Sacred Flesh

by Timothy Cavinder

  It was then he learned that he was cloned from the DNA of Christ via the sacred sample obtained by The Church some twenty one years ago. “But how?” he asked in shock and surprise. They told him everything, of the various samples that claimed to be derived from the circumcision of our Lord when He lived upon the Earth. They told him of the Elite, those evil rivals and how the Church infiltrated the group and bought the sacred sample from one of their leaders. “You are as of the Lord Himself in the sense that you have your mother’s chromosomes but those of your father are from The Father.” This they told him.

  To say he was taken aback would be an understatement but they gave him time to think and let it all settle in and so it did as he stood there mulling it over in his mind: I am the Son of Christ. Wow! How about that! I just can’t believe it though it’s too unreal. I feel like an ordinary person how can I be considered so close to God Himself? I wonder what they would do if I just left? If I just took off, somewhere I could be alone.

  CHAPTER 3

  “You will go with us. It is only proper that you are there when we destroy the pretender,” says Colin, Jerome’s right hand man for this assignment. Tall and muscular with his long hair pulled back into a ponytail he stands next to Jerome as they meet in Eric’s room to finalize their plans.

  “Do I have to watch? Do you expect me to do it myself? We’re not going to use a cross are we?” Eric asks.

  “No, no that’s been done to death, we’re much more modern. Like I said just to have you there is a blessing,” Jerome tells him. “We had always suspected that Rome had obtained one of the three samples, though theirs was only ordinary human flesh they believed it to be Sacred and as such cloned it giving birth to a son whom they plan to install as the new Pope.”

  “The Son of Christ as the new Pope! It would be something to pull that off,” Eric says.

  “Yes, that would be big for them except as I said their clone isn’t from the sacred sample. you are the only Son of Christ. Of course, Rome will never believe that they don’t have the Holy Clone and then we will just be locked in another continuous battle with them. No more battles. The only way is to destroy the pretender and be done with this once and for all,” Jerome says.

  “We know where he is at. It shouldn’t be difficult. Once the pretender is dead you will be installed officially and the announcement will be made to the world that the Son of Christ is here to lead the rightful church of the Holy Elite. Rome will crumble. Her followers will finally become ours!” Colin says.

  “Get your processions in order. Our flight leaves tomorrow,” Jerome says.

  “Okay,” he answers.

  After they leave he sits pondering his fate to lead a world church. He looks at his hands, fingers, and arms, all this from the DNA of Christ? My flesh from His, how could this be? Is it really true? I feel like a puppet in this grand agenda of theirs, it is as if they are making my life for me.

  He remembers all the moving around when he was growing up, how he was made to feel special, never a normal kid. Why couldn’t I have lived in a house with parents and siblings and a yard and a sidewalk instead of growing up behind walls always protected from some unseen threat, So much has passed me by, he thinks while folding his hands in front of his face, so much.

  CHAPTER 4

  His many years as an electrical contractor have seen much commercial and residential work. This however, is the first church he has rewired. The red brick beauty is old. He’s rarely seen such ancient wiring. Moses himself must have done some of this work. Even though he has two assistants working with him: (Bob the trustworthy one and Jimmy: some kid, a friend of his brother in law, helpful though not too bright, hope the little guy doesn’t fry himself someday.) He decided to do the rough work himself although crawling around in the crawl space like this is hard on his fifty year old body. But he is the only one who can do the job right. And besides, work takes his mind off other things, so in that sense he welcomes it but still this job is a lot of trouble, more than he expected, he doesn’t want to have to return on this one.

  It is dark and dank down here, just as he expected and the old gray wiring looks scary, a fire just waiting to happen. It’s here in this crammed dark crawl space attaching the wire clamp to the wooden support he bumps into something, feeling around he brings it forward in front of his face, lying there on his back looking at it he wonders why would someone put a small metal brown box down here?

  CHAPTER 5

  “It is magnificent, the epitome of grandeur,” Colin comments.

  “Yes, medieval architecture is truly something to behold,” Jerome says looking at the cathedral.

  “I wish we could have slept more. I feel a little jet lagged,” Eric says standing next to him with burry eyes and messed up hair.

  “I know we got over here in a hurry but we don’t have a great deal of time. We must accomplish our mission and return to America in time for your installment as leader of the rightful Elite church,” Jerome says.

  “Tell me again, why did we come to this place?” Eric asks.

  “The grand cathedral of Velona it is where the pretender worships. We are waiting for him to come out then we will follow him back to his residence. The dark and winding country road should provide enough of a cover to do what we need to do,” Jerome says.

  “Are you sure I don’t have to watch?” He asks.

  “No, as I said it’s just a blessing for you to be here. This is, after all our troubles the final obstacle before the great glory of the Elite is realized,” Jerome tells him.

  They stare in silence at building and the surrounding garden with its marble columns.

  “Colin will stay with us as we begin to move in. We want to get as close as possible to ensure a minimum of complications,” Jerome informs him.

