CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: The Procession
Rau stood in the Botanic Gardens.
Many thousands had gathered now, with Joshua, from all over Wellington region. Word must have gotten out! Of the five hundred thousand in the region, Rau was sure now a hundred thousand must be there – covering the pavements, spilling across grass: pressed between redwoods, oaks and pine trees, and flowering plants. More were watching from the road.
Police were scattered around the crowd – Rau noticed they looked a little nervous. Politicians were there too, he was sure of it – wearing suits, in the cool day.
Rau stood close to Joshua – and looked for John and Rachel, finding them also close by. Where was Tristan? He hadn’t seen him since the night before, on Mount Victoria! Hadn’t seen him since…
And now Rau remembered, though he longed not to, Joshua’s words.
“Do you really believe you are strong enough to die for me? You’re wrong!”
Was Joshua truly going to die that very day? Every day was vulnerable – every day was precious. Rau looked at him, now: standing before the crowd, arms stretched out.
“Tomorrow you will pretend you never knew me.”
How could it be? In that moment, Rau was certain that he would protect him – that if someone was to pull a gun, he would step in the way. He loved him! He loved him as friend, as brother – as precious master.
“I’ll never betray you,” he whispered. “Never.”
“Decide!” Joshua called out to the crowd. “Who will you follow? Who will you trust? Decide, for time is running out!”
“What decision?” A woman asked, in a business jacket and skirt. “I am Tracy Harrison, of the Clean Green Party. What are you doing here? Where are you going with this?”
“I’m going to my own kingdom,” Joshua said, and Rau shifted on his feet. Did he have to be that direct?
“Your own kingdom?” Rau recognised this was the Leader of the Opposition himself, there in the crowd: Patrick Clarkson. “We don’t believe in your kingdom – we believe in our own!”
Now a few angry shouts went up. “Let him speak!” some said.
“No way!” others argued. “He’s talking about a kingdom, here! He can forget it!”
Rau glanced quickly to John, who was also looking at him, his face grave. Danger…
“You won’t be able to come,” Joshua said, “where I am going! I have to go first, and then you can follow.”
“Where to?” Clarkson asked. “Parliament? We’re ready for you, if you try it!”
Rau stared at his face. What did he mean, ready for them?
Joshua continued, unabated.
“I’ll go first, but follow me now!” he said. “Follow me, as far as you can – and then no further. See what you must see – see it for yourselves.”
And he moved down the driveway of the gardens, toward the street.
Rau quickly followed him. What would happen now? John and Rachel were behind him, and the crowd pressed in, close to them. They were packed! Rau felt himself jostled forward, and now they were on Salamanca Road.
“Stop shoving!” someone called out.
“He’s moving away.”
“Follow him! Don’t lose him!”
Voice after voice shouted out, and Rau’s ears rang with the din. He kept walking – kept pressing forward.
“Joshua!” someone called. “Where are you going?
Rau stumbled on, and forced his way through more bodies – until he could see Joshua again. The road was clear, ahead of him – there were no cars. He walked into Bolton Street, and the crowd followed – but there was someone there in the front, talking with him.
“Sir,” the man said, “I am Rawiri Heka, of the Maori party.”
“I know who you are,” Joshua said.
“Please tell us what your intentions are.”
“My intentions have always been peaceful.”
“We understand that, Sir, but you seem to be bringing a hundred thousand people to…to Parliament.”
Joshua smiled wryly at him. “Isn’t this country a democracy?”
He continued walking, and Heka stood aside to let him pass. Clarkson somehow was there again.
“Stop this!” he said. “Or your actions will be interpreted as an act of war!”
“An act of war?” someone cried out. “How stupid is that?”
“The joker thinks he’s a king!”
“Don’t insult him!”
“Well what do you think, that he’s a king? Your majesty!”
Rau noticed out of the corner of his eye: someone performed a mock bow, but the crowd kept pushing, and then others were falling over him.
“Hey!” he cried out. “Get off!” And he shoved the others aside.
Now a fist fight quickly started. Rau stared, but couldn’t stop it – he was being pushed forward.
“Joshua!” he cried, but Joshua was too far ahead.
Now the police pushed through the crowd. “Enough!” an officer said. “Stop it!”
He pushed the two apart, and the crowd continued to swell.
They were on The Terrace, pressing down to Bowen Street. Rau swallowed. Why did Joshua have to go to the Beehive? Why did he have to make such a bold statement?
“You know where he’s going!” someone called out, with a laugh. “He wants to take over Parliament!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” a woman said.
“That’s it!” another man said. “Time for Joshua to rule! I choose Joshua as king!”
A chorus of voices joined in, and the words quickly became a chant.
