The Seventh Messenger

by Carol Costa

  CHAPTER TWO

  T

  he silent escort took Naomi into the hotel and up a flight of stairs and then down a carpeted hallway to the door at the end of it. He knocked softly. “You may enter,” Mary called out from the other side of the door.

  The man nodded and Naomi opened the door and walked into Mary Purnell"s sitting room. The furnishings were elegant, small sofas, gleaming tables, crystal lamps and winged chairs were arranged nicely throughout the room. The windows were covered with heavy tapestry drapes that shut out the sunlight and allowed the room to be filled with the soft glow of the lamps.

  Mary was seated on a sofa. On the table in front of her was a silver tea service. The bearded man who had brought Naomi there stood in the open doorway behind her.

  Mary spoke to him. “You may leave us, Thomas.”

  The man nodded and closed the door softly. Naomi had the feeling he would stay outside the door in case she caused any more trouble.

  Naomi approached the older woman.

  “I"m sorry for making a scene back there.”

  Mary ignored her apology. “Would you like some tea? It"s freshly brewed.”

  “Sure. Why not.”

  Mary motioned for Naomi to sit in the deep blue wing chair to the right of the sofa, and then poured them each a cup of tea.

  Naomi refused the offer of cream or sugar and sat back in the chair balancing the delicate china cup and saucer in both hands.

  “Inez isn"t really an angel,” Mary said with a smile. “But she did send the message that you might be coming here?”

  “Inez?”

  “The woman you spoke to at the souvenir stand,” Mary explained.

  “I thought you and the House of David people were on the outs.”

  “Benjamin"s kingdom was divided, but I still have friends there and so do you.”

  “I don"t think so.”

  “It"s been more than twenty-five years, but we haven"t forgotten you, Naomi, the sunshine child. How is your mother?”

  “She"s in a nursing home in Chicago. She"s very ill. However, age and illness have not mellowed her a bit. She"s still a pain in the ass.”

  Mary touched her hair with a frail hand and patted down imaginary wisps of it. “You have grown into a mature woman, but you still speak and behave like the willful child you were when your mother took you away.”

  “I"m thirty-five years old and damn tired of apologizing for my existence, so don"t expect any special treatment,” Naomi replied.

  “Bitterness is more destructive to the giver, than to the receiver.”

  “Is that part of Benjamin"s sacred writings?”

  Naomi knew that she was walking on thin ice again. At any moment she expected the door to the suite to open and admit Thomas who was standing outside waiting to eject her.

  “All right, Naomi,” Mary said quietly. “I am, as you can see, a very old woman. I don"t have time to waste on games. What do you want?”

  Naomi drew in a nervous, shallow breath. She leaned forward and placed the tea cup on the table and rose from the chair. She paced around the room for a few seconds and then summoning her courage turned around to face Mary again.

  “I"m sorry. I"m not usually this rude. Being back here has stirred up some very unpleasant memories, but I don"t blame you. If anything, you are as much a victim as I am.”

  Mary nodded and smoothed her hair again. “The trial caused all of us a lot of pain, but suffering is part of God"s plan for our people. I have turned my anguish into triumph.”

  Naomi stared at the old woman as if she"d suddenly sprouted another eye in the middle of her wrinkled forehead. “Oh, give me a break,” she finally said. “I came back here for a little honesty, not for a lesson in humility. Maybe you"ve brainwashed yourself into believing that you are still the queen, but this is a far cry from what you once had, and you can"t tell me that losing it all didn"t hurt.”

  “I didn"t say that. I said I have accepted my fate and am content to live out my years quietly.”

  “With that carnival side show I just witnessed?” Naomi"s voice was full of scorn. “I"ll bet that angel routine doesn"t pull in enough to keep you in tea bags.”

  Mary let out a sigh as the door opened and Thomas stuck his head in to see if he were needed. Naomi had gone too far again.

  “I"m sorry. I didn"t mean that.”

