"But on different sides?"
"No," I said, "but what's happened tonight is too big for us to understand, without thinking out what it means. I love you, Kathleen, but I must be alone now."
"And so must I. I love you too, John, and I'll play fair with you. I promise. So goodnight."
She kissed me, and was gone.
I had a broken night, with Kathleen's words twisting and turning through my brain. "God, if you exist," "God, if you don't exist," "God, if perhaps you exist," "God, I know you don't exist," "God, how do I know you don't exist?" And then, "Satan, I know you exist." And so on and on, in an infinite variety.
* * *
Next morning, I discovered something to take my mind off our troubles. During the night the statue of Satan had been pushed off its plinth and was lying broken in several pieces on the ground, with bits that looked as though they had been chipped off by a hammer.
The news quickly got round, and people came out of their houses to see for themselves. Certainly some were frightened. I could tell they were, from the way they shrank back from coming too near. Only a few actually went up to the broken statue and examined it. I went with them.
Someone asked, "Are we going to mend it?"
Another replied, "What's the point? Anyway, it's too big for us to handle, and how could we stick the chipped pieces together?"
The trumpet still lay on the plinth.
"Perhaps that thing will tell us what to do," someone suggested.
"More likely it'll tell us who did it. And I wouldn't want to be in his shoes."
We were still debating, when suddenly the mass began to move. The base glided back on to the plinth, and the other sections climbed into place -- like a jigsaw fitted by an invisible giant. Then the chips of stone flew up and placed themselves in the gashes, and behold, the statue was intact once more with every crack perfectly bonded so that no one could tell that the statue had ever been broken. I saw many different reactions.
Some ran for home. Others gazed in awe, and even fell on their knees before the miracle. I walked home thoughtfully, and wondered how Satan would punish those who had vandalised his image.
The surprising thing was that nothing happened. Kathleen and I didn't meet that evening. We both had much to think about. But next evening I went to her house. We both felt rather awkward, and I wondered how we would get round the problem that we had left unsolved two nights before.
To break the ice, I raised a different question. "Why do you think Satan has done nothing about the wrecking of his statue?"
"I've been thinking about that," Kathleen said. "I wonder whether he can make more capital out of its restoration."
"But that wouldn't prevent him from punishing the original vandals. There must have been several involved, to break up a thing like that."
"Do you suppose he doesn't want to call too much attention to what looks like rebellion?"
"Maybe that's it. I wonder how much rebellion there is. Some people didn't mind speaking out when Satan came."
Kathleen hesitated. Then she leaned forward and almost whispered, "Does he think you and I are going to be rebels?"
"I see what you mean. But it's no good whispering, to stop his agents listening to what we're saying. They can hear our voices, however quietly we speak. We just have to talk things through, and take the consequences."
"We'll only have to take the consequences if you come down on my side."
She had a point there. "Kathleen, let's simply say we've got to talk things through."
"Okay, John, so we'll start where our minds got blocked before. And I'll say again, 'God, if you exist, stop Satan muddling our minds.'"
I sensed a change of atmosphere in the room as Kathleen said this. She looked at me. "I was asking you what Christians believe is unique about Jesus. You can at least tell me that, even if you don't believe it. You can surely remember what you used to teach your students."
I seemed to be back again in my study and lecture room, with the many books that I parted with when I realised I no longer believed as a Christian. My mind was clear. "The Christian belief is that Jesus is the promised Messiah, that is the Christ. He is God, who was born of a virgin as man. He died on the cross for our sins, and came alive again in a bodily resurrection. He is now in heaven as God with his Father, and yet lives in his people through his Holy Spirit."
I paused, surprised at the fervency with which I had outlined the faith that I had tried so hard to forget.
Kathleen gazed at me wide-eyed. "Is that what you believed once? Where does it all come from? It sounds too complicated for anyone to make up."
"It's what the Bible says, and you either accept it or reject it. I rejected it."
"Well, if I'm to reject it, I must at least know what I'm rejecting. We can't get a Bible here, that's for sure, but how much can you remember?"
Thus began what would have been called Bible studies if we'd had Bibles. I was surprised to find how much I remembered from the Bible as I talked about the Christian faith. Regularly each evening we began with Kathleen's prayer to a possible God, and then I spoke. The early Christian creeds gave us our subjects.
At first I was careful to raise what I regarded as powerful answers to the Bible statements, but little by little the objections faded into the background and I spoke "as an evangelist", according to Kathleen.
The evening came when Kathleen suddenly surprised me by saying quite quietly, "Do you know, I think I believe it all. Don't you? You've not been bringing out so many objections lately."
I felt startled. Each day I'd had a sense of freedom in explaining the teachings of the Bible, and all sorts of texts and quotations kept coming into my mind, even though I had forgotten them for years. Moreover, we had not felt any interruption from Satan. Kathleen's words jolted me. Did I, after all, really believe what I had been saying? My answer seemed to be forced out of me.
