The Dead Peasants' Contract: A Sequel to The Dead Peasants File (The Dead Peasants' Series Book 2)

by L. Craig Harris

  He glanced again at Rachel. The truth was, those men were evil. They wanted to make this woman a widow, and for no good reason. He and Travis and Dillon had fought back. Tiny did what he had to, plain and simple. It still burned though. It stung that they were dead. Travis was right, they needed to talk this out. He sipped his coffee. He needed to go back to work. He needed something to occupy his mind.

  The answer came nearly a month later, the first week of December. The East Springfield Fellowship Church elder board called him to a meeting.

  Sean began the meeting. “Christopher, let’s just cut to the chase. The people want you back.”

  Another elder spoke. “Are you willing to come back and be our pastor again?”

  Christopher nodded. “Yes, I am. I don’t think my ministry is through here. I do want to come back.”

  Sean grinned at him. “Can you be ready Sunday morning?”

  “More than ready.”

  “My wife spoke to Rachel,” another elder said. “She said you were having a tough time dealing with what happened down in Belize. Are you sure you’re ready to take on ministry again?”

  Christopher looked around the room. “I’ve seen things no one should have to see. I’ve seen men die.” He paused. “But I think it will be good for me to get back to work. And I think I’m more compassionate than ever before. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but we live in a fallen world and I’ve seen what evil can do.” He stopped and nodded. “I’m ready to fight again for the Kingdom.”

  The men stood and each one shook his hand. Sean was last. “Welcome back, Chris.”

  “I appreciate your confidence in me,” Christopher said. He went home and got to work on Sunday’s sermon. He had been thinking about his return for a couple of months. It was Advent, but he wanted to talk about something that was troubling his spirit. He had pent up his frustration long enough. He was ready to unleash the way he felt on his congregation.

  He had heard that the Boyd’s had left town. He figured Charles Morgan had sent them to hurt him, but he couldn’t prove it. He could almost prove it, since Dillon saw Wesley’s blue signature on his surveillance screen, but that may have been a coincidence. Probably not. And why had they left just as suddenly as they appeared if it wasn’t because they were working for Morgan? Whatever the reason, he was glad they had moved on. They had stirred the people against him and he was relieved to see them go.

  When he turned on the television that night, it reinforced his frustration and sadness. The cable news channels were all following the pending death of a lady from Ohio named Ann Somerfield. She looked like she was in her mid-seventies, healthy and vibrant, and was about to be put to death, not because she was a convicted criminal, but because she wanted to die. Morgan, it turned out, was offering free euthanasia for its retired workers who requested it. Four seniors were about to be put to death across the country.

  The news channels were carrying the first of the deaths live. Christopher couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The commentators said the seniors had no insurance and not enough finances. They didn’t have families to take care of them, or if they did, they had not volunteered to do so, so they were simply surrendering their lives.

  The news reporter spoke to Ann before she went into the clinic and let them strap her to the table. There, the reporter said, she would be poisoned intravenously, and would painlessly slip into unconsciousness. It was the same poison the government uses on death row inmates when their final day came.

  “I worked for Morgan for twenty years,” Ann told the reporter.

  Christopher’s heart raced as he listened to her calmly speak. He wanted to reach into the screen and grab her, and tell her he would take care of her. He felt helpless as he watched her speak.

  The reporter was an attractive, young blonde with brown roots. “Why did you decide to do this?”

  “I’m starving,” Ann said. “I don’t have enough money to pay my debts and feed myself. They cut off my electricity Monday and it’s freezing in my house.”

  The reporter protested. “You should have Social Security. You could file for bankruptcy.”

  “I do have Social Security, but I ran up debts and I can’t pay them. And it costs money to file for bankruptcy, like three thousand dollars. I don’t have it.”

  “But what about your family? Do they know about this?”

  “Yes, I have children, but they have their own problems,” she said. “I didn’t want to be a burden, so I decided this was the best course of action.”

  “Do they know you are doing this?”

  Ann shook her head. Her face was without expression.

  “What if I told you there were people out there who would help you? Surely you would let them.”

  “There are plenty of people out there who need help. I’m just one of many. Let them help someone else.” She turned and looked at the door to the clinic. “This is my fate.”

  The reporter pressed her. “You made pretty good money at Morgan for many years, you don’t have any of it left?”

  “I wasted a lot of money on the lottery. I really thought I would win before it was too late.” She shook her head.

  A person came up and took her by the arm to escort her into the clinic. The reporter asked her one last question as she walked away. “Do you have any last words?”

  Ann stopped and turned around. She was suddenly more bright-eyed. “Every day is precious. Love the people in your life. Try to do some good because life is short.” She turned and walked through the door.

  Christopher watched as they strapped her to the table. What a shame! There were cameras covering her death from behind a glass. The table was cross-shaped so her arms would be extended from her body. A tech came up and inserted a needle into the pit of her elbow. Ann looked over at him and nodded. In a few minutes she closed her eyes.

