They crossed the floor to a large steel door that opened to a wide ramp leading upward. At the top, Arin turned a knob on the lantern, and the light faded. Only then did Wade realize that the lantern didn’t generate light from a flame, as he had assumed, but from a thin tube. Arin hung the lantern on a hook, then opened another steel door. Wade had to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight outside.
“This way,” Arin said, his hand still on Wade’s shoulder.
When Wade could see clearly, what struck him first was that he was in a beautiful forest, thick with foliage and rich with growth. He could feel the life, if such a thing were possible. And the colors! The greens of the grass and leaves on the trees seemed much greener, the sky above much bluer, the shafts of dancing light through the trees much more golden than he’d ever seen before. It reminded him of the Technicolor films he and his mother sometimes saw at the movies. It was all so much realer than real.
He also noticed the sweet perfume of the flowers lining the path ahead. He had no idea what they were, only that they filled the air with fragrances that made him think of vast gardens and fresh-cut lawns. He took several deep breaths as if he couldn’t get enough of the scents.
His eye caught Arin watching him. “I’m sorry,” Wade said. “It’s so . . . beautiful.”
“Yes,” Arin said. “This was the first garden. The one from the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
“This is where the Unseen One started, when our world was first created.”
“I don’t know what the Unseen One is.”
Arin tsked loudly. “And they wonder why our world is so evil! Little surprise that you’re a vandal.”
“I’m not a vandal!” Wade complained. “Please don’t say that. I . . . I’m either dreaming or I’m lost. I don’t know which.”
They reached a tall stone wall and veered around on the path to the right. Directly ahead was a cottage, also made of stone. At the door, Arin paused to touch his forehead and heart lightly with his forefinger before going in. “Muiraq!” he called out.
Inside, the cottage was plain but comfortable in a homey way. The front door opened to a sitting room with a few wingback chairs, a sofa, a coffee table, and a hutch in front of a fireplace. Everything was constructed of dark wood with ornate, carved swirls and curves. Wade instantly suspected it had been handmade.
Up three steps was a dining area and a larger staircase leading to another floor. A woman emerged from a room off the dining area. She wiped her hands on an apron as she entered, giving Wade the impression she was working in the kitchen. Round-bodied and round-faced, she reminded Wade of Grandma Milly, his father’s mother. The thought put him at ease.
“Yes, Arin?” she said. She saw Wade and put a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. Composing herself, she simply said, “Oh, hello.”
“This is Wade Mullens. My wife, Muiraq.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She half-curtsied.
“I found him in the shelter. In Bethel’s stall, to be precise.”
“Honestly? And she didn’t bite him?”
“No. I’m surprised, too. But no more surprised than to find him there at all. He has an unusual explanation.”
“Does he? Then he should sit down. Is he hungry? I was just preparing lunch.”
“Are you hungry?” Arin asked Wade.
Wade wasn’t sure, and in the second it took him to think of an answer, Muiraq had already disappeared into the other room. “Of course he is,” she said from the kitchen. “What boy isn’t?”
“You’re going to feed me?” Wade asked as he followed Arin to the dining table.
“The Unseen One would have us treat even our enemies with kindness. And if you’re not our enemy, we should be hospitable anyway.”
Wade sat down. He wasn’t sure he followed the logic of Arin’s statement, but he accepted it anyway.
Muiraq returned with a plate of sandwiches, fruit, and cheese. “Help yourself,” she said and sat down. Arin poured a sweet fruit juice into wooden cups from a large jug in the middle of the table.
Wade had already put a slice of apple in his mouth when Arin and Muiraq bowed their heads to pray. Embarrassed, Wade stayed still until the blessing was said, then resumed eating. He was hungrier than he had thought.
“Tell us your story,” Arin prompted. “You said you’re from a place called America and that your furnace needed coal.” He bit into a sandwich.
Wade started again, telling them how he’d been in bed with a flu and—
“Flu?” Arin asked. “What’s a flu?”
