“What do you think happened to all the people who disappeared?” Megan asked.
“I don’t know,” Juan said. “I know I don’t believe that God just scooped them up and took them off to heaven in the twinkling of an eye.”
“So which is it then?” Megan pressed. “Aliens or some secret superweapon?”
Juan shrugged.
“And if it’s either of those,” Megan went on, “why haven’t we heard from the aliens again? Why hasn’t the superweapon been discovered or used again?”
Holding a hand up to fend Megan off, Juan said, “You know, I got out of bed to come here because I thought you might have something I wanted to hear. But now you’re talking about the Rapture, the Second Coming, and all this mumbo jumbo that I’m not going to buy. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Mrs. G, but I don’t see how listening to you is going to help me.”
Several other teens agreed.
“Actually, there’s a new theory going around,” Shawn Henderson said. He was a gamer and a computer junkie, brilliant but barely making passing grades because he refused to apply himself to schoolwork. He often knew more than the teachers who taught computer science and mathematics.
Everyone in the room turned to look at him.
“I was watching the news,” Shawn said. “Anybody seen the new Romanian president who’s got everybody talking?”
“Carpathia,” Kyle Lonigan said. Like Shawn, Kyle was a gamer, but he was also a jock. Tall and good-looking, with a weight lifter’s physique, he sat in the back with one of the books open on the desk before him.
“Right,” Shawn said. “Carpathia and Chaim Rosenzweig—that’s the guy who invented the chemical fertilizer that made Israel rich, for those of you who don’t keep up with current events—have postulated that the earth’s natural electromagnetic fields combined with some mysterious or so-far-unexplained atomic ionization left over from atomic-weapons tests in the past and nuclear power plants in the present.”
“Electromagnetism?” Devon scoffed.
Shawn nodded. “Electromagnetism is one of the most prevalent kinds of energy in the world. To a degree, your body is a walking electromagnetic production plant that stays in tune with nature around it. Gives you a constant cause-and-effect relationship with the world.”
A chorus of jibes followed Shawn’s statement and completely embarrassed him.
Pushing his glasses up his nose and looking away from Devon as his cheeks colored, Shawn continued. “Rosenzweig and Carpathia think that only those people with low electromagnetic levels got zapped. Their fields couldn’t stand the sudden discharge of electromagnetism the rest of us never even noticed.”
“Can’t believe you made the cut, Henderson,” Kyle quipped.
“They say young kids and babies have low electromagnetic levels,” Shawn said. “That’s why they vanished.”
“Vanished how?” Tobin Zachary asked. He was quiet and easygoing, a long-distance runner and a writer for the school paper. He wanted to be a journalist or a novelist.
Shawn shrugged. “They really didn’t go into that. I guess those people’s polarities just kind of … came
undone.
Their atoms got released back into the world and they were … erased.”
The statement took a lot of the levity out of the room. Most of the kids in attendance had lost loved ones. For her part, Megan couldn’t bear the thought of Chris just … evaporating. Like he’d never been. Nausea twisted through her stomach.
He’s not right,
Megan told herself.
That’s not what happened. Chris is fine. He’s just not here.
“Sorry,” Shawn said quietly into the silence that followed. “Got foot-in-mouth disease.”
Megan looked around the room, knowing that she had lost the kids. She wasn’t at all certain that she knew how to get them back. Their losses were still too real to them, too fresh and too hurtful, and she was not here in an authority capacity. They’d already sensed that.
Juan threw his hands up and stood. “Sorry, Mrs. G, but I’ve had about all the grins and giggles I can stand for the morning. This is all too depressing to me. You don’t have any real answers, and the day outside is just right for some volleyball in the park. Since this morning seminar is voluntary, I think I’m going to just chuck it and say thanks, but no thanks.” He started for the door.
Before he reached it, most of the other teens got up from their chairs and started to follow him.
“No!” Susan January, one of the quietest girls at the post, shoved herself up from her seat. She turned on the other kids like a wounded tiger. “Don’t you see how stupid all of you are being?”
Shocked by Susan’s outburst, the group stopped. Susan was never one to yell at anybody
Tears ran down Susan’s face. Although she was seventeen, she looked twelve years old. She was lanky and cute, and didn’t look as though she would hurt a fly.
“I saw my mother disappear,” Susan said in a ragged voice that was only a step above a whisper. “It was a school night, and we were up late watching a movie. We’d rented a DVD and had intended to watch the movie earlier, but we got tied up doing things around the house.” She stopped, choked by emotion.
Megan hadn’t heard the story. All she knew was that Susan had been present when her mother had disappeared. Susan was one of the few people—and the only one that Megan personally knew—who had actually seen someone vanish. In counseling sessions, private and group, Megan had tried to get the girl to talk about what had happened that night. Susan never had.
“She was sitting there,” Susan said in a tight voice and waving her arm to her side, “sitting there right beside me. We were laughing at the movie, laughing and not even knowing we weren’t going to see each other again.”
The kids stood inside the room. Most of them were uncomfortable because of the raw emotion Susan exuded, but all of them were mesmerized by her story. They’d seen accounts of the phenomenon dozens of times on television, but they’d never heard one in person.
“There was no warning,” Susan whispered hoarsely. “No sound before, during, or after my mom disappeared.” She paused, struggling to go on. “Mom was just … just
there.
Then she was …
gone.
We were laughing together; then I heard only myself and saw her empty clothes on the couch where she’d been sitting beside me.”
Some of the girls started to cry. As tough as she presented herself to be, Geri Krauser was the first to reach Susan’s side and throw an arm around the girl’s shoulders.
“It was like I blinked,” Susan went on, her voice dry and harsh. “Mom was there; then I blinked and she wasn’t. It happened that fast.”
