looking up at the stars.
“I can’t sleep.” She said finally. “We spent the better part of a week in Alvin’s home, then another week out here… It feels like I’ve stepped away from my life. It’s like when you go on holiday.”
“Some holiday.” Nate scoffed. “The first half of it, anyway.”
“I know.” She sighed. “But every time I get into that sleeping bag, I remember that Red is gone.” She sniffed. “Last time we went on a camping trip, we shared a sleeping bag. It was our first anniversary.” She smothered a grin. “We spent two days camping, and four days in a hotel. His father thought we were hiking all week.” The smile drained off her face. “He wasn’t a bad guy, Nate.”
“Neither was my brother.” Nate promised, tears forming in his own eyes.
Paige slid over so that the two of them were leaning against each other a bit, shoulder to shoulder. “He would have hidden me.” She whispered. “Red put family above everything. When the Order came in to turn in the Unsigned? He would have hidden me.”
Nate nodded.
“But he never got the chance to.” She sniffed. “I knew he wasn’t going to become part of the Truth. I asked, I offered, I begged. He always refused.” She sank into herself a little. “But every time we heard a talk about Matthew 25... I wondered.”
Nate thought back, and found to his surprise that he remembered it instantly. “‘In reply the King will say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’.”
“He would have hidden me from the Bounty Hunters.” She said weakly. “He would have protected me from the Coalition forces. He would have…” She shook her head. “He never got a chance to. I got named at work, fled home on foot, and they were already waiting for me. The rest of the story you know. You were there, in fact.” She sniffed. “Red never got a chance to…”
“To do what?” Nate offered helplessly. “What action could he have taken to change his standing with God?”
“To the extent that you did it to one of the least of these my brothers.” She quoted again. “Even when I had no hope, I still wondered if… If he would be able to do something that proved he wasn’t like the rest of the world.”
He squeezed her hand. “There’s very little I could say that won’t make you feel worse right now.”
She looked over at him. “Say it anyway.”
Nate winced. “Your husband had what my brother and I had. A witness in the family that begged him to listen at multiple opportunities. An offer that he refused, far more often than most people we met at a door.” He looked quietly sick about it too, thinking of his extended family, and all his coworkers.
“I should have…” She sniffed. “All the time I spent going door-to-door? I didn’t start any Bible studies. Not one. The most important person for me to save was sleeping in my own bed, and I couldn’t…” She gave up on putting it into words and cried, silently.
Unable to do anything else, he put an arm around her. She leaned into it, and was asleep in minutes. Nate thought about trying to tuck her into a sleeping bag, but the night was moderate, and there was nothing else he could do.
He shut his eyes, and started to pray, dozing off himself soon after, both of them sitting up in the back of a truck.
~/*\~
They didn’t have enough vehicles to carry everyone. They found more as they traveled, but they also picked up more people. Other congregations had found buses and trucks of their own, and were making their way to the Branch.
Those with vehicles carried cargo and equipment, or drove ahead to clear out a suitable campsite along the highways. It was slow going. The highways had been battlefields during the closing events of Tribulation. There were burned out wrecks all over the place. Other cars were intact, but drained of fuel. A few were ransacked, with bulletholes through the windshields. There were barricades and Coalition checkpoints every few miles, all of them without people; but they had to be dismantled before people and vehicles could pass through.
It was a migration. A small one, by humanity’s standards; and the walk was slow; but those walking filled the air with songs of praise and thanks. Those that still had working devices played music, and the crowd picked up the lyrics. When they stopped to eat, the miracles kept coming. They broke down the barriers and railings on either side of the highway, and dug latrines for their camp. They sent scouts ahead to find the next likely site, and work out who would go on work parties to clear out the highway next.
And there was no hurry. Food didn’t run out. Medicine wasn’t needed. The weather stayed clear for them where they walked. They had all the time in the world.
~/*\~
“In my youth, I set up racecourses and football stadiums into sites for conventions.” One of the older brothers said lightly, running a hand through his still-white hair. “We needed to carry in everything. Seats, kitchens, sinks, amplifiers, stages, microphones… Before dawn, I’d be rolling out cables from one end of a racetrack to the other.” He had a spring in his step. “Feels good to be breaking out the old skills again.”
“I understand we have you to thank for some of these trucks working.” Nate grinned, digging a latrine trench with him. “I never got the chance. In my family, you didn’t fix an appliance, you threw it out. You didn’t fix a car, or plant a veggie patch. You had people to do that for you, and you paid them.”
“Yup. We’ve got a lot to learn.” The old man held out a hand. “Demetri.”