“An illness, when you have chills and a fever and runny nose and—” He paused. “You’ve never heard of the flu?”
“Not the kind you describe. Carry on with your story.”
“Anyway, I felt better and went down in the basement to help my mother with the furnace.”
“Furnace?”
Wade nodded. “A coal furnace.”
“Coal?” Arin’s face lit up with surprise. “You use a coal furnace?”
“Yes, sir. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a coal furnace either?”
“Oh, we’ve heard of them. We just never met anyone who’s used them,” Arin said.
“Where is your father?” Muiraq asked.
Wade noticed that her eyes kept going from his face up to his hair and back again. “He hasn’t come back from the war yet,” he answered.
“War?”
“Not just my hometown, but the whole country. The United States of America. It was at war with Germany and Japan and their allies.”
“I’ve never heard of any of those countries,” said Arin.
“It was a big war. Nearly everybody was fighting in it.”
“Was? The war is over?” Arin speared a piece of cheese with his knife and tossed it onto Wade’s plate.
“Thank you,” Wade said and ate the cheese. It was sweet, unlike any cheese he’d known. He continued with his answer, “We beat Germany, and then we dropped a couple of atomic bombs on Japan, and they surrendered just a few days ago.”
Arin and Muiraq exchanged glances.
Wade thought they didn’t believe him. “It’s true!” he insisted.
“We don’t doubt you, lad,” Muiraq said soothingly.
“You don’t?”
“No,” said Arin.
Muiraq turned to her husband. “Do you think—?” she said. “Look at him. Is it possible that he’s the sign?”
Arin looked at his wife, choosing his words carefully. “Yes, Muiraq, I believe he is,” he replied. “It all fits, doesn’t it? The final sign.”
“I’m a what? A sign?” Wade asked.
Suddenly, a man with curly hair and beard burst into the room. He said breathlessly, “Come quick, Father. They’re—” He caught sight of Wade and stopped midsentence in astonishment. Recovering himself, he continued, “They’re back.”
Arin was immediately on his feet and raced out the door on his son’s heels.
Muiraq sighed deeply. “Why won’t they leave us alone?” she asked as she stood up and followed Arin. Unsure of what to do, Wade went along.
The tall stone wall that served as a fence around Arin’s estate had a large gold gate in it. As Wade approached, he could hear what sounded like a battering ram hitting the gate again and again. Arin and the bearded man were there, along with two younger men and three younger women. They spread out around the gate as if they weren’t certain whether it would withstand the blows. Rocks and garbage were hurled at them over the wall, causing them all to duck and dodge. Shouts of abuse were also thrown at them.
“What’s wrong? Why are they doing this?” Wade asked Muiraq.
“A drunken mob with nothing better to do with their time, I think,” she replied. “It’s happening more and more these days.”
“What should we do, Father?” the bearded one asked.
“I’ll go out and talk to them,” Arin responded.
“They’ll tear you apar
t,” one of the other young men said.
“They don’t have the courage,” Arin said. “They’re brave as long as this wall stands between us. Face-to-face, they know with whom they’re dealing. They won’t harm me. It’s not within their power.”
Arin went to the gate. Within its frame was a smaller, man-sized door. He lifted the enormous bar that secured the door and handed it to the bearded man, who struggled against its weight. Only then did Wade have some idea of how strong Arin must be. Arin nodded to his wife, took a deep breath, then opened the door to the crowd. The people went silent at the sight of the old man.
Arin asked in a calm voice, “What do you want?”
No one replied.
“Simply out for an afternoon stroll and some vandalism, is that it?” Arin said with a wry smile.
“We want to know what you’re up to behind those walls!” a man shouted.
“You know very well what I’m up to. I’ve made it clear to you for years now.”
“We want to see,” challenged a woman.
“Ah, but that you will not do,” Arin said and held up his hand. “Repent, turn your hearts to the Unseen One, and you will see. Until then, you’ll remain in your blindness and ignorance.”