  “I think you did,” Mary replied without malice. “And I"m beginning to find you very tiresome. Good-bye, Naomi. Give my regards to your mother.”

  The bearded guard stepped into the room and Naomi rushed over to the sofa and sat down next to Mary. “Please, don"t send me away. I apologize. I came here to find out about my father, if he really was my father.”

  “Your mother swore it was so under oath. Do you doubt her word?”

  “I don"t know. I was ten years old when the trial took place, not old enough to understand anything that was happening, yet it was an event that shaped my life. No matter where we moved or how old I got, the stigma of my mother"s testimony followed me, Naomi Warren, bastard child of Benjamin Purnell. Please tell me the truth, about myself, about Benjamin.” Naomi"s eyes filled with tears and apparently that along with her passionate plea, caused Mary to feel sympathetic towards her. She patted Naomi"s trembling shoulder as she motioned for Thomas to leave them alone once more.

  Naomi got up from the sofa and resettled herself on the chair. “I would like to know everything you can tell me,” she said softly.

  “I cannot tell you if your mother"s testimony was true, Naomi. Only she and Benjamin know that.”

  “Then tell me about Benjamin.”

  Mary took a sip of tea and nodded thoughtfully. “It"s been a long time since I"ve talked about Benjamin, but I"ll tell you the truth as I know it, as I lived it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  M

  ary"s story began in the green hills of Kentucky in the summer of 1879. Mary Stollard was seventeen. She lived on a farm with her parents on the outskirts of a town so small and poor, it didn"t even have a name. During the summer months, Mary would often walk the two miles or so to the General Store. She didn"t have any money to spend at the store, but she liked to go inside and look at the merchandise. Mary would pretend that she could come back another day and buy the pale green fabric for a new dress and a few yards of darker green ribbon to trim the dress and tie back her limp, straight dark hair.

  Mary was what most people would call plain. Her eyes were a soft brown, but there was no sparkle in them. Her face was long and thin, like her under-nourished body. In an area of the country where most girls were married and having babies at fourteen, Mary was considered an old maid. No boy had ever courted her, and being an only child, she had resigned herself to a solitary life on the farm.

  The summer heat had flushed Mary"s face and given it some much needed color. As she approached the General Store, she felt around in the pocket of her faded, worn dress, hoping to find a few pennies she could use to buy lemonade.

  Her fingers closed around a coin and Mary was delighted to discover it was a nickel, enough to buy lemonade and a candy. However, Mary never made it into the General Store that day, because Benjamin Franklin Purnell was standing in front of it, preaching to anyone who would listen.

  “Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly. Nor stands in the path of sinners. Nor sits in the seat of the scornful,” Benjamin said in a pleasant baritone voice.

  Mary stopped in her tracks and stared up at the tall young man with long reddish brown hair. He was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on and Mary was mesmerized by his looks, his voice, and his confident manner.

  As more people gathered to listen to him, Benjamin"s voice rose in excitement. “For the righteous man shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water. It brings forth its fruit in season. And its leaf shall not wither. And whatever he does shall prosper. For the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall perish.”


  Mary was quite familiar with theBible and its many passages, but she had never heard its lessons stated so sincerely and so eloquently.

  “Amen,” A few people who stood there listening to the street-corner preacher said when Benjamin finished. It was then that Benjamin swept up his well-worn hat from the dusty road and passed it from person to person, beaming his pleasure as coins were dropped into it.

  Mary stepped forward and dropped her nickel into the hat, but while the other spectators dispersed, she continued to stand there gazing adoringly at Benjamin.

  Benjamin walked closer to her, and her thin face flushed a deep shade of red. “I"m sorry,” she stammered. “The nickel is all I have to give you.”

  “You have given me your time, and that is worth a great deal to me. May I know your name?”

  “Mary. Mary Stollard.”

  Holding his hat in one hand, Ben bowed politely and extended his hand to Mary. “Benjamin Purnell. I"m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mary.”

  Mary let him take her hand and smiled up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Eh, I mean likewise.” More embarrassed than ever, Mary yanked her hand from Ben"s strong grasp.

