by Bill Myers
But Eli wasn’t done. Slowly, he rose from the picnic table and walked five maybe six paces to the nearest pine tree. An evening breeze had picked up, causing a faint whisper through its boughs. He turned to the group. “I am the tree.
And you, my friends . . . you are the branches. When you live your life doing what I say, you stay connected to me. And when we’re connected, the sap of the tree, my very life and power, will naturally flow into you, allowing you to bear fruit.
“But if you choose to disconnect from me . . .” He spotted a small dead branch on the ground and picked it up. “If you choose to disconnect from me”—he broke the twig with a startling crack—“then you will die. My Father will cut you off from His tree, and you will be good for nothing . . . except firewood.”
The group remained silent, clinging to every word.
Eli approached them. In the moonlight Conrad could see moisture glistening in his eyes. “Love each other, my friends.
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It’s the greatest command, and it is the surest sign that you and I are connected. Yes, rough times are going to come.
People will hate you. They hated me, so why should it be any different with you? In fact, they’ll actually throw you out of your congregations and kill you, thinking they’re doing my Father a favor. Just as I have promised you power and love and incredible fruit, I’m also promising you hard times in this world. Count on it. But that’s okay. I’ve beaten the world. So can you.
“It’s going to be hard, but don’t be discouraged. That’s why I’m telling you everything now, so you won’t be surprised by it. Pretty soon you won’t see me for a few days. But then, a few days later, I’ll be back.”
He paused and quietly looked into their faces.
“Eli . . .” Suzanne tentatively asked. “I’m not sure about the others, but I still don’t know where you’re going or why we can’t follow.”
He smiled warmly at her and walked over. “In just a few hours you’re going to start grieving like you’ve never grieved before.” He knelt and took both of her hands. “Everything will seem completely dark for you, utterly hopeless. Your heart will be broken. The rest of the world will sing and celebrate, but you’ll be filled with overwhelming sorrow. But only for a while. Because after that, your sadness will turn to joy.”
He pulled her hands closer, resting his chin upon them.
“Remember the pain you felt when giving birth to Julia?” He turned to Conrad, including him in the question. “Do you remember all of her suffering?”
Conrad nodded silently.
“That’s what it will feel like.” He turned back to Suzanne.
“But only for a while. In childbirth, despite the incredible pain, when it was over, when you finally held little Julia in your arms, wasn’t everything forgotten? Wasn’t the pain replaced by joy?”
Suzanne nodded, tears forming in her eyes.
“I think we understand,” Jake called from across the group. “And I can speak for all of us in saying that when this, hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 282
282 whatever-it-is happens, we’ll be right by your side. We’ll help you through it, you can count on us.”
Eli turned to Jake and slowly rose to his feet. “Do you think so?”
“You bet.”
Sadly Eli shook his head. “No, Jake. Each of you will abandon me. To save your own skins, you’ll run away. But that’s okay. I’ll still have my Father.”
He took another breath and tried to smile. This time with far less success. His voice thickened. “The time is almost here, my friends. I’m going down by the river to pray. Those of you who want are welcome to join me. Because without prayer we won’t get through this thing. Do you hear me? None of us will get through this thing unless we pray.”
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C H A P T E R
F I F T E E N
THE PAST FORTY-EIGHT HOURS HAD BEEN EXHAUSTING FOR EVERYONE
including Conrad. From the entry into the City of God, to Eli’s arrest, to a sleepless night of worrying and planning, to the meeting with Dr. Kerston’s people, to Conrad’s realization of who he had almost become, to the realization of who his protégé had become, to his struggle over accepting the bread and wine, and now this late-night prayer vigil in the park . . . it was a wonder he could concentrate on anything at all, let alone prayer.
Still, like the others in the group, he silently tried to obey.
After such an impassioned speech by Eli, did he have any choice? The first hour had not been bad. Since prayer was basically foreign to Conrad, he did his best to remember the structure Eli had taught them: opening with worship, then praying for God’s will to be accomplished, then for his own specific needs, then for forgiveness, and finally that he not get caught up in temptation but be freed from evil. It was a far cry from the “God is great, God is good” mealtime prayers little Julia used to rattle off, or her “Now I lay me down to sleep” at bedtimes. Still, he seemed to be getting the hang of it.
It was during the second hour that he ran into trouble.
How long was a person expected to pray, anyway? And it 283
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284 wasn’t just Conrad. Soon, others in the group also began stretching out and making themselves comfortable. Some even began dozing off. And who could blame them? The warm night, the soft carpet of grass and pine needles, the two days of emotional exhaustion . . .
“Guys.”
Conrad woke with a start. There was Eli standing over them—hair disheveled, face coated in a light sheen of sweat.
“Can’t you stay awake with me and pray? Please, this is important.”
Jake, Conrad, and a few others grunted apologies. They sat up and tried to focus. But as the minutes passed, Conrad’s mind again started to drift. Maybe if he just thought of God’s goodness. Maybe if he just lay down and pretended to be embraced by that goodness. It could still be considered prayer, a type of worship . . . just a little more comfortable, that’s all.
