“I don’t have a Bible.”
“Really? Why not?”
“Because the apostle Paul says that only men can read the Bible and only after they’re married.”
Ginger blinked. “I never saw that one. Do you know the verse? I’m pretty sure everyone is supposed to read Scripture, including women.” She took the seat at the desk and woke up her laptop. “Actually, we can probably find the verse ourselves.” If there was such a verse. She browsed to the Biblehub.com site. “What should we use for keywords?”
Deut drew a blank.
“You know, keywords,” Ginger said helpfully. “Let’s start with ‘woman.’” She typed the word into a search field and hit Enter. Woman appeared over four thousand times in the Bible. She skimmed the links out loud: “‘She shall be called woman . . .’ ‘A woman of excellence . . .’ Oh, look, here’s one from your namesake book.”
“My what?”
“You know, the Book of Deuteronomy.”
Ginger moused over and clicked a button. The display was replaced by another screen from which she read, “Deuteronomy 22:5 ‘A woman shall not wear man’s clothing, nor shall a man put on a woman’s clothing; for whoever does these things is an abomination to the Lord your God.’ No, not even close.”
Out of politeness, Deut refrained from pointing out that Ginger was wearing pants. Instead, she said, “What is this? What are you doing?”
“Uh, this is similar to the Strong’s Concordance,” Ginger said, “only it’s online, and in English.”
Another blank look.
“A concordance. You know, like a cross-referenced index of all the words in different versions of the Bible. Type in any word, and it’ll list the verses that contain that word.”
“Oh,” Deut said, “a concordance. Of course.” Instead of pretending she knew what Ginger was talking about (pretending wasn’t exactly lying), Deut knew that she should be fleeing the room. Different versions of the Bible? What was she talking about? Her “buddy,” instead of fortifying her against Satan’s wiles, was leading her to Hell with a keyboard.
Ginger sifted through the results and tried other keywords. She did find the bit about women not speaking in churches, but nothing about women not reading Scripture. [1 Corinthians 14:34–35 “The women are to keep silent in the churches; for they are not permitted to speak. . . If they desire to learn anything, let them ask their own husbands at home; for it is improper for a woman to speak in church.”]
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Ginger said when she exhausted all the keywords she could think of. “I could ask my dad.”
The look of horror on Deut’s face made her add, “Or not. You’re welcome to continue looking yourself.” She stood up to offer Deut the chair.
Temptations were swarming like bats in a cave. “Thank you,” Deut said, “but we’re not supposed to touch a computer.”
“Of course you’re not,” Ginger said.
“What do you mean by that?”
Ginger checked herself. “Nothing, except I have an idea. Wait here. I have to get something.”
She hurried from the room, and returned a moment later with a small, flat object. “It’s Rory’s. I’m sure he won’t mind if you borrow it.”
“What is it?”
“His tablet.” She switched it on. “It’s a tablet, not a computer.” She tapped the screen a few times with her finger. “But it can take you to the same places where computers go. See?” She passed the tablet to Deut. “I’m very interested in what you learn about this verse of yours. It affects all of us, you know, if it exists. And if it doesn’t exist, you should know that too.”
WHEN THE OTHERS were asleep, Deut pulled out Rory’s tablet to continue her research into why her sister should be special in their father’s eyes and not her. They were both twins of a twin, after all. She couldn’t find the verse he was always quoting or indeed any verse about a twin of a twin. In fact, if you believed the concordance, the word “twin” only showed up nine times in the whole Bible, and most of those were in reference to Elder Brother Jesus’ disciple, Thomas, who was a twin. Esau and Jacob were the twin sons of Isaac, and Solomon compared twins to lambs, teeth, and a woman’s breasts. Other than that, nothing. No twins of twins, a verse her father used constantly to shower favors on Sarai and not her. All of which confirmed what Deut had been suspecting all along — Satan had loosed false Bibles upon the fallen world to confound the faithful. No wonder Poppy kept their only copy on his belt.
