Intervention

by Rob Mclean

  “This is not just my opinion, but the opinion of many of my colleagues, both within our church’s organization and that of many other Christian faiths. You can be assured that much thought and debate has gone into this accusation, as it is not one anyone would make lightly.

  “We have been waiting for the return of our Lord for many centuries, but according to scripture, we must endure many hardships before then. We are convinced that this is the start of these times; the days foretold in the book of Revelations; the End Times of the Apocalypse.”

  The congregation were still and silent as they contemplated their private interpretations of the coming horrors. John had, like many others, recently read the book of Revelations. It was all confusing nonsense to him, full of dire warnings of cataclysmic destruction on a scale only seen in big box office sci-fi movies. Up until the arrival of the alien emissary, he would have dismissed it all as fear-mongering. To him it had read as a series of threats, but there was the escape clause; that if you believed, you would be saved.

  He could see by the rapt expressions on the people around him, in particular, Angela and her family, that everyone here today, were devout believers.

  “So what can we, as Christians, do to prepare for the troubles ahead?” He clearly didn’t expect an answer as he didn’t give anyone time to reply before going on.

  “Firstly, we can be practical. We can make sure we have sufficient supplies of the basic necessities. Anyone who knows me will know that I have always advocated storing at least a month’s worth of food. Those who need help can see one of the elders afterwards.” He indicated vaguely in the direction of some offices, where John presumed the elders met.

  “As well as physically preparing, we can mentally prepare. As the world is divided into those with God and those without, we will be subjected to increasing amounts of ridicule and abuse. Already some of us have been witness to this.” John remembered the graffiti on Angela’s shop.

  “But ridicule may well be the least of what we may have to face. According to the Bible, the followers of the AntiChrist will be branded and bear his mark. It follows that we will be separated, segregated and most likely persecuted as second-class citizens for our belief and continuing faith. You must be prepared to be considered an outcast from people who were once your neighbours.”

  Over the last week or so, John had already seen how the people of faith lived in a world apart from the one he had grown up in. The words of the Pastor would only serve to insulate them further from the real world.

  “Finally, and most importantly, we must pray. We can prepare spiritually by putting on our spiritual armour.”

  The Pastor closed his eyes, lifted his face and held one hand, outstretched, towards the heavens as he prayed. “So, join me now as we pray to our Lord Jesus for His protection and guidance through the coming upheavals.”

  Around him, John saw the congregation bow their heads. Some kneeled, but all were deep in solemn thought.

  The Pastor spoke earnestly, reminding the people that they, being Christians and having publicly proclaimed Jesus as their Lord, were His children. He was their shepherd and would look after His flock. He urged them to keep their faith strong.

  To John, it sounded like the Pastor’s words were as much for himself as they were for the congregation.

  The prayers were followed by singing. A screen was lowered behind the podium and lyrics were projected for all to see. A group of six moved up onto the stage, including Chelsea’s pretty Asian friend, Christy. They all had hand-held microphones and readied themselves with a casual familiarity.

  Around him, people stood as the music started. Like a karaoke session, John followed the words on the screen as those around him sang. The tunes were totally unfamiliar, but they all had a recurring chorus that was easy and catchy. John soon found himself singing along and despite the strange lyrics, found that he quite enjoyed it. A lot different from singing in the shower by himself. He was glad of his fitness level and the lung capacity that swimming laps had given him, for some of the notes were held for what seemed ages.

  To John’s surprise, he recognized the tune of the next hymn. The lyrics of ‘Amazing Grace’ came on the screen, and John took in an extra big lungful of air in anticipation.

  He put his heart into the singing of this hymn. The words stirred in him and he felt their pleading honesty move him deeply. At the end of the song, he was breathless and had to wipe his eyes. The power of the song had taken him unawares. If the rest of the hymns had a similar effect on the rest of the people as this one did on him, he began to see why their devotion was so strong. It was then he noticed Geoff staring at him.

