by Len du Randt
‘Morning sunshine,’ she sang cheerfully as she drew his curtains. The sun stung his eyes even through the fluffy pillow, and he realized that this was going to be a battle that he just wasn’t going to win. He cursed himself for ever allowing René to convince him to join Andrew and her for church, ‘just this once.’
He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going anymore when a soft knock on the front door interrupted his train of thought.
‘Oh,’ she sang sickeningly cheerful. ‘That’s Andrew. I’ll get it.’
She skipped down the hallway, humming to herself.
Trevor was in Hell.
- - -* * *- - -
It took Trevor forty-five minutes to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and brush his teeth. Even though Andrew and René were cheerfully chatting away, he didn’t really feel like talking any more than was absolutely necessary. He tried to remember how he managed to get himself conned into going with them. Norman—his own flesh and blood—have tried many times before with absolutely no success. He wasn’t sure why he caved. Maybe it was to hear them grasp at excuses for being wrong about their ‘no alien life’ doctrine; maybe it was to make some sort of peace with Norman before going on with his life. Perhaps it was a little something of everything.
‘Did you hear about Yoshe?’ Andrew asked on the way to Church.
‘Nope,’ Trevor replied in thought. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Not at all. They promoted him to ‘President’ of the European Empire yesterday. It was quite a ceremony, and the entire world’s top notch people were present. GMN covered the whole thing.’
‘I didn’t have time to watch the telly yesterday; been swamped with work.’
‘The ceremony must have cost them millions. It was quite impressive.’
‘Speaking of millions,’ Trevor said as he leaned forward and wedged himself between the two front seats. ‘Are we still on for groceries after the church thing?’
‘We don’t have much of a choice,’ René said. ‘We’re low on stock.’
Low on stock, Trevor thought. If someone told him three weeks ago that he would be sharing an apartment with a woman—René of all people to be more specific—he would have laughed it off. Everything changed so fast. One moment he was enjoying his privacy and detachment from the people around him, and in the next instant he was living with a female, sharing his bathroom and kitchen with her. He was relieved that he didn’t have to share his bed too. The one good thing that came from the whole mess was that he now had someone who helped out with the chores. She washed the dishes, and he dried them. He also took out the garbage, and in return she made the coffee. There was an unwritten—yet mutual—agreement between the two of them, and Trevor felt a strange comfort in her companionship.
‘We’re here,’ Andrew said as he pulled into the church parking lot. The lot was filled past its limit already, and there was still a long queue of cars behind them. Everyone wanted answers, and they wanted the churches to give it to them. An usher motioned to a spot where Andrew could park his car, and Trevor stretched his limbs when he got out. It was a cramped ride.
‘Lot of people here today, eh!’ Andrew said. ‘I can’t honestly say that I have ever seen this church quite as packed as it is now.’
Trevor didn’t reply. He didn’t want to use profanity on church grounds. He didn’t have to believe in what other people believed to respect their views. It struck him as quite odd how Christians proclaimed an ‘all-present’ God, yet only confined Him to church grounds and graveyards. ‘Don’t curse!’ a mother would say to her son. ‘You’re on Holy Ground now.’ Did that mean that one was safe to curse outside church grounds? Trevor could only shake his head at the whole business.
‘I’ve never felt welcome at these places,’ René said uncomfortably, looking at the huge building while trying to battle the claustrophobia of everyone swarming around her.
‘You and me both,’ Trevor said and instantly wished that he had rather stayed at home. There were hundreds of people, thousands maybe, all looking equally uncomfortable.
‘Let’s go in,’ René said, and as they progressed toward the main entrance of the building, their path was suddenly blocked off by a man mountain.
‘Hi there,’ the huge man said with an obvious fake smile. ‘Welcome to the New Gospel Church.’
The three murmured their greetings.
‘Would you be so kind as to submit your offerings here? We don’t take it inside anymore.’
‘Why not?’ Andrew asked.
The man directed their attention to a little card-swipe machine on a table near them. ‘It’s not portable yet, so we have to keep it here. It accepts the recently issued smart cards and all major credit cards.’
‘And what if I don’t have my card here?’ Trevor snubbed. He made up his mind beforehand that there would be no way that he was going to ‘offer’ anything to the church.
‘Well,’ the man sighed, ‘do you have the Shield, then?’
‘The Shield? What’s that?’
‘Never mind,’ the friendly giant frowned. ‘You do know that it’s illegal not to have your card with you, right?’
Trevor shrugged. ‘I forgot it at home.’
‘You might come off this time, sir,’ man mountain said, ‘but soon they will become quite strict about you having your card with you at all times.’
‘And what if I don’t want to ‘offer’ anything?’
The man frowned. He was in no mood for people like Trevor. ‘Then you cannot come in and share in the joy of the Lord.’
‘Works for me,’ Trevor said and turned to leave, but Andrew grabbed him by the arm and gently tugged him back. ‘Come on, Trev. You promised.’
