The Road to Damascus

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The Road to Damascus Page 5

by Richard D. Ramsey


  I led her to a cargo bay so we could talk in private. She knew what I wanted, but she wouldn’t look me in the eyes. “You know that man.” It was more of a statement than a question, but I found myself growing anxious when she wouldn’t answer.

  “Tell me how you know that man.”

  She shook her head.

  “Tamra, I just saved your life. You and all of your friends. Now, I know that you recognized that man and that you don’t like him. I can help you stay safe, but you have to talk to me.”

  She looked up at me and her eyes were moist with tears that hadn’t quite spilled out over her eyelids. “I am not a pleasure girl by choice.”

  I don’t know why that surprised me, but it did.

  “Me and all the rest. We were taken from our homes in the middle of the night. Men would come, strong men. My father and the people of the village, they would try to fight; but they were outnumbered. The last time I saw my mother, she was fighting the strangers that came into our home. I don’t know what happened to her. They took me away, me and all the rest.” Her story brought back memories of my own that I had to keep hidden for now.

  She took a moment. I gave her all the time she needed, I was in this for the long haul whether I liked it or not. “We were taken to large houses in the cities where we were made to be pleasure girls. He was there, that man.”

  I was in shock. “He was there? He was at a pleasure house on Mo’ak?”

  “No, I mean yes, I mean, he did not use the girls. But, he was there and the house masters, they followed him wherever he went. I saw him go there twice and the house masters always followed him as he came and went. Always. That’s all I know, I swear it.”

  A thought crossed my mind. “How did you come to be on this ship?”

  “The captain, he bought us.”

  “Bought you? He doesn’t seem like the type.”

  “No, he never asked for the pleasure. He only bought us.”

  “Where is he taking you?”

  Her eyes grew blank. “I don’t know. He only bought us.”

  I could tell by the look in her eyes she was telling the truth. A single tear spilled out over her lower eyelid and ran down her cheek. “On Mo’ak, do your people worship a creator?”

  “We have many spirits that some believe in. Hundreds.”

  “I’m going to teach you a prayer that I learned a long time ago. The god of my people can be yours too, if you’ll let him.”

  She nodded her head. “I have seen what your God can do.”

  We knelt down together. I looked at her and said, “Say what I say.”

  “Grant me, Oh Lord, Thy protection. And in protection, strength. And in strength, understanding. And in understanding, knowledge. And in knowledge, the knowledge of justice. And in the knowledge of justice, the love of it. And in the love of it, the love of all existences. And in that love, the love of spirit and all creation. Amen.”

  I took her back to her sisters and retired to my quarters. I reached under my mattress and felt the Bible hiding there. I dare not take it out, not there. There was too much to lose. But, I took great comfort in just knowing it was there. Nothing else to do now but give my trouble to the Lord and wait.

  I don’t know how long it was, but David was the one to come knocking at my door. “Captain wants everyone up top.” I didn’t know what was going on, so I followed him.

  In the galley, the rest of the crew minus the girls were speaking with Bishop Barabbas. There was no avoiding it now. He saw me, adopted an unreadable look on his face and walked slowly towards me.

  “Jacob, my brother, I haven’t seen you in so long!” He wrapped his arms around me and I reluctantly returned the semi-affection.

  “It’s been many years.” What to do? All I could think of was to let God handle this one. Barabbas let go of me and stared into my eyes.

  “Where did…how…I don’t understand. You’re on a cargo ship?”

  I stepped back. “It’s a long story.”

  Captain Stark stepped in-between us. “Wait, you know each other?”

  The bishop was sporting a large grin now. “Know each other? We were roommates in seminary!”

  There was a silence.

  “You know. No matter what the True Church says, God forgives and he has forgiven you.”

  It was Jenna’s turn to speak up. “Seminary? You’re a priest?”

  Barabbas cast a long glance at her then back at me. “I see. They don’t know.”