  “And where is your home?” Ben asked.

  “My daddy owns a small farm just down the road a piece.”

  “Are you heading home now?”

  “Guess I"d better.”

  “I"d be honored to walk with you,” Ben said, favoring her with another of his brilliant smiles.

  As they walked, Ben asked Mary a number of questions about herself, her family, and the farm they lived on. She provided him with short, simple answers, not daring to speak too much for fear of sounding too eager or worse yet, too ignorant.

  At the farm, Fred and Alma Stollard were delighted that a young man had taken an interest in their daughter. They were even more pleased to learn that Benjamin Purnell was a man of God, a man who spent his time preaching the wisdom of the good book to others.

  Benjamin accepted their offer of a hot meal. After supper, Ben and Fred Stollard sat by the fire and discussed the scriptures. Alma sat quietly working out of the mending basket in her lap. Mary curled up on the floor content to listen and watch the fascinating stranger who spoke softly and reverently about God. She had always thought her papa knew everything about the Bible, but this young man seemed to have the entire book committed to memory.

  Ben slept in the barn that night and the next morning he insisted on helping with the chores. By the end of the first week, Alma had fixed up a proper bed for Ben in the corner of the sitting room.

  Every afternoon, when the chores were finished, and they went a lot faster with an extra pair of strong hands to share the work, Ben and Mary walked into town together. There, Ben would take up his position on the dusty corner and preach. Benjamin had a charisma that matched his knowledge of the scriptures and more and more people began gathering to hear him speak.

  After a few weeks, Ben and Mary began making their way back to the farm through the woods. It was there, on a grassy knoll under the sheltering branches of a giant oak, that Ben made love to her for the first time. Mary was beside herself with happiness and hope, and thought of little else but the joy of being with Benjamin each afternoon.

  Summer turned into fall and the crops were harvested, still Benjamin stayed on at the farm and preached in front of the General Store every afternoon. People were talking about building a church, where Benjamin could have a proper place to preach and counsel the community.

  Mary thought that Benjamin would be delighted to have his own church. He had often talked to her about having a church, but now that plans were actually being discussed, Ben seemed to become restless and distant.

  Then, one night they all sat down to supper as usual and Fred asked Ben to say the blessing.

  “Dear Lord, we thank you for the love and friendship we share at this table, and for the food you have provided. Bless us and all who enter this house in peace.”

  They all said, “Amen” and Mary and her mother got up from the table and began serving the men.

  “So, Ben, what direction have you decided to head?” Fred asked his long-time house guest.

  Mary stopped serving with the spoon in mid-air, obviously crushed to learn that Ben was planning on leaving. Her mother came over and took the spoon from Mary"s hand and continued serving the food herself. Mary slumped into a chair and stared foolishly at Ben, who didn"t seem to notice her distress.

  “Towards Ohio, I expect,” Ben told Fred in answer to his question. “I"ve been reading about a religious colony in a town called Fostoria.”

  Alma set the serving dish down on the table with a thud.

  “Not those Flying Rollers?” she asked. “I hear they"re a real strange bunch.”

  Fred turned angry eyes on his wife. “And where would you be hearing that?”

  His displeasure made Alma nervous. “No where in particular. I just heard is all.”

  “I have studied their sacred writings and find them to be most enlightening. They say the coming of the Seventh Messenger is drawing near,” Ben said, addressing all three of the Stollards.

  “The Seventh Messenger?” Mary asked, in a hoarse voice.

  “Their scriptures are based on the Book of Revelations, which tells of six angelic messengers. Angels sent to earth to bring God"s people to the true faith.” As he warmed up to his subject, Ben"s voice took on the tone he used when he preached on the street corner. “Each messenger has brought the people closer to perfection, preparing them for the arrival of the final angel. The Seventh Messenger will deliver those who believe in him into the Millennium, a thousand years of peace and plenty.”

