Allegory
a novella

by robby charters

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2008 by robby charters


Also by Robby Charters:

Pepe
Eetoo
The Story of Saint Catrick
The Zondon

Available at Smashwords.com



Find more information at:
bobcharters.blogspot.com

or

www.TinyUrl.com/RobbysBooks


Allegory

First Day

I wake up. I'm lying on a bare wooden floor in a plain room. The plaster on the walls looks new. It's neither been painted nor papered. The floor definitely looks as though it were made to be covered with carpet or lino -- anything. It's got sploshes of plaster all over it. Where the light switches and fixtures should be, there are holes with wires sticking out with the bare ends wrapped in black sticky-tape. There's a bay window with a bit of light coming in.
I've never seen an emptier room.
And, I'm stark naked. 
What am I doing naked in an empty room? I don't remember. I don't even remember going to sleep. 
Did I get drunk or something? I know that happens to people. But I don't think I'm the type who gets drunk. 
Then again, I don't even remember that for sure. 
I don't remember anything. I've heard of people who showed up somewhere, stark naked, with total Amnesia. I don't remember where I've heard it -- I just know it's happened. 
Oh God! Now it's happened to me!
Maybe there's something in another room that'll jog my memory. I get up, but I'm careful not to go near the window. Not till I find some clothes.
There are several rooms. All of them are bare and empty. Again, I stay away from windows. The kitchen has a counter and a sink, and gaps where the fridge and stove should go. I try the tap, but it's dry. 
This would actually be a nice house if it had carpet, some decent wall paper and furniture, and lights and water. I like the way the rooms are laid out. Everything looks as though it were bigger than in a normal house though.
I try the stairs. They're higher than normal steps. At the top there's a bathroom. There's a tub, a loo with no water in it, a sink and a mirror. Again, every thing's big.
I look in the mirror. 
I look young -- very young. While I don't remember anything, at least I'm sure I wasn't the young boy that I see in the mirror. I'm positive I was an adult. 
Then why the heck do I look like that?
It does look like me though -- when I was 12 or 13.
No wonder everything in this house looks big. It's me that's smaller! Well -- that would explain it if it made sense.
I do sort of remember that that was a rather awkward time of my life. It was an age in which changes began to happen. I seem to remember, later, having these vague questions in my mind about this stage of my life: had things worked out differently, where would I be now -- meaning the 'now' before I apparently fell asleep and woke up here. 
So, what happened? Did I fall asleep at that age and dream I had grown to adulthood? Did my parents move and abandon me? Did I accept candy from a stranger who kidnapped me and stuck me in this empty house?
I know I'm not dreaming. I feel everything, the floor under my feet, my backache from sleeping on the hard floor, the texture of everything I touch -- it just doesn't happen this way in dreams.
In storybooks they pinch themselves to make sure they're not dreaming. I suppose, if you've seen a genie or appeared in a fairy castle or something. This is too ordinary for that.
The mirror tilts so I can see my whole body. 
I look ugly. People have told me I'm handsome, but I don't think so. 
I seem to remember that sometimes I thought being nude brought a sensual feeling -- it made me feel sexy, even at 13. Now, I just feel ugly. 
But now, I've got other problems. I'm inside this strange house. I'm naked. Apart from a mirror, a bath tub, a loo with no water, a kitchen and bathroom sink, there's absolutely nothing in the house. 
I go to one of the upstairs windows, which are high enough to not reveal my lower body. 
There's only the wall of another building a few feet away. Out another window, I can see into another unfinished house. No matter which way I look out, I only see more walls, some windows, some sky if I look up, and dirt if I look down. 
The room at the end of the corridor is what I've always wanted in a house. It's almost like a wardrobe, except it includes the upstairs bay window. There's enough room to put an armchair. The box in front of the bay window is also good for sitting on and looking out -- if only people couldn't just look up and see my nude body just inside the window. I open the window box. It's empty.
I can't believe this house has a room like this. If only there was a view -- I mean  other than the back wall of the next house.
Now, I approach the bay window of the family room directly downstairs and look down at a muddy patch between this and the next house. There are prints of bare feet in the mud. They look like a child's.
What do I do now? 
I could stick my head out the door and cry for help. Maybe the neighbours could lend me a pair of trousers and call the police for me. 
But all the houses around about look empty, like this one.
I could venture outside -- maybe. 
If I were desperate enough. 
I'm not desperate enough yet. 
I sit and lean against the wall near the spot where I woke up. 
I try to remember.
I can't remember anything very clearly.
Those events from when I was the boy I now see in the mirror seem almost within reach -- like a dream that just faded -- but I still don't remember them. There are other things that happened after that, but they are even more dim.
I don't remember any events, but I do have perceptions, impressions, beliefs, and I know facts about this and that. 
I remember lots of theology -- stuff about being 'born again', and 'letting Jesus into your heart'. That sort of thing. 
I also know a lot of science, economic theory, how to draw a still life, a portrait, a landscape. 
I was an artist. 
If I had my canvas and oils, how would I render myself now? Cubist? Impressionist? I don't see what I could add to the surrealism that I seem to be locked in already. I feel as though I were the subject of one of Escher's drawings. 
I also remember science fiction concepts. There's the pulp fiction, with Klingons, Jedi and warp-speed, but I was more into things like alternative histories, speculative fiction, cyberpunk, utopias and dystopias; there are possible futures, like in Brave New World, or an Orwellian one where 'Big Brother' is constantly watching. 
That's it! Maybe I've been captured and modified by aliens, or cloned by a mad scientist, or -- naaa.
I think the theology comes closer to explaining things. Still not that close though. 
So, what happened -- really? Did I die? Am I in heaven or hell? 
If this keeps up, it might end up being like hell. What am I going to eat? I'm already thirsty.
But in hell, they've got fire and brimstone. Maybe it's a C.S. Lewis type of hell, as in The Great Divorce? 
It can't be Purgatory. Catholics believe in Purgatory, but they're wrong about most things. It's not in the Bible.
According to what I was taught, I'd be in heaven now if I had died. I mean, Jesus died for all my sins, didn't he, and I accepted that by faith. I said a prayer once, and admitted I was a sinner in need of salvation. I felt different after that. 
Someone had asked me, 'If you died tonight, where would your soul be?'
Sitting naked in an empty house, surrounded by other empty houses? Not my idea of either heaven or hell -- well, hell maybe. It doesn't make sense. 
Nothing makes sense.
For right now, I'll assume that I really am a 13-year-old boy with amnesia left inside a vacant house. 
I've got to get help. 
I'm a bit squeamish about going outside in the nude, but if that's what has to be done to get help, I'd better do it. Otherwise, I'll die of thirst.
I guess I must be getting desperate. I even feel like I could have a panic attack if I don't do something.
I open the front door a crack. 
How did they ever get Council permission to build houses so close together? 
I step outside. 
Why! This place is a jungle of houses! There's no footpaths, no lawns, only houses with a couple of feet between -- sometimes not that much. There's no order.
I leave a rock in the door to prop it open. There are steps going down into the mud.
There are the footprints. I also see dirty hand prints on the wall. The hands are a bit smaller than mine.
I don't dare go far, as I'm sure I'd quickly get lost in this jungle of houses. Why I should worry about getting lost, I don't know, but I am. Somehow I seem attached to this house. 
I venture between the two houses, following the footprints. At least I can follow them back again later. There are my own footprints as well. 
I look at the other houses as I go. They're all in different styles. There's brick, wood, stone, stucco, Victorian, Gothic, Greek, Modern, Postmodern, there's a Swiss style chalet, an Irish farm house, there's one with a thatch roof. I've never seen a neighbourhood with such a variety. 
I like the house I found myself in the best though. Somehow, the style and layout is perfect.
Oh God! Someone is looking at me from a window -- a child's face. As soon as I look back, it disappears.
Whoever it was, saw me naked! I'm sure he or she must think I'm insane.
I walk a bit further, around another corner, still following the footprints. 
Then I see her -- the owner of the foot prints. 
She is also naked, but very thin, scrawny and dirty. 
I know why I'm out walking in the nude. What's she doing out here?
I seem to remember that kids look cute in the nude, but this one looks anything but. Reminds me more of a goblin.   
She's digging away in the mud. Then she looks up at me. I'm not so embarrassed now -- not by someone looking like that. She just looks casually, and goes back to digging. 
After a while, she says, 'New here, aren't you.'
I hesitate. 'I guess.' 
'I can tell. You 're still fat.'
I'm not that fat -- well, compared to her maybe.
She pulls a worm out of the mud and plops it into her mouth.
'Yuuech! Why did you do that?'
'Only thing there is to eat.'
'What? Worms?'
'Yep. There's also maggots, slugs, snails, if you're lucky you might find a mole.'
'What is this place anyway?'
'You are new here.'
'How long have you been here?'
'Long enough to quit ask'n.'
This gets worse by the second!
She looks as though she could have been a beautiful girl at one time. I think her hair is brown, but it's hard to be sure. It's long and straight in parts, but hopelessly knotted in others.  
'What's your name?' I ask.
'Becky -- I think.'
'You don't know?'
'Do you know your name?'
I suddenly realise I don't.
'Does anyone else live around here?'
'Sure! There's someone in every house. Some hardly ever come out though.'
'Why?'
'Scared, mostly. Some of them embarrassed to be nude.'
'What about you?'
'Stopped being embarrassed long ago. No sense in it. You starve - like Alec, the kid who lived in your house before you.'
'My house?'
'Yeah.'
'How do you know where I live?'
'I looked in your window and saw you sleeping. The house changed, so I knew someone new was there.'
Then those were her hand prints I saw on my wall. Not that this makes any more sense than before.
'Where can I find something to drink?'
'I'll take you to Tony's house.'
She gets up and starts walking. I follow her.
We've passed dozens of houses, Probably goes on like this for miles, and not a single phone to call out for help. And still she's walking. She turns a corner every now and then. 
There are no straight lines here. The houses aren't in neat rows. You have to go around all of them, and find your way between them. Some are placed at an angle, some with only half a foot or a few inches in between, so you have to go the long way around.
There's another kid digging for worms. I can't even tell if it's a boy or a girl. Becky just walks right past without a word. 
She notices me looking back.
'Don't talk to him. He's a total scumbag.'
Every now and then, I see more faces looking out at us. We pass more kids digging, or walking about. All of them look worse than pictures I've seen of starving children in African refugee camps. We're constantly having to step over and around holes where people have been digging.
It's looking less and less like I'm going to get rescued.
'How did we get here?' I ask.
'Donno. I think we must'a died or something.'
Died! Oh God! Then it is...
We keep walking.
'Were you a Christian?' I venture.
'Must not'a been a good one if I was. I ended up here, didn't I!'
Becky finally goes up the steps of a house, and knocks.
So I'm dead. That's one question settled, anyway. But somehow I hadn't expected anything like this.
The door is opened by a red haired boy who looks much healthier than Becky. He looks at her and sighs, 'You're such a leach!'
Then he sees me. He says, 'Oh okay. Over there.' and points towards the kitchen.
There's about six or so kids lined up. Some are older, some younger, mostly thin and scrawny.
I take my place at the end of the line, behind Becky. The water only comes out at a trickle, so it's taking forever. 
A boy in front of Becky looks at me. 'You're new.'
He turns around again without waiting for an answer.
I don't seem to be shocked at all to see people nude. It suddenly seems totally natural. It's not like on Earth, where one or two parts of the body stand out. You just see the whole person at once. 
In fact, I think I've lost the ability to feel sexually stimulated.
A couple of kids in front get into a fight. Tony comes to break it up. He acts as though he's everyone's big brother.
'One more fast one out of you, and you're out, understand?' he says. 'Now, the rest of you, keep that line straight. We've got to keep this orderly.'
He says to the kid in front of Becky, 'All this time you've been coming, you haven't gained any weight. Something's wrong with you.'
'How can we?' he answers. 'You haven't been give'n us noth'n.'
'It's because of you lot -- you're not appreciating it. You're not treating it right, so the blessing's stopped.' He sighs. 'I should be living inside the Heavenly City, but I was put here to make you all into an orderly community, not a bunch of rag-tag worm-digging louts. And you, Becky, your problem is, you're such a leach. Good of you to bring someone though, but if you'd quit being a leach you'd start getting blessed.' 
As he goes back to sitting down, Becky breaths, 'Oh! Shut up!'
At long last it's my turn at the tap. 
I cup my hands and begin drinking.
The water tastes terrible, but I drink anyway. It takes almost forever to satisfy my thirst. 
If I'm going to  have to walk all this way every time I want a drink, I don't know. 
I return to the family room, and Tony is sitting against the wall. Becky is standing near the door.
'How do you get your taps to run?' I ask.
'Prayer is the answer, brother. Prayer opens doors that man can't open. The trouble is, no one prays. I get up before the sun rises every morning to pray. Some would rather look at the sunrise, but that won't get you anywhere. Prayer, and serious prayer is the answer, not sunbathing...' and goes off into a spiel that I'm sure I've heard before somewhere. Probably in church. 
Finally, we're outside again. Becky is taking me back. She seems to know the whole place like the back of her hand.
'Do you have to go through all that every time you need a drink?' I ask.
'I don't. I just suck the mud.'
'Yuuech!' 
'Tony's water don't taste much better.'
'No, it didn't!' I observe.
'It used to taste better. Then he got an attitude. He won't even let me sit down in his house now. Says he gotta clean up after me. But soon his water will stop. Just watch. He'll be out sucking it out of mud like the rest of us. I seen it happen before.'
'Where do you live?' I ask.
'I don't know. I got lost right after I got here. Nice house though.'
'Furnished?'
'Houses here aren't furnished. We gotta furnish them ourselves.'
'How could it be nice then?'
'I liked the way the rooms were. Haven't seen no houses like it. I wish I could find it again. It gets cold outside at night.'
I think about her and others sleeping outside. My house has plenty of space. 
When I look at her, I cringe.
I can't blame Tony for not letting her sit on his floor. She's the last thing you'd want to have about.
And yet... shall I?
Naaaa.
Well ...
'Why don't you sleep in my house?' I blurt out.
Why did I say that?
'Can I? Really?' 
This is the first time I see anything like a smile on her face. I'm sure she was a very pretty girl once. Now I'm glad I invited her.
We finally arrive at my house. 
'Why you have a rock in your door? Afraid you can't get back in?'
I let her pick which room she wants to sleep in. I sleep in the little end room with the bay window. 
I can't see any stars. 
I try to pray.
'God! What am I doing here? What is this place? Am I in heaven or hell? I believed in You. I still believe in you. Can you still hear me from where I am now?'
Somehow, I think he can.
'Please help me sort this place out!'
I say the Our Father. 
I feel a bit better. I'm getting sleepy.


