by John Lyman
As everyone clamored onboard the speedboat, John took his place on a raised seat behind the wheel and turned the key. Immediately, the engine came to life with a muted rumble that grew into a throaty roar as they moved out into the harbor. Inching the throttles forward, the bow rose steadily through the water as John steered the boat out into open water toward the Carmela. Standing behind him on tiptoes, Ariella wrapped her arms around his shoulders and laid her head against his tanned back, her long hair whipping in the slipstream as she closed her eyes against the saltwater spray.
Sitting next to Lev on the padded seat in the back of the boat, Leo watched the young couple with a mixture of joy and sadness. He felt a great sense of satisfaction that these two had found happiness with each other, but his joy was tinged with sadness at the fact that he would forever have a void in his life. He would never experience the same closeness with a woman. No one would ever hold him the way Ariella held on to John. His only embrace came from his faith, for that was the path he had chosen.
Only a few of the cardinal’s closest friends knew that he fought a constant internal battle with the issue of celibacy and marriage. His rough-chiseled features and intelligent green eyes had attracted more than one woman throughout his life, and for some odd reason, his Roman collar had actually acted as a magnet to some. But despite his yearning to share his life with another, Leo had come to terms with the fact that life wasn’t always fair to those who served. He had always managed to remain faithful to his vows, but in his view, the Church’s demand for priests to remain celibate had condemned thousands of men to a life of unnatural solitude. More and more he was coming to believe that this demand for a life filled with reflective isolation was a throwback to the Middle-Ages, to an unenlightened era in history, when enforcing deprivation on others was power.
Now, in the twenty-first century, as information circled the globe at the speed of light, a new generation of priests had become filled with a fierce resolve-a resolve for change. They had become convinced that the Church’s failure to acknowledge a man’s God-given right to marry and have a family was the one thing most responsible for the scandals that had befallen the modern priesthood.
The year before, when Leo had first met John as a young man considering the priesthood, he had counseled him to choose his vocation wisely due to this very issue. John had agonized between his ambition to serve God as a priest and his desire to marry and raise a family. The matter had finally been settled in Israel when John and Ariella looked into each other’s eyes for the first time. Game over. The Church had lost another promising candidate.
A shadow looming over the speedboat caused Leo to look up as the gleaming white superstructure of the Carmela towered above them. Pulling up alongside the yacht’s dark blue hull, John expertly reversed the speedboat’s engines to keep from slamming into the wooden stairway that descended down the side of the yacht from the deck above. Rising and falling with the swell of the ocean, John tried to steady the small boat while Lev scrambled onto the bow and threw a line to a deckhand standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Up on the bridge, Alex Pappas, the Carmela’s captain, stood against the railing, smoking a cigarette. He looked down on the scene below with eyes that matched the color of the sea he had lived on for most of his adult life. His short black hair contrasted with the stark white uniform he wore with pride, and like his father and grandfather before him, he had followed in the footsteps of generations of Greek sea captains who had guided ships across the Mediterranean Sea for thousands of years.
“Secure that speedboat,” Pappas bellowed to the deckhands below. “We’re starting the engines in fifteen minutes.”
The yacht’s mixed crew of men and women looked up and watched as he flicked the remainder of his lit cigarette overboard and walked back into the bridge. The young crewmembers sprang into action, for they knew that their beloved Greek captain always meant what he said, and that in exactly fifteen minutes, the twin turbines of the two-hundred-and-thirty-foot yacht would begin propelling the huge boat away from the coastline and out to sea.
As the crew took charge of stowing the speedboat below decks, Leo and Lev followed John and Ariella up the polished wooden stairs to the main deck.
“We’re going up to the bridge to watch the departure,” John said. “Aren’t you two coming? The view is spectacular from up there.”
“It’s pretty spectacular from here too,” Lev said, settling back into a cushy lounge chair next to a table under a blue canvas awning. “Tell Alex we’ll be up in a minute.”
Shrugging his shoulders, John grabbed Ariella’s hand and the two headed up some outside stairs to the bridge. Seconds later, a female crewmember exited the aft salon with a tray in her hand. She was wearing the crew’s standard uniform of dark blue shorts and a blue-and-white-striped polo shirt with the name of the yacht, Carmela, emblazoned in gold script over the left chest. Bending from the waist, she set two glasses of sparkling white wine at their table before disappearing back inside.
“I had forgotten how much I loved being on this boat,” Leo said, lying back in a recumbent deck chair next to Lev and gazing out at the harbor.
“I know. I love it too. Sometimes I feel more at home on this boat than I do on land. Still, I can’t help but feel a little guilty sitting here amidst all of this luxury, especially in view of what just happened to all of those poor souls back on the highway.”
Leo took a long sip from his glass and stared out at the water. “Life is for the living, Lev, and we have to press on if we are to have any chance at all of stopping this thing. Now that I think of it, this boat is probably one of the best places in the world to be right now. It’s mobile and easily isolated … a perfect home base for what we need to do. Everything happens for a reason, so we should count our blessings that we have our own little island of safety right now.”
