Escape from Paradise

by D. Richard Ferguson

  The pleasures that came with touching his own gold in the city had always been dampened by anxiety—the pressure of having to guard it and the fear of losing it. But this ... the thought of someone else enjoying it only added to his happiness.

  Then the Ruler astonished him. “Anything you see in this room, you may have.”

  Adam looked around the room again, thinking there must be some catch.

  “This is the most important room in the cottage. You will always find me here. When you are afraid, come here and find refuge in my promise of protection. When you are worried, burdened with guilt, angry, needy, tempted, or sad, run to this room. Whatever you need—strength, wisdom, courage, hope, joy—you will find it all here among the treasury of my promises.”

  As the words fell from the Ruler’s lips, they anchored themselves in Adam’s heart. No longer did he feel the need to evaluate them or judge their veracity. They now stood as the foundation of knowledge—the standard against which he must judge all other truth claims.

  “I trust you,” Adam said.

  “Perhaps. But you won’t really know until I lead you somewhere that doesn’t seem best to you. Following me where you already want to go requires no trust.”

  Adam shuddered, recalling Abigail’s description of the room of delights. He hoped he wouldn’t have to go there.

  After a tour of the promise room, the Ruler led Adam into a lounge area where people mingled, laughed, and enjoyed an array of desserts from the tables. Adam could hardly wait to join in the conversation. So much had happened, and he wanted to share his experiences with like-minded people and hear their stories.

  As he approached a dessert table, Adam sensed the Ruler was no longer near him. He turned to see him standing at a doorway to another room.

  With a tip of his head, the Ruler vanished through the doorway. Adam leaned to get a glimpse inside. The dimly lit space stood empty, save a table, a chair, and a lamp. Adam looked again around the lounge. Just a few quick conversations, a bite to eat—couldn’t this other room wait?

  Feeling the loss of the Ruler’s presence, Adam sighed, turned his back on the lounge, and stepped through the doorway.

  Within the room, the Ruler stood at the hand-crafted mahogany table with a rolled parchment. “It’s a map,” he said as he unrolled it and held the two sides flat.

  Adam caught his breath. He recognized the area immediately. The map detailed the region south of the golden city, and in the lower right corner, plain as day, there it was. The pond.

  Adam’s spine tingled. Tears welled up and choked his words. “Is that ...”

  “Yes. It is the pond that brought you into the half-real world.”

  His heart pounded. “If I go there, will it take me back?”

  “Dive into the waters, and you will be as you were before the waters.”

  Adam could hardly speak. The greatest desire of his heart—the pursuit of his entire life lay on the table before him. Kailyn was right. The Ruler did know the way back to his family. Adam imagined the reunion—the joyful embraces, catching up, learning all about their lives, and telling them his story.

  “Can I go there now?”

  “The question is not whether you can, but whether you should. If you go, you will find the pond, but you will not find happiness. You will be happier if you stay here with me. If you go, you can never return. If you choose to stay, you must remain, and the map will be destroyed. The choice is yours.”

  The Ruler walked farther into the room, around a corner, and out of sight, leaving Adam alone with the map.

  My choice? It’s an impossible choice! In his wildest imagination, Adam could not fathom how anything in the cottage could make him happier than going home. And yet, he didn’t think the Ruler would lie. He studied the map the rest of the afternoon and into the evening.

  Why didn’t he just command me to stay here? Or destroy the map and then tell me to trust him? Why force me to make this decision?

  The room, lit by windows, grew dark as night fell. He pulled the lamp close to the table. The light revealed something he hadn’t noticed before—an inscription on the edge of the mahogany table. He pushed the map out of the way. The inscription simply read, “In his joy ...”

  He stood and paced. In his joy? What does that ... Oh! He reached into his pocket for the cottage piece Abigail had given him. “The banquet is like a treasure hidden in a field. A man finds it and in his joy, trades all his gold for the field.”