Second Day

It wasn't a dream. I'm still here in this weird place. 
I look about the house. I see muddy footprints heading out the front door.
Why anyone would worry about getting floors like this dirty is beyond me. Maybe Tony's been here too long.
Whatever. 
Anyway, Becky must be back outside digging for worms and finding wet mud to suck.
Yuuech!!
I suppose I'll have to get used to it. Sure this isn't hell?
I go into the bathroom to take a pee. No way to flush it down. It's going to stink.
I try the water again.
A trickle! Maybe half the size of Tony's. 
I taste it. It's sweet! 
I run out to find Becky.
Now Becky is in the bathroom. She thinks this is just grand. She smiles again.
After drinking her fill, she goes back out to dig worms.
I'm terribly hungry now. But I'm not ready for worms yet. 
I pray some more.
'Thank you Lord for the water. I'm beginning to believe in you more. I still don't understand this place, but at least I know I'm not in hell. But please, I need something to eat besides worms!'
I put the stopper into the bathtub drain, and turn on the water as far as it will go. I'll just leave it that way and see how full the tub gets. 
I knock about the house all day, exploring all the rooms. There are closets built into the walls in the bedrooms. There are bars for hanging clothes on -- but no clothes. 
In the kitchen, I see an empty basket on the kitchen counter. 
Funny. I didn't notice that yesterday.
There's also a broom, a dust pan, a mop and a bucket in the laundry room. There's a Belfast sink there too.
* * *
I've opened one of the pains in the upstairs bay window, and I'm sitting on the window box with my feet dangling outside. There's nothing to see. Nearby houses block what view that could be had. I doubt if there's anything but more houses anyway. But I like this room.
I look at the sky some more. It's pale blue. Last night it must have rained a bit, only enough to dampen the mud. It never rains enough for the water to collect in one place for people like Becky to drink it. 
I try again to rack my mind for who I am, and where I've been. 
I can now remember what my parents looked like, and the school I started going to when I was six. Not much more though, only isolated events here and there. I think my name might have been Jack, or Jake, or something. Jake sounds more like it.
They sort of fade out after that, and stop altogether at age 13. What was it about that age? Why do I look 13 now?
I try to remember by starting with things I know, and trying to remember how I learned them.
I think some very negative things must have happened then. It seems as though things were going along okay, and then something happened to change it all. 
* * *
The tub looks half way full. I stand there and look at it. 
Shall I take a bath?
I have an idea. Where's Becky?
I run downstairs, and out the door. I see her foot prints, and follow them. 
'Becky, come here.'
Becky comes.
I take her by the hand up the stairs and into the bathroom. 
'Get in!'
She looks at me. She can't believe what I'm saying.
'Just get in! Take a bath!'
She slowly gets in. Soon she's having a wonderful time of it. I stand there watching her as mud is coming off her body, and pink flesh is showing underneath for the first time in -- I don't know how long. Her true hair colour is showing.
She's happy. 
Finally, she gets out. 
I know this isn't life on Earth. I can truly say that Becky has a beautiful body. On Earth it might have aroused other feelings, but here, she's simply beautiful. 
She looks at me, and hugs me. 
I'm happy. Hungry, but happy. 
It's bed time. I'll have another drink. 
Now, the water is coming out twice as strong as at Tony's house.
I get down for the night, and say an Our Father, and then say some things from my own heart. I really do have a lot to be thankful for.


The Fruit

As usual, Becky's out worm hunting before I'm up. She's filled the tub for me though.
I'm sitting in the tub and thinking. 
I'm sure I lived past 13 years old. I remember people were just starting to talk about personal computers. We didn't have one. 
So why do I know so much about spreadsheets and things like open source software? 
What about surfing the Internet? That was unheard of!
So why am I in the body of a 13 year old, with a dim memory that stops short at 13?
There's no way to dry myself off. The loo flushes now. That's nice.
I walk downstairs dripping wet.
I guess it's the force of habit from my life on Earth. I wander into the kitchen looking for something to eat. I know there isn't any.
There's that basket on the counter. There's something in it.
A plum! Brilliant!
It's just at the perfect stage of ripeness, and I take a bite.
It tastes heavenly! It's better than anything I've ever eaten!
At least I know this isn't hell, because the plum tastes like heaven. 
That's not sound theology is it!
I finish eating it.
I'm not hungry any more. I wander outside to look for Becky.
I hear kids arguing around the corner. 
There's Becky, cursing out a boy. It's the same one she told me the first day was a scumbag.
He's even thinner than she is. She's shouting obscenities at him, and looks like she's about to start swinging.
There are tears in his eyes. He turns and limps away crying.
Becky is back on the ground digging frantically. She's almost as dirty as before. 
I guess she must have caught him digging in her territory.
She never notices me. I was going to ask her if she left the plum, but obviously, she hasn't seen one in years. Not the way she's going at those worms.
I turn and go quietly away.
If Becky didn't leave it, who could have brought the plum?
I walk about some more. I'm careful to keep track of where I've been, and I won't venture out of the area until I know it well. 
There's really not much to see, only more houses, and more houses. 
Where does it end?
I wonder if I could get on my roof? I could probably get a view from there.
I go back inside.
I'm not afraid of locking myself out any more. Becky says that everyone can get into their own house, but no one else can unless the owner lets them in. That means I have to let Becky in every night.
I go upstairs. 
There's a square trap door in the ceiling above where the stairs ends. If I stand on the rail, I can just reach it. There's a handle on it for pulling down.
It's a bit precarious, but I can do it. 
I'm sure I was too scared of heights at 13 to do this on Earth.
The trap door pulls downward on a spring. There's a ladder that slides down. I go up that into the loft. 
It's dark up here. 
There's a little light coming in from over there. It's an attic window. 
My dream house had attic windows. 
This house has everything that my dream house had, except furniture, carpeting, wall paper and location. I guess that's why I didn't recognise it as my dream house at first. 
The window opens. I can climb out onto the roof. 
I carefully stand up on the peak of the roof and look.
There are roofs in every direction as far as the eye can see, some steeped, some almost flat, some completely flat, some domes, some cone shaped and countless other styles. There's no horizon. It just fades out. It's as clear a day as I've ever seen. In fact, I don't think I've ever been able to see so far in any direction. Yet, the most distant parts sort of fade into blue, like the sky. 
There's not even any sign of a curve in the Earth's surface. This is obviously not Earth as I know it. It's either much bigger, or it's flat!
And this city, or whatever it is, has gotta be many times bigger than London, or New York!
Parts of the hazy horizon are brighter than others -- especially to the East. I guess it's East. The sun moves from that direction. But the West is darker.
The light of the Eastern horizon is soothing to look at. I sit for a while and take it in.
I'm getting hungry again. 
I get back in through the attic window, and down the ladder. I leave the ladder sticking down.
I'm much happier now that I know I'm not doomed to eat worms my whole life in this place.
There's another plum in the basket.
This time, I'll take it to Becky.
Becky's eyes go like saucers. She eats the plum, while uttering squeals of delight. 
And it's definitely been a long time since she had any use for table manners.
Obviously not needing to dig for worms any more, we walk back to the house. She goes up for a bath while I go into the kitchen.
Now, there's a peach in the basket - a big one!
One of the drawers is half open. There's a pairing knife in it. 
I cut myself a slice of the peach. I didn't think it was possible, but it's even better than the plum I had this morning. I didn't think peaches could grow to this size.
Becky is finished her bath and comes downstairs. I show her the peach. She's amazed.
'Want some?' I ask her.
'Let's take some to Julia,' she says.
'Who's Julia?'
'She lives down that way.'
I follow her out the door and we go in the direction opposite from the way to Tony's. A few houses down, Becky goes up the steps and knocks.
'Who is it?' comes a voice inside.
'It's me, Becky. Open up! Got some food for ya!' 
It takes a while, but then the door opens a crack. There's the most hideous face I've seen yet. I can tell she's struggling to stay on her feet.
'Oh! You've got a peach!'
The door opens wider, but she still hides behind it.
I cut her a slice and hand it to her. She eats it, relishing every bite.
'Thank you, thank you. That's the first thing I've had to eat in months!'
'Months?' I say.
'The last time someone brought be anything. Tony, wasn't it?'
'Yeah,' says Becky. 'Tony.'
'He brought me fruit every day, but he stopped coming. Doesn't get much fruit now, I hear. But why don't you take some to Sarah? She lives right opposite.'
We go across the way to the opposite door. She looks hardly better -- hides behind the door -- also talks about Tony. Before that, apparently, it was someone named Billy.
I don't know why Becky winces when Sarah mentions him.
* * *
Becky and I are back at my house sitting on the steps. 
'They never dig for worms then?' I ask.
'Never come outside. Too embarrassed to let people to see 'em nude.'
There's still a slice or two of peach left. I wonder if there's anyone else who needs some.
'Who's that kid we saw on the way to Tony's?'
'Which one?'
'You told me not to talk to him.'
'That's Billy.'
'Why don't we give him some?'
'No way!'
'Why?'
'He's a scumbag!'
'What did he do?'
'He's always dig'n in other people's holes, and he hates everyone.'
'But you won't need to dig any more -- not if we keep getting fruit like this.' 
'But this ain't my house. How do I know you'll let me stay and keep give'n me food?'
'I promise I'll feed you and let you stay as long as I have fruit.'
'But he's such a scumbag, he doesn't deserve it.'
'That could change. Besides, if he starts getting fruit, he won't dig other peoples holes then will he!'
'He'll steal your fruit.'
'I don't think he can do that. The fruit just sort of seems to pop up by itself.'
'Yeah.' That seems to bring back something Becky knew, but had forgotten. 
Finally, she says, 'Okay.'
We're off to find Billy. Becky seems to know where he'd probably be.
We turn a corner and there he is. We just stand there, watching him.
'Billy!' calls Becky, finally.
He turns around with a start. He sees there are two of us, and turns to run.
'Wait, Billy!' I call. 'I've got something for you!'
Billy turns around carefully.
I hold out a slice of peach. 
He walks up slowly. He hesitates, then quickly grabs the peach out of my hand. I think I once fed a monkey in a zoo that grabbed a peanut out of my hand that way -- as though it were afraid a trap would spring shut, or something.
He stands a short way off eating the slice of peach. 
Finally, he smiles at me and says, 'Thank you.'
Not like a zoo animal now.
Becky says, 'Billy, I don't hate you any more. Let's be friends, okay?'
'Okay,' Billy answers.
Becky suggests that he come to my place for a bath. We're walking back together.
'Who shall I give this last piece to?' I say.
'That's for you,' Billy says.
'Me?' 
'The last piece is always the best -- specially when you given the rest away.'
I take a bite. He's right! This is better -- more heavenly -- more superb -- worth a lifetime of waiting -- I mean what can I say? The first piece was better than anything I ever ate on Earth. What can I compare this one to? 
And how did Billy know it would be the best? 

 

