Forging Truth (The Truth Saga)

by Raymond Masters

  “Son, sit,” she said, choosing to lead by example. We sat there for a second, both looking down at our clasped hands. Finally, she looked at me. When she did, two of the largest tears I’ve ever seen made their way down the curves of her cheeks. Just two, and then they were done. “Kade. My son.” She took a steadying breath.

  “Mom, I –.”

  “Don’t interrupt! Listen, I’ve got a lot to say – and show – and I’d like to get it all out before that fiancé of yours comes back. Okay?”

  I nodded.

  “Good boy. You are a good boy, son. You always were. I never thought otherwise. Not even when I sent you away to The Sisters.”

  I nodded again, trying to honor my mother’s request at not interrupting.

  “Son, you might not believe me, but I had a reason for sending you away like I did.”

  “Jessie says God told you to.”

  She didn’t scold my interruption, but instead said, “Indirectly. I was … I was visited by an angel. Just before you were born.”

  “What?” No seriously, what?

  “Yeah, kind of what I thought, too. I have always been a religious woman, but never ever did I expect to see one of God’s miracles or heavenly creations, up close and personal, this side of death. I always took it on faith that God and his angels were there. It’s the way I was raised. The way I raised you.

  “This angel came to me through your father.”

  “Are you saying dad was an angel with wings and everything? Because if you are, then –.”

  “I said he came to me through your father. It was only temporary. He had a message to give me about my unborn child – just like the angel did with Mary. A message for you, Kade. About you.”

  “Mom, I don’t know.”

  “He said you would be a great man one day, with a greater responsibility to the world. He told me I would share in that responsibility. My job was to raise you until the appointed time. Then, I was to turn you over to God’s service. He said you were the key to keeping evil machinations in check until the Great Hour.”

  “Yeah, mom, that sounds just a little bit …” I paused, not able to put it into words.

  “What about your new abilities, son? What about them?”

  I was floored. I mean, sure I had meant to tell her everything – and probably sooner rather than later – but c’mon. How could she know already? She just couldn’t. Unless … I had to know. “Have you spoken with Caduceus?”

  “No, son. I’m not sure who that is, but I have not.”

  “Then, how?”

  “How could I know?” She reached for the curler box, resting on her pillow. “I think you should probably open this.” I took it from her, thinking it felt as light as a feather. As I unzipped the lid, she continued explaining: “Kade, I didn’t want to tell you this. Not any of it. I didn’t want to give it to you at all or even acknowledge its existence. All I wanted to do was forget the angel had spoken to me about you and get back to having my baby boy. (Isn’t it funny? I am one of the few modern people blessed to get a face-to-face with an angel, and all I wanted to do was bury the encounter altogether.)”

  I sat the lid to the box on the bed beside my leg and looked inside. It had been emptied of its original contents. I had thought earlier how light it had felt. My exact thoughts came back to me now, shocking a bark of laughter from me. It had been light as a feather for a reason. It literally contained just that. I reached in to pick it up, trying to choose my next words carefully. I didn’t want her to think I thought she was totally loopy, but was I supposed to believe this was an angel’s feather or something?

  I was still thinking my cynical thoughts, as my fingers contacted the feather. Immediately those thoughts – and all others – were wiped from my mind. No, it wasn’t the return of my amnesia; I simply wasn’t able to think of anything at all in the wake of the glorious hosannas that rang in my ears. The singing was like ambrosia. It was like putting the whole of serenity into one note. One note? Thousands of them. Millions. All singing the same chorus. After a while, the singing began to fade, and I was able to form a cognizant thought, once more.

  I turned to my mother to apologize for having ever doubted her and to ask what on Earth was going on. I stopped short, however, feeling the blood drain from my face. I have no idea what kept me from falling over, right there, for we were no longer alone. My father, whom I hadn’t seen since I was a boy, floated, serenely, not four feet in front of us.

  I sprang to my feet, then. “Dad,” I cried, feeling my head start to swim once more. This reunion had just gotten so, so much weirder.

  10

  “Dad, please, say something,” I pleaded. But, the figure continued to hover, silently, instead. I started to move forward to wrap my arms around him, but he stopped me with a wave of his hand. It was glowing, that hand. In fact, I noticed his entire being emanated a soft radius of light. Speaking for the first time, he said, “Kade Christopher Truth: you are not The Way, The Truth, or The Life; you are not the Messiah, nor are you His second coming. You are but a tourniquet, a temporary fix to combat the Great Evil, should it arise prior to the appointed time. Prior to the Great Hour of the Revelation of John.” He didn’t wait for me to comment. What could I have actually said to that? “There are things you must see, Kade Christopher Truth, if you are to truly understand yourself, your mission, and your enemies, for they are vast.”

  “Things I must … see? What sort of things?”

  “Son, take my hand.” And because it felt like it really was my father speaking this time and not some angel speaking through him, I reached out and clasped hold of my destiny.