“What you just said reminds me of something I’ve been thinking about since we came onboard. Now that the world is at the mercy of a virus that’s capable of killing millions, we’ve arrived at a kind of crossroads in human history. No one knows where this thing will strike next. Panic will soon rule the cities, and others will be looking for similar places of safety. Untold thousands will be seeking to escape the virus until the threat has passed. I’ve sent word to our people guarding the compound back in Israel to block all access. For now, no one comes in and no one goes out. The same thing goes for this boat except for designated team members who will have to make shore excursions from time to time.”
“I suppose you’re right. We’re going to have to start looking at the world in a whole new way. For all practical purposes, the planet we live on is rapidly becoming a dangerous alien environment.”
“That’s exactly the way we need to start looking at our surroundings when we leave the boat. We have no idea when or where the pathogen will pop up next and what effect it will have on any given population. Of course, in Israel, we’ve always been faced with hostile threats, but according to the Bible, our greatest threat still lies ahead. My wife and I always kept the biblical warnings of Revelation at the forefront of our thinking, especially when we built the villa and the compound surrounding it. I don’t think I ever mentioned this to you before, but throughout the years, I’ve been in contact with other like-minded communities similar to ours in Israel.”
“You mean people have built other compounds like the one surrounding your villa?”
“Most of them were built by friends I’ve known throughout the years … friends who believe as I do. We wanted to create places of safety for our families and friends to go to if something catastrophic occurred in the world. A lot of people scoffed at our Noah’s Ark mentality, and I hate to say it, but a lot of them are probably wishing they had listened to us now.”
“Are they all in Israel?”
“Two of them are. They are both kibbutz-like compounds like the one at the villa. There’s another located near the Aude River in southern France, and two more in Americ
a. All of them were started by some very interesting people.”
“I sincerely hope you’re not describing something along the lines of those end-of-world religious cults that seem to pop up in the headlines from time to time … the kind that give the rest of us in the religious community a black eye.”
“Oh, no, they’re nothing like that. They were conceived with Christian belief systems in mind, but there’s nothing cult-like about them. One of the communities in America is quite large. Apparently, one group bought up hundreds of acres of farmland in an area of the country where the local farmers had fallen on hard times. Some of the farmers actually returned to live for free in homes they had lost to the bank. They now run the farming operation while the other residents are involved in outside professions. Everyone owns their own homes and they come and go as they please. They have elected boards and there’s no guru in charge telling them how they should worship. The other one was built by a wealthy businessman in Chicago who bought a skyscraper, gutted it, and had the interior rebuilt to suit their needs. Apparently, he was becoming alarmed at the wholesale change in moral values and the increasing rate of violent crime in the city. The entire building is self-contained … they’re not dependent on anything from the outside.”
“Sounds like a ship at sea.”
“That’s a good analogy, Leo. It’s very much like a ship … a ship in a sea of social and moral uncertainty. They depend mostly on solar energy for their power, grow their own food, and recycle everything. It’s quite an operation. It felt like I was in a model for a city of the future when I was there last year. After my visit, we adopted some of their technology for the farm in Israel.”
“What about the one in France?”
“That one is probably my favorite. It’s a modern-day remnant of an old hippie commune built around the ruins of an old castle. Their fields produce some of the best wine in the world, and like the other communities, they’re totally self-sufficient.”
This was getting interesting. Lev had always been an enigma to Leo. He was wealthy and powerful, yet almost overly generous and very protective of those he loved. As long as Leo had known him, Lev had never mentioned any of these self-sufficient, kibbutz-like compounds, or the fact that they all communicated with each other.
Lev stood and pulled one of his new cigars from his shirt pocket and lit it with a match. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, Leo, I think I’ll go topside and see how things are progressing. Why don’t you stay here and relax for a while. You look tired.”
“I am. I think I’ve only slept a few hours in the past two days. I’ll be up to join you shortly.”
Leo watched Lev climb the outside stairs to the bridge while he sat back and mulled Lev’s newest revelations over in his head. He was just drifting off into a light sleep when a crewmember walked up and handed him one of the yacht’s satellite phones. “Excuse me, sir. It’s a call from Bishop Morelli.”
“Thank you.” Leo took the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Anthony … is everything ok?”
“Yes, we’re fine. We’re pulled off to the side of the road. Marcus is sending a helicopter for me and Francois. I just wanted to make sure you made it safely onboard.”
“Yes. We’re just getting ready to depart for Spain.”
“Wish I was there. I love that boat.”
Leo smiled. “You know, Anthony, the way your investments are paying off, you could probably afford a boat like this. You could name her something like Church Business.”
“So I could tell people I was off on church business without having to lie about the fact that I was really lying around on my boat somewhere.”
“Exactly.”
“You’re a very devious fellow, Cardinal.”
“I know.”
“I think a purchase like that that might be pushing my vow of poverty a little too far, although I don’t think that’s going to be a problem anytime soon. I took a pretty substantial hit in the stock market this year, along with everyone else. I’m still doing alright, but I’m afraid my contributions to the Church have dwindled lately. If I’m frugal, I might be able to afford one of the Carmela’s speedboats.”