“Nate.” He returned the handshake. “We haven’t met, so I guess you must be from one of the other congregations.”
“Probably another Circuit to you altogether.” He nodded. “And I'm still waiting to wake up. How about you?”
Nate chuckled, when he heard someone growling and hissing under his breath. He looked over and saw another stranger. He was swinging a pick-axe into the ground, breaking it up for one of the latrine trenches. Unlike the rest of them, he was swinging with a vengeance, like the ground had angered him. His face was stony, and his actions harsh and brutal, pounding against the rocky soil.
Demetri clearly recognized the man and gestured for Nate to leave him alone. “That’s Dilon.” He said quietly, confiding in him. “Lost three kids on The Day. All of them old enough to decide the Truth was too restrictive for them; and apparently none of them changed their minds.” Demetri sighed in sympathy. “I was lucky. All the people I was hoping to see in Paradise are waiting for a Resurrection.”
Dilon’s pick bounced off a rock, and he growled at it, tearing it up and hurling it aside.
Demetri gestured for Nate to relax. “It’s not like the old days, when you had to avoid people who were having a bad day. It’s not like we have to worry about road rage anymore. Let him exhaust his grief by digging. We still need more latrines for this many people.”
“I’m already mourning the day we run out of toilet paper.”
“You haven’t heard?” Demetri was surprised. “That stuff’s like the fuel in our trucks. It’s not running out.”
Nate rolled his eyes. “I cannot, for the life of me, figure out where the line is. Our fuel and food and water are all being provided miraculously, but we ran out of soap a week ago, and the razor blades are all getting dull. We don’t have nearly enough plates or bowls, or mess trays to feed this many people, so we have to eat in shifts. Every time we camp, there’s about twenty people who do nothing but wash dishes clean for the next batch of people, day and night.” He shivered hard. “It has been six days and eleven hours since we ran out of coffee and chocolate.”
“Aww.” Demetri gave him a grin. “You’re frustrated because only some basic laws of reality are being upended for our convenience?”
Nate couldn’t help the laugh. “Well, yeah. But it sounds ungrateful when you say it like that.”
(Author’s Note: There’s nothing in scripture to suggest that there will be miraculous supplies, or what would and wouldn’t be provided. This is supposition. But if God didn’t let His people starve in the wilderness after Egypt, it’s doubtful He wouldn't make provision for His followers during and after Tribulation. Exploring that comparison is the point of this whole book.)
“I’m an old man, and I’m useful again. I can read without a magnifying glass, I can hear everything without an aid, I can move without a walker, I can breathe without an oxygen mask.” Demetri told him. “And it’s only been a few days. No disrespect for those who have lost people, but this is Paradise. A paradise that I’ve been promised since before your father was born. I intend to enjoy every inch of what I can do for myself, and every bit of what’s given to me miraculously.”
Nate glanced back at Dilon, still attacking the ground with tears in the corner of his eyes; unaware of their whole conversation. “Amen to that.”
~/*\~
“We need to have a serious talk about Survivor’s Guilt.” Daryll said at one such meeting.
Alvin said upright. “Oh? Something’s wrong?”
“That’s part of what I want to talk about. I’m not sure.” Daryll said. “I knew a man once, who studied with my father. He was a veteran. He had massive Survivor’s Guilt about a friend of his… And when my father tried to teach him about the Resurrection promise, he shut down completely. He couldn’t get it through his head that he deserved to see his old friend again.”
Alvin let out a breath between his teeth. “Guilt is a very destructive thing. Twists around everything you think.”
“When we went back to town for the people movers? I went to a Doctor’s Office and collected a textbook. Apparently, Survivor’s Guilt is a part of PTSD.” Daryll said softly.
“Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is a medical condition.” Alvin frowned. “Isn’t that sort of thing fixed? We have brothers and sisters who suffered from depression, anxiety… even OCD. None of them have reported having the problem anymore.”
“Granted, but guilt is still an emotion.” Daryll countered. “And emotions are all still with us. If anything, they’re stronger now than ever. Faith is a language of the head and the heart, and we all bet our lives on it just recently. Those feelings are close to the surface. It becomes a condition when your body reacts to a feeling in a way that it’s not meant to. That’s when you call a doctor. But even if what’s going on in our Congregation can’t be considered medical anymore, it’s still common enough that it’s… well, feeding on itself.”
~/*\~
The next night, the expanded Congregation held another meeting. The Speaker had given a talk about the future, and what it likely held. It wasn’t that different from other public talks. They held such meetings every night. Not everyone attended them all. With all the other congregations traveling with them, they had a camp of thousands, spread across the area.