  The fog cleared. Yes ... yes, I see! This isn’t supposed to be a hard decision. It should be driven by joy.

  He recalled the treasures in the promise room. He remembered the Ruler’s magnificent glory at the banquet hall, his colors in the mirrors, and the amazing food and family warmth at the meal. Even the blood room had become dear to him. What could compare to what he received in that room?

  A smile overtook his face. Then the smile turned to a hearty laugh. He dashed to the table, snatched the map, and ripped it to pieces.

  He ran to catch up to the Ruler, and rounding a corner, collided with him. He would have fallen had the monarch not caught him. They both laughed.

  *****

  Dagon, the warrior assigned to hinder Adam’s progress through the cottage, could feel the heat from the white-hot tip of Anzu’s sword an inch from his face. “You had one job,” the fearsome lieutenant growled. “How hard is it to plant doubt in a man who has lost everything?”

  “I ... tried sir. But ... the cottage piece. It—”

  Anzu thundered. “Do you remember nothing from your training?” He slapped Dagon’s face with the side of his sword. “Use the mirrors, you incompetent little toad.”

  Dagon knew anything he said would only make matters worse, so he held his tongue, bowed, and backed away.

  Anzu’s death-glare did not relent. “You’re fortunate I have more important business in the lowlands right now. You’re getting a rare second chance. There will not be a third. If Adam is not falling through the floor of the promise room by the end of today, you will fall. Now, get back to the cottage and do your job.”

  Chapter 28

  “I don’t care what it costs,” Adam said. “Nothing compares to being here with you. In fact, I tore the—”

  “I saw!” The Ruler pressed his love into Adam with an embrace that satisfied every craving for family Adam had ever had.

  He let go and gripped Adam by both shoulders. With the smile of an excited child he said, “Now, come with me.”

  They left the promise room through a back door, and the Ruler led him down a long, narrow hall. Adam jogged to keep up.

  The corridor appeared to dead end, but the Ruler touched the wall and it opened into a room. Adam entered, and his blood ran cold. “No, not ...” He turned to the Ruler. “Please, I can’t. Not again.”

  Mirrors surrounded him like ten angry executioners. Seeing the void of colors in his heart had been excruciating before. Now, after learning of the Father’s anger toward him ... He covered his eyes.

  “The mirrors are not your enemy, Adam. You will learn to love this room. It won’t be easy, but this is necessary.” The Ruler gently pulled Adam’s hand from his face. “Look.”

  Adam recoiled from the reflections and covered his face again, but the grotesque image remained burned into his memory. No. No—I can’t be that evil.

  For a split-second, a different kind of terror interrupted the agony of his guilt—a dark presence, like when he found the bag of fruit at the downed tree. Hairs stood up on his neck.

  Just as quickly, it was gone. Eyes still covered, a new image arose in his mind. He imagined Levi standing next to him by the mirror.

  If I look this bad, how ugly must Levi’s heart be? I never did the kinds of things he did. I’ve never stolen anything, never hurt anyone. I was always the first to help when buildings fell. I saved Jacqueline Steadman. Memories of past good deeds played out in his mind with surprising clarity—as if he were viewing them live. His tense muscles relaxed.
I am a good person. Sure, I’ve made mistakes, but I’ll make up for them.

  Then he felt the Ruler’s penetrating gaze and realized all his thoughts were laid bare before him.

  The Ruler raised an eyebrow. “Adam, he who justifies himself will have himself as a defense and no other. But he who comes defenseless—I will plead his case.”

  Adam drew a deep breath and blew it out. He squared himself to a mirror and took in the full, sickening image.

  All notions of his goodness, all excuses, all rationalizations rang hollow. He deserved condemnation, and he knew it.

  He didn’t understand all the Ruler had said about the blood room or what he meant by “plead your case,” but he did know the Ruler was his only hope to escape the Father’s wrath.