So there was no point in searching the concordance any further. But the tablet itself was a marvel and a joy to explore. It had books, magazines, television shows, movies, shopping, games, and much more packed into its slim sandwich of metal and glass. She even took a selfie — by accident — a moonlit self-portrait in her nightgown with her hair loose around her shoulders, her lips parted just so, and a little wrinkle of thought troubling her brow. At first she didn’t recognize herself, and when she did, it was all she could do not to succumb to the sin of pride. She was pretty!
It was hard to keep the tablet a secret from her sisters, but she didn’t want to explain the difference between a computer and a tablet if she didn’t have to. She didn’t want to return it either until it was time to go back home. But after a couple of days, it quit working.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Ginger’s brother. “I must have accidentally broke it. I’ll pay for it. How much does it cost?”
Rory was looking right at her but didn’t seem to hear a word she said, and she had to repeat herself.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said finally. “It just needs a charge. It’s fine.”
He smiled funny. He was a funny boy.
NN3 1.0
POPPY WAS PUTTING on his coat when the whippet Keagan came through the dog door. Poppy aimed a kick at it, but the dog escaped untouched.
“Mr. Prophecy!” Rory said. He had witnessed the whole thing from the hallway. “Why are you kicking my dog?”
“That’s no way to talk to me,” Poppy said, going out the door. “Have more respect, boy.”
“Never do that again, Mr. Prophecy,” Rory said. “Am I making myself clear?” But Poppy was already safely out of earshot.
NN4 1.0
POPPY WAS RETURNING to Wallis on the Parks Highway from Houston where he’d gone to check out used acetylene welding tools he’d found on Craigslist. The money donation from NJB — more than $250,000 in rumpled bills — greatly expanded the quantities and variety of end-time supplies that they could afford to purchase. He’d sent the boys to Anchorage with a revised shopping list. Ten 55-gallon drums of various fuels, a back-up generator, deep-cycle storage batteries and control boxes, spare lead battery acid, LED headlamps, lots and lots of AA and AAA batteries, 100-hour candles, hand tools for everything from woodwork to home surgery, antibiotics and pain meds, Proverbs’ special prescription, a new pair of chainsaws and replacement chains and parts, a pair of hand-cranked radios — the list went on for eight handwritten pages.
“Rent a U-Haul truck to carry everything in,” he told Adam, “and avoid the red flags.”
“Lord?”
“They won’t rent vehicles to just anyone, you know. You have to pay with a credit card, not cash.”
“Then how’m I gonna pay?”
“With this.” Poppy handed him his Chase Sapphire card. Poppy didn’t believe in credit cards. They were another diabolical scam of Jewish bankers for skimming wealth from ordinary folks. But he couldn’t run his e-commerce business without one.
“Another red flag,” he went on. “They’ll ask you where you plan to drive their truck. If you tell them you’re driving the McHardy Road, they’ll say it falls outside their operational zone or some bullshit and won’t rent you the truck. So tell them you’re driving it up to Fairbanks by way of Glennallen.”
Adam said, “You want me to lie to them, lord?”
“Lying to the Devil is not lying, son.”
Poppy bought the welding tools with
cash but couldn’t fit the tanks into the borrowed car. The boys would have to return for them with the pickup. The car was a 2010 Toyota Camry he’d borrowed from the Lawther girl. What was her name? Gina? Gerri? No, it was Ginger. Ginger Lawther. What kind of a name was Ginger? (Not to mention the boy’s name — Rory.) Still, Ginger was a fine-looking girl. Maybe a little too headstrong. Nice hair, nice smile. She was the same age as his elder set of twins and might make a match for Proverbs. The boy certainly seemed to think so. She looked physically strong, which would be critical to surviving the next few years. And she had wide hips, the better to bear children with, especially when there would be no doctor or midwife around except him.
In the negative column was the fact that this Ginger had been coddled too much. She was soft and weak inside and would buckle in the first crisis.
Poppy passed the frontage road to the Best Western Motel. That was significant because it was also the road to Lake Lola and the governor’s house. The governor of Alaska spent very little time in the state capital of Juneau. (civic motto: “Where the Hell is Vera?”) She hated the weather there, always raining or snowing, always gloomy. She had no patience for petty politicians. She detested the moldy old governor’s mansion. Her first official act upon becoming governor was to fire the cook. Before the first year of her term had passed, she abandoned the mansion and Juneau altogether in favor of Bradd’s home-cooked meals in their sunny, spacious house on Lake Lola.
