Eli (27 page)

“Why not?”

“What about the Law of Moses? The Scriptures?”

“They are being fulfilled.”

“How?”

“Through me.”

Karen Deutsch hesitated, unsure how to continue. “Eli, only God can forgive sin.”

“That’s right.”

“Are you . . . are you claiming to be God?”

He leaned toward her slightly. “Listen to me very carefully, Karen. Before the Scriptures were written, before the Law was given, before Moses or anyone else existed . . . I am.”

“Eli . . . are you saying you’re God?”

Eli paused just long enough to make sure his answer was clearly understood. And then he repeated the words: “I am.”

Conrad, Karen Deutsch, Ellen, McFarland, the crew, the entire room stared in absolute astonishment and stunned shock.

v

Julia’s eyes had barely closed before the early morning sun was blazing into the room. Disoriented, she bolted up and looked around as reality slowly filtered in. She was back in the bedroom of her childhood—that warm, safe place that had been the center of the universe for so many years. It had hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 206

206 gone through several transformations since she’d left . . .

sewing room, TV room, rec room, and depending on whom her father was married to at the time, the bedroom of various step-siblings. But, first and foremost, it was hers. It would always be hers.

She eased herself back down onto the pillow, snuggling between the sheets, hoping for a few more moments of peace.

But peace did not come. Instead, she remembered that today was the day. Today was the day she would decide if her father lived or died.

Wearily, she rose from the bed. In record time she showered and slipped into the same business suit she’d worn the day before. She shuffled into the kitchen and rummaged around the cupboards until she found a box of snack bars.

She took two.

“I’ll do the dishes when I get back.”

“You’ll do no such thing, young lady.”

“Mom . . . they’re waiting.”

“Then they’ll have to wait just a little bit longer.”

“I’ll do them when I get back.”

“Julia . . .”

Ignoring her, Julia started out of the kitchen.

“Julia!”
Her mother grabbed her arm.

“Let go!”

“You will not leave this house until you do those dishes!”

She whirled around at her.
“You can’t tell me what to do!

You don’t own me!”

There was no missing the surprise on her mother’s face.

“Julia!”

“You’re not my boss!”

“Jul—”

“That’s why Daddy left! Isn’t it? All you did was boss him
around! Well, I’m not being bossed around. Not by you. Not
by some stupid old cow who—”

Her mother’s slap came so fast that both of them were shocked.

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Julia was the first to recover, her eyes brimming with tears.
“It’s you!”
she blurted.
“You’re why he left! It’s not me,
it’s you! You’re why he doesn’t want to come home!”

Suddenly her mother’s face filled with understanding.

“Oh, Julia . . .”

Julia took a step back.
“It’s not me, it’s you! You made him
leave. You’re why he doesn’t love us!”

“Julia . . .”
Her mother was reaching out.

She pushed her hands away.
“It’s you, it’s you, it’s—”

“Julia . . .”

“It’s you, it’s you—”

At last her mother grabbed her hands, pulling them down, wrapping her arms around her.
“Oh, Julia . . . Julia, Sweetheart . . .”

The fight had drained from her, and she melted into her mother’s embrace, sobbing.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart,”
her mother soothed,
“it’s okay.”

“Why, Momma?”
she wailed
. “Why did he leave us?”

“Shhh, baby. It’s okay.”

“How could he leave—”
She took a shuddering breath
.

“How could he leave and make memories with someone
else!”

“I don’t know.”
Her mother was crying too.

“How could he—”

“I don’t know, baby.”

“How could he . . . how could he . . .”

Julia leaned against the kitchen counter a moment longer, lost in the memory. Then, cursing herself for her softness, she straightened and headed out of the kitchen to gather her things.

It was time to leave. Time to make a decision. And the sooner the better.

v

“I just think you made a mistake when you asked me to come along.”

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“Why’s that?” Eli asked.

“Every time you turn around, I’m disagreeing with you.”

“That’s all part of the process, Connie.”