  “Liked that one, did you?” he asked, a wry grin on his face.

  John felt his cheeks burn as he remembered the old man’s passing advice earlier. “Yup,” was all he could say.

  They sang a couple of more unknown hymns, and soon the Pastor wound up the service with some housekeeping reminders and requests for help in various working groups. Finally he thanked everyone for coming and left them with the take home message to keep at the front of their minds as they faced the week ahead. He urged everyone to ask themselves, ‘WWJD.’ What would Jesus do?

  The lights came back up and people blinked, stood and stretched. They started chatting to each other. The trance was broken, and it was as if they were becoming reanimated after a session of hypnosis.

  “Well, son, what did you think of your first service?” Geoff asked. “You didn’t burst into flames.”

  “Yeah, it was interesting,” he said, remembering that it was what Angela had said about the Observatory.

  “Interesting, huh?”

  “Well, it was different. A new experience, for sure.”

  Geoff just nodded. He beckoned his girls to follow as he started for the door.

  Clarice explained that after the service most people stayed for a communal coffee or tea and cake. It was a chance to catch up with fellow church-goers, and before Geoff became ill, it was their social highlight of the week.

  Angela said nothing. She kept herself on the opposite side of her parents to John and kept her eyes downcast.

  “But we won’t be staying for that today,” she added, “on account of Geoffrey’s health, you understand.”

  John was greatly relieved, not having to endure hours of small-talk, but he wondered if she was deliberately keeping him away from her friends and answering awkward questions.

  They had just out the front door and heading down the walkway towards the car when an effusively friendly voice called. Clarice stiffened and put on a rigid smile before turning to answer the call. “You go on,” she said to John and the rest of her family, “I’ll catch you up later.”

  “No,” Geoff said. “It’s Elma. I want to talk to her, and besides I told her we’d talk after the service.”

  “Okay, but don’t take too long. You need your rest, remember?”

  “I’ll be resting long enough once I’m dead.”

  Clarice didn’t have a chance to reply as Elma was closing in. She still had an affronted expression on her face as she scrutinized John, but when she addressed Geoff, she sounded friendly enough.

  “Clarice, I am so glad I caught you before you hurried off.”

  “Oh, we’d love to stay and chat, but Geoff’s health…”

  “Geoffrey, you’re looking well today. How are you feeling?” Elma asked. She kept sneaking glances at John.

  “Like crap warmed up.”

  “Language, dear,” Clarice scolded.

  “Aw come on. This old girl’s married to a sailor. I think she’s heard worse.” He grinned at Elma.

  She returned a knowing smile, and John thought for a moment that something passed between the old friends and that possibly there might be something more to their relationship.

  “The old salt’s away again?”

  “Yes. His outfit’s been sent to watch the alien spaceship thing. Not that they would do anything to harm it. Our gover
nment is falling over itself to be nice to them.”

  “Probably he’s there to keep the alien safe from the rag-head crazies. I hear they are really pissed.”

  “Dear, we’re at church,” Clarice warned.

  Geoff rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, so they’re somewhat pissed.”

  “Is the spaceship still over Cairo?” Angela asked. All heads turned to her. John had an image pop into his head of a much younger girl not being allowed to speak during adult conversations.

  “Why, yes it is,” Elma said. “Don’t you young people follow the news these-days?”

  Angela’s cheeks reddened. “I just thought…”

  “Although why it’s still there when it is so unwelcome by the locals is anyone’s guess.” The Admiral’s wife threw the question out rhetorically, but her gaze fell on John.

  “I understand that the Chinese have offered the aliens their hospitality,” John said. All eyes bored into him, and John distinctly felt that he too had spoken out of turn. “I read it on the net,” he added by way of explanation.

  “Is anyone going to introduce me to this handsome young man?” Elma asked.

  “No,” Geoff grinned. “Me and Clarice were having a bet to see how long it would be before you asked.” He checked his watch, before adding, “Looks like you won, dear.”