For his part, Poppy had always ignored politics and politicians. During his decades of residency in California, he’d have been hard-pressed to name the current governor in Sacramento. He never voted. Elections were a sham. Who cared who made it into office if the price of victory was sucking up to Satan?
But everything changed two years ago when the Alaska governor’s energy rebate program, combined with the annual Permanent Fund Dividend payment, made it possible for the Prophecy family to purchase the Stubborn Mountain Mine. All credit for this miracle went to Father God, of course, but He had worked it through this Vera Tetlin person. Until then, Poppy hadn’t even been aware that the Alaska governor was a woman, let alone a born-again Christian.
Poppy’s curiosity was aroused enough for him to order her memoir, An American Maverick, from Amazon. Not only was it the first book he purchased online, it was the first book he purchased ever. When it arrived, he retired to his prayer cabin to give it his full attention. He read the book cover to cover three times. He had never studied a book, other than the Bible, so thoroughly. [read an excerpt]
Clearly, Vera Tetlin was Father God’s special gift to the world even before the world even knew her name. From her days as champion high school athlete to her first political struggle against the entrenched crypto-Jew mayor of Wallis, Tetlin was confounding the enemies of the Lord. At every crossroads of her life, she turned to Father God for guidance. She was a mom, a world-class leader, and an anointed prayer warrior. Amazing. And stunningly beautiful to boot. Her memoir included dozens of color snapshots of her and her family.
At last Poppy had found his true soulmate. His blossoming love for Vera Tetlin was tender and pure and more fervent than his love even for Mama P, who had given him a peck of babies. He and Mama P were yoked together in the task of raising children for the kingdom, while his (future) union with Vera was a spiritual one by which they would further the Creator’s plan for the world. For the first time in a long time, Poppy had a crush.
When Poppy finished absorbing Tetlin’s memoir, he passed it to Mama P and instructed her to read it very carefully. For all her many flaws, Mama P rarely disobeyed him (openly) or questioned his authority (directly). When he assigned her the book and patiently explained why it was so important, she said, “Should I tell Adam to move another bed into our bedroom?”
“No,” he said, taking her question at face value. “That might be confusing for the children. No, I think it’s probably best if we build her her own little house.”
“Yes, lord, that would probably be best. But what about her husband? Where will poor Bradd Tetlin sleep?”
What about Bradd indeed. During his three readings of Tetlin’s book, Poppy had skimmed over the parts about her husband, who was just a bit player in his wife’s saga. He was a village boy from western Alaska, of mixed Native/white heritage, a part-time commercial fisherman, a winning sno-go racing champion, and North Slope oil line laborer. The “First Dude” wasn’t even baptized in the spirit, let alone saved. He and Vera were so unequally yoked it was a wonder they weren’t pulling their matrimonial sled around in circles.
Yet Bradd was clearly part of the picture. In her memoir, Vera mentioned him on every other page. A reporter once asked her about a rumor going around that she’d been seen stepping out on Bradd with an Anchorage dentist. Her response: “Cheat on Bradd? Are you serious? Bradd’s a hunk. Have you seen Bradd?”
Bradd was the fly in the ointment, a puzzle and a problem, one that the Holy Spirit didn’t clear up for Poppy until the following pre-holiday craft season. The children were busily building up their stock of angels, ornaments, and nativity sets. One day Poppy was inspecting their work when he noticed that all the carved birch figurines of Joseph were smaller than the Virgin Marys. They looked ridiculous, and he told the carvers to throw them in the stove and start over. But Uzzie lifted his sweet, freckled face and said, “Behold, lord, Joseph is a smaller saint.”
How true! How wise! During the Annunciation, when the Holy Spirit impregnated the virgin with the Father’s seed, It saw that Mary would need a human stand-in for a husband. Otherwise, sanctimonious Pharisees would accuse her of fornication and stone her to death.