  “There he is, come on we’ll go down and get a good look at this pretender,” Colin says as they move down to the garden of the cathedral with its waterfalls and statues in the garden. They quicken their pace. It is night and the flood lights and candles illuminate the marble and ivory. The garden is mostly deserted being a Tuesday evening. Soon all three of them are in the garden.

  “Here he comes,” Jerome says as Roland walks out of the huge wooden doors of the Cathedral.

  “Who is that with him?” Eric asks.

  “His bodyguard, but that’s not a problem. We have plans for him too,” Jerome says. Roland and his bodyguard stop at the statue of the Virgin Mary. Roland stands there in silence staring at the pristine Mother holding her baby. The Child. The Savior. He stares at the tiny arms, hands and fingers. He feels his own fingers and hands. His flesh and mine from the same source, he ponders the great magnitude of such a situation. No one who has ever lived upon the Earth has ever been so blessed and yet so burdened with such great responsibility. How can I lead the Church as no other ever has? He begins to turn and walk back to the white van with his bodyguard Hans and return to the residence.

  “He’s moving!” Colin says.

  “Let’s go!” Jerome turns to Eric and smiles: “This is it!”

  Just then, before a single second had passed, before there was time for anyone in the square to utter another word or complete another solitary thought it happened. Gunshots were rare around the area even during the war the cathedral was by passed by both the Nazis and the Allies. But now they rang out with such sudden and shaken velocity to quickly elicit the most immediate shock, for a delayed instance the ever present instinct to run or fight remains dormant as if some bizarre slow motion dreamscape is being played out for all its participants. The bullets ring and ricochet. Roland’s bodyguard reaches for his 9mm while the others and Jerome standing beside Eric take out their weapons and began firing, not completely certain as to where exactly to aim their hurried return. But soon it doesn’t matter as Roland’s bodyguard goes down hard, a quick and decisive hit to the head, a brilliant red stream of blood pollutes the marble as he falls backwards. Roland, shocked and with no weapon of his own seeks what
ever compromised shelter the marble column offers. Jerome and Colin have returned so many rounds they know they need to reload yet this very act will surely prove their immediate demise. They frantically look around, who is firing on them now that Hans is cut down? They realize that there are more shooters then they expected. Hans must have back up. Soon the bullets ring closer hitting Colin in the legs, arms, and shoulders, he falls hard with great energy. Eric’s heart races, now there is only one defender left, “Stay behind me,” Jerome says keeping his cool as they couch behind the large column. The gunfire stops. Then they hear the hurry of footsteps, more than one set coming quick. Jerome knows he only has two rounds left in the chamber, hardly enough to put up a fight but he can get a couple of good shots off if they get close enough. But first there’s business to take care of.

  Jerome sees Roland hiding behind the marble column across the garden and thinks to himself, if anyone gets out of here alive it can’t be him. Aiming for the head he stretches out his arm and levels the .45 caliber.

  A single shot rings out and then silence until the footsteps approach: “Stand up!” he says to Roland who is still couched behind the marble column. “You too, stand up.” He motions to Eric. “You can both stop shaking you’re no longer in harm’s way,” he says stepping over Jerome’s now lifeless body on the ground.

  “You’ve just gunned down three people, how can I believe you?” Roland says getting up and walking toward him as he and Eric look around at the fallen bodies, “Who are you people, what do want: money?” He says to the two large men standing before them with guns drawn.

  “Relax, you are both safe with us.” He tells them as they both slowly lower their guns. “This may be hard to believe but we are here to help you. We came here to get you, in order to save the both of you. Now, I have to ask the two of you to come along with us, you need to trust us,” he says, very cool for someone who has just skillful shot and killed three people, but to him it’s just business and business is business nothing more, nothing less. Getting paid to do something means do it right he’s always subscribed to that sentiment, which is why he’s one of the top in his field. Which is why he was hired for this important job, second best just wasn’t going to cut it on this one, as his employer well knew.

  “I guess we have no choice,” Eric says.

  “No, you don’t,” he says bluntly.

  On the tarmac is the private charted jet plane. The two clones are quickly escorted onboard.

  “Everyone fasten? We’re about to take off,” the large guard says.

  “To where?” Eric asks.

  “America. There’s someone there who wants to talk to the both of you.”

  “That’s refreshing,” Roland says.

  “It’s a hell of a long way to go just to talk,” Eric says.

  “It is a long way, but trust me you won’t be sorry.”

  “Are you going to tell us who you are?” Roland asks.

  “I can’t tell you that, it would spoil the surprise.”

  “I don’t like surprises,” he answers.

  “This one you will.”

  “I doubt it,” Roland says.

  “Why don’t you fellows just chill out for awhile it’s a long flight.” He turns and walks toward the cabin.

  “This is bull!” Eric says as the two clones sit next to each other.

  “What are you worried about? It’s me they want. They will probably want to hold me for ransom,” Roland says.

  “You?” Eric says.