“Man, that’s harsh,” Shawn said.
“It
was
harsh,” Susan said. “Since that time, I’ve been looking for an answer, trying to figure out what happened. Mrs. Gander came here today with an answer that I’d already started thinking about. I go to church. Mom made sure I went to church every Sunday. She read me Bible stories when I was little, and she talked to me about God.” She choked back a sob. “More than that, my mom
believed
in God. That’s something I couldn’t do. I just doubted. I mean, the whole God thing—” she shook her head—“it’s just too big, you know. Somebody up there watching over you. It was just more than I could handle.”
No one said anything.
“I didn’t believe in God when the Rapture happened,” Susan said. “But I’m working on believing now. And do you know why?”
The group remained cowed and quiet.
“Because,” Susan said, her voice, breaking, “because I plan to be with my mom again. In heaven. We’re going to finish watching that movie, finish eating that bag of popcorn, and I’m going to tell her I love her again. I will.”
Juan shook his head. “Susan—” he shrugged—“that whole Rapture thing. How can something that big only be known by part of the world? Are you going to tell me something as big as that isn’t going to be in every major religion?”
“Juan, do you know the biggest thing wrong with you?” Susan wiped the tears from her face. “You always have to be right. You always have to think you’ve got all the answers wired. You always have to be the guy in the know.” She took a ragged breath. “Well, you aren’t. If you did, you’d know that what Mrs. Gander is trying to tell you about is the truth. The Rapture did happen. The world will come to an end in seven years. A lot of people are going to die between now and then.”
“The electromagnetic theory—”
“The electromagnetic theory,” Susan shouted, “means that all of those people are
gone,
Juan!
Forever
gone. Is that what you want to believe about your little sister? Do you want to believe that you will never see Luisa again?”
“Maybe there’s a way to reverse it,” Juan said. Pain racked his face and Megan knew he was hurting. “Maybe whoever figures this thing out can bring the people back by dialing in their electromagnetic signatures or something.”
“Juan, this isn’t
Star Trek.
Engineering isn’t going to give you the latest bit of technobabble fluff and a device to save the day. Mrs. Gander is trying to help you to understand what happened. More than that, she’s trying to give you enough information so you can take responsibility for your own life and save yourself.” Susan took a deep breath. “Weren’t you listening? This is the end of the world.
Nobody
gets out alive.”
Megan held her breath. For a moment no one moved.
“You know what?” Juan said finally. “This is crazy. I’m not going to be part of this. The last thing I want to do is step away from the things I know.”
“You already did that,” Susan said. “That night when everyone disappeared.”
“No,” Juan said. “My world’s still here. Just changed a little. I’m going to be all right. But I’m not getting into this weirdness. Somebody’ll figure out what we’re supposed to do. And I guarantee you it’ll be more along the lines of how to take care of the world we got left than it will be to try to get to the next world.” He lifted a hand and waved. “Check you later. I’m outta here.” He turned and walked out the door.
Slowly, other teens joined Juan, following him down the hallway. Megan’s heart turned cold with pain as each one left the room.
But Susan’s words had reached some of them. When the exodus ended, twelve teens remained.
Megan looked at them. Twelve leaders for the twelve books she was able to purchase.
And Jesus had twelve apostles. There were twelve tribes.
Shawn Henderson, Kyle Lonigan, and Geri Krauser stood beside Susan January. The other eight were just as strong.
“Okay,” Megan said, feeling the tightness in her voice. “If you’re ready to begin a deeper study of what lies ahead of us, let’s get started.” She was surprised at how much her legs trembled. “Before we do, I have to admit that this is new to me. I was raised in the church and taught about the Rapture, but I didn’t know anything was going to be expected of me. I really didn’t think I was going to have to deal with anything like this.”
“That’s okay, Mrs. G,” Shawn said, walking forward and taking a seat at the front of the class. “I bet if we all work on it together we’ll come up with something.”
Megan nodded. “You’re right. That’s why I picked the group that was here this morning.”
The other teens all chose seats near the front of the class.
“Don’t you think that’s weird?” Geri asked, flipping through her book and looking around. “We started out with twenty-nine people and ended up with just enough to each get a book.”
“No,” Megan said. “Somehow it just seems right. Maybe the matching numbers is a sign that we’re doing the right thing. That we’re not supposed to set our expectations too high.”
Shawn leafed through the book. “Judging from the response this morning, getting people to believe what’s going on is going to be nearly impossible.”
“That’s all right,” Megan said. “Every journey begins with a single step. We’ll start here today, and every day we’ll try to build.”
“So where do we start?” Kyle asked. “Looks like a lot of material here.”
“With a prayer,” Susan said. “We ask God to bless our efforts, and we ask for His guidance as we try to understand what He’s given us.” She took a deep breath. “That’s where we begin.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Megan said. “Who would like to lead us in prayer?”
“I will,” Kyle Lonigan said. He looked surprised to find that he had spoken. “I pray a lot in football for the team. Make sure nobody gets hurt. That kind of thing.” He hesitated. “I think that’s what we’re looking for here.”
“Thank you, Kyle,” Megan said.
“Okay,” Kyle said, glancing around self-consciously. “A little nervous now. I usually do my praying by myself when nobody’s looking. Let’s stand and join hands.”
Quietly, the group did as he suggested. They formed a circle at the front of the room, heads bowed, and hands clasped.
“God,” Kyle said in a soft voice, “we come to You today to ask your blessing for this undertaking. Help us to see and learn what You would have us see and learn.” He paused. “And help us stay strong, God, because it looks like the way is going to be hard.”
As she listened to Kyle’s prayer, Megan felt a little stronger, a little closer to God. Some of her uncertainty about what she was doing seemed to pass, but there were still so many things she was unsure of.