"Yes, I think I do."
"Then are we both Christians?"
"We both believe the Christian creeds, but I don't think that belief about Jesus Christ is enough. After all, Satan must believe God exists, and it's not doing him any good."
"Then God is real," Kathleen said. A simple statement.
I nodded slowly, as the full force of her statement came through to me. "We must believe in Jesus, trust him, have faith in him, and ask him to forgive us."
Kathleen looked me full in the face. "Then let's trust him together."
I shook my head. "You can trust him, Kathleen. I can't. I've gone too far with Satan. I daren't ask Jesus to forgive me."
"Try, John, try! You want to be forgiven. You want to become a Christian again. Surely he'll accept you."
She fell on her knees. "Jesus," she said, "John and I want to trust you. You died for us. Help us to trust you, and make us true Christians."
I couldn't let Kathleen speak for me. I joined in with her prayer and made it my own.
In that moment light flashed into my whole being, and all I could hear was Kathleen's voice calling, "Thank you, thank you, Lord Jesus!"
I repeated the words that she kept calling out.
How long we knelt side by side, calling and calling, I can't say. But what I remember afterwards was being in each other's arms, and telling whoever was listening, "We're Christians, we're Christians!"
It was very late before we parted, and I think Kathleen had as broken a night as I had.
* * *
"John, you look different," she said, as I drew her into the house later that day. Her face shone with a new look.
"And you look different too," I said, as I kissed her.
That evening Kathleen raised a point that had also been in my mind. "Now I'm a Christian, John, you must baptise me. You've already been baptised, but I haven't been."
"I've been thinking along the same lines," I replied. "In any case, we'll have to let the others know we're Christians. And I suppose your baptism will be a good start."
She nodded. "Will you baptis
e me, then?"
"Yes," I said, "but Satan will probably try to stop us."
"But we'll go through with it, and if we pray against him as Christians I'm sure it will be all right."
"We both seem to be thinking of a public baptism. I could baptise you here privately, of course."
"I suppose so. But I want to confess my faith in Jesus publicly."
We talked a bit more before deciding that I would announce that there would be a baptism in the river where it ran into the lake, and it would be at six o'clock tomorrow evening. I drew up several notices, and after dark posted them up in the village. Up until now we had done our best to keep our attachment secret. Whether we had been at all successful I cannot say, but now both our names were on the notices. I don't know how far our prayers had kept Satan from discovering what we'd been doing.
My belief is that God had been answering by drawing, as it were, a veil over us, and our conversion took Satan by surprise. But a public notice could not be hidden, and it was not surprising that Kathleen and I were both threatened during the day.
When I passed the statue, the voice of the trumpet thundered, "No Christians on Priam!" The sound rang through the village.
Kathleen came to me at about half past five. She looked nervous.
"Are you sure you want to go through with it?" I asked.
"Yes, if you are. We'll be marked out from now onwards. You realise that, don't you."
"We'll fight it together," I said. "It's time to go now."
"First we'll pray," Kathleen said quietly, and together we repeated the Lord's Prayer, with its petition, "Deliver us from evil," before stepping out into the street.
As we came near to the pool, we saw a crowd of people waiting for us. Some by the pool were obviously there out of curiosity. But another group moved across the track to bar our way. Kathleen took my arm and we continued to move forward. The group parted, and we walked between them.
They began to shout, "No Christians here!" and one voice called out, "Throw them in the lake!" Someone spat at us, and I dodged a blow to my face.
It might have gone badly with us, but at that moment a man leaped out from the back of the crowd and began to rave obscenities. His face was so horribly contorted that I didn't recognise who he was. Foam ran down his beard as he waved his arms frantically in the air. Everyone turned to stare at him, then pushed back to avoid him.
Someone shouted, "He's mad!"
The man stopped, and stared at the crowd. "I'm not mad! These are the mad ones!" He stood right up against me and pointed his finger. His face dribbled against mine.
Kathleen shrank behind me. I was trembling. Then I remembered, and I called out, "In the Name of Jesus Christ I command you, evil spirit, to come out of him!"
The man dropped at my feet, and lay motionless on the ground.
"He's dead," someone called, and they all clustered round while Kathleen and I moved to the side and went quickly down to the pool.
There was no further obstruction, and we went together into the water.
I asked one question. "Kathleen, are you a Christian?"
She replied unhesitatingly. "I believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who died for me and was raised again for me."
So I baptised her in the Name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
When we came out of the pool the doctor was bending over the man who had been possessed, and those who had threatened us were watching the man as he tried to sit up. The groups on the bank, who had seen the baptism let us through, and the others ignored us as we passed them. We said nothing, but made our way to my house.
We had half expected further trouble, but nothing happened.
CHAPTER 28
(Last Chapter)
From this time, the community began to break up. The statue was thrown down on two successive nights, and each time it was miraculously repaired and replaced. There was constant quarrelling over possessions, and demands for more tokens. Rival groups and gangs formed, and even children were drawn in, and went for one another. Several times there were fights in the street. But, above all, there were constant grumbles over not being able to return to earth.