  Instantly, my head filled with images of a vast book, its pages spanning the horizon. Those pages began to turn in my mind. As they fluttered past, I caught glimpses of cobbled roads, small fishing villages, a huge wall of water, and various robed and sandaled figures. Many sported long beards and equally lengthy hair. When the pages stopped, it wasn’t on one of these bearded men. Instead, it had zeroed in on a small cottage and two young men just returning from toiling in the fields.

  IN THE BEGINNING

  THE CURSE

  “Mother, mother! See what I have brought from the fields. I have done well, and the Lord shall be pleased,” said the young man, entering the cottage. Hanging from his shoulder was a large basket that was bursting with produce.

  “Cain, my beloved son, let us see what you’ve brought.”

  “I come baring these luscious berries and figs. That is not all, either. Since the soil has brought forth abundance this year, I thought I could spare some as a love offering and testament to my faith in God to provide for the land. My brother will truly be ill when he sees the multitude of fresh fruit I can give up this week.”

  “Cain, please. The Lord is where your heart should be. Do not boast over what you have to give. Give in a silent, humble manner to the Lord. Remember to always give for His honor and glory, not to make yourself look better.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Cain sulks. Just then, the front door is opened, and in walks a second young man.

  “Mother, Brother Cain, come quickly, for I have something I want to discuss with you. I am just in from the stables, and God has provided over and above anything we have ever dreamed! Our cattle and goats are the fattest I have seen in any surrounding lands. It is truly a miracle and testament to our faith. With your blessing, I will offer the fat portions of our firstborn flock this week. God has been so kind to us, and this will show him how thankful and humbled we are.”

  “That is a very gracious offering, Abel. Your brother was just telling me of his desire to do the same with some fruits from his crop. Perhaps you two could do so together.”

  “That would be very nice, indeed, eh, brother?”

  “We shall see, second born, whom God looks favorably upon this afternoon.”

  When the time came to give their offerings, Abel went before God, and he said, “Lord, I am here.”

  “Abel, thou good
and faithful servant … You could have brought me aged or lame for a sacrifice, but instead you have brought with you the fattened meat from the firstborn of your flocks. You have shown me love and devotion. For this, I am very pleased, and I will reward you and yours for all of your days.”

  Then, came Cain to the altar of the Lord, saying: “Cain, firstborn of the house of Adam, is here, as well. I have brought a multitude of fresh fruits and vegetables from the gardens, to gain favor.”

  “You seek to gain favor where none is given, son Cain. I am the Lord, thou God, yet you have brought me only berries and figs that can be found wild upon the hill, as far as a man can travel.”

  Hearing Gods words, Cain began to anger. Feeling his face start to flush, he looked away. God spake unto him, saying, “Why are you angry? Why is your face downcast? If you do what is right, will you not be accepted? But if you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you, but you must master it.”

  Unable to cool his anger, Cain turned to his brother and said, “Let us go into the field. I would have you show me where you tend your flocks.” They walked until they reached the farthest end of their land, where Abel indicated he had found the animals he had offered as sacrifice. “Please, brother,” Cain purred, “Enlighten me on the process you underwent to select just the right offering. Be sure not to skimp on the details.”

  “I will be more than happy to guide you. I am very blessed to have a brother as great as thou, who does not hold a grudge. It is a strong bond we share.” As Abel spoke, he turned his back to Cain, motioning with grand gestures as he recounted his selection process for the goat and calf. Facing away, then, he could not see the horrible symmetry with which Cain was engaged. “First, brother, I scanned the field for the perfect candidate.”

  (Cain searches the rock-strewn path, certain he would find the right tool for the job ahead.)

  “When I found the fattest one, I reached out and pulled it from the flock.”

  (Finding one, particularly large stone, he reaches and pulls it free from the mud.)

  “I lifted my arms to the heaven, singing God’s praises”

  (Sun glints off the stone as Cain arches it high overhead)

  “before falling on my face, prostrating myself to God.”

  (before bringing it down on the back of Abel’s head, knocking him to the ground.)

  After Cain had slain his brother, God came to him and asked, “Where is your brother Abel?”

  “I know not. Am I my brother’s keeper,” Cain replied, coolly.

  “Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground. I curse you, firstborn of Adam. You are driven from the ground, the same ground that opened up and received your brother’s blood from your hand. When you work the land, it will no longer yield its crop for you. You will be a restless spirit among the earth.”

  “The punishment is too great. You are driving me from the land, as well as your presence. I will be a wanderer upon the earth, and when someone comes upon me, they will surely kill me.”

  “Not so. If a man kills thee, he will suffer vengeance seven times over.” And God placed a mark upon Cain so those who encountered him would not kill him.

  (And the pages turned.)

  THE TOMB

  When the women looked up, they saw the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.

  “Do not be alarmed,” he said, “You are looking for Jesus, the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him.”

  And when they had left, the angel walked over to the heavy stone. “This stone has been in the presence of the resurrection, and it is too powerful to be left unattended.” Without another word, he dashed the stone to dust. After seeing what his hasty actions had wrought, the angel knelt and swept the remaining powder into his palm and encased it in his fist. For nearly two thousand years, he held it in that fashion. When the angel judged it time, he opened his palm to inspect his work. There, on the unlined surface of his hand, rested a smooth, white stone. As the angel laid his first finger upon the top of the rock, a word appeared. Being certain not to glance in the direction of the writing – for he knew the word was not for his eyes – the angel carried the stone to its ordained resting place.