The Jolt

Becky doesn't go out to dig any more. She usually stays at the house, except when we go to give people fruit. Billy comes around every day. Others have been coming as well.
We've been getting all sorts of fruit in the basket. The more people we feed, the more fruit we get. It's as simple as that. Some days, the basket is full of things, like grapes, apples, mangoes, once we even had a watermelon, and another time, a cantaloupe.
Becky has been getting a bit of fat on her bones. She looks like a proper girl now -- more beautiful than ever. But it's funny. Billy hasn't put on any weight at all! Nor have Julia or Sarah. They look every bit as scrawny and hideous as ever.
Most of the other kids have been looking better though. Now that they don't dig for worms, they hang out at my place. The place is really quite alive. Usually, they're milling about outside. They come in for a meal of fruit, or for a bath, and they hang about some more, or stay all day. Some of them go back to their own homes. 
Some of them now have running water as well, so this isn't the only pace they go for a drink or for a bath. 
They keep mentioning Tony. I haven't seen him since that first day when Becky took me over. Apparently, his house used to have it all, just like mine. He was generous, and everyone used to go there, but then, something happened to change it all. They say something about a 'jolt'. I'm not clear what that is exactly. 
Before, that, there was Billy. Was it the Billy that we know? I'm not really sure. Every time someone mentions it, everyone goes all quiet. Either that or our Billy quickly changes the subject. 
I'm still trying to make theological sense out of all this. It's not hell, but there are things that are obviously not heaven either. Andrew thinks it's Purgatory. He thinks he must have been a Catholic before coming here. 
I obviously wasn't, and I have trouble with the idea of Purgatory, but I can't think of any better explanation.
* * *
A pad of drawing paper has suddenly materialised in the window box upstairs. There's also a box of pastels. 
I suddenly remember I was an artist. I think I'll draw Becky. I ask her to sit against the wall with the light shining on her from the window.
She's looking beautiful now. You almost can't recognise her from when I first met her, except for some of the features that I saw at first that told me she had been beautiful at one time. That beauty has returned. 
I've got her basic shape. I've got the flesh tones in, and her hair colour. I think I'll add clothes, just for the heck of it. I'll have her wearing a white dress. 
The white pastel isn't like any pastel I've ever seen. It covers it with white as though it were a different colour than that of the paper. It even shines. 
I show her the picture. Now she's sitting there, holding it. Tears are coming out of her eyes.  
* * *
The house is full of kids. Some are standing about in the kitchen eating fruit and drinking water. Upstairs, the water is running so strong they don't even bother putting in the stopper. It's like a waterfall. There are about three of them splashing in it, and one more in the Belfast sink in the laundry room.
Someone shouts, 'Hiya Reverand Tony!'
I look, and sure enough, Tony is walking about in my living room.
'Hello, Tony,' I say.
'Hah! You won't last a week!' he says.
'Huh?' 
'I know. I've been doing this a year already. I've seen them come and go. Look how disorderly they are! They're getting the juice all over the floor. You never clean up in here do you! Don't you have a broom and a mop?'
'Er -- yes.'
'It's there for a reason. Look at the mud on your floor. And haven't you heard of queing?'
He's looking at the crowd around the kitchen sink. 
'They should take their drinks one at a time. Each one takes his fill and the others wait. Let all things be done decently and in order.'
He sees the kid in the Belfast sink. 'That's not designed for that! It's for filling the mop bucket, which you obviously never do.'
Now he's going upstairs. I know what he's going to say about the crowd there, so I'll stay here. 
Of course, I'm right.
'You won't last a week. I counted four kids in the bath tub up there. They don't even have the stopper in, and they just leave the water running. That's a waste of good water! You won't last a week, Jake. I'm warning you. I've been doing this much longer than you have, so I know.'
I'm a bit glad to see him go.
It is a bit of a circus in here. But we're having such a good time! Maybe I should try to put some controls on?
I'll wait till everyone's gone home and talk it over with Becky.
* * *
Becky says, 'You kidding? Don't you remember how awful water at his house tasted? And it was only a trickle! I bet it's stopped already. And look how strong and sweet the water comes out here! Don't let him put his attitude on you or your water will turn stale and nasty like his.'
'Hmmm. I guess you're right,' I say.
I will do a bit of cleaning though.
* * *
Everyone's gone now, except Becky, and Billy who has also been staying with me.
I thought It would be nice to see the sunset from the roof. I invite Becky and Billy up as well. 
We're sitting on the roof looking towards the sun. 
'How big is this place anyway?' I say.
'I think it just goes on forever,' says Billy.
'It can't go on for ever,' says Becky.
'But the rule of geometry is, a plane goes on for ever.'
'But the world's round. Everyone knows that.'
'Not this place.'
I add, 'You can't see any curve like you can on Earth. And there's no horizon. See how it fades out, as though it goes on way past where the curve of the Earth would be?'
Right now the sun looks like it's melting as it hits the horizon. A red haze is spreading out on both sides.
Billy says, 'I think the place grows when more people come. I think there's an edge. Sometime I'm gonna walk, and just keep walking until I find the edge, and see what it's like.'
'You'll never find your way back,' says Becky.
'I won't need to. I'll wait till Jake's fruit runs out before I go.'
'My fruit runs out?' I ask. 'What the heck are you talking about?'
'Oh -- your fruit will run out sometime. I seen it happen over and over. You're not the first one to go all generous on us. It happens when you first get here. Then you're as old -- maybe a bit younger than your first jolt in life. You're still sweet and innocent like you were -- usually when you were a kid. That's why everyone here's a kid. When you get here, you're all goody-goody and giving...'
'I wasn't,' interrupts Becky.
'Yeah, some kids come with other hang-ups. Some died as kids. Some had rotten childhoods and never learned to love. I know all that stuff. I used to preach on inner heal'n I did. I got good at it -- I mean heal'n of memories, I'd make kids remember what they were in their life, and get them healed of it.'
Right now, the last bit of the sun is fading out right above where the horizon ought to be. There's now more light behind us than on the Western horizon.
'Yeah! I had my day in the sun, just like you're have'n now. Like Tony had, and Adrian. But just you wait. You'll get your jolt, and before you know it, you'll be fight'n Becky here for worms. Then I'll go off to find the edge of the world.'
I'm stunned. Becky has turned around to look at the light on the Eastern horizon, which lights up the night almost the same way the full moon used to on Earth. She's just sitting there with her chin in her hands. 
I'm still looking at the last bit of sunset. The only thing left of the sun is a long strip of bright red haze on the horizon.
Billy's still talking away. 'You'll be go'n along just happy like a bird. Then suddenly one day, there it is -- some memory, some face -- it'll be sit'n there staring at you. You'll suddenly remember why life isn't all it's stacked up to be.'
Finally, I say, 'What sort of jolt did you get?'
'I remembered why I hate niggers. Niggers and Jews. Niggers started come'n to my house, and I just won't have that. They're sub-human!'
'Why! You're a racist!' 
'Nazi, to be precise. Aryan Nations. Card carry-n member.' He talks like he's proud of it.
My blood is starting to boil.
He's still going on: 'My Earth body had a swastika tattooed right there.' He points to his shoulder.
'I thought only Christians came here!'
'I am a Christian. I believe in Jesus. But he wasn't no freak'n Jew. And I was a better Christian than most folks, 'cause I stayed true to my race!'
'You - bloody - freak'n ...' I can't even think of word bad enough. 
'Ha! Ha!' he jeers. 'There you go! You've discovered your hang-up! You can't love racists for the worth of you, even though the Bible says you have to!'
He's right. I can't stand Nazis. I now remember violent arguments I had with white supremacists in my early days. When I got older, I learned to stay out of arguments, and settled for giving them the silent treatment. Their opinions don't even merit an answer, so I just treated them as though they didn't exist. 
I should order him out of my house. In fact, I'll throw him off the roof!
But he's already shinnying down the waterspout.
'I told you he was a scumbag,' says Becky.
Now he's off in the direction of the sun set.
'Don't you darken my door again!' I yell after him.
'Don't worry, I won't,' I can hear him say.

 

The Trip

It's happening like Billy said. It's only a pity it had to happen so soon.
Now I think he's a scumbag for telling me all that and making it happen so quick. Becky told me that Tony lasted much longer than me -- almost a year -- and Billy lasted several months. 
Me? Two weeks, maybe. What makes it worse is, Tony was right. Next he'll be back just to say, 'Told you so!'
The water's already tasting terrible, and it's down to a trickle, like when I tried it at Tony's. There's now only one or two pieces of fruit in the basket a day now. 
Becky is still here. She still takes fruit to Julia and Sarah. I think now, the fruit is still appearing for her sake. 
I'm sitting cross-legged on the window box with my nose practically against the glass in my cosy upstairs room.
I wonder what worms taste like?
'Jake,' Becky is at the window with me.
Dang! I forgot to shut the door.
'What?'
'You know, when I took you to find Billy...'
'Don't talk to me about Billy.'
Why is she in my special room? I should make it off limits.
'But listen ta me. When we went to find Billy, even after you talked to me, I still wanted to haul into him and rub his face in the dirt...'
'You should have.'
'If I did, I would have gone back to being like him. Then I would have leached off you until your jolt came, and never put on any weight, and then gone back to digging worms like before.'
'So, that's what we're going to do then, isn't it!'
'No we won't. I'll bet ya anything I can get running water and fruit in my place now. I'll go look'n for it and you can come and live with me.' 
'You don't think he's a scumbag then?'
'He is, but when I stood there looking at him, I knew I had to make a choice. I had to forgive, even if every ounce of me wanted to kill him. I remembered Jesus, the one who sent us here, the one I learned about in the neighbourhood kid's club on Earth -- He told us to forgive. He forgave us, even when we done Him even dirtier than the Nazis did.'
I'm listening.
'So, I forgave him. I mean -- he's still got an attitude. Sit'n on that roof the other day, I sort of wanted to throw him off, like you did. But look'n at the light off where the sun comes up -- you know -- I couldn't hate him. Then I looked at that picture you drew of me, and -- well -- I saw Jesus. His eyes were there instead of mine. I know those eyes must never hate anyone.'
I don't say anything. 
She goes quietly away. 
She's right. 
But forgiving Billy is the last thing I want to do. 
I can see it as though it happened yesterday.
I was sitting in the school canteen having a chat with my friend, Donald. He's a black, and we're just sitting there talking. In come these white kids. I know they're part of the local chapter of this Nazi group. They come right up to Donald, grab him and begin beating on him. I stand up to try to fend them off, and then they turn on me.
'You're a traitor to your race,' says Buz, their leader.
Donald is on the floor now, and Will Helm is kicking him in the head.
I thought of a good answer much later. I should have said, 'No, I haven't betrayed the human race! You have!' I just wasn't so witty in those days. 
I get slugged a few times, but as soon as I see my chance I make a run for it. They beat Donald senseless. He ends up in the hospital. I visit him, but he dies a few days later. I feel as though I've let him down. I hate Nazis after that. Absolutely hate them. Hate them for what they did to Donald -- hate them for making me scared and run -- hate them for torturing so many people just because of the colour of their skin -- hate them for murdering six million Jews! Hate them! Hate them! HATE THEM!
Now Becky is saying I have to forgive them. They did Jesus worse. We did Jesus worse, and He forgave us. 
So I have to forgive racists.
Alright, I forgive racists. I forgive Billy. I forgive Buz! I forgive Will Helm! I forgive them! I FORGIVE THEM! I FORGIVE BILLY!
'I forgive!' I shout. 'I FORGIVE I FORGIVE I FORGIVE!'
I feel better.
* * *
Already the peaches are more plump and fresh. Kids are starting to come back again. 
Becky and I still wonder about Billy.
* * *
We're visiting Julia again. Becky thinks I should draw her, so I brought my pad and box of pastels.
Julia's still hiding behind the door, and she's finished the apple that we brought her.
I say, 'Stand there, like that, Julia. I'm going to draw your portrait.'
'No! Please -- I'm too ugly!'
'No you're not. I can see where you used to be beautiful. I'm going to draw that.'
'Oh no -- there's nothing beautiful about me!'
Becky says, 'Yes there is! I thought there was nothing beautiful about me until he drew my picture.'
I say, 'I'll give it to you when I've finished. You can destroy it if you want. I just want to draw it. Please?'
'Okay,' she says finally. 'But I'm not showing you my body.'
'Just your face is enough.'
I start drawing. I got the shape of her face, only a little more plump. Her right shoulder and arm are there to see, holding on to the door, and part of her right side are enough to get an idea. I'll cover it with a white dress, though. I've seen her right foot a time or two, and sometimes, she's shown more than she intended to. That's okay, because we don't see things as we did on Earth. Certainly not like she thinks we see her. 
There's just enough of her natural live skin colour to give me an idea. I'll make her whole face and arms that colour -- not the bluish green that most of her is now. 
She really is a beautiful person. Maybe she'll start looking it some time. The fruit doesn't seem to be doing much for her though. If only we could get her to come out and use our bath tub.  
I've finished. I tear off the sheet and give it to her.
She looks at it. 
She takes it. All she can say is 'Oh! -- Oh! ...' She's crying. 
We say goodbye, but she just saying 'Oh! -- Oh! -- Oh!' 
We walk down the steps, and the door closes slowly behind us. 
* * *
Sarah isn't ready to have her portrait drawn yet. 
* * *
I'm in my cosy room with the bay window. Something tells me to open the window box. There are two back packs and two long walking sticks. I show them to Becky.
'Means we're go'n on a trip,' she says.
'Where?'
'To find Billy, I guess.'
'How will we find him?'
'Straight West. Won't go far. He be stopping to dig for worms all the way.'
'How do you know he's gone West?'
'He can't stand the light from the East. I couldn't either, before.'
* * *
Julia's looking better already. Last night, she even left her house and went over to Sarah's. They used to talk through their open windows. 
She's even got a trickle of water coming out her taps now. 
Now I feel better about leaving them. I don't know how long it'll take to find Billy. In one of the backpacks there's a tent, so I guess that means we'll be gone a night or two.
* * *
We're off. We're each wearing a backpack, and holding a walking stick. We go straight West.
There's lots of kids on the way, digging for worms, sucking mud. Sometimes we feel like stopping and handing out fruit. There's always fruit in our backpacks when we need it. 
That last bunch of kids we saw, we weren't sure though. Becky looked at me funny. We walked on a bit and stopped. We looked in our backpacks, and sure enough -- no fruit. I think they weren't ready for it yet. 
The houses are really something. Looking at them, I don't miss the natural landscapes we had on Earth.  Everyone's different. Some are like old castles, some with Greek columns, a couple look like Chinese palaces. 
I think everyone gets their dream house when they get here. At least mine is exactly what I would have chosen on Earth. Becky says hers was too.
* * *
The kids in different places seem to be different ages. Here, it looks as though they're all in their teens. Earlier, they all looked like they were seven or eight. There doesn't seem to be much difference in their state though. Most of them are digging for worms, and look like goblins, like the kids in our neighbourhood.
Now, I see a real tiny kid up ahead. He must be four. He doesn't look so bad, though. He's smiling at us. We smile back.
'Where ya go'n?' he asks.
Becky says, 'Off West to look for our friend.'
'Shouldn'cha go that way?' He points East.
'Our friend went that way.'
'Oh!' He looks confused.
We keep walking. 
There are more toddlers. All of them look like they're in good shape.
There's a grown-up up ahead. We've only seen a few grown folks here before, but none that were dressed, like this one is. It's a woman.
She sees us coming and smiles. It's such a beautiful smile.
'Where are you going?' she asks.
'We're looking for a friend,' I say. 
Becky asks her, 'Did you see a boy with straight blond hair come'n through here? He's real thin and dirty.'
'Yes, I did see your friend,' she says. 'He went West, but you should be going East.'
'But how will we find him if we go East?' I ask.
'If you followed him West, you'd find him quite quickly, but you wouldn't be of any help to him. You need the light of the East before you can help him.'
'What's in the East?' asks Becky.
'The gates of the City. You won't be able to go in --  unless you're dressed like me. I dare say you won't even be able to get very close, as you won't be able to stand the light. But go as far as you can. Receive the light, and eat what fruit you find there. Once you've gone as far as you absolutely can, then turn back and look for your friend. He may be all the way to the edge by then, so you have no time to waste. Set up your tent here, and leave first thing tomorrow morning.'
I just noticed she's dressed exactly as I drew Becky and Julia. The same style exactly! And it's a brilliant white, like my white pastel. 
'You have the gift of drawing,' she says to me. 'You will help many people.'
She just read my thoughts!
Becky says, 'Why are all the kids here so healthy -- and so young!'
'These children had their jolt very early in life. Some of them were abandoned as babies, and a few of them died very young. See that little girl behind you?'
I look. There's a black girl who looks as though she's three years old.
'She saw both of her parents killed in an ethnic cleansing campaign, and then died of starvation a week later. They're too small to be left alone in the suburb, so I and some of the others come out every day to care for them. But now it's getting late. It's time for their bed-time story.'
She turns around.
'Children!' she yells. She's walking away from us.
Kids come from every direction. Suddenly, she turns to us again.
'You two can come and listen too, if you want. There's a good place to pitch your tent.'
We follow her. 
Just around the corner, there's something I've never seen here before -- grass! There's a playground, with swings, see-saws, climbing frame, everything!
She sits down on a park bench and all the children -- I think there must be a hundred -- all crowd around. We sit on the grass at the edge of the crowd. I've never felt grass so soft.
She's telling the story of the rich man and Lazarus. But she's telling it a bit different than I ever heard it. She calls him 'Lazar' (Like 'Lazar Wolf' from The Fiddler on the Roof), and says that Abraham -- she says 'Avraham', as though he were Jewish or something -- took Lazar to the edge over in the West -- where we're going to look for Billy -- and they looked down on the rich man from there!
Now she's kissing each one 'good night', and giving them something. I can't see -- It's a glass of milk and a biscuit! Now all the kids are off to their houses with a glass of milk and a biscuit each. 
This is rich!
* * *
The tent goes up easily. And it's warm inside!
There's a couple of blankets and pillows already inside the tent when we get in.