“I’ve always thought that naming the yacht after his late wife was a nice way to remind people of her,” Leo said, looking down at a napkin with the name Carmela printed on it. “It’s a touching tribute to her. She was American, you know. Lev told me a little bit about her when I was in Israel last year, but I don’t think he’s mentioned her more than a couple of times since.”
“Probably too painful for him, Leo. She and Lev met back in the late 1960’s, when they were both students at the University of Jerusalem. Carmela was a devout Christian … that’s part of the reason she moved to Israel. Lev said she loved exploring the Holy Land and the places where Jesus walked. From what everyone has told me, Lev was crazy about her. I don’t think it was much of a surprise to his Jewish friends that he converted to Christianity after they were married. Ariella was their only child. She was only ten years old when her mother passed away, so Lev was left to raise her pretty much all by himself.”
“He must have been devastated when Carmela died.”
“He was. His father left him a manufacturing company worth a fortune, but Lev told me that he would gladly throw it all away if he could spend just one more day with her.”
“I know. Lev’s life has never been about money. I guess that’s why he left the running of the company to his managers while he pursued his academic interests.”
“Well, evidently they’ve done a good job,” Morelli said, “because the company is worth twice what it was when his father left it to him.”
The deck beneath Leo’s feet rumbled with the startup of the yacht’s engines. Holding the phone to his ear, he stood and walked to the railing and peered over the side. Gazing down into the crystal clear water, he saw the rippling image of the sandy white seafloor below.
“He modeled it after the kibbutz he was raised on,” Leo said.
“Modeled what? I think your phone cut out, Leo.”
“Sorry … I was thinking about the villa he built on the coast. He wanted everything on his property to look like the kibbutz he was raised on, including the vineyards, the houses, and the fields around them.”
“Oh, yes, of course. It’s beautiful there. But Israel’s still a dangerous piece of real estate. That’s why people banded together on collective farms in the first place.”
“Did he ever tell you about the other compounds like his around the world?”
“You mean those communes he’s always talking about?”
“Yes, he just told me about them.”
“I think he was afraid you would think he was some kind of whacko. Lev grew up on an Israeli kibbutz that was formed for protection against the Arabs. Coincidentally, his wife’s parents were nomadic hippie types, and she was raised on a farming commune in America. Lev told me one time that her parents had moved there so they could grow their own pot. They felt the government was forcing them to associate with drug dealers, which is true when you think about it, and they wanted to be free from that scene. Because of their unconventional upbringing, Lev and Carmela were very much alike, and they instinctively gravitated to each other. The fact that they gathered around them an intellectual and inquisitive group of college professors and graduate students from the university was totally in keeping with their upbringing.”
“I loved it when I was staying at the villa in Israel,” Leo said. “Everyone works together to grow their own food, raise livestock, make wine. No one pays any rent and they all take turns patrolling the property against the threat of terrorist attack … it’s a very communal atmosphere. That’s where all the members of the Bible Code Team live.”
“I know, Leo. I’ve been going there for the past five years … remember? Speaking of the Bible Code Team, have you seen any of them yet?”
“So far, only John and Ariella, but I hear they’re all here on the yacht except for Daniel. He
stayed behind in Israel.”
“Tell them hello for me when you see them. Have a safe journey, Leo.”
“You too, Anthony. Take care, old friend.”
Leo hit the off button and laid the phone on the table. The rattle of the anchor chain preceded another shudder beneath his feet as he heard the rising throb of the engines and caught a brief whiff of diesel fuel in the air. Soon, the yacht’s bow was slicing through the water, and the briny smell of seawater had replaced the smell of diesel. Reclining in his chair, he watched the village of Portofino grow smaller in the distance, and within minutes, the wine and motion of the boat had lulled him into a deep sleep.
When he awoke, the sun was setting directly in front of the boat. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, unsure for a moment where he was. Someone had covered him with a blanket. The yacht … of course. He must have been asleep for hours. Looking around, he could see that darkness was already beginning to settle over the wake of the boat. He stood and shook his head to clear his mind. They were headed west. That fits. We’re heading toward the coast of Spain.
Leaning against the roll of the boat, he entered the plush, main-deck salon and climbed the circular, mahogany-paneled stairway until he reached the bridge three floors above. Looking out through a wall of thick windows, he saw the bow of the ship below, rising and falling as it pushed through the oncoming waves. At the helm, Leo saw Alex Pappas, sitting in his captain’s chair studying the darkening ocean with unblinking eyes, his Greek features highlighted by the red night lights and the glow from the multicolored navigational screens lining the console before him.
“Where is everyone, Alex?”
“Hi, Cardinal. Last time I checked they were all gathered around the entertainment area behind the bridge. There was a lot of smoke … Alon is grilling something again.” The captain turned his attention away from looking out at the sea long enough to give Leo a sly wink. “I believe there’s also some wine involved, Cardinal.”
Leo reached out and shook the captain’s hand. “It’s good to see you, Alex. Thanks for getting the Carmela to Italy so quickly.”