  He turned from the mirror and fell on his knees. “I’m not in a position to expect any favor from you or the Father. All I can say is please, please—whatever you did in that blood room, apply it to me. Have mercy on me. I have no other hope.”

  The Ruler’s face lit up with a smile radiating happiness that warmed Adam to his core. He gathered Adam in his arms and embraced him with tears and laughter—like an elder brother welcoming home a long-lost sibling.

  “You’ve done it! You have trusted me instead of yourself. Well done!” The Ruler took a carafe from the circular counter, poured a glass, and handed it to Adam.

  Adam held the blue fluid to the light. “Is this the same fluid from the mist?”

  “That’s right.”

  Adam peered into the glass. “What is it?”

  “It’s distilled from my colors. The Father uses it as a way of infusing his life into those he favors.”

  “This fluid infuses life? What does that mean? I’m already alive.”

  “No, you died on your first visit to this room. Drink this and you will live forever—even after your body dies.”

  Adam downed the glass in one swig.

  In a nearby room, a raucous noise erupted—joyful shouts, laughter, and loud music.

  “What’s that all about?” Adam asked.

  “You! The Father and many of his guardians are in that room, and they’ve waited a long time for this moment.”

  “This moment?”

  “The moment you would taste of the Father’s life. No one can drink of it unless he trusts me more than his own feelings and relies on me instead of his own efforts to make himself acceptable to the Father.

  “But ... why? Why does one man trusting another matter so much to them?”

  The Ruler positioned Adam in front of a mirror. “That’s why.”

  Adam forced himself to face the image, bracing for yet another assault from the condemning glass. Instead, he beheld a rainbow of brilliant, gleaming light. The filth now gone, the image bore a striking resemblance to the Ruler himself.

  He stared, captivated. “Is this real? It doesn’t even look like me.”

  “It doesn’t look like the man you used to be,” said the Ruler, “because that man is dead. I assure you, the reflection is quite real. And every day you walk with the wind, you will grow deeper into that reality. You asked before how a person can have my sacrifice applied to his account. The answer is simple—faith. The moment a person trusts me, I paint that person’s soul with my colors.”

  “But my whole life has been ... I’ve done things that—”

  “All is forgiven! My blood has been applied to your account, so your debt is paid. You have now become my brother, with my colors. And the Father’s anger toward you is erased. His love for you is now just like his love for me, because when you trust me, you are connected to me in the Father’s eyes—grace by association.”

  The wind swirled in the room, and a translucent gold chain with a small bar appeared in the Ruler’s hand. He placed it around Adam’s neck. “This is who you are now.”

  Adam ran his finger across the inscription on the bar. My new name. But what does it mean?

  “That name describes your station in the coming war. You must learn its meaning and master the weapon that comes with it.”

  Ever since his conversation with Abigail about her weapon, Adam had daydreamed about when he would get his. What power was he about to receive? The words spilled from his mouth with the eagerness of a child. “What is it? Do I get it now?”

  The Ruler’s solemn tone cooled Adam’s exuberance. “It is a weapon, not a toy. Yours will be one of the mightiest of all weapons. But you will face an adversary who has power to sift you as wheat. It will take your weapon and much more to save your friends.”

  “Friends? Not just Abigail? Are the others in trouble now too?”

  “The battle is the fiercest they have ever faced. And it is about to get worse. Much worse. Watson, Kailyn, and Layth are fighting for their lives at this moment. And the enemy holds Abigail in his clutches.”

  A dark terror rose in Adam’s stomach. “Will they all ... make it?”

  “No, they will not. Life will be lost in this war. But if you master your weapon, some may be saved.” The Ruler began toward the door. “Come.”

  A year’s worth of hopes and fears packed themselves into the few minutes of their somber journey down the hall toward the assignment room. Terror at the thought of facing such a powerful enemy and the grief of knowing at least one of his friends would die nearly paralyzed him. And the eerie howl rising from the far end of the hall didn’t help.