With the ‘talk’ given, they moved onto discussion and announcements. “First of all, a little Rumor Control. While it’s true that we don’t have enough food and water to supply this crowd, that’s been true many times in the Bible Record.” The Speaker declared. “I’m told that the ‘kitchens’ used up the last of the flour yesterday to make bread, and yet from those ten or twelve loaves, there’s been enough to supply the entire camp. The same is true of those rainwater tanks we found at the Farming Co-Op. We allowed everyone to refill their canteens and water bottles… and the supply held out until exactly when the last canteen was filled.”
A quick, nervous laugh went around the audience. It was a miracle, and certainly from a reliable source, but you were never really used to seeing the laws of reality being turned on their head. Certainly, you couldn’t plan for it.
“Also, as we make our way to our destination, it’s obvious that more people are joining us. Joyful news, to be sure, but it does mean our caravan will be moving slower. Since we know that our vital supplies aren’t running out, there’s no hurry. But it’s clear that much of what we’re facing right now, at the start of this journey, is not what was expected. So the Elders are making it a point to keep in touch with each family, each group. We’ll make every effort to give everyone our full attention as best we can. The schedule will be available. It’s not set in stone, if anyone has a matter to discuss urgently.”
Paige frowned a little. It felt like there was something… unsaid.
~/*\~
“It feels like you’re expecting… unrest.” Paige observed as she and Nate sat with Alvin the next day.
Alvin gave a bitter little smile. “Let’s say… we were trying to speak to the people we knew, without offending the people we don’t.” He sipped from his water bottle, and explained. “Look, it’s not a secret that there are more people here than we expected. A lot of them were long inactive, even a few who were disfellowshipped. They saw the FRA for what it was and came back…”
Paige swiftly understood. “So how do you announce to the entire group that we figured half of them should be dead by now?”
“There’s just no way to have that conversation with thousands of people at once.” Alvin agreed. “Nor should we. This is a deeply personal journey we’re taking, and no less because we’re all taking it at the same time.”
Nate let out a breath. “I spent the whole Tribulation wishing my brother had been on the ‘other side of the door’ when it shut.” He shuddered hard. “And now I find out the ‘door shutting’ wasn’t what I thought it was. And Ryder isn’t here.”
“Neither is my husband.” Paige put in. “There were almost a dozen times when I thought he was close to making a decision. But if he isn’t here, I guess he never made one. And I thought that was…” She caught herself. “I mean, I believed that the point of no return was the start of Tribulation. But apparently now there are people who changed their minds, and made it through…”
“And you’re feeling left out?” Alvin guessed.
“Not ‘left out’ exactly.” She shook her head. “I became a witness and had a very clear picture of what the future was offering me, and I got it. I just… I wonder if the people I loved were really so bad that God didn’t give them another chance; while people who were inactive, or even opposed could turn it around so fast.”
Nate nodded. “I’m in the same boat. I mean, we were all in hiding for most of that time. Other congregations are reporting sudden influxes of people. Why didn’t we?”
“That’s… possibly my fault.” Alvin admitted. “I was noticed by someone in authority. Someone who didn’t like how calm we were about the FRA as it played out. He didn’t like not knowing what was happening. He made it personal. The Elders in our Cong had to disband us into smaller, household groups a lot sooner than the rest of the country.”
(Author’s Note: This scene is due to the last book. In ‘You Will Know’, I followed the characters that were focused on survival in the face of pivotal events. I didn’t show a ‘sudden influx’ of new believers at the 11th hour in my last book, and this scene is to explain why. More on this later.)
“It would have been nice.” Paige murmured. “To see families with… opposed members, suddenly coming together. To have old arguments suddenly vanish.”
Alvin gave her a sympathetic look. But Paige and Nate only had eyes for each other at that moment. That kind of loss was something they had in common, and Alvin did not.
“Back in the old days…” Alvin heard himself and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, about three seconds ago? We knew that no matter what we did, what we tried, how hard we worked… It was always an unfair world and sometimes the effort made no difference. Now we live in a world ruled by someone who always notices the effort, and the intentions behind them. Someone who believes those things matter, and should be rewarded.”
“You’re saying my brother didn’t deserve to make it?” Nate said flatly. “Because I thought I understood that until I got here and saw some people who… frankly, I wouldn’t want to meet again. Even in Paradise.”
“That’s a loaded statement for a Witness to make. But no.” Alvin smiled tightly. “What I mean is: Whatever else this world might be, it’s run by the one Ruler who can’t be prejudiced, bought, or honestly mistaken.” He spread his hands wide. “Do we know for sure, about the people who made it to this world? No. But in full fairness, we have never known. Take a look through the Bible sometime. Are you saying you would have expected some of those characters to be righteous men in the end?”
