The Lost City

by Carrie E. Gruhn

  “There are sheltered pools not too far away,” Paul told us after our bundles had been carried inside. We each took our own and put them in the corner or in a small room assigned to us by Paul. He evidently had planned ahead as we journeyed and had known where each of us was to go. Eagerly I tore open the rolls seeking clean clothing for all; then we took our turns bathing in the small rocky pools. As I washed the layers of dirt, sand, and dust out of my hair and off my body, then took little Toni in hand for cleansing, the terrors and weariness seemed to wash away also, leaving me fresh and joyous. From a pool far off I heard a voice begin singing and joyously I took up the song as did others, too.

  “It feels so good, Mommy,” Toni shouted.

  “It certainly does, my blessed baby.” I laughed and hugged him as I lifted him still protesting from the natural tub so that another might be served. There was no need to change the water. It trickled in from a tiny cleft high in the wall then dripped again to disappear in the high green shrubs that drank of it thirstily.

  Hand in hand Toni and I went back down to meet Paul who was waiting.

  “Paul, your face! You didn’t shave!”

  “No, I didn’t,” Paul answered, then he drew me close and we started down the path. “Remember how they poked fun at my disguise,” nodding toward the barely discernible opening through which we had come. “Well, if the dirt, the grime, and the beard hid me that well, it should come in handy when I go out again. I don’t think Damon has enough men to dig under the dirt of every Arabian forehead to see the mark. I can see why they look dirty so much of the time. We weren’t pretty when we got here and, if I remember rightly, I don’t think we were too clean even after the first day!”

  “No, we weren’t,” I agreed. “I am glad that you thought of the disguise, Paul. It will make me feel a little easier about you.”

  “That’s the girl,” he whispered.

  Fragrant odors assailed our nostrils as we came back inside the dwelling place. I could not call it a house nor could it be called a temple, but it was home! I sniffed the air and looked about. Steaming kettles were set carefully on the desk, but not from them alone came the fragrance. Rosy oleander boughs in abundance were sending up perfume as well.

  “Why whatever did they decorate for? It was thoughtful and kind of them to bring our first supper to us, but what a queer way to have flowers and so many of them!”

  “Those aren’t flowers my dear—those are beds!” Paul chuckled.

  “Our beds? Oh no, not those beautiful blossoms!”

  “You can leave your flowers to look at if you want to, but I sure intend to sleep on mine!”

  And he meant it! The others soon came in, looking shiny after their scrubbing and we squatted about on the floor and ate picnic fashion of the delicious food and fresh vegetables. After pots and the dishes had been washed and removed by the women who had brought them, Paul showed us how to take the fragrant boughs and weave them into springy beds. We were to keep the big central room since Paul’s desk was already there. No doubt he would be busy with many things while he remained with us. Clean sheets were drawn tightly over the boughs; then on them went blankets and our beds were made.

  The sun was beginning to drop out of sight by that time, but Paul carried my mother up to our little pool. Carefully I drew off her bedraggled clothing and bathed her as I might have bathed a baby. There were comfortable, clean nightclothes for her and then Paul came and carried her back to a sweet, clean bed. All the time I watched for signs of life or interest in her eyes, but if they saw or wondered they gave no hint. It seemed incredible that we had brought her all that tortuous way, and that all its discomforts, its hardships had not aroused or quickened the spark of life which still bound her to earth. How feeble must that spark be! She always ate when I fed her, but with the obedience of an automaton and after each such meal I wanted to run away and cry. My tears slipped down onto the clean sheets as I tucked her in, but then they were for thankfulness that she was still with us. I began to sing softly the same song we had sung toward the hills out in our rocky pools, then pressed my lips gently on her soft forehead and left her to sleep.

  Whether by contrast with the hardships we had been enduring I do not know, but never had beds been so wonderful as those oleander boughs, and never had sleep been so relaxing and satisfying. The sun lay softly along the valley floor when we awakened one by one and began to stir. Paul helped me get the small petrol stove to heat our breakfast, but cautioned against using it more than necessary. There was plenty of wood for fires and we might need the petrol if we were forced to hole inside sometime. Even that small warning could not take the beauty off the day nor the peace from our hearts.

  “Come with me, Tanya. The older children will watch Toni for you. There is much that I want to show you. First, as you have guessed, those boxes and cases contain foods and medical supplies and sundry other necessities. I think you will find enough stored here to last quite a long time, but you should try as much as possible to live on what can be raised. Some gardens already have been started. There should be time to raise quite a bit before the cooler season; besides being so well protected by the high walls things really never completely stop growing down in the valley. I think that many of these boxes could be emptied and the boxes used to make furniture. Don’t you think so?”

  “Of course, Paul, and it will give us something to do. At least we should have a box or two for storing our bedding and clothes that are not being used. Don’t worry, when you come back you won’t know us we will be so civilized! We will be comfortable, even if we have to sleep on your heavenly oleander beds and sit on the floor all the time!”