A husky-voiced man called out, “Just who are you to call us blind? Who made you our judge?”
Arin spread his arms as if reasoning with them. “I am not judging you. Only the Unseen One judges. And He has judged you. The wickedness of this generation has reached His nostrils like the stench of a decaying corpse. He has given you every chance to repent, to return to Him. But you refuse. So His judgment is coming. It’s closer than you think.”
“You’ve been saying that for years!” another man shouted.
“Yes!” Arin replied. “And to think that you’ve had all those years to repent, to show good faith in the Unseen One. But have you? No! But the day is coming—it is here!”
A man laughed scornfully. “He’s going to wipe us all out, is that what you’re saying?” he challenged. “The Unseen One’s going to destroy us all!”
Arin turned to Muiraq. “Bring the boy,” he instructed.
Muiraq put her hand on Wade’s back. Wade resisted when he realized he was the boy Arin wanted.
“It’s all right,” she said softly. “You won’t get hurt.”
“Why does he want me?” Wade asked. “I don’t have anything to do with this.”
“Oh yes, you do. More than you know.”
Wade allowed himself to be guided forward to the door. Anybody who looked like Grandma Milly wouldn’t do anything to harm him, he reasoned.
“The final sign is here,” Arin announced to the crowd. “See for yourselves.” With that, Arin pulled Wade into view.
The crowd gasped and shrank back. Some of them cried out.
Wade wanted to run back inside the gate. He couldn’t imagine what was so hideous about his features that people would react that way. He hoped it was the robe. He had never liked the color of it. It had been a gift from his aunt Priscilla.
“It’s a trick!” someone said.
But no one stuck around to find out whether the statement was true. The people backed farther and farther from the door, then turned and scattered in various directions down the street. Many of them kept looking back with expressions of fear. One man lifted a rock and came forward as if he might throw it at them, but Arin’s steely look made him think twice. He dropped the rock and ran away.
Arin and Wade stepped back inside. Arin’s son secured the door again.
“I don’t understand,” Wade said. “Why did they act like that? Why were they scared of me?”
“Because of your hair,” Arin said.
“My hair?”
“Your golden hair,” Muiraq affirmed. “The final sign of the Unseen One’s judgment was to be the arrival of a child with golden hair.”
Back inside the cottage, Arin began to explain, “When I was a young man, the Unseen One spoke to me.”
“Wait, please,” Wade said. “I still don’t understand who the Unseen One is.”
“The Unseen One is the creator and sustainer of all things. He fashioned us from the earth, breathed life into us, and chose to love us in spite of our rebellion. He exists in your world, I’m sure. Your world would not exist without Him.”
Wade thought about it. “Our ‘Unseen One’ is called ‘God,’ if that’s what you mean.”
“God may be another name for the Unseen One. But in our world, the name God is easily confused with the false gods many of the people worship. From the ancient days, we have called Him the Unseen One.”
Wade had never thought much about God. His mother and father were good people who seemed to believe in God. They talked about God when good or bad things happened. But they never took Wade to church or asked him to read the large family Bible that decorated the end table.
Arin continued, “The Unseen One spoke to me—”
“How?” Wade interrupted again.
“How?” Arin seemed perplexed by the question. “The same way one person speaks to another. How else?”
“You heard Him?”
“Yes.”
“A voice,” Wade pressed. “You heard a voice?”
“A voice, yes. The voice.”
“What did He sound like?”
Arin frowned impatiently. “I wouldn’t know how to tell you, lad. I’ve never found the words to describe it. Nor could I do an imitation.”
“I’m sorry,” Wade said. “I won’t interrupt you anymore.”
Arin went on, “He told me that the sins of this generation were more than He could stand. The people have given up His truth for their own lies. He’s been repeatedly rejected by His own creation, and He now wishes to begin again. He called me to speak His message of repentance to the people while I built a refuge.”
“You mean the shelter I saw, the one underground.”