 

Eastward

I have lots more questions, but we can't find the woman anywhere. I guess there's nothing for it but to head East.
We pack up the tent and I put it in my back pack. There's a fig in each of our back packs.
We're off -- but someone's calling us.
It's the woman. There's a little boy with her. I think he's eight. He's black.
'Donald wants to go with you.'
The boy was wearing a backpack and is holding a walking staff like ours. 
He's looking at me funny.
'Jake? Is that you?'
'Yeah,' I say. 'I'm Jake.' How does he know my name?
'Remember me? I'm Donald! We went to school together!'
It doesn't seem funny any more - I mean talking to an eight-year-old as though we went to school together. But now I recognise him.
'DONALD!'
We're in each other's arms, crying.
'Jake, I've just got to go with you on this one.' 
So we're on our way.
'How come you're so young here?' I ask.
'We black folks get our jolts a lot sooner in life than you whites.' He sounds just like the Donald I used to know. But he said this without it sounding like self pity. 'As soon as we go anywhere outside the Black community, we notice it. Even at eight years old, I felt it, and it hurt. There's lots of us here in that state.'
'But you died -- like -- how many years ago?'
'I don't remember dying yet -- well I think I sort of remember now, you were the last friendly face I saw before I blacked out for the last time. You were there for me, man, and here you are now. That's help'n some of the other memories come back.' 
'I think you were, like 14.'
'It's took me all this time to get healed from my first jolt. I've ate so many maggots, earthworms, slugs, why, I almost mistake them for my mama's cook'n!
Becky says, 'But the kids in this neighbourhood, I don't see any of them out digging.' 
'I'm actually from across the way. They're a bit older there -- and less responsive. Once we get over it we like the milk and biccies over here though, so we're always come'n over.' 
Now we're talking a lot about old times. Bits and pieces from the last few years are coming back to him. Even then, there's a lot to talk about because we were together from early primary.
 I have full memory up to my fourteenth birthday now. I wish I'd had him there to celebrate it. 
'I sure would have liked to have known you better on Earth,' I say.
'You never would have. I had an attitude.'
'Yeah, you did, sort of. But it wasn't that bad when you were 9.'
'I remember it got worse.'
'But it made me want to do more for the Black community,' I say.
'Yeah -- you tried too hard to please. People like me pushed you to it. It didn't do you any good though. I mean, you actually hated racists more than you loved Blacks.'
'Huh?'
'That's right. You hated racism more than you loved the victims of it, and that ain't the way to peace.'
I'm sure that's not true. That was very insensitive of him to say that. I'm sure he still has an attitude.
Donald's looking at me.
'Jake,' he says, 'look at where the sun's coming up. Don't say anything. Just look at the light. You're having another jolt.'
I don't want to look -- but I look anyway.
I know he's right. I look some more.
He hands me an orange. 'Here, have this. You could use it.'
Then he says, 'What I said about your love for the Blacks, I meant the Black community in general. But you loved me like a true friend. That was different. That's the kind of love that would have helped me, if anything did. We didn't really need all the people march'n and demonstrations for us like we thought we did. We needed the true friendship, like you gave me, but I don't think either of us saw the real value of that then.'
We walk on in silence. The orange is good. The more I let it sink in, the better it tastes.
'You're right,' I say. 'I have been motivated by hate, and not love.' I feel like crying. I hope I don't look it.
Becky comes and puts her arms around me. Donald's got my hand. 
I guess I'm not so good at hiding it.
Donald's saying, 'It's okay, Jake. I only know that 'cause I had it worse than you. I mean -- I couldn't, for the worth of me, believe that a white man could have no prejudice.' 
* * *
We've been walking all day retracing our steps. We're back at my place. We'll spend the night there and head off again first thing tomorrow morning.
Becky wants to pop out to see Julia. I'll go with her.
Julia's changed a lot in a few days. She's still very thin, but all her colour's returned, and she walks about with no trouble at all. She lets us in now. She got over her embarrassment about her body -- mostly, anyway. She still opened the door slowly, and stuck her head out first before letting us in. But she's happy.
'Did you find Billy then?' she asks.
'No,' Becky says. 'We have to go get some light from the East first.'
'Oh! Can I come?' Julia says. 'I've been thinking about that light since the other day when I was looking at it from the upstairs window. I couldn't look at it before, but suddenly I feel like I want to go to it. Then, this morning, I found a backpack and a walking stick in a box upstairs.'
'Cool! That means you're supposed to come with us!' says Becky.
'I'll have to run over and tell Sarah though. I think I'll ask David to bring her fruit while I'm gone.'
So that settles it. Julia's coming with us.  
* * *
I just looked in the mirror. I look 15 already! My voice is starting to crack.
I can also remember my 15th birthday. I also remember being in a few demonstrations in support of racial issues, and there was one face off between a group of us and a bunch of Neo-Nazis that year. 
Donald is right. I did hate them more than I loved the people we said we were supporting.
* * *
We're on the road again.  
Well, okay -- we're on the muddy bits between houses again.
Our walking sticks are handy for getting over holes kids have been digging for worms. There's lots of kids doing it. I wish we could do something for them all. All we can do is stop and hand out some fruit sometimes whenever we think it'll do them good. 
* * *
No grassy playgrounds to camp on this time. We did find an extra wide spot between a couple of houses though. Julia found a tent in her backpack, so the girls are in one tent, the boys in another.
* * *
Another day of walking. We're now seeing fewer kids digging for worms. We're setting up camp again.
Wait -- here comes an older bloke who looks like he's in good shape.
'Hi y'all. Why don't you come and stay at my place?'
Brilliant! The ground was bumpy last night.
We introduce ourselves. His name is Jimmy.
He’s leading us to his house -- around the corner -- there it is. It's a white wooden house with a big veranda, like a Georgia plantation house, complete with a swing on the veranda. 
There's a bucket sitting on the veranda in front of the swing. 
Jimmy opens the door for us. Donald is the first one up the steps, but Jimmy stops him, sets him down on the swing, and washes his feet. He wipes them off with a towel.
Then he washes Julia's feet, then Becky's.
I hear Donald, inside, saying, 'Cool! Where did you get the carpet?'
'Carpet?' say Julia and Becky together.
'Carpet?' I say.
He finishes washing my feet, and I go in and look.
This is the richest carpet I've ever seen. I'm sure I'll sleep really well on this. I wish we could stay a few days. 
'Sit down y'all. I'll get ya something to eat.'
We all sit down. 
He's also got wallpaper, and a couple of pictures. We're all just looking all around at everything.
Jimmy yells, 'How many for tea, how many coffee, how many hot chocolate?'
I remember now that I used to like coffee. I take coffee. Donald liked coffee too, but he thinks his present body might not be old enough, so he asks for hot chocolate. Julia and Becky both take tea.
'I don't know about you, but I haven't had any hot drinks since coming here,' says Donald. 
We all agree.
Jimmy comes out with a huge tray and sets it down on the floor.
I think we're all aching to ask him how his house got so much stuff, but he's so busy asking us where we're from and where we're going. He's really interested, so we're telling him everything that's happened, all about Billy and how Donald and I met up. He just pulls it out of us. We're enjoying this.
Finally there's a pause.
Becky asks, 'How did you get all this cool stuff, like carpets and all that?' 
I had almost forgot about that.
'You know how this place is,' he starts in, 'When you give what you have, you get more and better. On Earth, I used to take people in a lot. Now and again, people would walk all over me. My pastor and others in the church said I was overdoing it, and when I finally got burned out, I began listening to them. I even started thinking it was normal to look out for "number one". Anyway, when I got here, that was one of my hangups. It was only when I started proving that I wouldn't let people put me off -- and they sure try, I'm telling you, like staying for weeks, and then leaving with out telling me, and making a mess -- it was only when I proved that I could let everything go and see the people, no matter who they are, as more important than what has to be kept clean and maintained, that I started getting things like carpet and wallpaper.'
I think about how Tony went on about keeping the place clean. 
But Becky says it first: 'I imagine us worm diggers can make a mess!'
'That was a real issue for a while,' he says. 'Although there aren't as many people going hungry enough for worms now as there used to be here.'
Donald says, 'I guess the foot washing helps, huh?'
'Yeah. That represents a major change for me. I knew that washing their feet was the only way I was going to keep the carpet clean, but I didn't know about my true attitude towards them until I actually got down to doing it. Like, I used to think -- sort of deep down in the subconscious, that I was better than the worm diggers. That was a healing experience for me, and for some of them. After that, the carpet started growing into a richer colour, and thicker.'
We're admiring it. I've never seen such a rich carpet as this.
'I used to have the recipe backwards. What you need is a cup full of generosity, and add to that, a pinch of wisdom. I used to mix in a whole cup of "wisdom" for every small pinch of generosity.'
I suddenly have the urge to draw his portrait. I take out my pad and pastels. I'm sitting against one wall, while Donald, Julia and Becky are against the other. Jimmy's sitting facing their direction, so he doesn't notice what I'm doing.
Becky notices. She pops a grin.
I've got a side view of him, but that's what I want. I'm going to draw him with the bucket, washing someone's feet.
We keep talking, as I draw.
I got his shape. As usual, I'll do him with a white robe.
He'll be holding the foot in a towel, like he's drying it off -- wait -- I'll do something with the foot.
The foot has a big red nail print in it.
Finished. I show it to him. 
He's looking at it. I think he's going to cry. 
* * *
We've been talking a long time now, and we start getting sleepy. Jimmy shows us to some rooms upstairs. Donald and I share a room. There are giant cushions there. I'm lying down on one, thinking this is the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in.