  (And the pages turned.)

  THE GIFT

  My father’s voice, shook with passion, as he read from the book: “To him that overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.”

  (And the pages turned.)

  THE BOYS ARE BACK IN TOWN

  1

  Just like that, it was all over – the vision, dad or the angel or whoever – all of it, gone, leaving me standing back in my mother’s room, holding her curler box in one arm and the feather in the other. My hands were soaked with sweat, so I replaced the feather and wiped them dry. Was any of it real? Had I actually just gotten to hang out with my dad in the Old Testament days? Exactly what type of circus had my life turned into since the attack?

  Suddenly, my mom’s arms were around me, consoling me. I had forgotten she was even in the room. On top of that, I was still so out of it I hadn’t even realized I needed consoling. Mama knew, though. Mamas always know.

  I drew back and took her hands in mine. “That wasn’t him, was it? It wasn’t really dad?”

  “No, son. I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t your father.”

  “You didn’t see him? You didn’t see what he showed me? Mom, it was like being smack dab in the middle of the Bible. Beginning, middle, and end. I was with Cain and Abel in Genesis, at first. Well, not with them, but with them. I don’t know why, but I got to bear witness to the world’s first murder.”

  I continued filling her in on the details of what I had just experienced. I told her about the tomb, the angel, and the stone I would one day take into my chest. The stone, which gave me my powers.

  “Mom, what did he mean by that? Hidden manna? The white stone with the name on it only I would know?”

  “The necklace,” she said. When she said it, her face contorted as if she had taken a swig of strong lemonade. “That necklace was a gift from your father along with the feather. I was to give both to you on your sixteenth birthday.”

  “But you sent me away when I was sixteen.”

  “Yes, Kade. When you turned sixteen, you were enrolled at The Sisters. That was by design, son. I didn’t think you were ready for that kind of news, nor that kind of responsibility, at such an age.”

  “You mean, like I’m ready for it now,” I asked incredulously.

  She nodded, “I know, I know. But I was scared, then. I’m scared now. Everyone wants to know God’s mind, but as soon as I found out He had designs on you, son, I panicked. I sent you to that school, hoping you would still gain a religious arsenal, but I wanted you as far away from that stone and that message as possible. Was I wrong in sending my son away? Probably. Was I wrong in disobeying the Lord? Most definitely.

  “Had I perhaps given it to you, rather than waiting over a decade later to do so, perhaps this poor ol’ world wouldn’t be in it’s current state.”

  “Oh, whatever. Mom, you can’t think like that. Besides, it’s kind of a moot point. I mean you didn’t give it to me then. I don’t really see what I could’ve done. I’m supposed to hold off some evil uprising? But, I’m just some kid from Oklahoma.”

  “Except you have powers. I know you do, son.” She shook her head. “What I don’t have is even the foggiest clue what those abilities might be. Would you mind?”

  “Would I give you a little demo or something?”

  She nodded. When I started to protest, she only looked at me expectantly.

  “I remember that look,” I said, defeated. “Sure, mom. Do you mind waiting until Jessie gets back,” I asked. I didn’t like
the idea of being on center stage, and Jess really needed to see this, too.

  “I knew you were going to tell her.” The way she said it left little doubt about my mom’s feelings.

  “Mom, you’ve got to stop saying things like that. Please, Jessie’s my fiancé, and you’ve really got to get over it. Besides, you two seem to really hit it off.” I was almost whining, but I couldn’t help it. I really didn’t like the idea of the two women I loved most in my life not liking one another.

  “No, son. I do like her. I don’t know. I just get this feeling every now and again. I know she loves you, I can tell she even cares for me, but sometimes it seems she has her own agenda with you.”

  I rolled my eyes, “Mom, of course she’s got her own agenda with me. I’m her hottie boyfriend.” I waggled my eyebrows to show I was only mocking.

  “Kade Christopher, you go to your room. Talking to your mother so.” She smiled, and once again the subject was dropped.

  It was a good thing, too, for just then, I heard Jessie’s car pull into the drive. “That’s her, mom. I’m going to see if she needs any help bringing anything in. You behave.” She formed a halo with her hands and placed it over her head. After our conversation and my little visit, it wasn’t that humorous. Mom must’ve realized it, too, because she quickly put it away and sat on her hands to keep them from betraying her further.

  2

  By the time I had made it to the front door, Jess had already beaten me there. “Hey, sweetie. Need any help with any …” My words died in my throat, waiting for my brain to catch up to what my eyes were seeing just over her shoulder. Jessie moved past me and into the house.

  As she did so, my old friend Stephen Marks made his way up the two porch steps, lugging his oversized duffle. He grinned, taking in my slack-jawed response. “You can take this,” he said, shoving his bag into my sternum, knocking what little breath I had recovered right back out. Then he added, with his customary smirk, “Sweetie.”