As he drifted, he thought of Julia. He’d been doing that more and more lately, ever since he’d seen her in Lebanon at her uncle’s resurrection. Actually, it had been longer than that. Much longer. Because somewhere, in the back of his mind, she was always there. At the moment it was a memory he couldn’t place. He lay in a bed, stretched out with his eyes shut. And he sensed Julia sitting in a yellow chair beside him.
She said nothing—just remained seated in complete silence.
Yet, even then, he felt a deep sadness from her—a terrible, lonely anger. He’d always known she carried it. Just as importantly, he’d always known he was the one responsible for it.
But, as he lay there, he could actually feel her anguish, deep down inside, throbbing in her gut, tightening around her chest. He tried to open his eyes, but they were sealed shut.
He tried to talk, but his mouth would not move. Then he tried moving his hand. If he could just reach out his hand and offer her some solace, some sort of— —
“Guys, please.”
He started awake and saw Eli staring down at them. He looked worse than before. His face now dripping with per-hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 285
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spiration that—was it Conrad’s imagination, or was it pinkish red in color? It was hard to tell. Probably just a trick of the moonlight.
“Listen to me,” Eli said, wiping his face with his sleeve.
“The time is just about here. You’ve got to stay up and fight this with me.”
Again apologies were made, and again the guys gathered themselves, sitting up, resolving to stay awake and pray. But for how long? Surely Eli didn’t expect them to stay out here all night. Already a thin layer of fog was settling in the lower areas and a heavy dew had appeared. Conrad glanced around.
Suzanne and Maggie had moved under the cover of the nearby picnic table. Others had left altogether, no doubt continuing their vigil in the c
omfort of their campers or motel rooms. And who could blame them? It was getting ridiculous.
But Eli had already turned and was heading back to the river.
So, with a heavy sigh, Conrad rolled down his shirtsleeves to fight off the dampness and scooted to the base of the nearby tree. Maybe if he just leaned against it. There, that was better.
And maybe if he closed his eyes, just for a moment, to gather his thoughts, then maybe he’d be able to—
The blinding light startled him awake. He squinted toward the top of the knoll where patrol cars crept down the grassy incline toward them, their headlights on high, their flashers strobing blue-yellow-red, blue-yellow-red. Other members of the group also awoke, looking at one another in confusion, staggering to their feet.
There was a loud click followed by the brief squeal of feedback. “This is the Salem County Sheriff’s Department,” a voice rang through a P.A. “The park closed at sunset. You are in violation of county ordinance. Do not attempt to leave.”
What had been concern in the group escalated to panic.
“Connie?” It was Suzanne, searching for him in the glaring light.
“Over here,” he called.
She spotted him and quickly moved to his side. “What’s going on, what are they doing?”
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He wrapped a protective arm around her. “I’m not sure.”
But he had a pretty good idea.
The cars eased to a stop thirty feet from them. Doors opened and slammed. The silhouetted forms of men approached in front of the light. Conrad’s grip around Suzanne tightened. He looked back toward the river, hoping that Eli had had the good sense to slip away into the night.
But, of course he hadn’t. There he was, walking toward them
. . . slowly, deliberately.
Conrad turned back to the blazing lights and the officers.
He counted four cars in all, eight officers. As they approached, he caught glimpses of pale flesh against dark uniforms. Only one was dressed differently. He wore what looked like white shorts and a green polo shirt.
Leon was the first to recognize him. “Keith! What’s happening, man?”
Keith did not answer.
“What’s going on?” Jake demanded.
But Keith remained silent, heading directly for Eli. The two came to a stop facing each other not ten feet from Conrad and Suzanne.
Eli was the first to speak. “It’s your hour now, Keith,” he said softly, “the hour of darkness.”
The words hit the young man hard, but he held his ground.
Then he stepped up to Eli and, almost violently, threw his arms around him in an embrace. Eli did not resist. Then, ever so gently, Keith kissed him on the cheek. When they separated there was no missing the tears in both of their eyes.
“My friend,” Eli whispered fiercely. “Do you betray me with a kiss?”
Keith tried to hold his gaze, but faltered, looking suddenly toward the ground.
“Eli Shepherd?” an approaching officer called.
Eli looked up to him. “Yes, sir.”
“You’re under arrest.”
Eli nodded.
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“For the bombing and murders at the City of God.”
“I understand.”
The officer arrived and reached to the back of his belt to pull out a pair of handcuffs. His bigger, burlier partner joined him. Conrad could only stare in disbelief. He felt Suzanne’s body begin to tremble.
Jake’s reaction was a little different. He lunged at the two men, landing a quick, powerful punch directly to the first officer’s face—so hard that Conrad could actually hear the cartilage of the man’s nose snap. But it was over before it began.
The second officer’s baton flashed from his belt and rammed, butt-first, into Jake’s stomach, doubling him over. Next came the blow to his shoulders, a quick, hard chop that sent the big fellow crashing to the grass.
Leon and Will moved to his defense, but they were stopped by Eli. “No!” he shouted.
They froze.