Arin affirmed Wade with a nod. “It is our protection when His judgment comes.”
“He told you to build the shelter?” Wade still had a difficult time believing that God, or the Unseen One, literally talked to Arin.
“He gave the specific design to me. Every inch, every detail is from Him. I have spent the past 60 years building it. When my sons were old enough, they helped as well.”
“There were animals down there, too,” Wade said.
“The Unseen One told me to gather the animals, to save them from the destruction.”
“What kind of destruction?” Wade’s mind continued to try to sort through these facts.
“I don’t know. That’s something He didn’t care to let me in on.”
Wade glanced around the room. Everyone in the family stared back at him, their eyes drifting at one time or another to his hair. He felt like a freak. He didn’t like being the center of attention. “What about the signs—my ‘golden hair’?” he asked.
“Ah, that,” Arin replied. “The Unseen One told me that the wickedness of His creation would increase throughout my lifetime. Forces of evil would be invited into the hearts of all mankind, destroying their humanity and replacing it with depravity and decadence.”
“That’s always the first thing to go when people turn their backs on the Unseen One,” Muiraq said sadly. “Their humanity.”
“That’s because the Unseen One is the source of our humanity,” Arin agreed. “Once we have dispensed with Him, we have dispensed with our true selves. So what’s left? Men who commit heinous and immoral acts become heroes, giants in the land. Lives become expendable to wicked ideals and causes. We celebrate inhumanity because we no longer understand what it is to be human. Corruption spreads to the very root of mankind’s being. So the Unseen One said He would lay the ax to the root. He would obliterate what He’s created and we—my family and I—would begin anew.”
“That makes you pretty lucky, I guess,” Wade said.
“Lucky? There is no luck. The Unseen One has chosen us. And as is often true of being chosen, s
ometimes it is a blessing, but other times it is a curse. I have spent most of my life being mocked and ridiculed. What you saw today was only one small incident. We’ve had worse. Much worse.”
“Arin,” Muiraq interjected. “The signs. He asked about the signs.”
“Oh yes,” Arin said, recovering himself. “The signs. One was the wickedness of mankind. Another was mankind’s rejection of the Unseen One for other faiths and idols. A third was the emergence of corrupt leaders, of which we have many, with not a single faithful person among them. The final was the arrival of a golden-haired child in this land of dark-haired individuals. Until you arrived today, I had always believed it would be a baby. Perhaps one of my sons and his wife would give birth to this golden-haired child. But now you are here.”
“But I’m not from the Unseen One. I’m from America,” Wade said. “Don’t you see? It’s a bizarre coincidence.”
“Wherever you are from, however you came here, I have no doubt that you’re the one. You’re the final sign. It is now only a small matter of time.”
Wade’s mind was reeling. It was all too much to take in. He looked around the room at their faces. Arin and Muiraq wore expressions of a gentle tolerance, as if they understood more about his doubt and confusion than even he knew.
He glanced at the two young men he’d seen at the gate, now sitting on the sofa. They were Pool and Riv, Arin and Muiraq’s second and third sons. Pool was round-faced, like his mother. Riv was slender, with his father’s narrow face and sparkling eyes. Next to them were their wives, Nacob and Hesham. Even though Wade was still too young to like girls much, he appreciated that Nacob and Hesham were pretty. One had straight black hair, dark skin, and penetrating blue eyes; the other had shorter, curly hair, a fairer complexion, and eyes like half moons, as if they were smiling all the time.
Next to the fireplace stood the bearded man who’d come in earlier to tell them about the attack. His name was Oshan. He was the oldest son. He stood quietly while his wife, Etham, sat nearby, knitting an item of clothing. Wade found he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She had an angelic face, with wide eyes and a pleasant mouth that turned upward at the corners, as if she were remembering a joke she couldn’t tell. Her curly dark hair fell like waves upon her shoulders. And there was something about her eyes. She reminded Wade of his mother.
The Marus Manuscripts Page 18