Trevor sighed. He really didn’t want to share in the “joy” of anything, let alone the Lord, but Andrew was right. He had given his word, and he was going to keep it, if only for Norman’s sake. Just this once. He swiped his card through the slot and entered his pin. It felt as if all eyes were upon him, and he had to lean over forward to keep anyone from seeing the insultingly low amount that he entered.
‘Thank you, sir,’ the usher said in his most friendly voice.
‘Whatever,’ Trevor said as he shoved past the man. Idiot.
The sheer size of the inside of the building overwhelmed both Trevor and René. Trevor’s vague childhood memories of church services were dull and boring little shack sized buildings with hard, wooden pews and a few old ladies competing to see whose voices could shatter the windows first. But this was different. It felt as if they had entered a cinema complex, and even the chairs were personal, comfortable, and soft. Warm carpeting had replaced cold tiles, and at the front, band members fine-tuned their equipment on an elevated stage.
‘Look at all these people,’ René whispered as she nudged Trevor. He took her hand in his to try and make her feel as comfortable as possible, but deep inside he felt that it was more for him than for her.
‘Should I go out and get us some popcorn?’ Trevor asked, and René giggled.
‘Get me a soda,’ Andrew joined in, and the three of them laughed softly.
A light on the stage went on, illuminating the band, and a hush fell over the congregation. No one really knew what to do or what to expect, and soon the buzzing atmosphere died down to an uncomfortable silence.
‘Good evening, brothers and sisters,’ a pastor spoke into a microphone. ‘I welcome you here this morning in the name of the Lord!’
Some random Amens came from the congregation.
‘Now I know that many of you here today are worried; some of you are still hurting; and all of you are seeking answers.’
Some more Amens followed.
‘Well, I tell you now,’ the Pastor said and raised his voice slightly, ‘that the time for worry, the time for sadness; and the time for confusion is over!’
Amen!
‘But first, please allow me to explain to you this morning’s proceedings.’
Trevor relaxed a little and
sat back more comfortably in his chair.
‘Since we are a mixture of many religions today, we have slightly modified our praise and worship songs to accommodate all. No matter what religion you embrace, your Sovereign Being is still your Lord; so that is what we will call him...or her today: Lord.’
What if I don’t believe in a Sovereign Being? Trevor thought.
‘And if you do not worship a Sovereign Being,’ the Pastor said and locked his eyes with Trevor’s, ‘just sit back, relax, and soak in the experience.’
What on Earth...? Trevor thought and sat up straight in his chair. How did he do that?
The band started playing an upbeat tune, and the words for the song appeared on an overhead Electronic Display so that everyone could sing along. The song consisted of four short sentences, and the band repeated the song over and over until everyone felt familiar with it. Some clapped, and others stood there—swaying from side to side—with their hands in the air. Still others, like Trevor, just sat there, not participating, but rather observing.
The Lord is with us,
He has always been.
The Lord is good to us,
His love is always seen.
Four more of these songs followed, after which everyone was seated. Andrew noticed that they have sung five songs, and not once did they mention Jesus. It was almost as if they prepared the songs to cater for all the various religions; almost as if they somehow anticipated that more than just Christians were going to pitch up.
The Pastor took the stage again. ‘Brothers and sisters,’ he said softly, ‘let me assure you that Christianity has never denied the possibility of alien life. Christianity merely claimed that life outside our planet was a big improbability, since there was no mention of it in the Bible.’
Trevor smiled and nodded. He found it strange how the Christians could justify just about anything in their ‘Book.’
‘As we all know now,’ the pastor continued, ‘there are indeed alien life forms out there; and we can thus conclude that if the Bible was vague or inaccurate about that, that it could also be inaccurate about many other things.’
The pastor had learnt his sermon word-for-word as provided at the religious gathering in Dubai. He had spent a considerable amount of time with his mentor, and had learned more in a week than he had in fifteen years of active ministry. He went on to explain how Christians ‘misunderstood’ the ‘actual’ message of the person known as Jesus.
‘The actual message of Jesus,’ the pastor said, ‘was to unite and form one body. But instead of uniting, Christianity became divided, causing the whole plan to fall apart.’
The pastor had everyone’s undivided attention.
‘The collapse in the plan crumbled the idea behind the Godhead, which was to unite everyone under one Godhead, even as Gods. We are all thus Godly, but to get to that state, and restore the rift in the Godhead, we need a Messiah; an Anointed One that will bridge the gap and lead us to the unity that we were intended to share since the beginning of time.’
Trevor was amazed at how much sense the pastor was making.
‘Where Jesus failed in his mission,’ the pastor said, ‘this Anointed One will succeed. He is already amongst us, guiding us with patience and love. Soon, Arch Bishop Antonio Pascale will publicly announce who it is. Be sure to watch him as much as possible on the new 24-hour Spiritual channel for more lessons on the Godhead and how we can achieve it together.’
The sermon ended with the singing of three of the songs that they learned at the beginning, and as Trevor, Andrew and René tried to leave the building, they found themselves walking against a stream of people that were all rushing to speak to the pastor.
‘That was different,’ Andrew said as they left the main foyer of the church building.