  A justice of the peace was on hand and checked her pulse. The tech pulled a sheet over her face and the news anchor announced her time of death. Christopher could feel his face burning and his heart racing. Morgan was getting away with murder again. People stood in line to work for Morgan, and now they were lining up to die because of him.

  The next day, Christopher watched as Charles Morgan gave a live press conference. He refused to take any questions, but he made a statement about Ann and the others’ deaths. “Morgan is dedicated to offering our workers the best salary and working conditions possible. We are proud of how high our wages are in comparison to similar companies across the country. We have recently announced that we will offer free euthanasia to any of our workers who feel that is the best course of action for them after they retire. We are not coercing our workers in any way to choose this fate, but we have been asked by some if we would provide this service and we have humanely and compassionately accepted.

  “We, at Morgan, offer a comprehensive retirement plan, but many of our workers choose not to accept it. We recommend that our workers consider their later years and plan accordingly. We have counselors available at many of our work places. We are working with our communities to make our country strong and our economy grow.”

  After the press conference the cable news anchors discussed what he had said. They found it hard to believe Morgan would offer such a service to its workers instead of helping them in some way. They interviewed a worker who had his identity hidden and his voice altered. He said Morgan was making it more and more difficult to find retirement insurance. He said what Dillon had already told Christopher, that Morgan was squeezing its workers into playing the lottery. The company was making millions off of its workers with it. The man said he wasn’t allowed to even go to any other insurance company in town. He had a microchip embedded in his skin and they kept an eye on him at all times. The man said he had tried to purchase life insurance online, but the sites had been blocked on his computer. He had signed Morgan’s contract and there was nothing he could do about it.

  The news channel next interviewed a pastor from New York State who said
he believed without a doubt the microchip was the mark of the beast. He warned that if other companies followed suit, no one would be able to shop or eat without signing such contracts and accepting the microchips. The end was surely near, he said.

  Christopher wouldn’t leave the television. He watched the coverage for hours. Another worker was scheduled to die in a matter of hours. The anchors didn’t even mention the dead peasants’ insurance and the rumors that workers were dying so the company could cash in. Christopher figured no worker was willing to give an interview. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but he grabbed his Bible, sitting beside him, and began to prepare his sermon for Sunday. He knew what he had to preach.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The congregation stood to its feet and applauded as Christopher stepped up on the platform Sunday. A light snow was falling outside. It was early-December and Christopher felt alive being back in the pulpit. He waited until everyone sat back down and gave him their attention.

  “I appreciate you putting your confidence back in me. It was probably healthy for all of us to take a break from each other, and I know for me, it proved that I am in the right place. My family and I thank you for trusting in me again to be your pastor.”

  He looked out at the congregation. It was just about a full house. Dillon was there, and Gabby was sitting beside him, along with their two children. Jason was home from college and was sitting between Stephen and Rachel. Christopher inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Turn in your Bibles this morning to Genesis 25. I’m going to read verses 29 through 34. Stand with me if you will.” He waited while the congregation stood to its feet again. “Once, when Jacob was cooking some stew, Esau came in from the open country, famished. He said to Jacob, ‘quick, let me have some of that red stew! I’m famished!’ That is why he was also called Edom. Jacob replied, ‘first sell me your birthright.’ ‘Look, I’m about to die,’ Esau said. ‘What good is the birthright to me?’ But Jacob said, ‘Swear to me first.’ So he swore an oath to him, selling his birthright to Jacob. Then Jacob gave him some bread and some lentil stew. He ate and drank, and then got up and left. So Esau despised his birthright.”

  You may be seated.” Christopher waited while everyone took a seat, then continued. “Jacob and Esau were Isaac’s twin sons. They were Abraham’s grandsons. There was a lot of money at stake. We don’t really talk about the firstborn son’s birthright in our culture, most parents divide the estate equally among their children, but back then, the firstborn son received a double portion of the estate when his father died. A double portion of Abraham’s estate would translate to millions of dollars today. Esau and Jacob were twins, yes, but Esau was born first, so he was entitled to the firstborn’s birthright. He was entitled to much more money than Jacob simply because he was born first. That’s just the way the culture was in that day.” He paused. “It was symbolic, of course. Paul said Jesus is the firstborn over all of creation in Colossians one, so Jesus is preeminent over everyone and everything else. You see there is a responsibility that goes along with being the firstborn son. You not only received a double portion when your father died, you also had the responsibility of the estate. You represented your father when he was not present and you took care of the estate when he died. So Jesus represents the Father, who is unseen. Paul said he is the image of the unseen God.

  “Anyway, back to Jacob and Esau. Esau, who was a grown man when this happened, had been out hunting in the countryside and came home starving. I doubt he was really starving to death, but that’s what he said, that he was at the very point of death he was so hungry. Do you really think he was about to die of hunger?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Well, Jacob took advantage of the situation. He wanted that birthright and thought it should have been his all along. He felt entitled to it. Here was his chance. He knew Esau would come in hungry, and he set a trap for him.