  I could tell this conversation was making Stark very uncomfortable. “Is this something I need to know? We have very pressing matters at hand and I’d like to get on with it so we can get out of here and back to business.”

  All eyes were on me. I sat down and told them my story, some of it anyway.

  “I wasn’t always just a drifter. I attended the Seminary of the True Church and after many years of study and piety, I became a priest. It was something God had called me to do. To study his word, to understand it, to bring it where it needed to be.”

  “And he did!” I was surprised when Barabbas interjected. “Immediately after school he set out to a little system called Santos. A hard place that is.”

  “Yes, it was a hard place. A group of corporations and mining guilds were trying to teraform the planet and I was sent there with a mission to help with the colonists. I was there about six months before I was recalled. You see, when I entered seminary, I lied about who I was.

  “There were all sorts of questions, all sorts of inquiries. They want to know where you were born, where you went to school. I even think they asked what my first word was. I told them everything I could. Everything except that I was a murderer. You see, I stabbed my father in the back with a twelve inch knife. Right through his beating heart and out the other side. I spent twenty years in prison, a third of my life. I knew they would never let me become a priest having been patricidal, so I lied.

  “You’re all wondering what drives a man to kill his own father. I can see it in your eyes. It was my dear sweet mother, bless her heart. My father was a hard man. He drank like a fish, fought like a wild dog and I shudder to think what else. My childhood was filled with regular beatings. Black eyes, broken fingers. For a long time I thought that was how everybody lived, I never knew any better. As I grew older, I grew tough and mean like he did. I guess we never get too far from our roots. I learned how to drink and cuss and fight from my old man. He taught me bitterness, because that was all he ever knew and I presume that’s all his father had ever taught him.

  “Well, it came to pass one day when I was about fifteen that he was in one of his usual drunken stupors and was going to take it out on me. It was nothing new. I tried to fight back like I usually did, but I was a squirrely little teenager and I couldn’t put up much of a fight. My mother butted in as she did from time to time and he took his anger out on her, also. She was always trying to shield me. A mother’s instinct to protect her child is a strong one, if not always realistic. He grabbed her shirt with one hand and with the other he hit her in the face again and again. I can still remember every single blow like it was yesterday. A trickle of blood had run from her nose and smeared across her face as he hammered her.

  “The tipping point was her eyes. They went dead. I had never seen a dead person before, but I knew right then that she was either dead or going to die if I didn’t do something. I ran into the kitchen, grabbed the longest knife I could find and did what I had to do to save my mother.

  “My father, knife blade protruding from his chest, turned and stared at me in amazement. His mouth was opening and closing, but no words were coming out. Just a wheeze and a cough with a spray of bright red blood. That was the moment, that was the moment that changed my life. I don’t know if you call it revelation or epiphany or what; but in his face I saw myself. I saw myself becoming that man, becoming that evil. In those last few moments, I think he saw himself in me. I think he looked at my face, red with the droplets of his life’s blood, and knew that he
had authored his own fate. We both looked into a mirror and that mirror gave us both a glimpse into Hell. It was too late for him. He died with a look of horror on his face that I never care to see on another human being.

  “I didn’t fight the authorities when they came; I knew I had done wrong. I went to prison and found religion! Well, everybody finds God in prison, but I really felt his presence in me. Over time I came to understand Him and to love Him. Eventually, I knew that he wanted me to spread His word. I felt the need, if for nothing more than my own redemption. I mean, God grants all of us forgiveness if we ask him for it. I’ve asked the Lord’s forgiveness and have been hopefully granted with it, but I’m just a man with this burden on my heart. So, in order to seek God’s favor, I lied to enter His service.

  “After about six months with the mission at Santos, I was recalled. God forgives, but I guess the True Church does not. They somehow found out about my past and reclaimed my license to minister. I received a summons to return to Holy City to stand trial.”

  “But he never went!” Barabbas interjected once more. “He disappeared with a bunch of refugees and was never seen again. Not until now! Do you still have that…?”