“No. But he was my brother.”
“My husband.” Paige put in emotionally.
“I know.” Alvin said gently. “But we just don’t know for sure. Even now. Paradise is brand new. The New Scrolls aren’t open yet. We cannot be dogmatic. The truth is, we don’t know for sure who will be here, and who won’t.” He let that sink in. “Back in those ‘Old Days’, we prayed constantly to get through the day until we made it here. Every year, there were baptisms. The math said that every two minutes, we had a new brother in the world. No matter how hard our day was, if we could hold out for two more minutes, someone would gain eternal life. At the time, I wondered about the ones that would be just a day too late. or an hour.”
“You’re saying it turns out God had always taken them into account?” Nate guessed.
“I’m saying we never set ‘the line’. It was never up to us who was ‘in time’ and who was ‘too late’. We never decided who was ‘one of the sheep’ and ‘one of the goats’. We never set the time on when the Old World would end, or when the Resurrections would start. Even death isn’t the last word anymore.”
“In my head I know that.” Nate tapped his forehead, and then tapped at his chest. “In here, all I can think is: My brother and I took almost the same path, and now I have to explain this to mom.” He lowered his voice. “Explaining about dad will be easy. He made his feelings clear a long time ago, and he would never admit being wrong. He was too much of a lawyer to let the cold hard facts affect his position. But Ryder… He was so much like me.”
Alvin nodded, tearing up a bit in empathy. “Survivor’s Guilt isn’t a sin, brother. I just hope you don’t let it isolate you, or drive you away from all the blessings happening around you right now.”
~/*\~
The meetings weren’t always the same. There were announcements, and plans made for the next day, but those were finally starting to settle as everyone figured out what they could do in the new world.
“I admit, I wasn’t sure what it would be like.” Demetri commented one night. “Suddenly I have energy again, but I still look older than water.”
Paige, sitting by Nate, was close enough to hear that, and smiled. “If you felt this way six months ago, what would you have done?”
Demetri thought about it. “There was a street vendor where I used to live. Made the most eye-watering lamb curry you’d ever tasted.” He shook his head. “Haven’t been able to stomach it for twenty years. Today I think I could eat his whole cart.”
Paige heard that and the smile dropped a little. “Chocolate.” She said mournfully. “Pretty much the only vice I could afford, back in the day. I couldn’t even afford the good stuff, but… I haven’t seen a chocolate bar since the supply crisis smashed the whole dang system.”
Everyone in earshot nodded respectfully, as though at a funeral.
“And coffee.” Someone added, and Paige noticed there were several people listening, joining in on the conversation.
“Coffee.” Paige breathed it out like a prayer. “I am certain that we’re free of illness in the world now, or I’d be having serious withdrawals from coffee.”
Nate looked around, surprised to hear a few people tearing up at that.
“As with almost everything we mourn losing, we live in hope for the day when we can see it again. Or even receive greater blessings in their place.” Alvin offered solemnly.
Everyone nodded sagely. Nate noticed a few people lowering their heads. Paige pulled her locket out of her shirt, almost unconsciously, where she kept the picture of herself and her late husband. He felt a spike, reminded of his brother. While everyone was keeping it light, talking about the casual losses that didn’t really matter, everyone had something that couldn’t be released so easily.
Say it. The thought came to him from nowhere, but it was irrefutable. Nate felt it coming out of his mouth almost without thought. “I miss my brother.”
Dead silence. Everyone was trading looks, wondering if they were in uncomfortable territory now.
Alvin broke the silence. “Some people are worried that remembering those we’ve lost and wishing things could be different is somehow going to lead us into trouble.” He said so that everyone could hear it. “Please remember, we’re just at the start of this.” He pulled out his device. “I’ve read this verse so many times that I sometimes hear it in my sleep. ‘For I consider that the sufferings of the present time do not amount to anything in comparison with the glory that is going to be revealed in us’.”
“We’re pretty much there already.” Demetri offered. “I know that I’m luckier than most people with regards to ‘expecting reunions’, but I’m also older than most of you put together.” There was a polite chuckle, but he wasn’t joking. “I got to the age where life stopped giving you things and started taking away more and more. The things that the old world insisted on taking away? Those are the blessings I’ve already received.”
Russel piped up casually. “For example?”