  But when Adam watched the Ruler, the great monarch’s countenance quelled his anxieties. The Ruler’s expression was serious, but not sad. It was the look of a man embarking on a plan that would be costly, but glorious. The Ruler’s straight back and confident stride infused hope into Adam. By the time they reached the assignment room, Adam was a different man.

  The howl had become a roar as they approached, and it was coming from inside the room. The door and the wall surrounding it quaked, as if ready to give way under the strain.

  “What’s going on in there?” Adam asked. “Sounds like a hurricane.”

  “It is a hurricane,” said the Ruler as he took hold of the latch. “And it’s time for you to meet him.”

  *** The End***

  To the Reader

  Thanks for reading!

  I pray you enjoyed it. And if you did, please take a moment to leave a review wherever you purchased the book.

  If you’re eager to find out what happens when Adam meets the Mighty Wind and what becomes of Abigail and the others, feel free to join my Readers List so you’ll be the first to know when volume two of the series is released. You can sign up at DrichardFerguson.com.

  I pray you were edified by the story. It is an extended parable depicting the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ—how a person comes to know God. My goal in writing was to dramatize the truths of the gospel in a way that lodges in the reader’s imagination, drawing both mind and heart to the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ.

  Book two of this series, the story of the attempt to rescue Abigail, is a parable of the Christian life showing how to fight the war against sin and how to escape enslaving sins through walking by the Spirit.

  My prayer is that both volumes will not only edify you, dear reader, but also that they might be a tool you could use to disciple someone else or use in a discussion group or Bible study.

  The layers of meaning in the allegory are designed to serve readers at every level, so those farther along in the journey of studying God’s Word might help younger believers along as they share their insights. Study guides for both volumes are due out soon.

  Finally, I’d love to hear your impressions of Escape from Paradise. Please send me a text at (720) 593-9985‬ and let me know what you thought.

  - D. Richard Ferguson

  Special Bonus Content!

  Chapter 1 of At War With the Wind (book 2 in the series)

  Sweat beaded on Watson’s face as he imagined his sister in the clutches of the enemy. Was it already too late for her? Why did I wait so long?

  Watson’s mind always churned
with planning and strategizing, but this was another level. Rescuing his sister rose above any mission he had ever undertaken. Plans coalesced in thoughts as he gathered supplies in the boathouse with Layth and Kailyn. Rigging, crossing the river, and carrying the boat to the boathouse on the other side shouldn’t take more than a half-hour. If they didn’t stop for rest, the journey up through the grasslands could be done in—

  A distant roar interrupted his calculations. The moment they stepped outside, they saw it—a flash flood tumbling down from the north. In the few minutes they had been in the boathouse, the river had swollen to double its volume and was well over its banks.

  Crestfallen, Watson studied the torrent. “It’s impossible. We would never make it across. We would be swept into the gorge.” He shook his head. “We will have to wait it out.”

  The delay felt like a prison sentence to Watson. Every second that passed was a second lost. But he saw no other option.

  “Where’s Kailyn?” Layth said.

  The men returned to the boathouse and found her inside, tugging at a boat.

  “What are you doing?” Watson said. “We cannot—”

  “We’re going,” she said, without looking up.

  Watson stepped close. “Kailyn, stop.” He placed his hand on hers.

  She stopped pulling and dropped her head.

  “Believe me,” he said. “I want to get to Abigail as much as you. But we will do her no good if we are all dead. Flash floods never last long. We simply need to wait it out.”

  Kailyn’s face hardened like steel. “Do what you want. I’m going. If you won’t help, I’ll swim across.”

  Watson knew her well enough to know she would do it. And he knew the river well enough to know she would not survive.

  “The gorge is four miles of continuous, deadly whitewater. There is no stopping. And the rapids are unnavigable even at normal water levels. Right now the volume is easily seven or eight thousand cubic feet per second. At that volume—”