“Process?”

“The dying process. You heard me say that the first day we met. Unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it cannot bear fruit.”

“But does it always . . .” Conrad took a weary breath.

“Does it always have to be so difficult?”

Eli chuckled as they continued traipsing up the Arkansas mountain. Actually, to call it a mountain might be an exag-geration; it was more like a very large hill near the base of the Ozarks, not far from Fort Smith. Once again, the air hung heavy with humidity, causing Conrad to drip in perspiration while struggling to catch his breath. Then, of course, there were the insects. A recent bout with chiggers had left his ankles raw and itching. Today’s specialties seemed to be flies and mosquitoes. But Conrad was not complaining. He was glad to be here. Jake and his brother, Robert, followed several steps behind. They were the only ones from the group who had been invited. For whatever reason, Eli had felt the need to spend special time with the three of them this afternoon.

Eli continued. “All your life, you’ve been taught to think with fleshly logic. And, admittedly, you’ve become quite good at it. But you’re more than flesh, Connie. You’re spirit. And to understand things of the Spirit, you must die and be reborn in spirit.”

“You’re not suggesting that I crawl back in my mother’s womb and start at the beginning, are you?”

Eli smiled. “Not physically. But in many ways you
have
had to start at the beginning.”

“Learning these ‘Kingdom of God’ principles,” Conrad said.

Eli nodded.

“That’s what I’m talking about. It seems I no sooner get a handle on one of those principles than you turn around and hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 209

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raise the stakes on me. I mean, first there’s this business of you being the only way to the Father. Then that our method of doing things is all backwards compared to yours, then this business of losing our lives to find it. And now your claims of actually being God?”

“It’s not so easy to accept, is it?”

“Or to live. But when I finally make the leap and try to embrace these things, you raise the bar again . . . and then again.”

There was a moment of silence before Eli finally spoke.

“Connie, when I left Heaven and took on your humanity, it was to cleanse you and draw you closer to my Divinity. I don’t want you reborn but then walking around like a baby the rest of your life. I want you reborn so you can become a mature man of God. I want you to be led by the Spirit, not your flesh.

I want you to become like me.”

Conrad snorted in disbelief. “There’s no way I’ll ever be like you.”

“If you keep saying yes to me, that’s exactly what you’ll become.”

Conrad looked at him.

“Those are your options,” Eli said. “You can become more and more like me, or you can continue crawling around like a baby, reborn but never maturing. The choice is yours.”

“Choices,” Conrad mused, as he grabbed a twig from a rhododendron and began to methodically snap it. “You’re always forcing us to make choices.”

“That’s the game plan, my friend—encouraging you to choose my way over your way, to choose my wisdom over the world’s wisdom . . . to choose my Spirit over your flesh. It’s all a matter of choice.”

“You sound like a professor friend of mine back in California.”

“Dr. Endo?”

Conrad’s mouth opened. “You know him?”

“Of course I know him.”

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“About his theories? You’re familiar with parallel universes?”

“Familiar with them?” Eli grinned. “I created them.”

Conrad slowed to a stop. “Then you know . . .” He fought to keep his voice level. “You know about the car accident?”

Eli smiled warmly. “I was there when you cried out to me, Connie. I was there when you
chose
to seek my help.”

Conrad remained staring, slack jawed. But before he could recover, Eli turned back to Jake and Robert. “Okay, guys, this looks as good a place as any. Let’s stop here.”

The two men came to a halt beside them.

“Hey, Connie,” Jake asked, “you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Conrad turned to him. He tried to nod, but wasn’t sure he succeeded. He glanced about. It appeared that they’d reached the top of the mountain. They were in a small clearing, not more than fifteen feet by twenty. Through the spruce and pines, he caught glimpses of the valley stretching out below—

mostly bluegrass and pastureland. A warm breeze crawled up the side of the mountain, barely brushing against them and having absolutely no effect upon the number of insects.