 

Aaron

We're on the road again. People seem better off around here. It's been a long time since we saw anyone digging for worms. There are no holes, and the space between the houses is less muddy.
* * *
Another night in the tents.
* * *
I'm noticing more grown up people and fewer kids. Every now and then we meet someone dressed in white, like the lady at the playground. They all smile or greet us.
* * *
A road! I didn't know they had any here. 
But not all the houses are on the road though. There's a bunch on this side, and a bunch on that, with only the ones joining the road standing in a straight row with their front doors facing the same direction. There's enough space between some of them for the people behind the houses to get to the road.
Now I see it dead ends up ahead. Beyond that is just a jungle of houses, like before.
Wait -- we can see around some of the houses, and there's another road that starts near where this one ends, as though two neighbourhoods couldn't settle on where to have the highway going through both of their communities. 
I see someone coming around a house from that road to this one. I'll ask him why this is.
'Sir, why don't these two roads join?'
He looks at us. 'This must be your first time this way?'
'Yes.'
'When enough people begin finding their functions in their community, their houses arrange themselves in relation to each other, according to their function. You see in this neighbourhood, some of the residents have found their function, and some in that neighbourhood have as well. Everyone grows at their own rate. Once everyone has found themselves, the roads will all be joined.'
'But can't they get together and plan the road?' asks Donald.
'The Planner is Jesus. The plan is already laid down. But it only takes shape when we find ourselves in Him. In each community, our first priority is to Him, and to those around us. Once we have that in place, we're in a better position to link with the neighbouring communities.'
He's about to go, but suddenly, he looks at us again.
'It's late, you look like you've been travelling. Have you a place to stay?'
'Only our tents,' says Julia.
'Go to that road there and wait for me. I have to go and get some goods from the grocers down in this community. Our community doesn't have a grocers yet.'
Just then, I notice that one of the houses has boxes of fruit and vegetables sitting in the front.
So, we pick our way through to the other road and wait. There are a few shops. I wonder what they use for currency?
He's back in two ticks. He's a bit older than Jimmy. He tells us his name is Laurence. 
Coming off a nice road, I guess there's no need for a foot wash. He lets us in. 
We're all blown away. Not only is there carpet, but there's a living room suite. 
There's a bloke sitting in the settee. He stands up to greet us. I notice he's wearing one of those little caps that Jewish people wear. Also, the hair next to his ears is long, and comes down in curls. He's got a thin beard.
'This is Aaron,' says Laurence. 'He's also staying the night. Aaron, this is Becky, Julia, Donald and Jake. I think they're going in the same direction as you.'
We sit down. Laurence goes into the other room.
The carpet is nice. Maybe not quite as nice as Jimmy's, but Laurence also has furniture. 
I think Aaron must be 18 or so. His beard looks just thick enough for it. He's asking us about where we've been and all. We tell him about Billy, about how he said something that gave me my first jolt, and how we're now trying to find him.
'Just out of curiosity, what was it that he said?' says Aaron.
We all look at each other.
'You've had you're healing from it by now, I'm sure.'
It's not that. How can we tell this obviously Jewish bloke that Billy, the one we're looking for, is a Nazi? We might give him a jolt.
'Er -- well...'
'...well...' says Donald.
'He's ...' says Julia
Becky blurts out, 'He's a Nazi.'
He raises his eyebrows. 'Hmmm! This gets more interesting by the minute. Now I'm sure I know why I've come on this trip -- that's, if it's okay with you if I join you.'
We say it's okay.
This will be interesting -- the group of us, including a Black and a Jew, off to rescue a Nazi kid!
Laurence calls us into the other room for supper.
Wow! A full dining room suite! It's set with chinaware and everything! I wonder if Becky remembers how to hold a fork?
On the table is salad, bottles of salad dressing, pita bread and different kinds of cheese. There's what looks like a bottle of red wine and a bottle of white. There are wine glasses at each place.
We all sit down.
Julia speaks up. 'I didn't know there were Jewish people here.'
'Messianic Jewish, probably,' I say.
'Yes,' Aaron says. 'Many of the Jewish people here were Messianic on Earth. Many of them have gone through into the City. But some of us just lived our lives on Earth according to what we knew, kept the Torah out of the fear of the Holy One, and demonstrated by our response to Him that, had we heard of Messiah in an unmistakable way, we would have accepted him as such. There are other ethnic groups here also who never heard the message of Messiah in their lifetimes in any verbal form, but responded to revelations into the nature of  God they received in other ways, even if the Name of God and His Messiah wasn't included in that revelation. I believe the B'rit Hadasha book of Romans, chapter 2 refers to such. We're all deeply thankful for His mercy.'
'The brit - what?'
'I'm sorry - the New Testament. The Suburb was originally planned for them, unfortunately, the majority of Western Christians from the late 20th century have ended up here as well.'
'Huh?'
'Oh, yes. The message of Messiah, the command to repent, believe and embrace the life of Messiah was meant to transform lives more than it appears to have done. Unfortunately, in some countries the life of the average Christian is no different than that of the average non believer. That's why so many of us in the Jewish community have failed to recognise the Christian "Jesus" as our Messiah. According to Rabbi Paul, the gentile believers were supposed to drive the Jews to jealousy by demonstrating how the Jewish Messiah transformed their lives. That just hasn't happened.'
Now it's beginning to make sense. 'I was wondering about that,' I say. 'I was always taught that when we've accepted Jesus -- or is it "Yeshua" -- you go to heaven when you die, where everything's nice, and there's no more sadness and all that.'
Becky says, 'Yeah, like the lady at the Bible club said, "Receive Jesus into your heart", and she said, "Now you're a Christian, and you'll go to heaven".'
'I became a Christian because I was afraid of going to hell,' says Julia. 'After the first few days here, I thought it didn't work, and that I did go to hell.'
Aaron says, 'Technically it did work. It kept you out of hell, and your Bible club teacher did do her best according to what she knew. Many like her went straight through the gates and are even sitting on thrones. But that wasn't how the message was meant to be proclaimed. Yeshua's line was, "If you want to be my disciple, take up your cross and follow me." The object of evangelism isn't to keep people out of hell, but to build the Church. A strong church with true disciples, like what exists in China and other places, will, in the long run, keep more people out of hell than the easy salvation message of the Western church.'
'There's a high proportion of Chinese inside the City,' Laurence says.
'So, we didn't make it to heaven then?' I say.
'You could say this is heaven,' says Laurence. 'But if you mean the City, you'll get there eventually. Just keep on receiving the light, responding to it, and eating the fruit. Help those in your own community to catch it as well. You'll get there.'
The food is delicious. 
Laurence shows us to our rooms. This time there are proper beds. 

 

The Light

On the road again. Now Aaron is with us. I wonder how many we'll be before it's all over?
All morning we've been going down streets through different communities, and then looking for where the next streets begin. Aaron has been this way a few times, so he remembers quite a few of the streets. Some of them are new though, and sometimes communities shift about. 
Now, we seem to hit more places where the roads line up. Some of these ones have more than one street. One we passed just now had a grass commons in the middle, and even a few trees.
Aaron knows of a place to stop. 'Linda lives in this community. She has a sun roof, which is good place from which to look at the light from the city. That would be the reason you were sent in this direction. Every night, we'll try to stop at a home that has a sun roof. There are also gardens further towards the gates for that purpose. We'll just keep doing that until we either reach the City gate, or you've reached your limit. I think you'll have reached your limit well before the gates if this is your first trip.'
We stop at Linda's. She is very kind, serves up a very sumptuous meal, and says that fruit and tea will be served on the roof. We're up there now sitting on garden furniture.
 It's a sweet feeling -- a bit like seeing the Eastern horizon from the roof of my house, but more intense. 
We also watch the sun set on the other side of us. Again, it sort of melts into the horizon and leaves a red haze spreading across the whole West. 
* * *
Aaron wakes me up.
'Come up to the roof and watch the sunrise. That's an experience you shouldn't miss.
We go up stairs. 
This is so cool! The light from the City sort of gathers itself up into a ball and goes up into the air
'The sun here isn't really a normal star at all, is it!' says Becky.
'It is a star,' says Linda. 'The name of it is "Mercy". It's new every morning.'
Watching the light gather itself up and rise, gives such a feeling of joy. 
* * *
Every night we stop at a new house and look at the light in the evening, and again the next morning. Each time is a different experience. Aaron says that depends on the gift of the house owner . 
Sometimes the neighbours also join us. Having a sunroof is their function in their community, apparently.
Sometimes I draw a portrait of the host.
The communities we pass through are much more beautifully laid out. We don't have to look around for the road into the next community any more. They fit perfectly so that sometimes it's hard to tell when we've crossed over, but I haven't seen any two communities alike.
* * *
We're on another roof now. This house belongs to Yakov. He seems a bit more blunt than most people we've met. He talks a lot about getting our act together, and getting down to business.
'Don't just come back and keep receiving,' he says. 'Make sure you apply what you know. Be a doer and not just a hearer. Otherwise, you're only kidding yourself.'
 The light from his roof is more like a burning fire. It reminds me more of that verse in the Bible, 'Our God is a consuming fire.' It makes us want to bow down and worship.
Julia is flat on her face on the floor. So is Becky. Donald is just looking with tears in his eyes.
Suddenly, memories are flashing through my mind. I'm thinking about our youth group at church. We really love our youth pastor, Sam. He's the easygoing type. Whenever we say anything about how someone seems to go over the top with the way they act with their girl friend or boy friend, or if they slip up, he always quotes the verse from the Bible, 'Judge not, and you won't be judged.' He makes us feel good about ourselves even when we know we've blown it. 
And then, one day, we have a youth night in the church basement. We've all paired up with our girlfriends and boyfriends, and Sam's got a girlfriend as well. There's Christian rock playing on the stereo system, and we're dancing. The room is dimly lit. One of the newer kids in the group is in a corner with her boyfriend, whom she invited. I notice they're under a blanket, and they're actually 'doing it'. I quietly mention it to Sam, who's sitting there with his girlfriend on his knee. 
'Don't judge,' he says. 'This is a chance to get him into church where he can get saved.'
At the next Friday night Bible study, he teaches on not being 'under the law, but under grace'. It's all about being free to do your own thing, and not under so many restrictions. He compares the conservative attitude of the older church people to the Pharisees.
One time he hands out contraceptives! The teaching that night is about grace and 'safe sex'.
At the next youth night, I see him under a blanket with a chick. So, what can I say? That's also the night I lost my virginity. 
The next Sunday morning, he's worshipping the Lord with his hands in the air, looking as though he's really in the Spirit. I do the same. I remember thinking it's so cool to be a Christian.
But now, with the fire shining on me, it's as though I were suddenly seeing it from God's point of view. What an abomination! How could I have been so ignorant? I’m sure I don’t even deserve to be here, let alone heaven! 
I’m crying my eyes out.
A part of me is saying it's Sam's fault. I've got to lighten up.
I look at the light again.
No, I can't blame Sam for anything. I've sinned. I just can't deny it while that light's shining through me like that.
Aaron is putting his hands on my back. 'Just confess it to Him,' he says. 
I'm confessing my sins. 
The others are also confessing different things. Yakov is also going about praying for us one by one.
* * * 
Yakov says we should confess our sins to each other as well, so we're sitting around doing that. 
I tell them about how I blew it sexually in my youth group. 
Yakov suddenly looks very sympathetic. 'That was also where I fell. I treated God's grace like something that would get me to heaven in spite of my sinful life. I didn't realise that God's grace isn't just for forgiveness (when we repent) but it's also there to help us overcome. It says, they overcame the tempter by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and willingly faced death rather than give in.'
Now it's Becky's turn. She says to me, 'Jake, all this time, I've been see'n you as my ticket to the good life. I've been see'n everyone like that. The ones I keep as friends are the ones I know I might get something from if I'm good to 'em, and the ones who aren't any use to me, I just dump -- like Reverand Tony's right. I'm nothing but a leach. But people on this trip, like Jimmy - why should he care about people, like worm diggers and all, to wash their feet? Like, what can he get from them? And like Yakov here, and why would Aaron want to help Billy? And - oh Jake!' 
She's in my arms, crying.
I think I've been like that too - a bit. 
I'm crying too.
* * *
After that experience at Yakov's house, I feel so much cleaner inside. I think I've grown another year in my life.
The star is still named 'Mercy', they say. But sometimes it's a severe mercy and sometimes more pleasant, but either way, it's still God's mercy.
This also reminds me of what Aaron was saying about there not being much difference between Western Christians and the world. 

 