  Fred cleared his throat. “Sounds too good to be true, Ben. Our time on this earth is limited. The Bible also tells us that.”

  Alma spoke up again. “The Flying Rollers say that everyone else in the world will perish. Sounds pretty crazy to me.”

  “No one"s talking to you, Alma,” Fred said with another angry scowl. “And since you can"t read, I guess you"ve been listening to gossip again.”

  “When the gossip is about Mary, I listen,” Alma replied defiantly. “Ben"s been repeating this nonsense all over town. People are saying that Mary is an old maid, and that the best she can do is take up with a crazy man.”

  Fred rose to his feet, ready to pounce on his wife. Mary jumped up too, and with a tortured cry ran out of the house. Now Ben stood and moved quickly between Fred and his wife.

  “Do not speak in anger, Fred,” Ben warned. “A mother defending her child is blameless.”

  “No,” Fred replied. “My wife will make amends for her unkind words. My daughter is seventeen years old. You are the first man who has ever paid her any mind, and that"s got people talking, wagging their tongues about things they know nothing about. Alma had no business repeating it to you, a guest in our home.”

  “My husband is right,” Alma said to Ben. “Please forgive me for speaking out of turn.”

  Ben smiled at Alma and took her hands in his. “No offense taken, dear lady.”

  Alma"s stiffness and displeasure melted instantly. “Please, sit and eat your supper. It"s getting cold,” she said graciously.

  The men returned to their seats and ate their supper in silence. After the meal was finished, Ben excused himself and went out to look for Mary.

  He found her in the woods, sitting on a fallen tree limb, staring up at the half-moon in the darkened sky. Ben wrapped the shawl Alma had given him around Mary"s shoulders and sat down next to her. Mary didn"t acknowledge the gesture or look at him.

  “You have been gone for a long time,” Ben said finally.

  “I suppose mama sent you to fetch me.”

  “No. I came of my own accord to say good-bye. I"ll be leaving tomorrow at first light.”

  Mary"s eyes filled with tears and she turned to face him.

  “I"ll miss you, Ben. I"m sorry if mama spoke out of turn before. She didn"t mean no harm.”

 
Ben nodded. “Is it true that no other man has ever courted you?”

  Mary looked away again, embarrassed by his directness. After a few seconds, she answered him. “You know you were the first for me, Ben. And no wonder, just look at me. I"m plain as an old burlap sack and skinny as a bean pole. I reckon you were just having your way with me „cause you felt sorry for me. But it"s all right. I"m not sorry for what we did.”

  “I didn"t take you to me out of pity. There is a beauty in you that other men are too blind to see.”

  His words were kind, but Mary didn"t appreciate the compliment. She was too distraught. “Stop teasing me, Ben,” she said angrily. “I see the way you look at the girls in town, and the way they smile back at you. I know you"re leaving to be with one of them.”

  Ben laughed softly. “I"m going to Fostoria to join the Flying Rollers. It"s my calling, what the Lord is telling me to do.”

  “And did the Lord tell you to sow your seed in me, and leave the child for my papa to take care of?”

  Ben seemed genuinely surprised by her announcement. He got to his feet and grabbed her by the shoulders forcing her to face him. “Do you tell me this to keep me here?” he asked sternly.

  “I"m sorry, Ben. I didn"t mean to tell you, honest. It"s okay. I know you don"t care nothing for me.” She buried her face in the shawl and sobbed.

  Ben was silent for several minutes. He let go of Mary and sat down again. Then, suddenly a broad smile appeared on his face. He jumped up and stood in front of Mary again, and placed his hand on top of her head.

  “Dry your eyes, Mary. You"re coming with me to Fostoria.”

  Mary looked up at him with suspicion in her eyes. “What?”

  “I said you"re coming to Fostoria with me. You and our baby are going to make a fine impression on those folks.” Ben smiled again and folded his arms across his chest. “Yes, sir. A man of God with a wife and child is a mighty fine sight.”

  Mary couldn"t believe her own ears. “What are you saying, Ben?”