“I’m about to make an important decision,” Eli said, throwing an amused glance at Conrad, “a very important
choice.
But I want to make certain it’s my Father’s will. I want to make certain I’m hearing Him correctly as we enter this last phase of my work.”

“Last phase?” Robert asked.

Eli nodded. “The phase that will bridge the gap everyone is so concerned about, the gap between my Father’s holiness and His mercy.” Eli hesitated, perhaps hoping for some response. There was none . . . well, except for Jake, who could never endure any silence for too long.

“What’s that got to do with us?” he asked.

Conrad saw disappointment flicker across Eli’s eyes.

Then, just as quickly, it disappeared. “I brought you up here because I’d like you to pray with me.”

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“That’s it?” Robert asked. “We came all the way up here just to pray?”

“It’s the most important thing you can do, Robert, and up here there will be no distractions.”

“Sure.” Jake shrugged. “We can do that.”

Robert agreed. “No problem.”

Eli nodded, a trace of the sadness returning. “How about over there?” he said, pointing to a fallen log resting near the edge of the clearing.

They strolled to it, then sat down, stretching out and making themselves comfortable on the thick carpet of pine needles. Well, all except for Eli. He seemed anything but comfortable. A little agitated, maybe. A little concerned, absolutely. But definitely not comfortable.

Once they had settled in, Eli waited a long moment. When no one volunteered to start, he began. He prayed on his knees.

He usually did. It was a ritual of his that everyone had grown accustomed to. “Father . . . Father, we thank You for Your unfathomable goodness to us. Thank You for loving me, thank You for loving these friends You have given me . . . more than they even love themselves. And, Father, we thank You for Your faithfulness, that You can always be trusted, no matter what the . . .”

Conrad tried to pay attention and focus upon the prayer, but it was no use. His mind continued to swim with Eli’s last words about parallel universes . . . and about his accident. The accident he’d nearly forgotten—and for good reason. Everything had returned to normal. Well, everything but Conrad’s life. Thanks to Eli, that seemed to have changed radically.

He readjusted himself, leaning against the fallen log, waving off the droning bugs, and finally finding a comfortable spot in the needles. What had Suzanne said—
“Look where
you are, look how far you’ve come?”
Dear, sweet Suzanne.

She’d only been gone six days, but it felt like a month. They’d e-mailed several times, called almost as many. Michael had taken a turn for the worse. In fact, it was doubtful he’d make hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 212

212 it through the night. Once again Suzanne had pleaded with Eli to come, and once again he had refused, always with the same explanation . . . “It has to be this way for God’s glory. It’s better that I don’t come.”

Conrad shook his head. It seemed so unfair. Eli was so quick to reach out and assist strangers, like that cat woman on the overpass. But when it came to those he was closest to, who loved him the deepest, he seemed to actually withhold that help. It reminded him of Coach Simmons back in high school, the track coach who, after sending the rest of the team to the showers, kept his star athletes and made them run one more lap. Even when they insisted they couldn’t take another step, he ordered them to go one more. That’s how it was with Eli . . . one more lap, one more test, one more inch of growth.

“I don’t want you crawling around like a baby the rest of your
life . . .”

Conrad wasn’t sure when he’d dozed off, but he knew when he awoke. For there, not fifteen feet in front of him, stood Eli. At least he thought it was Eli. It was hard to tell from the blinding whiteness of his clothes. They were as bright as the sun. So bright that it was nearly impossible to see his face. And standing there beside him were two others, clothed in equal brightness. At first Conrad thought they might be angels. But he saw no wings. Weren’t angels supposed to have wings? He wasn’t sure. But he was sure that they looked like men, like Eli except older. And, instead of jeans and T-shirts, they appeared to be wearing robes.

Neither of them noticed Conrad, Jake, or Robert. They were too deep in discussion with Eli—something about death and his fear of being “cut off from the Father.” The two seemed to understand, and although it was impossible to tell who was speaking and to whom, the voices kept reassuring Eli that he was in “the center of the Father’s will.”