“Well, there’s the obvious: My body works right. Things that I hadn’t even noticed had gone wrong are now suddenly so… easy.” Demetri said matter-of-factly, and there was a murmur of agreement. “But setting aside what I can do, the thing I’ve lost is the fear.” He looked around. “And I don’t mean fear of the world. I’ve been on medications that I can barely afford, and I can’t miss any doses, or I start getting really bad side effects. I needed a new prescription every six weeks; and my doctor was hard to reach. I checked my blood pressure four times a day, and any time I felt dizzy or nauseous, I had to wonder if it was something so much worse than jus’ gettin’ old.” He spread his hands wide. “First time in forty years I don’t have a doctor’s appointment coming up.”
Short silence.
“First time in fifteen years I haven’t had to pay my Visa bill with my Mastercard.” Paige said finally.
“First time in ten years I don’t have to wonder if the news is straight up lying.” Someone else said.
“First time since becoming a father that I’m not worried about who was talking to them online.” Someone else added.
“First time since I was fourteen years old that I haven’t held my keys in my pocket like a weapon, just in case I needed one.” A woman added.
“First time in my life I haven’t worried about my parents getting sick when I couldn’t afford to help them.” Someone else put in.
“This is the world according to our King.” Alvin summed up. “Before anything has even begun, before our Real Lives have even started, the first thing he did was to take away every lifelong fear that humanity has been forced to live with since Eden.”
There was a strong murmur of agreement, and Alvin suggested they break up the meeting with a song. Everyone agreed, and someone played the music from their device, loud enough from the speaker that everyone could sing in time. Nate glanced at Russel and Alvin, having a quiet conference under the music. They were enjoying the moment too, but they were taking different notes.
They’re looking to see who’s not participating. He suddenly realized. They want to know who’s not ‘rejoicing’ the way the rest of us are. Why?
A thin edge of suspicion started to creep into his thoughts. Ryder would have found the story instantly, but-
A swift spike of grief hit him again. His brother was gone. He gave himself a quick mental slap. This isn’t like the old days, and the Elders aren’t looking for conspirators. If you want to know what’s going on, ask them.
~/*\~
Personal relationships had become a little more nebulous between some of the survivors. There were bonds now that went beyond friendship, even beyond brotherhood. They’d seen each other through the end of the world, and a supernatural war.
As a result, even though he wasn’t an Elder himself, Nate felt comfortable putting the question to Alvin. “Tonight’s discussion went in directions that were carefully planned.” He said gamely. “Can I ask why?”
“We’ve all lost people we would have liked to have saved.” Alvin sighed. “And misery loves company. Enough that some people are pulling each other down instead of pulling each other up.”
“You’re worried about something going wrong?” Nate shivered. “Because, I’ve been worrying about the same thing…”
“You misunderstand. We’re not worried about a Golden Calf springing up. We’re not worried about a ‘wife of Lot’ scenario happening on a grand scale… But Scripture refers to Jehovah as the ‘Happy God’. Following His commandments wasn’t just about survival, they were about living the very best lives we can live, and being happy about it.”
And Nate felt his brain suddenly realign. There was no agenda. It wasn’t manipulation. It was a genuine effort to help people heal their wounds and move on to a happier life. The obviousness of it made him want to laugh. The fact that he hadn’t known it all along made him want to cry. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re simply not meant for Paradise anymore.”
Alvin raised an eyebrow. “I seem to recall that just before The Day struck, Del was telling us all about the night his son was born, and your late mother was talking about how people were still ‘wired’ for Paradise, even after so long of not believing in it.”
“I remember.” Nate nodded. “But I remember before the Covid Pandemic, I never used hand sanitizer. Even when the world went back to work, I kept using it. I still check my pockets for a bottle of the stuff, even now. I wonder if some things are just… hardwired into us permanently.”
“Not really a bad thing, in most cases.” Alvin nodded briskly. “We just want to make sure it’s not the things that will cause us misery, given that we’re all going to live forever in Paradise. But some wounds aren’t so harmless. And as with all deeply personal kinds of pain, we need to handle it gently.” He gestured back at the bonfire. “Calling people out on their grief in front of everyone? It wouldn’t be right.”
“So you were watching that whole ‘What We Left Behind’ party to see who needs some special care?”
“We all need special care, one way or another.” Alvin said with certainty. “Most of it will heal with time. Some will heal with reunions… Some need a little help getting by. Even in this world, not everyone will turn to the Elders to talk about it. And nothing says they have to. People find who they need to find, even in unexpected places.” He glanced over at Nate. “How’s Paige?”
And Nate flushed beet red, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
“Really?” Alvin raised an eyebrow. “Hm.”
~/*\~~/*\~~/*\~
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