A New Eden

by Quent Cordair

  “Now, do you think your acting lessons were worthwhile?” he asked.

  He seemed pleased with himself, she thought, but rightfully no doubt. The Church had recruited several professional screen actors into its ranks, two of whom had been tasked with teaching their craft to Skye and several other promising young Obadites, with classes twice a week for eighteen months prior to Skye’s landing her first film role. Many of the exercises she had found rather silly – she could easily pretend to be anything or anyone, in just about any situation and at the drop of a hat; she could readily slip into nearly any character’s skin – but what she had learned of the technical aspects of production, what happens during actual filming and how to conduct oneself professionally during a shoot, that knowledge had been, admittedly, invaluable.

  “For the most part, sir, yes, thank you. I’m very glad the producer is pleased. The director seems pleased as well.”

  “Pleased? They’re ecstatic. Of course, I’m hardly surprised. Just between you and me, the producer thinks your performance, particularly, is going to make this movie a big success – that this Rory fellow’s fame might be what brings the audience to the theater, but it will be your performance that causes them to come back – and to recommend it to all their friends.”

  “It’s Cory, sir.”

  “Cory?”

  “Cory – Cory Vaughn, sir. The actor.”

  “Rory, Cory – I’m sure you can act circles around him, from what I’m hearing.”

  “I’m pleased that everyone is pleased, sir. Above all, I’m pleased that you’re happy. To be able to make you proud of anything I’ve done – ”

  “Not that word, Skye. Never that word. Never pride. We can allow ourselves to be grateful and humbly thankful that God has blessed you with such seemingly boundless talents, beauty, and spirit, that He has chosen to work through you to be His heaven-sent shining light to this dark and sinful world – ” his speech pattern had shifted into the surging, rolling cadence of the professional preacher – “that He has chosen to work through you for reasons and to ends that only He knows, bathem. Yes, for reasons that only He knows, to shine as only you can shine, my dear – ”

  He hadn’t meant to say “dear” but it had escaped his lips even so. Chagrined, he hastily moved on. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed –

  “We must all use what the Lord has given us, to the best of our ability, Sister Skye. Now, I trust you’ll be soloing with the choir again tomorrow morning?”

  “I believe so, sir, though I haven’t heard anything from Brother Flynn yet. There’s a shortened choir rehearsal tonight before Passion rehearsal.”

  “Oh, you will be soloing. I’ll send a reminder to Brother Flynn in the unlikely event that he has any notions to the contrary. The congregation has very much been anticipating your return, and with Passion starting, attendance should be at capacity. We’re looking forward to seeing our TV numbers back up to where they were before you left too. Then after Passion, you’ll be returning to Los Angeles, yes?”

  “That’s what I understand, sir. We have a few scenes to re-shoot, and they’ve written several new songs for the soundtrack. They would like to include one that I’ve written as well, as a bonus track.”

  “A song that you yourself have written? My, and now you’re writing songs too, on top of everything else?” He shook his head as if in wonder, though he had already been approached by the producer about the song and had signed off on it. “I surely can’t be surprised at God’s blessings for you. I’ll need to hear the song first, of course.” He checked the clock on the wall behind her. “But perhaps tomorrow afternoon. I’ve no reason to suspect that it won’t glorify the Lord. Speaking of your singing, while you were away I had a meeting with Brother Flynn. He couldn’t be more pleased with your voice work. He claims that there’s nothing more he can teach you, and being Juilliard-trained himself, that’s really something, don’t you think? I wasn’t going to mention this, but we’ve been looking into hiring another voice instructor for you. Brother Flynn sent recordings to several people in New York, the solo you sang on the Sunday before you left. One teacher, I believe, seemed almost willing to pay us for the opportunity to work with you. Another said that your voice brought her to tears, and to quote her, she said that she’s rarely come across such an instrument. Another was honest enough to answer that if perhaps you were going into opera, he might work with you more, but for the kind of music we’re doing, he would hesitate to change anything. I happen to agree with that assessment.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve worked very hard at it, as you know, sir, and will continue to do so. I’ll do my best on the album.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a moment, my d – ” He caught himself this time. Why was he weak today? When she had walked in, it had been so immeasurably difficult to resist going around the desk and enfolding her in his arms – and he had never done that. Not once in her life. Ever. One would think it would get easier. Was it because he hadn’t seen her in so long? The eight weeks she’d been gone was as long as he had been away from her since –

  “Skye, I would like to send Jonathon with you back to Los Angeles on the next trip, but after this afternoon’s incident, I have to wonder if I shouldn’t replace him with someone new.”

  “Brother Lundquist! But why? Oh, please don’t! Jonathon only did what I asked him to do. It was my idea. It was my fault. Really, it was. But we didn’t need to have permission to leave campus, did we? I haven’t had to have permission since I was seventeen!”

  “I just don’t understand why you still feel the need to go running off to see that woman at the drop of a hat. You knew very well that I was expecting to see you here as soon as you arrived home.”

  “But Amuma has been ill, sir! She fainted the other day. She was in the hospital. She might have died while I was away! What kind of Christian would I be if I failed to care about the people I love most, especially when they’re sick?”