“We choose Joshua as king! We choose Joshua as king!”
Now the shoving became stronger.
“Shut up!” other voices said. “Can you believe it? Royalists, in our capital city! God save the Queen!”
“Joshua is King!”
“Don’t be stupid!”
And now real fighting began. Rau’s heart pounded – the police officers again slipped within the crowd, to separate the fighters: but punches landed on the officers, and now they were pulling out their batons.
“God,” Rau whispered in prayer, “help us.”
“We’re coming in peace!” Joshua’s voice drifted over the crowd. “Don’t fight! What can you achieve with fighting? Only bruises! We haven’t come to fight, only to show.”
And he kept walking, and the crowd seemed to calm down.
They reached Bowen Street. Joshua turned right, and now they could see the Beehive through the metal rail fence, on their left. Rau stared at the brown ten story structure. From there the Government ruled! Joshua seemed to be looking at it, thinking, but the front entrance to the Parliament buildings was still five minutes’ walk away.
A peaceful demonstration, Rau thought to himself. That was what this was! Nothing to fear.
Joshua walked on, and turned left into Lambton Quay. The first gate was locked – he walked past it. But Rau looked through it, and the sight chilled him: there, gathered in the Parliament grounds, was the Army.
Rau hesitated. The crowd swept past him – they hadn’t yet seen the sight. Rau continued to move forward, but found himself easing away to the outside of the crowd.
Joshua was walking up Molesworth Street – and now he stopped outside the other gate.
The Army was waiting for him. They stood at attention – perhaps two hundred officers. They reached for their rifles, as one man, and laid them ready against their shoulders.
Rau was in Molesworth. He hurried past the gate, and to the other side. St Peter’s Cathedral was just a little further, on the right! A refuge! A refuge, if they should need to run.
“What’s going on?” someone called out. “Our Army in our Parliament gardens?”
“Stay back!” an Army officer called out, from the front row, rifle ready.
“You can’t do this!” someone else said. “We are New Zealand citizens! We have a right to enter our own Parliament grounds!”
“Stay back, or we wi
ll fire!”
“Like hell you will!” A tall young man angrily stepped forward. “Stuff this for a joke!”
And he thrust himself through the gate.
“No!” Joshua cried, but the army response was swift. The officer drew tall, his rifle ready, and shot the man.
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd. Joshua quickly moved forward, lifted the man in his arms, and stepped back – laying him on the ground. Rau saw Rachel there – but Joshua laid a hand on her arm, passed a hand over the man’s chest, and prayed.
The man was well. Astonished, Rau stared – but the crowd started to explode.
“Look!” someone cried. “It’s a miracle! Joshua has come from God – quick, follow him! Parliament’s going to fight him, see? Parliament’s going to attack him with the Army! Fight! Fight for Joshua! Fight!”
“No!” Joshua’s voice cried, but the woman ran forward, into the army, and she also was shot.
Now the crowd lost control. They swept forward, pressing, pressing through the Parliament black gate. Some of the army was smothered, other officers were firing – and now the police were starting to beat many in the crowd.
“Do you really believe Joshua is Jesus Christ now?” A voice spoke into Rau’s ear.
Rau shook, and looked up. It was Mark Blake, the Bishop of Wellington. His face was hard – his eyes intense, set upon Rau with accusation: with blame, and with imminent punishment.
Rau swallowed. The crowd had lost control! They were being killed! Their own people were being killed. Was this was he had expected? No! He had expected peace! He had longed for peace.
Was this Joshua really the Christ?
Rau looked at Joshua. His face was pale, his voice raised – his words were achieving nothing. Rau believed in him! He still believed. But as he looked at Mark Blake, as he felt the bishop’s stare, as he remembered his family, and their humiliation if he should be excommunicated from the church, he felt his throat constrict. It was all over. There was no going back, now – not for Joshua. Rau’s only hope was to return up north, and pretend nothing had happened.
“No,” he whispered. “I don’t believe he is the Christ.”
“Tomorrow you will pretend you never knew me.”
Never knew…Rau suddenly realized his meaning. Not the simple ‘knew’ of ordinary acquaintance – the true knowledge! The true knowledge of his identity.
He had done it! He had pretended Joshua was not Christ, when he knew, in his heart of hearts, that he was. A picture of Christ! A representation of Christ.
He had betrayed him.
Blake’s face broke into a knowing smile – a smile of satisfaction. Rau felt his vision blur. He had denied him! The one he loved! He had denied him.
Pain filled his heart, but so did fear. What would happen now? What would happen? He couldn’t bear to stay and find out – couldn’t bear to watch Joshua die.
He ran away – and Blake’s smile seemed to follow him, everywhere he went.
A New Kind of Zeal Page 34