  “Stop all your nonsense,” Clarice said, swatting playfully at him. She paused momentarily before introducing John to Elma. “This is John Hunter. He’s presently keeping company with our Angela.”

  Elma’s eyes widened, betraying her surprise. “But what about…”

  “I’m afraid it didn’t work out with young Ezekiel,” Clarice said.

  “Oh, I can’t keep up with young love these days. So turbulent,” Elma said, throwing her hands up. “Ezekiel seemed such a nice boy, so polite, such a pity.”

  “Yes, it seems so hard to find a good Christian man,” Clarice said, putting emphasis on the word ‘Christian’ as she stole a pointed glance at John.

  “But what about your job at the bookshop? How is that going to work out now?”

  Although the question was directed at Angela, John noticed that it was her mother that tried to answer it. “I suppose we will have to hope that they will do the right thing.”

  “I have a contract, Mom,” Angela said. “They can’t sack me just because I don’t date their son anymore.”

  Behind the older women, John noticed an attractive, forty-something woman coming out of the church front door and approaching. She wore high heels, designer jeans with lots of make-up and bling. She had her eye unwaveringly on him as she advanced.

  “Well, that’s a relief, isn’t it?” Elma said. “But still, it must make it awkward…”

  “We’ll just have to hope that they all act like grown-ups,” Clarice replied before Angela could say anything.

  The immaculately dressed slender woman took her eyes off John just long enough to interrupt their conversation.

  “I seriously doubt they will,” she said by way of introduction. “We’re talking about heart-broken, impetuous young lovers here.”

  “Oh, hello, Caroline,” Elma said. “We were just talking about your Ezekiel.”

  “You must be the nightclub security man,” Caroline said totally ignoring Elma. She cast an appraising look once more over John before glaring at Angela.

  “You work at a nightclub?” Elma asked, her question heavy with distain.

  “That’s how we met,” John said.

  “He returned my phone,” Angela put in, giving John a quick, imploring look. He realized then that Zeke’s mother didn’t know the full story, but now probably wasn’t the best time to update everyone.

  “Wasn’t that nice of you?” Caroline said. “And look what it got you.” She threw another disgusted look at Angela.

  “But what were you doing at one of those nightclubs dear?” Elma asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

  “Zeke wanted to go,” Angela said, returning a glare to Caroline. Elma turned to Caroline, her eyebrows raised in query.

  “Oh come off it, Elma, they’re adults. Don’t tell me you never went to a dance hall when you were young? What was it for you? The ‘Roaring Twenties,’ hmmm?”

  “I’m not that old dear, but yes, we did the twist and all that.”

  “Well, there you go. It’s no different these days. The music’s just louder.”

  “There’s a lot more drugs these days,” John added. As soon as he said it, he saw the horrified looks on Angela’s and her parent’s faces.

  “Is that so?” Caroline said. She took a breath and looked like she was about to say something more, but paused and pursed her lips. “You know John,” she nodded towards the car-park. “We always buy our cars new.”

  “Cars?” John asked. He didn’t follow the change of conversation and gave her a confused look.

  “Yes, that’s right. You don’t want a second-hand car,” she gave Angela a saccharine smile. “You can never tell where it’s been or who’s driven it.”

  “No such thing as ‘One careful lady owner, only driven to church on Sundays’ is there?” John cautiously agreed.

  “Yes, that’s exactly right. Some used cars have been driven so hard and often,” again she gave Angela a pointed look, “that they’re thrashed out. They get all loose and slack and end up needing a full re-bore.”

  John saw Angela had turned away. She bit her lower lip and had her eyes screwed tightly shut. Her mother put an arm around her shoulders.

  “Really, Caroline?” Clarice demanded. “This is too much.”

  “Come along, dear,” Geoff said, tugging at his wife’s sleeve. “Time we were going.”

  Caroline dismissed their concerns with a contemptuous wave of her hand. She wore a satisfied smirk.

  “You sound like you know a bit about cars,” John said.