  A beeping sounded from the bishop’s waistband. He pulled a communicator free and put it to his ear. The room was dead silent as Barabbas listened to his message. He closed his device, pocketed it and made an announcement to the room. “The Transit Authority is here and they want to speak to you. To all of you.”

  5

  There was once a man who was in a flood. Rains poured down for weeks on end and a nearby river began to overflow its banks. The brown water crept closer and closer to his house until it began to leak inside. The man got down on his knees and prayed to the lord, but the water kept coming. When he could no longer kneel inside his home, he climbed onto his roof and continued praying. Before long a boat full of rescue workers came by. They offered to drive him to safety, but the man refused. He said, “No, I’m waiting on the lord to save me.” The boat left and the man continued praying. Rain continued to fall from the sky and the water completely covered his house.

  The rushing current threatened to sweep him away as he knelt upon his roof, but he continued to pray. Another boat, seeing him in trouble came to help. The men begged him to climb in so they could rescue him and again he refused. He said “I’m waiting on the lord to save me.” The water continued to rise and before long, only his head was above the surface.

  A helicopter, seeing the man in distress, came close and a rope ladder was lowered. A man in a helmet climbed down and lowered his arm. He said “Take my hand and I’ll pull you up!”

  “No,” the man said a third time. “I’m waiting on the lord to save me.” With that, the helicopter left. The water continued to rise and the man drowned.

  When he died, he found himself in Heaven, bowing before God and a host of angels. He said, “My God, I prayed and I prayed and I asked for you to rescue me. I don’t question your judgment, Lord, but I need to know, why did you not save me?”

  God said, “I sent you two boats and a helicopter.”

  ***

  That story was swirling through my mind as I sat at the table with Bishop Barabbas and the rest of the crew of the Damascus.

  Captain Stark was very unsettled. “The Transit Authority is here? What? Why did you let them in?”

  Jenna stood up from the galley table and began to pace. She crossed her arms, uncrossed them and then crossed them again with her hands on her shoulders. Her fur began to take on a pale hue. “I don’t like this. I don’t like this one bit.”

  Barabbas leaned back and rubbed his top lip. His composure was iron. “Sanctuary is neutral, not exclusive. They can come and go as they want, but I assure you they have no jurisdiction here.”

  “So, what now? You’re just going to let them arrest us?” The Captain was furious.

  The Bishop leaned forward with his elbows on the table, meeting the captain eye to eye. “I’m not giving you to them, but I am obliged to facilitate a meeting if you’re willing.”

  James was the next one to speak. “And what if they try to arrest us?”

  “They can’t.” The Bishop almost seemed like he was beginning to get perturbed. “They’re not even allowed weapons. Our own elite Temple Guard manages security.” He turned back to the captain. “Jedediah, I highly suggest you meet with them so we can put this behind us.”

  “You meet with them.”

  “What?”

  “You meet with them. You got us into this mess, so it’s up to you to get us out.”

  Barabbas wrinkled his brow. “I didn’t kill a transit authority worker.”

  Captain Stark raised one hand and put his finger in the bishop’s face. “You bought the girls; you paid me to bring them to a safe place. You told me it would be alright. They boarded my ship because somebody told them I was running prostitutes. If it wasn’t for your involvement, none of this would have ever happened. You got us into this mess, you get us out!”

  That was a development I didn’t expect. I couldn’t keep my willful mouth shut. “You bought hookers?”

  That took the bishop back a step or two. I definitely stepped on a raw nerve with that one. Obviously agitated, he turned to me and raised his voice. “Stay out of this Mozel, this doesn’t concern you!”

  Captain Stark realized the opportunity that had just presented itself. The bishop had suddenly been put in check by a rook and it was time to advance his knight. “Jacob is a trusted member of my crew and anything that concerns me concerns him, too. And this concerns me a great deal.”