The Garden 

Each sunroof experience is different. It gets more and more intense each time. Some are like the experience at Yakov's, and others, more pleasant, where we experience God's kindness and sweetness. Aaron says that's because each roof grabs a different aspect of God's mercy.
I think I've reached my limit for how intense I can take it. Even seeing the sky from the ground here is almost too much. The others think so too. Aaron says that's okay, we're almost there.
Almost where? I wonder.
We get to the end of one particularly well laid out community, and the next one over isn't a community at all, but a huge park. All the houses on this side of the neighbourhood we just passed face the park. There are lots of trees, most of them with different kinds of fruit. There are small hills and rocks that look fun to climb, as well as a waterfall. In the middle is a higher hill with what looks like a castle tower on it. I also see people walking about, and there are tents pitched here and there.
Aaron looks at us and says, 'Here's where we'll stop.'
This is the coolest place we've ever seen. I would have thought this was heaven, had I not known we still weren't through the City gates yet.
Aaron says, 'Between here and the City gates are several gardens like this. They serve the same function as the sunroofs. I'm going on to another park closer to the gate. I'll be back in a few days.'
Then he points to the old castle tower. 'After you have become a bit more accustom to this place, climb up the stairs inside that tower and view the sunrise from the top. You probably can't do it now, though. Eat as much of the fruit here as you can. That will give you energy to absorb more light. On your next trip here, I'm sure you'll be able to travel on to the next garden.'
He's off, and we're having a heavenly time.
We walk about enjoying the place, trying the fruit from the different trees. The sun from different parts of the park hit us differently. After exploring the whole place we take a dip in the waterfall. 
A lot of people just sleep under the stars, so we decide not to bother with the tent.
* * *
The sunrise is wonderful. It's filtered through the trees, so I'm sure it'll be more intense from the top of the tower. Right now it's making me feel like I'm loved.
We go for some fruit and we climb on some of the rocks around the waterfall. 
Becky and Julia are sitting on one of the rocks. I tell Donald to get up there with them, and I run to fetch my pad and pastels out of my backpack. I'm going to draw a group picture of them with the waterfall in the background. 
* * *
I draw more pictures. Usually, I draw people with their white robes on, but here, sometimes I just do them as they are in the natural setting. 
The human body is beautiful in a  way we could rarely appreciate on Earth. At least, all I could ever think about there was sex, so I missed the real beauty. 
I want to take a bit of this place back with me. I also get the castle tower on the hill. Another one is the three of them splashing wildly in the pool under the waterfall. 
Now that I think of it, I remember seeing a picture of this castle tower on the wall of one of the places we stayed.
Other people here also ask me to draw them too, so I'm getting lots of practice. I couldn't ask for a better setting.
* * *
Becky comes to me.
'Jake?'
'Yeah?'
'I haven't thanked you for anything yet.'
'Like what?'
'Like - everything!'
She grabs me and hugs me around the neck. 'Thank you Jake.'
* * *
We're sitting about under a plum tree relaxing after having some fruit. A group of people are walking along towards us. Most of them are dressed in their white robes. They must be from inside.
They're about to walk past us. One of them, one that isn't dressed, is looking our way. He stops suddenly.
'It's her!' he cries. 
Suddenly, he's in tears. The others gather around him, and they start to walk this way.
Julia suddenly puts her hands to her face. She's looking shocked.
'What's wrong, Julia?' asks Becky. 
'It's him!' she says.
'Who?'
'My uncle George, the one who molested me!' she whispers.
She doesn't look as though she's in any sort of trauma. It's almost a compassionate type of look.
The sobbing man is on his knees in front of her.
'Julia! Oh Julia! I'm so sorry! I ruined your life! Can you ever forgive me?'
'I already did,' she says. 'I've been healed of it, thanks to God and to these two.' She points to Becky and me.
So that's what kept her hiding inside her house!
Now she's hugging the man. 'I've forgiven you already, Uncle George. Jesus forgives you.'
One of his friends, one who's dressed in white is standing next to me. 
'He's been living in our community since it was still near the edge. In that time it's moved almost up to the City gate. Most of us now have our white garments and can go inside. Only he and a couple of others are still waiting for their finishing touches.'
A person like that lives so close to the gate?
'He's been healed of everything that led to his sin against your friend. He has a deep love for children, but during his life on Earth, he let it express itself in the wrong way. By not choosing to love the way God does, his capacity to love became like pressure building up inside, and began to find outlets it was never meant for. First it was just impure thoughts, but they became habit forming. He fought the temptation for a long time, but one day the Enemy set a trap for him. Instead of being a channel of blessing to your friend, he destroyed her life. He's been ashamed of it ever since. We all came here knowing that the Lord had something special for him. This must be it.'
Right now Julia and George are sitting, talking. She's telling him how she was healed. 
She looks at me and say, 'Jake! Why don't you draw me and Uncle George!'
I take my drawing pad and start drawing.
Uncle George is waiting for his white robe, and here I am drawing it for him.
Another man, wearing a robe, walks up to our group and is looking over my shoulder.
I'm so into the drawing, and filling in what I know should be there, like the robes, that I don't notice until I'm all finished that Uncle George is actually wearing one!
Cool! And it looks just like the one I drew! 
This is weird! I'm sure it'll be a long long time before we get our robes, and these people are away beyond us, yet we play a part in helping Uncle George get his.
'Age and maturity mean very little here,' says the man looking over my shoulder. 
Everyone here reads my thoughts!
'A part of advancing in the Kingdom is knowing how to receive from those younger and less mature than yourself. Everyone can have a part to play in your life. You've missed some of the greatest opportunities to grow because you rejected the person who brought you the wisdom you needed.'
He's right. Suddenly, I remember my little sister. I'd never listen to her, and later on, when I should have realised she was right after all, I just sort of buried it. There were others as well, like the little fat kid that got put on the same project as me at school. I think if we had listened to him, we would have got an 'A'. We ended up with a 'B-'.
How many kids did I just ignore, or give the cold shoulder to? But I'd absolutely suck up to the cool ones. I was every bit the leach Becky was. If I'd only seen their value as people, I could have learned something from them.
And, how many times at church...?
Uncle George has my picture now. He's getting teary-eyed again.
But now, I think I'm going to get it as well. The sun has move in the sky, and I'm not in the shade any more, and it's hitting me. 
I remember the bit in James chapter two about the respecting of persons. How many times, in church, did I turn off to people because they didn't look cool? A new kid would come to our youth group, but I'd be too much into chatting up the cool chicks to go over and make him feel welcome. One particular one I remember, never came back because he felt out of place. Later, he OD-ed on drugs. Not that we were in any shape ourselves to help him through that, but our lack of love was part of the bigger problem. 
In James it says that if we choose who we're going to show love to, we're not really filling the Law of Liberty: to love our neighbour as ourselves. Then, we're judged by the whole law.
I look up at the man. He's smiling sadly at me. 
'I - I've not been loving people like I should,' I sob. 'I've rejected people that God sent to me.'
He puts his arms around me. 'You're forgiven. Go and sin no more.'
His hug feels just like the sunrise did this morning.
'Everyone is important in the Kingdom. Even the smallest will play a vital part. That's why it's important that you find Billy.'
He knows Billy!
'Yes, I've known him a long time. He'll be a very productive member of your community once he's restored. Tony is another one.'
I'm just now realising what a totally different picture I'm getting of things here than I got from Tony.
'Was Tony really sent to our community to straighten us out?' I ask.
'He is in your community to fill his unique function, but he hasn't found that yet. He was partly right when he said he should be in the Heavenly City right now. He would be, except he wrote the rule book that disqualified him.'
'What rule book?'
'By judging others, he compiled the list of rules by which he was judged. He should have been allowed into the City, freely by grace -- as judged by the law of liberty -- but because he judged others, there was no choice but to judge him by the same standard by which he judged. That is why he is in your community. But he is also right in that he has something to add to it that is uniquely his. You must bring that out of him.'
'How?' 
'Relate to him in the opposite way to how he does to you, by generous acceptance. Don't point out his faults to him, but simply accept him as he is. Don't even judge him for being judgemental, or you'll catch his judgemental attitude. Restore, don't judge.
Don't judge. Sam, the youth pastor used to say that.
'Judging is a much misunderstood concept.' He's reading my thoughts again! 'Recognising sin is not judgement. It begins with the fear of the Lord. If you fear God, and you see one you love committing sin; you fear for that person, and warn them with the intention of restoring them; that isn't judging. It's restoration.'
That's exactly what we needed in Sam's youth group. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be in the City now if someone knew how to restore.
Now, he's calling two more people from the group, a man and a woman, and he tells me to draw each of them. 
I guess they're the last two from that community who don't have their robes yet.
I draw the woman first. I get her shape, the colour of her skin, and then start drawing in the robe. 
I look up and - like wow! Now she's really wearing one! I can see it on her, but she doesn't know it yet. 
Only now, Uncle Sam realises he's wearing a robe. He's dancing about wildly. Julia, Becky and Donald are dancing too. They grab hands and spin around in a circle over in the grass. 
I've finished the lady, and I give it to her. She's touched.
I start on the man. The same thing happens.
Now they're all out dancing about.
I look around for the man who hugged me. I can't find him anywhere. Where did he go so fast?
The one who was telling me about Uncle George earlier is sitting next to me now. He's ecstatic.
'All our houses will be moved inside the city now!'
'Couldn't you live inside the City before? You've got your robe, don't you?'
'Some of us can go in and out, but we still live in our communities. We only get promoted to living inside when we're all grown to maturity, are dressed in white, and are fitted and held together by the support of every joint with each part fulfilling its function.'
I groan. 'We've got a long way to go.'
'So did we.'
'Did you have worm diggers?'
'We were all digging worms; all thin and emaciated. I looked like a World Vision poster boy. New arrivals would feel sorry for the rest of us and begin giving out water and fruit. Then they'd get jolted, and were soon out fighting us for maggots and snails. Then, one or two learned to get over their jolts the right way, and they helped a few more, and they, a few more, until we were all helping one another.'
'I don't think I'd have got over my jolt if it weren't for Becky, there, and I was the one feeding her.' 
'Two are stronger than one, and a three fold chord can't be easily broken,' he says. 'We're in this together, and we grow to maturity together. We're a body, not just a collection of individuals.'
I remember, 'Back on Earth, they taught us it was an individual thing.'
'Yep. That's what they taught us. And look where it got us!'   
I've just realised - I haven't thanked Becky yet!
* * *
After what happened yesterday, we're ready to see the sunrise from the tower. We stay up there half the morning.

 

The Rescue Shop 

Aaron got back last night. He says he had a terrific time up close to the gate. He heard about us from Julia's Uncle's group.  
He says I haven't drawn his portrait yet, so I do.
That man that gave me the hug, is right. The more mature they are here, the more glad they are to receive input from someone younger. I feel as though I have a lot more love inside me since he hugged me. I see people differently now. I don't care what they can give me. I just want to know them.
Now, we're off to the Edge to find Billy.
Julia feels she did what she came for, which was to meet Uncle George, and doesn't particularly feel she needs to help us look for Billy. We agree with her. Sarah probably needs her more. Julia has gathered some fruit to take back to her. We've got some for Billy.  
I think Sarah was also an abuse victim, and now Julia is just the one to help her. I'm seeing how it all comes together. I helped Becky by giving her water and fruit, and then she helped me by saying I needed to forgive Billy. Then, we both helped Julia, and now we're a team. 
I'm talking to Aaron about all I've learned as we walk. I tell him how different it is from what we believed on Earth.
'That's one thing that kept me from knowing Messiah on Earth,' he says. 'In the Jewish community, we consider that if there are ten Jewish men present, that’s a Minyan. That means we're a congregation. It might be in the local synagogue, or there might simply be ten of us present on a flight from New York to Amsterdam, who never set eyes on each other. We could be an assortment of Reformed, Conservative, Orthodox, or Hassidic or radical Zionist. If there are ten of us, we can have prayers together as a congregation and fulfil the mitzva regarding meeting together as a congregation -- not that there was any love lost between us, mind you, but at least we fulfilled the commandment. 
'Assembling together as a congregation is also a Christian mitzva according to the Epistle to the Hebrews, the tenth chapter. However, Christians that I knew had no concept of that. It was as though they belonged to separate religions. The Baptist who lived next door to me kept trying to convert me to a Baptist Jesus, the Presbyterian across the street told me of his Presbyterian Jesus. Just down the street was someone with a Catholic Jesus. My Pentecostal friend told me to ignore them all -- his Pentecostal Jesus who does miracles in our day and age was the real one. 
'Now, if only one of them had treated his Baptist brother and his Presbyterian brother, his Catholic and Pentecostal brothers like they were a part of the same body, like brothers and sisters for whom they'd lay down their life, they might have made an impression on me. I might have avoided this "outer darkness". Now, I know such Christians did exist, and were even numerous in some parts, but I didn’t happen to know any.' 
This is hitting close to home. I remember I had a Baptist neighbour and a Methodist neighbour, whom I totally ignored because they weren't my type spiritually. Instead, I'd drive away across town to my own church, and even there, there were ones I'd ignore. I was a respector of persons.
'I'm sorry, Aaron.'
'I forgive you.' He gives me a hug.
* * *
We've been on the road many days now. We've stopped here and there, enjoyed the light from people's sunroofs, and now we're back to picking our way between houses. We're handing fruit to worm digging kids as we go. There's one special bag for Billy, and we don't give that away. Julia's also got one for Sarah.
I think we're getting near our old neighbourhood.
Suddenly Becky lets out a scream.
'That's my house!'
We look. She runs up the steps and sure enough, the door opens.
We all follow her in. It's a nice house.
There's no carpet, but there's really nice wallpaper. In the middle of the wall of the family room, in a fancy frame, is the picture I drew of her.
In the kitchen, there's a big basket of fruit. The water runs, of course.
It's getting about time to stop for the night, so we'll sleep here.
Becky carries the basket out the front door and yells, 'There's fruit here! Come and get it!'
Kids start running up from all over the place. Soon we're all helping her hand out fruit, and taking kids inside for a bath. 
One of the kids, who looks healthier than the rest, looks at Becky and says, 'Your the one who was staying with the new kid, aren't you!' 
Then he sees me. 
Some of them say we've changed. Others, who hadn't seen us before think we're angels. I guess it's the light from up close to the gate that's still shining off of us.
The kid who recognised Becky comes quietly to me, and says, 'This is weird, but I remember seeing her die.'
'On Earth?'
'Yeah. She was crossing the street and she was hit by a car. I remember the date -- it was August 31st, 2003, the day before I started going to my new school.'
Interesting. It means Becky actually died, and the world didn't end in year 2000. I wonder if anyone remembers me dying? 
I shrug. He leaves.
Everyone's gone now. I think one of the pictures I drew at the garden would look nice on the wall opposite Becky's portrait. 
Another surprise: Becky's house has a sunroof. We spend the evening there. The light we get from there has a strange familiarity about it. It's as though it were reflecting from Becky.
* * *
We slept well, even if it was on the hard floor. We've watched the sunrise from Becky's sunroof.
Julia heads off to her place, and she's got one of my pictures from the garden which she's going to hang up.
We're off again, towards the edge.
* * *
The farther we go, the more noticeable the change is. I wouldn't have realised how dingy everything is if I hadn't been close to the City gates. 
The neighbourhoods around here are in an even worse state than ours. The kids look at us as though we don't belong.
We talk to one kid who looks like he's less far gone than the rest. We describe Billy to him, and he says he had been digging here for a few days, got into a fight only yesterday and then headed off West again.
* * *
The sky is dark up ahead, even though there are no clouds, and the sun is still high in the sky. The sun looks big and red, as what you'd imagine a red giant would look like from one of its planets.
There's more space between the houses here. The kids look worse than I've ever seen them.
I can see up ahead between some of the houses. It looks like there's a wide space with no houses at all. Just beyond that I see a tiny point of light, almost as though it were shining out of a window.
I'm sure it's not that. I've only seen a few houses with working lights, and they were close to the City. 
Becky suddenly stops in front of a house we're passing.
'That was Alec's house!' she said. 
'Who's Alec?' I ask.
'He never came outside, but he was thinner than Julia and Sarah used to be. This house was right where yours is now.'
'How did it come to be here then?'
Aaron says, 'I've heard of it happening. When they get beyond a certain stage of deterioration, and there's no hope of them becoming a productive member of the community they're in, their house gets moved to the outskirts of the Suburb.'
We get to the clearing. Now, the light ahead definitely looks like it's coming from inside a house. The sky behind it is the blackest black I've ever seen.
I've seen black nights, like in someone's basement with no lights on, where you can't even see your hand in front of your face, but this isn't like that. It's so black it almost pulls you towards it. Even though it's behind the lit up house, it almost obscures the light coming from it, so you can only really see the lights coming in from the middle windows.
Here and there there's a kid, but they're not even digging. One of them is just lying there staring into the sky, with his mouth open. He looks like a skeleton.
I'm sure that on Earth he'd have been dead long ago, in this state. There's got to be something we can do to help him. 
I look in my backpack and find my water skin. I take it and put the mouth of it to his lips. He just drinks, and drinks, but doesn't say anything. 
When he's drunk all he can, Aaron says, 'That's all we can do for now.' 
We leave him still lying there.
The darkness is so thick, it pulls the strength out of you. You feel like lying down, but even that wouldn't be a restful experience. It would just keep draining the strength out of you. 
We see other kids lying about.  
We come to one kid, and Becky says to me, 'That's Alec!'
Suddenly I feel sad. This kid should be a part of our community, but here he is in middle of no-where, beyond our help. 
I've never felt this way about someone I didn't know before. I guess it's normal.
We give him some water as well.
I don't know about the rest, but I'm getting pretty exhausted.
'Greetings, friends.' 
It's an older man. He looks in good shape. He's carrying a water skin and an empty bag.  
I wonder what he's doing living away out here?
I ask him, 'Have you seen a kid about this high, straight blond hair, and very thin, coming this way?'
'I think so,' he says. 'He'd be the one I saw walking faster than any of our local kids would, just this morning. I'm a bit worried about him. He won't respond to me at all. You'll find him over in that direction, probably standing on the edge.'
I look, and now I can see that the ground ends just past the lit up house, and there's like the edge of a cliff running along in the direction he's pointing.
The man says, 'You're best chance of helping him is right at sundown. When they're facing the sun is the best time to get them away from the cliff. They don't like the light. That's what drives them here in the first place. But it's a while before sunset. Why don't you turn in here?'
We're too freaked out by the darkness to say very much.
We arrive at the lit up house and go inside. There's such a difference. We can rest. The light from the light bulb looks as though it were shining from the City.
The man's name is Raymundo.
'How come you live way out here?' says Becky
'This house is called the "Rescue Shop Within a Yard of Hell". There are a few of us involved here; we take it in turns. We all belong to various communities further in, and a few come from inside the City.'
'What do you do?' asks Donald.
'Exactly what you were doing a while ago. We go from kid to kid, doing what we can for them. Sometimes all we can do is give them a bit of water. If they can take it, we give them a bit of fruit, and sometimes we shift them around to make them more comfortable, or to sit up facing the East if they can take some light. Sometimes, we pick them up and carry them a few feet towards the East.'
Raymudo sits us down on cushions and brings us tea and biscuits. 
Aaron says, 'So this place is named literally for what it is.'
'The name is from a rhyme by C.T.Studd: Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell. He's the one who inspired me to become a missionary.'
'Oh?' I say. 'Where did you go?'
'I didn't. Couldn't bring myself to leave my comfortable lifestyle, so I went on living "within the sound of church or chapel bell". Mind you, I went to every prayer meeting where they prayed for missionaries, I paid my tithes, so the pastor thought I was a model church member, but over all, I lived for myself. I spent most of my money on myself. I was the rich fool who kept building bigger and bigger barns. The church was happy, because I paid tithes from what I gathered into them, but the barns were for me and myself only.'
'Tithing?' said Aaron. 'That's a mitzva for Jewish people living in the Holy Land while daily sacrifices are going on in the Temple.' 
'It's also the Christian excuse to limit one's generosity to one tenth of one's income. So, I did the Christian thing of tithing, I went in for every spiritual fad, got spiritually fat, I prophesied in His name, I cast out demons in His name, and I did miracles within the four walls of the church for people who didn't need it, but I'm afraid I never truly obeyed Him. I lived for myself. I arrive here only to find that my place is here in the outer darkness. After considerable waling and gnashing my teeth, I simply began fulfilling the calling I had on Earth. 
'Now, every day, I see people, both here near the edge and down there,' -- he points to the edge where it's all dark -- 'who died prematurely, or could have gone through the gates, or could have at least been up here instead of down there, had I obeyed God. I seem to have the gift of picking them out. It makes me wale and gnash my teeth some more.'
'Sounds like me, all over,' I say. It really is. If I could only have one more chance at life on Earth...
Raymundo listens to us as we tell him about Billy.
'I'll take you to where I last saw him. He won't respond to me, but I think you've been sent especially for him. You'd have what it takes, and you being what you are -- everything he hates -- I think there's a special reason.