  The “love” stung him. The “most” more so. He hated jealousy, hated the jealousy that was so deeply and inextricably rooted in his nature, hated himself for the nature of his nature. “For the sake of our souls, Skye, we must learn to control our urges and feelings – and if we can’t control our feelings, we must try as hard as we can not to act on our impulses. It’s simple human weakness, but weakness against which we must always pray for God’s strength. Eileen Vasari is not of the Flock. She’s not even Christian. I know that you spent a fair amount of time at her place when you were younger, and I let it go on far longer than I should have. That is my fault, for which I accept full responsibility, and I’ve asked the Lord’s forgiveness. It seemed harmless enough at the time, your playing there with the other children, and it’s my error for not having foreseen the consequences. I should have recognized that you would make attachments. However, you’re a grown woman now, and – ”

  “But the attachments are made, sir. How can they be unmade? And why should they be? I don’t want them unmade! Amuma and Max and the dogs – they’re practically family to me. More than family – ”

  He rose from his chair to full height. Leaning forward, he placed his hands wide on the desk, a looming pyramid.

  “The Flock is your family, young lady!”

  She turned away and stared through the window.

  “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Skye Emberly.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You are no longer a child.”

  “Then why in heaven am I still being treated like one?”

  “Skye!” he thundered.

  Her name rumbled through the room, lingering in the reverberation. Lundquist clenched his eyes, bowed his head and whispered fierce words of repentance. When he looked up again, she was staring fixedly at the floor.

  “I don’t want to be angry with you, Skye. Please don’t make me angry with you. I am only here on this earth to help transmit and convey God’s will and His love to His children – and I know in my heart – I know – that you are on
e of his most precious. Maybe even the most precious. To question me is to question God, and that is a thing you must never do.”

  He straightened tall and began pacing the floor, the striding pace he fell into when practicing his sermons, the pace he employed on the wide cathedral stage when delivering God’s words to the thousands, to the millions on television, every eye on him.

  “Skye Emberly, God has blessed you with so much. He has given you so much. You are so special. You are exceptional – exceptionally exceptional. He has such greatness in store for you – I know that He does. In exchange for the blood of His only Son and the sacrifice of the Prophet, bathem, the Lord asks only for our love, for our faith, for our dedication. It is so little. Our obedience – our obedience, Skye. Sometimes obeying is difficult, so very difficult, it runs against our nature – but is obedience too much to ask in return for the agony and death Jesus suffered for us on the cross? Is our submission such a high price to pay for Christ giving us eternal life, for God’s forgiveness of our sinfulness?”

  She looked up at him through her curls. “But what does any of this have to do with Amuma, sir? Aren’t we supposed to love even those who don’t love God? Didn’t Jesus reach out to the sinners and unbelievers, to the prostitutes and the tax collectors? How are we supposed to be an example and lead anyone to Christ if we stay locked away in this compound – ”

  “This campus, Skye.” It was all he could do not to pound his fists on the table. “There are no walls around us. Who have you heard call it a ‘compound’? Mrs. Vasari? That’s just the sort of derogatory, dishonest term someone like her would use. She’s not a good influence, Skye. I’ve known that woman longer than you’ve been alive, and she has a carnal, proud spirit – she and her wanton affinity for human nakedness, her penchant for displaying Man in his most exposed, shameful, and vulnerable state, as though she were laughing in God’s face at His creation. I’ve come to believe that the Devil himself is working through Eileen Vasari to some evil end. Satan hates this Church and everything it stands for – he’s fighting us tooth and nail – and if Satan can find some way to get to you and snatch you away from God, Skye – you of all people – it would be such a great victory for Evil and such a great loss for . . . for the Flock. . . . Look at me when I’m speaking to you!”

  She had been staring at the front edge of the desk. She raised her eyes again.

  He didn’t want to think about where the emotion had come from, but the pain and confusion in her eyes melted his anger as quickly as it had risen. The anxiety in his soul, however, was increasing.

  “You know that God loves you, don’t you, Skye?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And that I only want what is best for you – what God’s will is for you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He walked to the window. His long finger traced the line of the eastern slope of the hill, from the summit down to the eastern foot, now in the afternoon’s shadow. His finger stopped there, tapping at the glass.

  “I’ve prayed over this, Skye. I’ve prayed long and hard for the Lord’s guidance, and God has responded that He needs us now – He needs us now more than ever. He needs all of our time and attention. Every minute and every hour of our lives on this earth is precious. He has great things in store for His Church, and He needs us to be fully dedicated, fully focused on doing His work. Great things are on the horizon, and we must prepare and be prepared – we must be ready. We are Christ’s bride. We must be ready and pure for Him when He comes.” He began pacing again. “God has been working His plan for you, Skye, His plan for your entire life, and His time for you to shine is nigh upon us. This is the time to turn away from worldly things and to be pure and holy in His sight. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child . . . But now is the time to put away childish things.”