  “But I want you to notice that the Bible didn’t say, ‘So Jacob took advantage of Esau and stole his birthright. What it says, in verse 34, is that Esau ate and drank and then got up and left, that he despised his birthright. He didn’t see the value of it. He didn’t realize that his decision wouldn’t just hurt him, it would hurt all of his descendants. History tells us that his children and their children and their children all served Jacob’s children. They tried to subdue them throughout history, but lost. King Saul fought them and won and so did King David. Esau’s children worshiped pagan gods and rejected the one true God. One of Esau’s descendants was King Herod, who killed the baby boys in Bethlehem, trying to murder Jesus. Eventually, they faded from history and no longer exist as a people. All because of a bowl of soup.

  “Yeah, Esau was starving that day. He really, really wanted that soup. He really wanted to eat. He was so hungry he gave everything away for one meal. One meal.” Christopher stopped and looked at the congregation for a moment. “Do you despise your birthright? You see, you were born to be a child of God. He created you to fellowship with him. He loves you and wants you to trust him. Do you? Do you realize how valuable it is that God wants you to be his child?

  “I’ve been watching the news this week. I know you saw it too. People are laying down their lives because they sacrificed their futures on the altar of money and materialism. They wanted good salaries now and didn’t care what it cost in the future. They didn’t care if they even had a future. Just give me that soup! I’m hungry today and I want that meal right now!

  “You know what this reminds me of?” He paused and looked out at the congregation. “Jesus said, in Matthew 16:26, ‘What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for his soul?’

  “We think this life, in this body, is all there is. But it’s not.” He snapped his fingers. “Your life, in this body, is only a finger-snap compared to eternity. I will live the vast majority of my life in paradise, where God designed me to be. I will see him with my own eyes every day.” He held his thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. “This is how much of my life will be spent in this tent, in this body. So maybe you have all of the money in the whole world, but what if you only get to enjoy it for–” He snapped his fingers again. “That long? The rest of your existence is spent apart from God, without hope, without the joy that only God himself can give.”

  He glanced at Jason, Stephen and Rachel. “I came closer to death a few weeks ago than a person should. It was scary, I’m not going to lie, but I had a peace, even when a man was holding a gun to my head, that I would be with Jesus for ever and ever if he pulled that trigger. You see, I am already getting a taste of heaven. I’m already talking to God every day, and I feel his presence. I’m living with my big toe already in heaven.” He paused and looked at Dillon. “But we have to live in this fallen world for now. My friend Dillon back there was shot twice in the past couple of months. Twice. And he’s here this morning, alive and well. That’s because it wasn’t his time yet. God is in control of life and death. I’m proud of Dillon and I’m proud that he’s my friend, but he tells me he would never go to work for Morgan if he could go back in time and do it over again. He even tried to quit, but they forced him to stay. I just wanna warn you about that.

  “I’m not going to tell you whether or not you should go to work for Morgan Retail. But I want you to know what you are getting into if you do. That company will pay you pretty good, but they will tell you where you can and can’t do business. They will put a microchip in your skin, and they will spy on you day and night. And if you ever step out of line, they may send someone to kill you.”

  Some in the audience gasped that he said that.

  “I know some of you work for Morgan. Good for you. I’m not putting you down, but that company scares me. They are euthanizing people now, and they are making it harder and harder for you to get insurance to force you to play their lottery. Again, it’s all about what you want now. They are like Jacob, they know you are hungry today and can’t even think about tomorrow. But I say tru
st in God and let him take care of you today and tomorrow.

  “But whatever you do, please know that this life is not all there is. We will spend eternity either in heaven or hell. Not because I say so, but because Jesus said so. What good is it if you gain the whole world, but lose your soul? Compared to eternity, this life is so short.” He put his notes in his bible and closed it, then looked back up at the congregation. “Let’s pray.”

  Epilogue

  Six months later. The sun was hot on Christopher’s skin as he waited for the ferry to depart in Belize City. He, Rachel, Dillon and Gabby had flown down to see Travis and Julia, and to take the wives out to see the Lighthouse Reef and the Great Blue Hole in Travis and Julia’s boat.

  Christopher was feeling good about life. Stephen had graduated from high school and had a summer job, and things were going well at the church. The time away had refreshed his soul and reinvigorated him to continue his ministry. He and Rachel were closer than ever, and he couldn’t wait for her to experience the reef with him. He enjoyed the spray of warm, salt water when the water taxi left its port and began the hour-and-a-half journey to San Pedro on Ambergris Caye. Laughing gulls cried out as they flew overhead.

  Dillon walked up and stood next to him. “Did I tell you they changed my schedule?”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, I will go on day shift when we get back.”

  Christopher grinned at him. “No kidding? That’s great.”