 

Finding Billy 

Now, we're ready to go.
Raymundo says, 'I must warn you, when you stand on the precipice, don't look down. Look straight forward, or up, but not down. Only when the sun sets, and dissolves into the lower parts, and sets it all on fire, should you look down. In fact, what you see then will be very educational.'
'What happens if we look down?' asks Donald.
'You've heard of black holes, I'm sure. What it's down there is a black hole. It is so intensely black it sucks in all light. It will begin to suck out all your happiness if you look at it. If you do happen to accidentally look down, then immediately look straight into the sun. 
'Now, you're friend has probably been looking down. It's important that we find him at sunset before the fire subsides because it will quickly drain him, and he'll soon be no better than the kids you've seen lying on the ground helpless. We'll have a lot of work to do on him as it is.'
We're off. 
We pass more kids lying about. 
After helping one, Raymundo says, 'Remember, I said I did miracles in His name? Had I been obedient and left my comfort zone, this one wouldn't be lying here like this. I would have used my gift to impart healing to him and he would still be alive on Earth right now, probably doing the work of the ministry, and going straight through the gates of the City whenever his time came. 
'Like all of these up here, he'll get into the City eventually. It may take a thousand or so years for some of them. The trouble is, once they've revived enough so they can get back on their feet, some go right back to the edge again, and they're back to square one. But my gift of picking them out also helps me to know what they need. If he responds well, he may be living in a house within a week or two.'
Even without looking down, this place is depressing. It's the total opposite of where we were, near the City gate.
'Now, you know why it was important to go towards the light before coming here,' says Aaron.
There is a kid ahead of us standing right on the edge. His shape looks familiar.
We walk up.
'Billy!' I call. So does Becky.
Raymundo says, 'He probably won't answer. You two will have to go up to him, but remember, don't look down.'
Becky and I walk slowly up.
'Billy,' says Becky.
'Leave me alone,' he says.
'Billy, come home with us.'
'Down there's my home.'
'No, Billy, it's not,' I say. 'Up here is your home.'  
'What are you doing here? You hate me.'
'No, I don't. I've been healed of my jolt, and so can you. I love you now.'
'Nobody loves me, and I can't be healed.'
Becky puts her arm around him. 
'But you can,' she says.
I accidentally look down, just for a second. 
Oh God! I've never felt this dizzy! I can suddenly remember everything bad I've ever done, all at once, even one or two things that hadn't jolted me yet!  
It's hard to remember anything happy. 
I know I must try. But even the sunroof experiences are suddenly fading.
But the more I try to remember anything, the more I stumble across the bad.
I look away. Something inside me doesn't want to -- it just wants to keep staring down -- as though it were a magnetic attraction or something. 
I know I must look up. 
I'm very depressed. I see what a rotten scumbag I've been all my life. That stands out vivid right now. I really should jump over the edge.
I don't dare look down again. I'm afraid I really might jump.
I look at the sun.
The sun's radiation has a soothing effect. It's drawing my focus to Him.
That's better.
I realise now what happened when I looked down. I lost my focus on Him and on others. Looking at the black hole put my focus on me -- so intensely on me it was depressing. I'm only supposed to see myself in light of Him. That's what the sunroof experiences were all about.
My focus is supposed to be on Him, and others -- like Billy. That's the reason we came here. 
I know what's depressing Billy now.
I'd forgotten about him. It's a good thing Becky's been talking to him all this time. 
I put my arm around him. 'Look at the sun, Billy,' 
'No. I hate the sun. It comes from back there.'
'But the sun is from God, and He loves you. That's why he sent it here.'
He looks up, but suddenly flinches, and reels backwards.
I help steady him, and pull him around by the shoulder. 
'Let's go sit over here a minute.'
He comes along, but he's still adamant. 
'God can't love me. No one can love me. I belong down there.'
Donald looks at Billy strangely. He puts his hand on his shoulder.
'Don't touch me you nigger!'
'I know you!' says Donald.
'I don't care! Get away from me!'
'You're name is Will, isn't it! Will Helm!'
Will Helm! I remember that name!
'So what if it is?'
'School canteen, Third Avenue Middle School...'
So Billy is Will Helm! Why didn't I recognise him before?
'You and a few others beat me up! I died in the hospital!'
'Alright, throw me off the edge then! That's where I belong, isn't it!'
'No, Will. I can't. I love you. I forgive you!' Donald starts to embrace him.
'Get your freak'n hands off me!'
Aaron starts to put his arms around him.
'I also forgive you, Will.'
'Y-you're a Jew! I can't believe this! A Nigger and a Kike!'
'The most Jewish man in the universe loves you and gave His life for you, Will,' says Aaron.
'I knew it!' he starts sobbing, 'God's a Jew! The universe is Jewish! I don’t belong in it! I can never be happy in it!' Now he wailing, and screaming. 'The whole freak'n universe is Jewish! The only place for me is down there!' 
He acts like he'd run back to the edge, but for the sun shining from that direction.
'Billy,' Aaron says. 'If you belonged down there, God would have sent you there. But you're here. That means there's something in you, you're true self, that responded to God at one time and hasn't died yet.'
'But I'm so bad! I'm not worthy!'
'Of course you're not worthy. I'm not worthy. None of us are. That's why Yeshua gave His life for us. Now he's sent us specifically to find you and bring you back.' 
Aaron has his arms around him, and Donald has his hand.
They sit down on a mound, with Billy in the middle.
'Just look up at the sun, Will.'
Billy looks up at it.
Now, the sun is touching the horizon, and something strange begins to happen. 
I had though that the melting effect we saw from the roofs further in was caused by the distance and haze. Now, I see that the sun actually dissolves as it touches the bottom. 
It's making a noise -- a weird one, sort of like turning on the vocals pre-set on an electronic organ and then pressing all the keys at once.
A fire begins to spread from where the sun's touching down. The noise is also increasing, and seems to be coming from everywhere the fire has spread to. Where it looked intensely black before is now on fire. There is a floor that I couldn't see before. It's becoming covered with flames.
Becky and I walk to the edge to get a closer look. 
The sun is completely dissolved now, and the place below is a vast sea of red fire as far as the eye can see.
There are people down there! That's where the noise comes from, it's them screaming!
Now, I remember the lady's story of the rich man and Lazarus. 
That really is hell then!
I can see individual people down there. They're screaming as the fire touches them. 
Wait -- I know that one. That's my old youth pastor!
I can't believe this! My youth pastor -- down there -- in hell! 
I can even pick out his voice from the rest.
Some of the people are starting to look about. My old youth pastor, Sam, is looking up at the precipice. 
Now he sees me.
'Jake! Is that you?' He sounds as though he's in pain.
'Yeah, Sam,' I say. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. 
This is worse than being at the funeral of someone you think may have gone to hell, and trying to comfort the bereaved.
'Jake! I'm -- I'm sorry -- I led you down the wrong road!'
'I forgive you Sam. But it won't do any good now though will it.'
'You could have popped in to see me -- nobody would call me any more -- I couldn't take it -- so I just ...' A wave of fire covers him and I lose him.
He's right. Someone gave me his phone number, and told me he had left the ministry and was selling insurance. I had his number, and I thought about calling him, then I thought, 'Naaa.' 
So he couldn't take the loneliness, so he just -- what? Did he take his own life?
I certainly didn't have much to give -- like I have a bit better idea now what people need -- I just didn't have it then, but would a simple visit from me have changed it all?
Raymundo is standing with us now.
'You notice how out of place Billy feels up here?'
'Yeah,' I say.
'All of those people down there would be in even worse shape than he. It's actually Divine mercy that they're down there and not up here.'
'But they're in so much pain from the fire!' says Becky.
'They were in even more misery a few minutes ago before the sun came down and set the floor on fire. The surface of the black hole was sucking every bit of joy out of them. All day, they have been longing for this fire. It's the closest thing they'll ever experience to God's glory. Though you see flames, to you or me the heat would be almost nothing -- even less than what we feel right now...'
He's right. It actually feels cold. Not at all like standing on the edge of a fiery lake.
'...but to them, it's almost unbearable. Already, they're longing for the blackness, forgetting that that's even worse. This sun's name is "mercy", and it is sent to them every day from God's presence. After depositing its energy on this outer perimeter area all day, there's just enough left for these here.'
'But why can't they just be wiped out so they won't feel anything any more?' I ask.
'A human soul, created in God's image, is eternal. It can never be deleted. The black hole is really no more than a window in the universe, a place -- or rather, not a place, if you can figure that out -- where the universe isn't. It's a true vacuum, even more so than the space between planets, stars and galaxies.' 
We stand there looking.
Suddenly, Raymundo says, 'Oh God! Another one!'
'Another what?'
'When I was at the height of my money-making career, some people in my city did a fund-raiser to send food to famine victims in North Africa. I supported it -- everyone said, generously. They gave me a plaque that I proudly hung on my wall. Towards the end of the charity drive, the thought occurred to me, what if I liquidated half of my investments and gave the proceeds? How many lives would I save?'
'And?'
'That man over there wouldn't be where he is had I followed through with the idea.'
'But if it's your fault, then why is he there?' asks Becky.
'On earth we thought that if we could find one person to blame for a problem, it let the rest of us off the hook. That's not how it works. That man most certainly deserves to be where he is. He ruined peoples lives. He heard the Gospel, understood it, but resisted it and kept others from it.'
'Well, there you go then. He's getting what he deserves.'
'Not as simple as that. Saul of Tarsus would be right there too had he not been given one more chance. The famine relief, coming from believers would have both saved his life and softened his heart so that he would have likely repented later, and perhaps sparked a revival.'
'Oh...' That's all I can say. 
Raymundo's weeping.
I feel as though there's a lot more I could have done too, like for Sam, and -- who else?
We walk back to where Aaron and Donald are sitting with Billy facing the Eastern horizon. We can see it quite well since we're in a clearing. 
He seems to be quieter now, munching on a pear.
We get up and walk slowly towards the rescue shop. 
Aaron is walking ahead with his arm around Billy. Becky is with them.
Donald is walking with me. He says, 'It would be better not to call him by the name "Will Helm".'
'Why?'
'Not his real name. It's what he chose for his Nazi identity. He was simply called "Billy" before that. We gotta to get rid of "Will Helm", so the real "Billy" can surface.'
We'll spend the night at the rescue shop.
* * *
We're at my house, finally. Billy seems to have warmed up to Aaron and Donald. They're all staying with me for the time being.
My house has a nice polished wooden floor now, with a few throw rugs.
Anyway, I'm tired from walking all day. I'll just stretch out here on one of the rugs.