“Don’t you understand yet? After all this time, don’t you get it? Those who live by violence will die by violence. If I wanted to, don’t you think I could ask my Father in Heaven to send down thousands of angels?”
He looked at the first officer, who was bent over, holding his nose, groaning softly. Without a word, Eli knelt down and helped him straighten up. For just a second Conrad caught a glimpse of the man’s nose—bleeding flesh and smashed bone.
Eli reached for it. The second officer immediately prepared to wield his baton again until the first moaned, “No, don’t.”
He waved off his partner, somehow sensing that Eli meant no harm. The partner hesitated.
Gently, Eli pulled the man’s hands away from his nose. It was a mess. Carefully, he placed his own hands over the smashed cartilage and bleeding tissue. Everyone stood in silence as he whispered something Conrad was unable to hear. And then slowly he removed his hands. A quiet gasp rippled through the crowd. The nose was completely restored. Except for the smeared blood on the man’s mouth and face it was as if the injury had never occurred.
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The officer stared at Eli, then reached up to explore his face. As he did, Eli stooped beside Jake. “Everything is happening just the way I told you it would,” he said, as he helped the big man to his feet, “just the way the Scriptures foretold.”
Then, turning back to the first officer, he said, “Please, let my friends go. You’re not interested in them. I’m the one you want.”
The officer didn’t respond, still stunned at what had happened.
“Please,” Eli repeated, “let my friends go.”
He hesitated a moment, looking into Eli’s eyes. Then he turned and gave the order. “All right, let the others go.”
His partner started to protest. “But—”
“Let ’em go,” he repeated. “He’s the one we want.” Then, turning to the group, he ordered, “You have exactly one minute to clear the area. Do you hear me? One minute.”
The group traded nervous looks.
The officer repeated louder. “One minute or we start making arrests.”
There was uneasy shifting, more exchanged glances.
Finally, Brent and Scott, who were farthest away, started backing up, slowly easing themselves out of the lights and into the shadows.
But the others remained, at least at first.
The officer turned, trying to look as many in the eye as possible. Some met his stare, others could not.
“Forty-five seconds!”
More shifting. More nervous glances. The tension built.
“Connie?” Suzanne whispered. “What do we do?”
Conrad weighed the possibilities. If they stayed, they would be arrested with Eli, thereby proving their allegiance.
But arrested for what? For trespassing? Not exactly the same as being arrested for murder. What type of allegiance did that prove?
He saw another shadow moving against the lights. It was Maggie. A moment later, Will turned and followed her into the darkness.
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Then Robert.
“Thirty seconds!”
Yes, he and Suzanne could stay at Eli’s side. Yes, they could be arrested, but what good would it do? Couldn’t they serve him better by avoiding arrest, by working for him on the outside?
“Connie . . .”
And what about Suzanne? As far as he knew, the woman hadn’t even had a traffic ticket. How could he subject her to jail—to the humiliation of being booked, searched, impris-oned? And for what? Trespassing?
He saw more movement: Leon was backing up, Then he turned and slouched off into the darkness. Others followed—
Hector, Trevor—each turning and moving up the knoll toward the lights and int
o the shadows.
“Fifteen seconds!”
Conrad turned back toward Eli, who watched sadly as his friends continued to leave, deserting him one by one.
Then, without a word, Jake slowly turned. He took a step and hesitated. His internal struggle was fierce and obvious.
So was Eli’s. It was clear that he wanted to say something. But he didn’t. Instead, he watched silently as Jake finally started again, lumbering off into the lights and into the darkness beyond.
Now there were only Conrad and Suzanne. Eli slowly turned to them. Once again his gaze locked onto Conrad’s.
What was he to do? Stay or leave? Be arrested and serve no use, or leave and be of help? What did Eli want? But as Conrad searched Eli’s eyes, he saw no clues. As always, it would have to be his choice.
“Okay, folks,” the first officer sighed heavily and motioned to his partner. The big man holstered his baton and reached for his pair of cuffs.
But he’d barely stepped toward them before Conrad heard himself cry out, “All right!”
The officer stopped.
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“We’re going,” Conrad said. “We’re . . . going.” He glanced at Eli, but Eli no longer looked at him. Instead, he was staring at the ground. And it was that look, that expression of utter rejection that broke Conrad’s heart.
Still, the decision had been made. Without a word he turned and, gently leading Suzanne, they started up the hill.
He knew that part of her was desperate to remain behind, heard a muffled sob as she looked over her shoulder one final time. She could stay if she wanted. He was certain she knew that. Just as it was his choice to stay or leave, so it was hers.
But she continued to walk by his side. And as they headed up the slope into the glaring lights, he said a silent prayer, asking that she not regret her decision as much as he was already despising his own.
v
Julia stepped out of the restroom. Although the knot in her stomach made it impossible to eat, she’d more than made up for it with the number of diet sodas she’d put down. As she reentered the hospital corridor, light from the late afternoon sun poured through the west windows, bringing out tex-tures and shadows—the gurney against the wall with its cracked black vinyl and its stainless steel legs, the fire extinguisher behind the sleek, molded plastic cover, even the threads of the fabric wallpaper—everything was vivid and alive.