  “You don’t know who I am, my life holds great implications for the world,” he tells him.

  “Not really,” Eric says.

  “What?” Roland asks.

  Eric turns in his seat and begins punching Roland who has trouble defending himself. The commotion quickly raises the attention of the staff.

  “Hey!” the guard shouts while rushing toward them, once separated they are seated in opposite areas of the plane. Roland sits toward the back, licking his wounds as his face displays a few bruises. The two staff men speak in hushes voices as night arrives and the cabin lights are dimmed.

  “Can you believe the little jokers are fighting each other?”

  “Yeah, if they only knew.”

  CHAPTER 6

  It doesn’t look like much, he thought while putting the box in the glove compartment of his company van. A locked metal box shouldn’t be difficult to open. It must be important to have been hidden down there or was it simply forgotten?

  He drives home through traffic, it’s Friday, finally the weekend. Alone, some peace, he drinks cans of beer long into the night thinking but trying not to think too much, not to think about how different everything is since her passing, how nothing will ever be the same again.

  CHAPTER 7

  Time: that great equalizer, no one escapes its effects; everyone resides under its influence. No exception to this is Jim Dunbar, who now, like everyone else is twenty one years past the experience that changed his life forever. Since retiring from teaching he discovered the fulfillment of his driving niche within the bio research firm he established not long after the reconciliation with his wife and daughter. He became wealthy when his ‘working flesh’ model soared to the top of the market. He was bestowed expert status in his field and with that the respect he always longed for. Finally, people cared and took an interest in his work. He wasn’t alone anymore and for that he was happy. But something was always gnawing at him, something in the far back of his mind.

  It is no mistake that in every moment we possess the sum of our experiences and as that sum increases with the occurrence of every moment there are inevitably some experiences that we attempt to ignore hoping that they will welter like the pale brown leaves of a plant surrendering to an environment devoid of water, sunlight, and attention. And so Jim Dunbar carried with him all these years the experience of his dealings with the Elite. Though time may forgive it never completely erases such uneasy thoughts.

  “Here we are gentlemen, your destination,” the guard says pulling the white van into the driveway of the large red two-story house.

  “You bought us all this way to some guy’s house?” Eric says.

  “Not just some guy,” he answers.

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble you people are in? I don’t care who this guy is!”

  “Oh, I think you’ll care.”

  “Then tell us now why all the secrecy? It reminds me of my youth,” Eric says.

  “Mine too,” Roland offers.

  They walk into the house via the front doors. The two don’t speak knowing their escorts carry guns. They wonder if this is their end. But how could that be? Why doesn’t someone come to their immediate aid? For two people who have grown up accustomed to constant protection, this helplessness proves an entirely new and foreign experience.

  “In there,” the guard points to the large white twin doors partially open. The two trade very somber looks.

  “Go on,” he prods them forward.

  Reluctantly, they walk toward the doors, pause then enter. If this is to be their demise then so be it.

  “Hello, hello,” Jim says with energy uncommon for a seventy year old man as he rises from his overstuffed tan chair with the aid of a wooden cane.

  They gaze at him in complete disbelief as to why so much trouble has been expended to bring them here in this large office in front of some old man who can barely stand up. They do not notice the great amount of papers and books sitting in the large walled walnut bookcases.

  Everyone remains silent for a few uncomfortable seconds.

  “Sit down,” he says limping to a large oak desk with twin chairs on the other side.

  “There,” Jim points to the chairs as they slowly walk over and sit down looking straight ahead. Jim sits behind his desk with a slight plop. “Ah,” he lets out a grasp of air and then a bit of gas. “Oh, excuse me.” The two pretend not to notice.

  “Listen old man, I don’t know what kind of game you think you’re pl
aying but this is bull!” Roland stands up and pulls out the handgun which unbeknownst to the others he got off his bodyguard and had hidden in his pants.

  “Jesus!” Jim says his eyes bulging open.

  “Close,” Roland says.

  “Now hold on a minute,” Jim shouts, holding up his hands.

  “Where did you get that?” Eric says looking up at Roland.

  “Never mind, this crap has gone on long enough. Now why in the hell did you bring us here? Who are you people? What do you want?” Roland yells, his face contorted and red, his hands shaking.

  “You idiot sit down! You’re going to get us both killed,” Eric says.

  “You’re sweating, you have every right to be upset but why don’t you sit down. I can explain everything,” Jim pleads.

  “No damn it! I told you.” but before he can finish they all turn quickly as the large doors quickly swing open.

  “Boss, what’s going on?” The guard pulls out a .45 from his jacket.

  “NO!” Jim jumps up while Roland quickly moves behind the desk and grabbing him by the shoulder points the gun at Jim’s head.

  “Drop it!” Roland says to the guard.

  “What the hell are you doing? You’re going to get us all killed, do you realize that?” Eric says while still sitting in the chair.

  “Roland,” Jim says quietly. “You wouldn’t shoot your own father would you?”