Kathleen and I were not attacked, but nobody would have much to do with us. I announced a meeting to discuss the claims of Jesus Christ, but nobody came. I even felt moved to speak of Christ on the green, but I was speaking into empty air. I was unable to see what the end would be.
When the end came, it came suddenly.
One morning the sound of the trumpet rang through the village. The voice was harsh and scolding. "You have all been on test, and you have failed me, so you will be sent back to earth. You have had all you needed for a good life here on Priam, and you have let me down. There are even professed Christians among you. Yes, Christians!"
Satan paused, probably hoping that the crowd would be so angry that they would attack us. But the people seemed more interested in the prospect of returning home than in bothering with us.
"You have said you wanted to go home to earth, and so you shall. I command you to come out on the green, and at midday you will return. But you can take nothing with you except the clothes you are wearing. Any who fail to come to the green will be left alone with no further help. The planet will once more be empty. There will be no more supplies."
The voice rang through the village. People ran out of their houses, and the voice repeated what it had said before. This time there was an addition.
"You may be wondering how things have changed on earth since you have been here, but you have no need to worry. When you return, you will be back at the precise moment when you left the earth. You have been outside earthly time. I shall block your memories so that all that has happened on Priam will be as though it has never been. You will think that you were enticed into an experiment that failed, as you find yourselves still sitting in your homes. But you will not remember how you came to be involved. There will be no letters left about the experiments."
Satan repeated the speech several times.
Within a few minutes, Kathleen was round at my house. She seemed terribly agitated. "What are we going to do, John?" she asked, grabbing my hand.
"I suppose we'll go back like the rest."
"Then, if we forget everything, we'll lose each other."
"Surely we'll be able to find each other again."
"But, John, if we forget, I won't know anything about you, and won't even look for you, and you won't look for me."
She was crying on my shoulder.
"Suppose we don't go back," I said. "If we don't go out on the green, we'll be left here. That's what Satan said. Could you stay here with me?"
She looked up. "Yes, yes, why shouldn't we stay here? We won't put ourselves under Satan to take us back to earth."
"Then come in. It's not ten o'clock yet. We'll stay here, and I think we should pray together."
"When we're alone, do you think God will let us marry?"
"Adam and Eve lived together as man and wife in Eden. So God must have married them."
So we prayed. We made tea. We talked. We watched from the window to see people collecting on the green. Some danced with excitement. Others walked around slowly, I imagine hesitant about returning.
Time moved slowly at first, and then quickly, as midday drew near. At five minutes to twelve they were all there, except for Dr Faber and his wife who came running out on to the green with barely two minutes to spare. The doctor held a book in his hands.
I watched alternately the clock on the mantelpiece and the crowd outside. Kathleen clung to me, until with half a minute to go she said, "I'm frightened, John. Perhaps we should go after all."
"Listen," I said, "it's too late now. We can't be on the green in time. Besides, we don't want to go and then forget each other. Look!"
The clock struck, and where the green had been crowded there was now just grass. We didn't see them go. They vanished. We two were alone.
"Come," I said, "let's go and see."
"I wonder what's happened to the ones who died," Kathleen said. "Did they come alive again and go back with all the others? Is my father with them?"
"I don't know. We'll have a look at the graves of the people we buried."
We walked out of the village to see, although of course there had been no grave for Kathleen's father. He had simply disappeared, along with Joan Stuckey. Where we had buried the dead the graves were open, just holes in the ground.
I murmured, "So they too have gone back to where they were when we all left the earth."
As we came back to the village, we saw a man coming towards us down the street.
"Heavens!" said Kathleen, clutching my arm tighter, "Someone else didn't go."
"So we're not left on our own," I said bitterly, resenting sharing the planet and our life together. "Do you recognise him?"
He was nearer now.
"No, I don't. Oh, John, could it be someone from Satan?"
The person spoke. His voice was gentle. "Peace to you. My Master has sent me to take you back to the earth."
"He's from God," I whispered.
"You two Christians did well not to let Satan take you home, but you cannot stay here. The difference will be that you will remember everything when you return."
He looked at the book that I was still clutching.
"Keep that book. It will help you when you write the story of what has happened here on Priam."
"So," I said, "you're an angel sent from God."
"That is so, but I have been with you ever since you first prayed. Did you wonder why Satan didn't interfere when you spoke together of God's truth? I put a ring around you to block his knowledge of what you were doing, and I stood by you both at the baptism."
"Thank you," said Kathleen. "I wondered why we were so free."
"You took a step of faith in God, and that gave you freedom. But now we must not delay. Kathleen, your father is back home and looking for you. John, I shall take you to your home, instead of to the ancient stone circle from which you departed. You will see Kathleen again tomorrow."
Kathleen and I turned and looked at each other.
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