  He stopped and turned to her. It pained him to cause her pain, but no good in the world comes without sacrifice and long-suffering – these were the virtues that had to be cultivated and learned. This was for her own good. Her soul – her precious soul above all souls – could not be risked. Or so he had to believe. So he made himself believe. Let this be another of his sacrifices, then. Let his own wretched jealousy serve God’s ends. The shame – the shame was always there. The repentance would come later, as it always did.

  “Skye, I must forbid you from visiting Mrs. Vasari again. This is God’s will.”

  “But – Brother Lundquist!”

  “In time you’ll know this is right, Skye.”

  “Please, Brother Lundquist. Oh, no – please!” Tears of disbelief pooled in her eyes. Her fingers dug into her skirt. “I promise I won’t go again until after graduation. Please.”

  “I’m sorry, Skye, but no. No.”

  “I’ve been getting straight A’s. I’ll keep getting A’s, I promise. I’m on track to graduate near the top of the class. I’ll graduate at the top.”

  “God expects nothing less than your best.”

  “I won’t visit her again until after we finish the choir album. I’ll get everything done – and more. I’ll put in more hours at the orphanage. I could visit her for just an hour or two after the children’s choir tour, if we do really well. I . . .” she looked around, “I could help cook for you here. . . .”

  “No exceptions, Skye. This is final. I’m sorry, but it is time for us to move on, to walk straightly upon the path the Lord has chosen for us, the path the Prophet has blazed. You don’t need Eileen Vasari. You have me. I am here for you always. You have the entire Flock as your family. You know that your God-chosen family loves you dearly. And how do you think it makes them feel when you’d prefer to spend your time with someone who rejects the sacrifice God made for us, someone who rejects the blood Jesus spilled, who rejects the Prophet’s work and the Church the Lord has built? It doesn’t set a good example, Skye, particularly for the children, for the Little Lambs. Think of them. Eileen Vasari has had a lifetime of opportunity, living as she does right at the foot of the Lord’s most Holy Hill, and yet, in the very shadow of the peak that was emblazoned with God’s glory by the grace of the Prophet, bathem, that heathen woman still turns her back on God and His Flock. No, I’m sorry, Skye, but my word – God’s word – is final.”

  Her tears fell, splashing silently on the waxed, polished floor. She shook her head in slow disbelief, but said nothing more.

  His desire to go to her was unbearable – to take her in his arms, to hold her, to comfort her, to cradle her. It tore at his heart to see her shoulders slumped, her back bent, this sunlit girl who glided across the earth, always radiating such profound happiness. But she simply had to learn. She had to learn to be strong, to be more like him, to sacrifice – if she were ever going to be able to stand where God wanted her to stand one day, to do whatever it was that He wanted her to do. She would be great. She had to be great.

  “That’s quite enough now, Skye. Quite enough. . . .” He extended his handkerchief woodenly. She accepted it but only to ball it into her fist in her lap. “Enough with the crying already, Skye. You’ve already missed Early Worship and you risk being late to dinner. Now, go down the hall to the restroom, straighten yourself up and don’t leave until your eyes have cleared. You can’t ever be seen in the condition you’re in now. You must hold your head high and smile and radiate God’s love and blessings, as you always do. You must be strong even when you’re breaking inside. You are our best and our brightest, the Flock’s shining star. The children raise their eyes to you and the elders bathe in the glow of the Lord’s spirit shining through you. You are God’s angel on this earth, Skye Emberly. You must give Him everything in return. You are the example. You are the model, my dear.”

  By the time Skye crossed the threshold, her chin was raised and her back was straight. The door was left open behind her.

  * * *

  Lundquist called for Gideon Cane. The young man took three brisk steps into the room, stopped, and stood stiffly at attentio
n, heels together, arms straight at his sides, fingers curled with thumbs aligned with his trouser seams. His eyes were focused directly ahead, somewhere over Lundquist’s left shoulder, on nothing in the room.

  Lundquist re-shuffled the papers on the desk.

  “Come,” he said impatiently.

  Gideon advanced to within three feet of the desk and brought his heels together again. Lundquist came around and stood within six inches of his face.

  “Two steps back,” he ordered quietly. The distance allowed a thorough, head-to-toe examination. While the young man’s uniform was being inspected, his mind would be as well: “Second Corinthians, chapter 12, verse 9.”

  Gideon hesitated only a moment. “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

  His hair was trimmed close and tight, as was his short, squared-off beard. His black shirt and trousers were neatly pressed and lint free, without a thread protruding from a button or seam, any loose ends having been meticulously burned away to guard against unraveling.

  “Verse 10.”

  “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.”

  “First Peter 5:5.”

  “Likewise, ye younger, submit yourselves unto the elder. Yea, all of you be subject one to another, and be clothed with humility: for God resisteth the proud, and giveth grace to the humble.”

  The bottom of his black tie was the required two finger-breadths above the top of the belt buckle, which was shined to a high finish and, per regulation, smudge free.

  “The Prophet’s Word 5:16.”

  “In my wretchedness did I fall prostrate in His presence, and on the third day, when my mind and soul had been emptied of all worldly desire, He did fill me with His love and forgiveness.”