  I felt a little shy going from dwelling place to dwelling place meeting the many who had made their way here before us. Since we would be together here a long time I certainly should become acquainted with everyone. Then, too, Paul wanted to check up on them a little. I felt a vague uneasiness when I realized that he was on the alert for spies.

  “You don’t really think spies would come here this soon, do you?” I asked anxiously.

  “It isn’t likely, but since that is always a possibility it never hurts to be watchful. One thing that will make it hard is that we are opening the gate to everyone who is refusing the mark whether they have accepted Christ as the Messiah and Saviour or not. That means that some may yet decide to go back. If they do they will most certainly give away our secret. Any and all who resist Damon might be reached for Christ. We’ve got to let them in. Besides, this thing was started a long time ago before—before I really believed myself. Now that I have found the Messiah, my Lord, I cannot withhold Him from anyone! It’s a temptation to stay here and not go out but at least here they are safe, and, perhaps, the books will help them find the way.”

  “What books?” I asked.

  “Come with me.” He led to one of the recesses far back in our carved-out home. There in the dimness, laced over with dust and cobwebs were several boxes. One had been pried open, and stooping Paul lifted a slat to reveal leatherbound books. He reached in and brought up one to place it in my hand.

  “Why—it’s—it’s a Bible but it is written in Hebrew instead of English like Dal’s. I could read it!”

  “That is why I brought you here so I could give it to you, and that is why the books were put here in the first place. Years and years ago another preacher like Dal hid these boxes here that we might find them. Well, I found them on our first trip when I was looking for suitable quarters and so I took over this place instead of a smaller, more cozy, private place. I am glad that I did. I know that as you read you will have much to tell the others and they will want to know more, too. Be careful of them for they are too precious for squandering, but as long as they last, and there are those who really want them, give them away.”

  “How wonderful, how marvelous are God’s ways!” I spoke softly, reverently as I carried the Book with me to our room.

  “How wonderful and how marvelous we have only guessed, Tany
a. They are more than that,—they are right because they are perfect and will accomplish their purpose in spite of Damon, yes, in spite of all the released demons! It makes me ashamed and very humble to think that I ever doubted God before!”

  The night men and women came quietly to talk with Paul and with Simon about the events taking place outside. As Paul had said we had been completely out of touch with the world since our flight had begun. He was eager to hear the latest news. Toni was tucked in and already I had tugged and pulled some of the boxes out to form a sort of partition around our bedcorner. Paul laughed indulgently, but had admitted that it was a good idea since there was certainly no privacy in the big room as it was when we first came.

  “The whole world is in an uproar, Doctor. People are rebelling against the mark. Some simply on general principles and not just because it is the Beast’s mark. They simply don’t like the idea of being regimented and told what to do. Several small wars have broken out, and it looks as though others are brewing.”

  “I expected that. I think Damon will have his hands full putting his stamp on the world. Still, when hunger and want begin to stalk the streets, the most subborn is likely to give in.”

  “He seems to have thought of that, too, and isn’t wasting any time. Let Runyon tell about that!”

  The man Runyon was a hesitant talker and did not especially care for the limelight, but when urged on by the others, he began to tell of some things which he had seen.

  “Well, for a few days after that man showed us the Beast and said we’d have to bow down to it I didn’t think so much about it, but after I got home and started thinking it made me mad! I sent my wife and children out to different stores—I went, too, of course—to buy as much as we could. Do you know some of the stores were already closed! Others that tried to keep open to sell to anyone with money to buy were destroyed before our very eyes! We got a few things, but when we started adding up our supplies we could see that we’d have to take on that mark or starve to death. My wife got hold of a report about some hideout. Seemed as though another family wanted to escape but hadn’t any way of coming. Well, we had a car, so we got together in a hurry, made a bargain with these people and they showed us the way. We furnished the car, pooled our supplies and we are here.”

  We were all very silent after that. We could not doubt his word for, as Paul had said, Damon had proved himself leagued with demoniac powers and surely would not hesitate to destroy and wreck in order to whip the world into submission. It made us wonder if, indeed, there would be time to reach the rebels. There was little doubt that Runyon had come in unbelief, but Paul would not let him remain in blindness long.

  “Men, you all have other stories to tell, I know, and I want to hear them, but first, I have a story to tell you. You know some of us started getting this place ready a long time ago. At first we didn’t know what the emergency would be, but it seemed certain we would meet that emergency and would need a place to go in a world where there seemed to be no more place for us. A very close friend got out books and pointed out this place to me. In the old days, if you recall, there were several cities of refuge where our people could hide and be sure of protection. Way out here lay this deserted city, complete from housing facilities, ramparts and trenchments to storehouses and natural fortifications! It seemed to answer every requirement. Whether it was the right city or not my friend stressed need for a refuge so much that it got to be an obsession with me. That was the day of the Covenant, C-day. I had come here and well, maybe it was the beauty and the grandeur of it—waybe it was a dream—maybe it was borrowing trouble—whatever it was I started work on it. For several years now others who caught the idea and thought it good helped store things here and map out ways to get others in when, and if, necessary. Remember the disappearance of thousands of people who have never been traced to this day? This same friend of mine was one of those who disappeared while talking to me about some of the things that had begun to happen then!”