  “There are no churches on Mo’ak.” I didn’t know if I was talking to myself or anyone else in the room, but the words came from my mouth all the same. Pieces were staring to come together in my mind, but I didn’t have them all yet.

  “I wasn’t there. The church bought the girls to give them a better life. They asked to be taken away from all that and your captain was hired to take them to a safe place. Purchasing them was the only way to do it and not get shot by the brothel masters. I had hoped these would only be the first of many.”

  But, there are no churches on Mo’ak. Rook takes queen. It was time to put his king in check.

  I knew I was speaking out of turn, but there was no other choice at the moment. “We’ll meet with the Transit Authority, but only with you and an entire squad of Temple Guardsmen in the room.”

  Captain Stark turned on me. “Just who do you think you are?”

  I looked him square in the eye. “Trust me.”

  We stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity.

  Barabbas broke the silence. “Well, Captain? What’s it going to be? The Transit Authority is waiting inside as well as outside. You’ll never get out of here except through this meeting.”

  Jedediah turned back towards him. “So, you would sell us out? We bring you the cargo you ask for and you would sell us out?”

  “I’m not selling you out.” The bishop regained his self-control, all except for a nervous little tick in his right index finger. I had seen it in him before when we played cards back in school. If I had any doubt before, it was gone now. “I’m simply seeking out a peaceful means to an end.”

  Captain Stark nodded his head. “Very well, Jenna and I will meet them in ten minutes.”

  The bishop shook his head. “No good, they say they have to meet with all of you.”

  Stark cast a glance at me and I nodded slightly. “Alright then, we’ll arm up and meet them in twenty minutes. David, show this man to the aft hatch.”

  “No.” The Bishop stood firm. “No arms in Sanctuary. Only the Temple Guard carry weapons here.”

  There was another tense moment of silence. Stark tensed his mouth and bowed his head in concession. With that, the Bishop was off of the Damascus.

  ***

  When we finally exited the ship, a group of Temple Guards was waiting there to escort us to the meeting room. While the hallways and corridors were st
rictly functional in their purpose, the room where we were to talk was extravagant. The ceiling must have been twelve feet tall and huge pillars of carved oak lined the walls at regular intervals. Oak, so hard to come by since the trees were extinct and yet there was so much of it.

  At either end of the meeting room was elegant gold carvings of Adam and Eve in the garden surrounded by all manner of animals and cherubs with harps flying through the air. In stark contrast to the bright room was the long mahogany table that had the Transit Authority and General Sanders sitting along one side. The guards took their place at either end of the room and the Bishop appeared, standing behind a large chair at the end of the table. He raised one arm, palm up, in our general direction. “Please, have a seat. I’ll moderate and this will be over very soon.”

  We all sat down very slowly and the room was as quiet as a temple. Jenna’s fur had returned to a deep scarlet hue. Her tail eased through the hole in the back of her seat and twitched twice before she settled in.

  General Sanders patted the table with both hands and spoke first. “Okay, somebody has to start here. I’m placing you all under arrest for smuggling prostitutes.”

  Captain Stark leaned on to one elbow and pointed at him. “Now, wait a minute.” He swung his finger around to the clergy as he spoke. “The Bishop paid us to move them as part of a relief effort. We were taking them to a safe place.”

  Barabbas wrinkled his brow, “What are you talking about?”

  Captain Stark was dumbfounded. “I’m talking about you! You paid us to move the girls to Earth so you could help them. You told me yourself! Prostitution didn’t even exist on Mo’ak until five years ago and you were trying to keep it from gaining a foothold!”

  The Bishop sat up a little straighter at the accusations. He looked back and forth between Stark and the General. “This is all news to me. Captain, I don’t know what type of game you’re playing here, but you need to stop making excuses for your crimes.”

  The last piece of the puzzle fell into place in my head. I saw the scheme coming full circle now. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I stood up and raised my voice. “You took the girls and sold them into prostitution!”

 

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