  “No, not really. I just know all about human nature,” she said to Angela’s back.

  “Well, I don’t know about how you look after your cars,” John said, pointing to his car, “but mine’s from the eighties. It was in pretty bad shape when I got it. It had been knocked around, but I looked after it. A lot of T.L.C. and with time and a lot of hard work, I got it going like new.”

  Caroline looked from John, to the car that he had indicated and then back to John. She raised her eyebrow and fixed him with a disbelieving look. “That car is nothing like new.”

  “It is to me,” he said taking Angela’s hand. “I don’t care who’s driven it before. It’s mine now, and I will always look after it properly.” He took Angela’s hand and with the other, steered Geoff’s wheelchair towards his car.

  “Didn’t I tell you, this one’s a good man?” Geoff said over his shoulder.

  Angela squeezed John’s hand and behind him, he could hear Clarice. “If your boy wasn’t so selfish and spoilt, none of this would have happened.”

  He helped Geoff back into the front seat. He couldn’t hear them, but he could see Clarice and Caroline still bickering as he put the wheelchair in the boot. It looked like Clarice was getting the better of the exchange. She was doing all the finger pointing, alternating between Angela in the car, the people in the church and Caroline herself. John grinned as Caroline looked like she was being told all about the new arrangements.

  As he watched, Caroline’s expression changed. Anger melted from her face as Clarice talked. She looked over to John, and when their eyes met, and slow smirk lifted a corner of her ruby lips.

  ‘Something’s not right,’ his inner voice screamed at him. He watched as Clarice returned to the car wearing a satisfied look. They both were thinking they had won, but if so, ‘who had lost?’

  “Come along now,” Clarice hurried him into the car, his mind still trying to work it all out.

  “Mom, What did you say to Mrs C?” Angela asked, echoing John’s thoughts.

  “Don’t you worry about it, dear,” she said, putting her arms around her daughter. “I just told her a few truths,�
�� a satisfied, grim smile crossed her face, “and how things are going to be now.”

  In the rear-vision mirror, John saw them both glance up at him. Something still didn’t feel right and his inner voice echoed his doubts. He decided to ask Angela about it later, if they ever got a quiet moment alone.

  John was wondering when that might be as he started to reverse the car. Suddenly, a loud thump on the bonnet of the car made them all jump. John stopped the car and saw Zeke running up to Angela’s window.

  “Oh no,” Angela said sinking into her seat.

  “Ignore him, dear,” Clarice said, patting her daughter on her leg and keeping her eyes to the front.

  “Do you want to stop and talk with him?” John asked.

  “No,” Clarice answered for her daughter. “Drive on.” She waved him on.

  Geoff leaned over to John, “Why don’t you stop and sort him out?”

  “Dad, no. Not here.”

  Zeke banged on Angela’s window, demanding her attention.

  “I said drive on,” Clarice urged.

  John took his foot off the brake and the car rolled backwards. Zeke threw his hands up in the air, shouting for them to stop, his frustration giving way to rage.

  Angela wrestled her eyes from Zeke. “This can’t be happening.” She turned to her mother and put her hands to her ears. “He’s making such a scene.”

  “Yes dear, but it’s for his own good.” She hugged her daughter tight.

  John kept reversing. With his arm over the passenger seat, he kept looking from where he was going, to Zeke and then to Angela and her mother in the back seat. As he kept going, Zeke lashed out and kicked Angela’s door hard, sending a resounding thud through the car.

  “That would have made a dent,” Geoff said, mirroring John’s thoughts.

  He was tempted to stop and make a few more dents with Zeke’s head, but seeing Angela’s distress, instead he just shrugged, “It’s only a car,” and kept going.

  When he had reversed as far as he needed, John stopped the car and put it in forward gear. Zeke took this as a sign that his tantrum had worked. He rushed forward and grabbed at Angela’s door handle, tugging at it furiously.

  Angela leapt from her mother’s hold and scrambled at the door, searching frantically. “Where’s the lock? The lock?”