  “You mean he was behind the Prince and on the inside track?”

  “No—perhaps you forget that I, too, was behind the Prince and on the inside track, as you put it. The organization never intended that he should take on the powers that he did. No, my friend was not behind the Prince. He knew that I was in some secret organization, working on some plan to secure our land but that was all. He was on the inside track—he was on God’s track and God had mapped out a lot of things Dal was trying to show me. But I was blind, stupid, or just plain stubborn! I wouldn’t listen until things began to happen. He told me that there would be a vanishing of many people, Christians who believed in the Christ crucified centuries ago. He it was who was going to call them out of the world suddenly and without warning. Well, I refused to accept those statements, besides Dal claimed that this Christ was really our Messiah whom we had rejected. He claimed that that Christ, our Messiah, had come to give Himself a blood offering for our sins so that we might be clean and come into God’s presence. I didn’t like that either. It didn’t sound right having God send a Messiah to us and then have Him killed. But—in time, strangely enough, I came to know it was true!”

  “Hold on a minute, Paul. We are agreed that you had a great idea when you got this place and opened it for us, but you’re going too far into that myth!”

  “Was it a myth when all those people vanished? Was it a myth when a man suddenly rose out of a world so full of dissension there wasn’t any solution for it; yet that man reached in and straightened the whole world out? Was it a myth when that one brought peace, prosperity, and plenty to a world that had been starving? Was it a myth when that same one suddenly took the power and the trust we had put in him to shape it into a whip to force us under his thumb rule? Was it a myth when he called us to re-build the temple and then desecrated it? Was it a myth when he raised the Beast and demanded that we worship him and take his mark or die?” Paul had risen to stand with flashing eyes and heightened color; his voice hammered out the questions with an insistence that brooked no inattention. Startled, the men heard him finish, then reluctantly they began to mull over the questions.

  “All right, Paul. We give you that much. Those things were not myths and still aren’t! But where’s the connection?”

  Paul quieted himself with effort. He had their attention now. He must make every word count! Slowly he began again. “My friend was a Christian, a follower of the Christ he claimed was our Messiah. He claimed that that same Christ had foretold that we would be cast-off for a time while many were called to be Christ’s followers. But we were not to be cast-off without reason! And we gave that reason.

  “We have always, with the exception of the time when we turned our backs completely on God, been looking for a Messiah, a mighty one who would champion our cause and make a great nation of us and bring us glory and power. God gave us that promise and it still holds true. But when Christ came, the world needed a Saviour. It lay in sin and darkness. God had given us promises all along of a blood-offering for the propitiation for sin. We had the first blood-shedding when God clothed Adam and Eve—the acceptable offering of Abel—the burnt sacrifice when God substituted a ram for Isaac—the passover lamb—the brazen altar and the blood-sprinkled mercy seat. Without the shedding of blood there could be no remission for sin. God alone could provide a substitute for us. God sent His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on Him should not perish but have everlasting life. That Son was none other than Jesus of Nazareth, born of a virgin, in the city of David, under signs read by wise men and by King Herod who feared Him so that he caused all babies to be slain in Bethlehem, in the vain hope that Jesus also might be slain. Wait, before you speak, remember that there is a connection between that ‘myth’ and the things that have been happening in such rapid succession of late. This same Jesus, born in a lowly manger, reared in the humble home of a carpenter, walked quietly among His people and, because He walked quietly, yet leaving a trail of miracles in His wake, we refused Him.

  “He went into th
e synagogues unfolding His message, yet we closed our ears demanding that if He be the Holy One of God that He leave off the role of humility and mount a throne exalting us with Him. We broke His heart and called out Barabbas, the thief; Jesus was given into the hands of the crucifiers. Wait—let me finish. The magistrate or the governor had the dispensing of judgment but he gave it over into our hands when he found no guilt in Jesus who had been brought before him. The anger and frustration, the pride within us would have it no other way—‘Give us Barabbas—Crucify this Jesus,’ we shouted and, as if that were not enough, we shouldered the blame and the guilt onto our children! Though other hands held the nails, yet it was our wills that drove them, hanging our Messiah to a Roman cross between two thieves. Then came darkness and earthquake, and fear came into men’s hearts briefly, as He gave His blood, a final sacrifice for the sins of all mankind. He was very God, indeed, for though He died and was buried and Roman soldiers guarded His grave, yet He arose after three days and lived, walked, ate, and talked with many before He went back to His Father. Nevertheless, as He went, angels gave reminder of the promised earthly kingdom not yet fulfilled to us. Even in the hours of our deepest rejection He turned us not away! The angel told that the same Jesus, who ascended from the Mount of Olives before sorrowful watchers, would return to the same mount and, when He returned, He would come as King as we in our impatience had demanded. Not yet has He returned to claim His kingdom, but He is to come! He called out the unnatural branch, His Church of many members who heeded and accepted His sacrifice, and watched for His coming.