Trevor’s mind was racing. He didn’t know what ‘different’ meant, but he sure wasn’t prepared for what he just experienced. ‘I’ll meet you guys at the car,’ he said and turned back. ‘I forgot something.’ He rushed back to the main entrance where the electronic machines were and swiped his card through it again. This time, he entered a considerably larger amount.
- - -* * *- - -
The drive to the supermarket was a quiet one. Andrew wondered how he had misunderstood the basic message of Christianity all the years growing up as a devout follower. Trevor wondered how his own thoughts had so easily been infiltrated and swayed; while René still basked in the afterglow of ‘being touched by Gaia.’
Trevor could recall the countless hours that he and Norman debated about the Bible and Christianity as a whole. Sometimes he had the upper hand, and sometimes Norman would send him home thinking; but not once had he ever felt like converting. Until now, that is.
His mind raced, and he would have given his right arm to hear what Norman would say about the whole affair. He knew that the feeling would blow over soon—it always did when he felt this way—but he also felt vulnerable for as long as the doubt lingered.
They finally arrived at the superstore, and the three of them split up to pick up their own individual groceries. Occasionally, when passing each other in the isles, they would greet one another as strangers would—with a nod and a smile—before moving past each other without saying a word. They would then laugh as they sprinted toward the next article on the shelves that they wanted. Eventually, the sprinting resulted in racing, each trying to finish before the others. Andrew won, followed shortly by René, and then Trevor.
‘What’s that?’ René asked, pointing to what at first appeared to be a fancy metal detector.
‘That’s a Shield line,’ the cashier said as she scanned René’s articles.
‘A Shield line?’ Trevor asked from behind René. ‘What’s that?’
The cashier stopped scanning and gawked at Trevor with an, are you stupid or just stone aged expression on her face. ‘The Shield line is our fastest queue in the supermarket,’ the cashier said. ‘It works with the new Shield of Victor technology.’
‘The Shield of Victor?’
The cashier sighed. ‘Don’t you guys ever watch T.V?’
‘Some,’ Trevor said, unsure of how to answer the question. He had heard the term before on GMN, but wasn’t sure what it was exactly.
‘It’s been on the television all week now,’ she said.
‘That explains it,’ René said. ‘We’ve been working night shift this entire week.’
‘Well, watch the documentary at eight tonight. It should teach you more about the Shield and what it could do for you.’
The three left with their groceries and a chill ran down Trevor’s spine as he stole another glance at the Shield line.
- - -* * *- - -
Mary liked their new friends. Kassim and Nasreen had become like family to them and their two daughters were a blessing to Mary, who treated the young ones as her own. Things were beginning to settle in the Freedman household, and even though it would be different from now on, she still embraced their new future.
Kassim had assured them that they would only stay until construction on the new city had begun, but neither Malcolm nor Mary wanted them to go.
Ameena—Kassim’s youngest daughter—entered the kitchen, carrying dinner dishes that she had collected throughout the house.
‘Thank you, sweetie,’ Mary said as she took the dishes from the 16-year-old. It was hard to believe that she and her sister, though so young, were once involved in drug and gang related activities. The alien attacks left them paralysed with fear, and they quickly repented and asked their God for forgiveness. It was a good thing, Mary thought, that they weren’t victims in the attacks. She silently thanked Adonai that He gave them another chance to turn their lives around.
‘Let’s get this in—’
Mary dropped the dishes, and they crashed onto the floor, splintering into hundreds of sharp objects, each shattering in its own direction.
Nasreen jumped back with a shriek, holding her hand to her mouth, and Malcolm came running into the kitchen.
‘What happened?’ he asked, and then he froze.
Mary didn’t say anything. She just pointed to the basin.
Malcolm slowly stepped forward, making sure that he didn’t step on any of the broken shards. A thick red liquid was pouring from the taps. It looked like red milk, thickening occasionally, causing the liquid to glob and spatter. Malcolm reached out and touched the liquid. He rubbed it gently between his thumb and forefinger. It felt oily. The tiny hairs at the back of his neck rose when he realized what it was. It was blood, and there was a lot of it.
- - -* * *- - -
‘What the Hell is going on?’ Malcolm yelled into his cell phone as he twisted the heads of the bathtub taps. The red liquid spurted out of the openings, confirming Malcolm’s suspicions. He ran to the toilet and lifted the lid. The water that used to be in there was now a thick brew of blood. He found the same liquid in a vase that used to contain water. Everything that was water—or should be—had changed to blood, even the water in the fridge and the ice cubes in the freezer.
‘So this is happening at your place too?’ he stopped and listened intently to the speaker on the other end of the line. ‘It’s those two...parasites! I tell you!’
He closed the door to ensure that no one heard the rest of the conversation.
‘Yes, they should be taken care of once and for all.’
Malcolm’s facial expression grew grim. ‘Benny the Fist?’ he confirmed. ‘Personally? Does he know what happened to the people that tried to harm them before?’
The person on the other end confirmed.
‘All right, do whatever it takes; just take care of it, now!’