 

The First Day 

I wake up. I'm lying in a -- a bed! It's a bedroom. Do I remember this bedroom? I think I do. There's a small window letting in the morning light. There's the sound of traffic, and of a jet plane flying overhead.
And, I'm stark naked. I seem to remember being naked for two months -- but this doesn't feel right. Whatever that was, this isn't the same thing. I don't think I'll sleep nude any more.
Yes, I remember this place. I remember going to bed -- like it was yesterday -- yet I remember two months in between. 
I find my clothes where I left them, hanging on the back of the chair. 
Was that a dream? It seemed so real! 
It feels as though two months worth of memory have been superimposed over my normal consciousness.
I'm dressed. I wash my face, shave -- yes, I am an adult. I'm 28 years old. 
It's Sunday. I've just moved to this place. It's not far from the neighbourhood where I grew up. I start my new job tomorrow.
I'll just walk about outside and get accustom to this neighbourhood and maybe clear my head after that - whatever it was.
I step into the newsagent on the corner.  Maybe a newspaper will help me get my feet on solid ground.
Someone is leafing through the tabloids.
It's her.
She looks at one with a headline about one of Princess Diana's boyfriends. She can't seem to choose between that and the scoop about a Coronation Street actress's sex life. 
The date on one of the newspapers says, August 31st, 2003. That rings a bell. 
Of course it would. It's the day after yesterday, isn't it!
But it's a different sort of bell.
She notices my presence.
'New here, aren't you.'
'How did you know?'
'Saw you going into Alec's old house yesterday.'
'You're name is -- Becky, isn't it.'
'How did you know?'
'I've met you before.'
She looks at me. In her adult face, the little girl's is unmistakable. 
Suddenly she looks at her watch.
'Is that the time?'
She rushes out. I follow her to the door and watch her hurry towards the pelican crossing that has just started flashing. She's not looking.
There's a car hurtling towards her at breakneck speed.
I gasp. I run out and grab her.
She falls over backwards on top of me.
The vehicle flies past, just inches from us.
We struggle to our feet. Other pedestrians give us a hand up. 
A boy is looking at me. I know that face.
We dust ourselves off. 
Where have I met that boy before?
Becky gasps. 'I could have been killed!'
I remember! That's the kid who told me he saw Becky run over by a car while crossing a street. He even remembered the day that it happened. It was August 31st, 2003.
He looks at me, then his mother jerks him along by the hand.
I've just changed history!
'Er -- yes,' I say. 'You would have been killed.'
We decide we need to go somewhere to sit down. I need my morning coffee, so we pop into a café.
'Are there any churches in this area?' I ask.
'I'll take you to the one I go to -- sometimes. I think I could do with church after that idiot almost hit me. I could be in heaven -- or wherever -- right now.'
'Yeah,' I mumble. 'Or wherever.'
* * *
The church is within walking distance, but it's quite a walk. There's a crowd of young people hanging about near the park as we pass.
One of them yells, 'Hoi! Becky! Gotta new bloke or what?'
Becky turns to me and says, 'Don't talk to him. He's a total scumbag.'
I look around at him. The face! I see a swastika tattooed to his shoulder. 
Can it be....
We're out of sight now.
 * * *
The pastor of this church is someone named Rev. Tony Johnston. He seems nice, but doesn't give a warm welcome. He doesn't seem particularly glad to see Becky, but he congratulates her on bringing someone.
He seems to have a bit of an attitude.
He gets up to give his sermon. 'Prayer is the answer. Prayer opens doors that man can't open. The trouble is, no one prays. I get up before the sunrise every morning to pray. Some would rather go off to endless revival meetings and conferences, but that won't get you anywhere. Prayer, and serious prayer is the answer, not falling over laughing, not surfing the blogs for the latest religious trends ...' and off he goes, into a spiel that I'm sure I've heard before somewhere. 
There seems to be a lot of truth to it, but on a whole, it gives me the impression of dirty tasting water barely trickling out of someone's tap. Okay if you're thirsty.
I lose interest in the sermon. I'm thinking about the dream I just had. 
Was it a dream? 
It's more of an experience. I seem to have been affected by it somehow. I just don't see things like I did yesterday -- I mean the yesterday that I climbed into bed at my new house. 
Becky is a real person. So is the kid who saw her killed -- or would have seen her killed -- whatever. 
The course of history has changed. I get the feeling it's going to change some more.
Was that really Will Helm I just saw? 
Tony's winding down his sermon now. I’ll be glad to get out of here. He strikes me as the type who’s more concerned with keeping his furniture clean than making people feel welcome.
Finally, we’re out in the foyer. 
Becky knows quite a few people here. There are a couple of old ladies that seem to know her. Becky introduces me to them. 
They’re both spinsters. One's name Julia and the other, Sarah. They look old, but I have a feeling they're younger than they look.
We're making small talk.
The names sound familiar. I look at Julia. There are lines in her face that make her look... I’ve seen it before -- looking very much like this. I also see that beauty that was there once-upon-a-time.
It's Julia! -- the Julia we took fruit to -- and I drew her picture -- and she turned into a butterfly before my eyes.
'Julia,' I catch myself saying. 'I'd like to come over sometime and paint your portrait.'
'What? And waste a perfectly good canvas?' She's joking, but I can tell there's something more below the surface.
'No, really. I bet I could paint you exactly as you were when you were young.'
'Not in the nude, I hope!' 
I think the look of horror is more than just put on.
'No. I don't do nudes -- not any more.'
We talk some more. Becky agrees to take me to her place some time.
* * *
There's a synagogue just down from the church. The sign says 'Aaron Glasser Memorial Jewish Centre'. 
The front door is open. Someone's cleaning up inside. 
A picture on the wall inside catches my eye. It's of an old rabbi -- grey beard, black felt hat, spectacles, kind looking face.
Probably the one the place is named for. We're almost to the next door.
'Hold on,' I say. 
I just have to take another look. Becky waits for me. 
I've seen those eyes. I could swear he was related to Aaron in -- wherever. His father, maybe?
The old man doing the cleaning up notices me. He's wearing a skull cap.
'He was one of the better ones, he was. One of the tsaddikim! Made the Torah alive!'
'When did he die?'
He looks at me. 'Before you were born, I dare say.'
'I might have known one of his grandkids,' I say. 
He shrugs and goes back to sweeping.
* * *
We stop at a place for lunch.
We tell each other about ourselves. There's really a lot I didn't know about Becky from -- where ever that was. Her age, for instance, and her history. I guess she didn't remember a lot of it herself there. It turns out we went to the same school, though a few years apart. 
I see a lot of what I saw at first: the worm digger, the leach. Yesterday -- physical yesterday, I mean -- I would have said she’s not my type, and been done with her. Even now she's leaching off me. She's suddenly popped off to the lady's room just as it's time to pay the bill, and she's the one that suggested we stop here.
But that's okay. Today, I see the beauty that once was, the little girl smile I originally saw, and what I saw her become.
I'll have to draw her portrait sometime. Wouldn't it be funny if I drew her as a little girl in a white robe?
I'm just sitting here, waiting for the change and the receipt. 
Someone approaches the table. 'Hello, Jake.'
I look up. It's that man I met at the garden -- the one who hugged me and gave me the really warm feeling. And he still knows me!
He sits down. 'So, you've found Becky.'
'Er -- yeah.'
'That's good. And you've met a few of the others as well.'
'Yeah, like Will Helm...'
'Billy,' he corrects me. 'I know him as Billy. Billy Walters.'
'Yeah, Billy, and Julia and Sarah, and the kid who saw -- or would have seen Becky killed...'
'That's Ross Pierson. He has a hungry heart which no one has attended to -- yet.' 
'And there's Reverend Tony.'
'Remember, relate to him with the opposite spirit -- with generous acceptance. He can yet come around.'
'But I haven't seen Aaron yet.'
'That was his picture you were looking at.' 
'Huh?'
I can't believe I'm having this conversation.
'But, what was that place?' I ask. 'Is it real?'
'Oh yes. Very real. Heaven and hell are real.'
'And the part in between...?'
'It's real, and it's also right here.'
'Is there really such a place as Purgatory then?'
'Let's leave that for the theologians to sort out. If I sent you out with all the answers, I'm afraid you'd start a sect. Goodness me! We don't need another one!'
'So, where was I then?'
'Let's say you were in Allegory. What you saw being accomplished there, should be happening on Earth. In fact, Earth is the ideal venue for accomplishing all that you saw being done there. The Gospel of the Kingdom was designed to produce disciples, who when they die, will go straight through the gates of the City. Because you've been there, you can make a difference. Help make my prayer come to pass, Your will be done in Earth, as it is in heaven. You remember that parts of where you were, were like heaven, others like hell. The same is true of Earth.'
I could only nod in agreement to that one.
Then I thought of something else. 'What about Billy then? After what he's done, how did he get to that place, and not -- you know...'
'He knew me when he was still "Billy". The Will Helm personality, which he created to carry his new identity, very nearly snuffed out the real Billy. Had that happened, you would have seen him there, next to Sam, your old Youth Pastor. But Billy is a rare case. Unlike most who intentionally go down the road of racial hatred, he hasn't crossed the line. Sam has, but there is still time for him. What you saw was his future. The only thing that will save him from it now is deep repentance on his part. That may yet happen if you visit him and buy him more time. Otherwise, his state is worse than had he never believed.'
'But Sam was a much better person than Billy. Yet, he was down in -- er -- hell! I mean, where is the line to be drawn between who goes where?'
'There's another piece of information you could easily use to build your own sect. Leave it to me to know where the line is. Nobody deserves to be given a second chance for life. All deserve to be down there, in the fire of hell. That's why this was necessary...'
He rolls up his sleeves, and on both his wrists, I see nail prints!
'You -- you're ...' 
'That's right,' he says. 'Now, remember to pay Sam a visit.'
Becky is coming back.
'Becky, I want to introduce you to someone.'
'Who?' She looks confused.
I look, but the chair is empty. He's nowhere to be seen.

bobcharters.blogspot.com

for a simpler explanation of what the Kingdom of God is all about, 
check out my illustrated e-book at the following website:
www.tinyurl.com/HappyKingdom


for a discussion of the subject of the afterlife, check out my article A Study In Judgment
www.TinyUrl.com/RobbysBooks/StudyInJudgement.pdf



More by Robby Charters:

The Happy Kingdom

A cartoon illustrated description of the Kingdom of God. What exactly is the Kingdom of God? How does one get in? In answering these questions, we do a panoramic survay of the whole Bible -- a bit of a crash course in Theology. Draws from both Christian and Jewish sources. 



Also by Robby Charters:

Pepe
The year is 2020. We have people living on Mars, but haven't sorted out life on earth yet. To the boy washing windscreens at the traffic signal, it could just as well be 1920.

The boy is Pepe. He doesn't know who his real parents are. His 'grandma' dies in a slum fire, and he is left to fend for himself and his grandma's biological granddaughter, Po, whom he treats like a real sister. They live in an abandoned construction site with other homeless children. With help from a young computer hacker named Raul and a mystical old man named Atsuko, Pepe discovers his true identity.
The villain: General Don Juan Clemente, who seized power from the king ten years ago, and installed himself as president for life. The General has a degenerative disease that is paralysing him. However, his brain has been linked to a computer network that enables him to control the country and destroy any threat to his power. Right now, his biggest threat is the very existence of Pepe. 

Eetoo
Think: Ben Hur of Science Fiction. Eetoo, a shepherd from an obscure planet, realises his mission in life: to search for the golden tablets that will complete his tribe's knowledge of the truth. They are located on the forgotten Planet of Red Earth, the birthplace of humanity. He has help from fellow humans as well as non humans. Some species would rather see humanity extinct, and for good reason. The ancient Nephteshi Empire showed how evil humanity can be. The paradox keeps Eetoo searching for answers, taking him to first century Earth.
The parts of the narrative set on the Planet of Red Earth (our earth, actually), are influenced by readings of first century history in light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Pseudopigrapha, Rabbinical sources, as well as readings of Shalom Asch's The Nazarene. Some study of Quantum Mechanics also helped. 

The Story of Saint Catrick
Dr. Catrick is a professor at the Feline University in Catropolis. As a young cat, he had a life changing experience that set him on his mission in life, to proclaim that animal species can and should live in harmony. All the while, the rodents are rising up against cat rule. Catrick and his friends encounter political agendas, prejudices, and countless other reasons for not doing the obvious. 

The Zondon
Ernie Magawan has been bothered by bazaar recurring dreams of outer space and a green crystal. He's tempted to agree with his twin that he might be off in the head - until, during an archaeology dig, he finds the very crystal and realises he's on an mission that started before he was born. The stability of the universe depends on their success. He has to find and wake up six others like himself. On the way, he and his growing team rub shoulders with international terrorists, Neo Nazis, migrant farm workers, and a mystic rabbi; in a rollercoaster ride that takes them from the streets of Bangkok to the mountains of Afghanistan, to Jerusalem, to a nuclear silo in North Korea. 

Available at Smashwords.com

Browse to www.TinyUrl.com/RobbysBooks  for information on more books