Enter Joe the Carpenter.
That was who Bradd was, a Joseph to Vera’s Mary.
POPPY SLOWED THE Camry as he came to the Best Western access road intersection. If he wanted to meet Vera Tetlin in person, all he had to do was turn right, drive less than a mile to the lake, and take a left on the shore road. The Tetlin place would be the second house on the right. He’d knock firmly on her door, and she would answer it herself. He wouldn’t have to say a word because, even though they’d never met, she would instantly recognize him for who he was, her preordained partner. She’d say something like, “So there y’are. ’Bout time you showed up, mister.” And she’d give him one of her trademark winks.
Poppy didn’t turn off the highway. He didn’t knock on her door. Even now, as close to the End Times as it was, it was best to leave the time and place of their first meeting to Him. Otherwise he’d be showing the same lack of faith that led Proverbs to shoot the moose.
NN5 1.0
“SO, WHAT BRINGS you out of the woods this time of year?” Rex said. It was the first time the two families had managed to sit down together for a meal. They filled the table and spilled over onto folding chairs and TV trays. Cindy had prepared her old standby for feeding small armies — spaghetti. “Kinda late in the year for a supply run, isn’t it?”
The children kept their little mouths shut while everyone waited for Poppy to thoroughly chew and swallow his mouthful of noodles and take a sip of water before replying, “Toothache.”
“Oh, I heard you all kept Dr. Higgins busy this week. Did he get you squared away?”
Poppy grunted.
Cindy and Ginger asked who wanted seconds, and Deut and Cora jumped up to assist, but Cindy said, “Sit, sit. You’re our guests.”
Ginger added, “And don’t forget there’s cake and jello for dessert.”
When Ginger served Proverbs seconds, he smiled disarmingly and said, “Not to sell my sisters short, but this might be the best spaghetti I ever ate in my life.”
Ginger laughed. “It’s from Ragu. We can’t claim any credit for it.”
“I don’t know who Ragu is, but you’d do well to copy down her recipe when she’s not looking.”
Rex said, “Got plans for church tomorrow? We’d be pleased to welcome you to ours.”
Poppy said, “What church is that?”
&
nbsp; “The Wallis New Hope.”
Cindy added, “Rex is a deacon there.”
“Never heard of it.”
“We’ve been around awhile. Three hundred or so members. We’re strictly Bible-based.”
Rory got up to refill everyone’s glasses, starting with Deut’s. There were 2-liter bottles of soda chilling in the fridge, but the Prophecys seemed to prefer plain, room-temperature tap water.
“Thank you,” Deut said.
“Don’t mention it, Deuteronomy.”
“Which translation?” Poppy said.
“Well, we keep copies of the King James under the seats, but some folks prefer their own NASBs, and we don’t mind. Most any version will get the job done.”
“Most any version will certainly not get the job done,” Poppy said.
“I used to think that too, frankly, but then I tried my hand at teaching Bible study to teen-agers, and I gotta tell you, Prophecy, that with all the firmaments, girded loins, smiting, vouchsafing, and come to passing, I was spending more time defining words than teaching the Word.” He smiled at his own wordplay. “The English language has changed a lot since the sixteenth century, and —”
“What’s that?” Poppy said, cutting Lawther off. He pointed at something on little Pharisees’ lap. “Show it to me!”
The five year old cringed. She held up a small plastic action figure and dared not to look at her father.
Deut said, “It’s a doll, lord.”
“Then why is it blue? Drop it. Drop it this instant.”
See-Saw dropped the toy as though it were scalding hot. “I’m sorry, lord,” she said, on the verge of tears. “I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Ginger exchanged a glance with her mother. Adam and his brothers picked at their food. Rex seemed dumbfounded. Rory set his fork down, smiled at Deut, and picked up the action figure from the floor.
“It’s blue because it’s a Na’vi, Mr. Prophecy.” He brought it over to him for a closer look. “The Na’vi are an alien species from the moon Pandora. It’s from the movie Avatar. I don’t know if you’ve had a chance to see it, but the —”
Upon This Rock Page 14