Infinite Testament (19 page)

X proclaimed, “This room is where I speak to the angel.”

Bruce took his eyes off the X formation and turned toward
X. It was strange how much X trusted him. Big mistake. Bruce
had noticed every opportunity he had to kill him. If Bruce was quick
enough, he could probably reach X’s staff. Even if he didn’t reach it, he
was confident he could take him down. Unfortunately, he wasn’t supposed
to. Not just yet.

A loud skirmish rang out from down the corridor. X
and Bruce heard the raspy sound of screaming. Without hesitation, they both
exited the sacred X room and sprinted down the corridor to get in on the
action. They approached the large, wide-open dome-room.

There, they spotted disciples Chad Kane and John struggling
with an outsider. Chad held Mikey in a headlock. Mikey was wearing
a backwards baseball hat and looked at Bruce, terrified. John held a
knife, eager to use it. Chad yelled, “Fortuitous, isn’t it Bruce?”

“Just let him go, Chad,” Bruce said calmly, trying to
convince his boss at school not to do anything rash.

John salivated. “Let me kill the nigger!” He
gripped his knife with a frightening desire to jab it into Mikey’s skin.

X asked, “What is going on here?”

“We found him snoopin’ around!” Chad yelled, managing to
subdue a struggling Mikey.

Mikey yelled, “Dad, help me!”

X stumbled with surprise. “Dad?”

“He’s my son. Just let him go and he’ll forget all
about this.”

X rebutted, “We can’t trust him to stay quiet.”

“Then make him a god damned disciple!”

X, Chad, and John fell silent. It wasn’t because of
his suggestion to make Mikey a disciple. They fell quiet because Bruce
used God’s name in vain.

X digressed, “We can only have twelve. You know that,
Bruce.”

Chad loosened his grip on Mikey and shoved him to John, who
delightfully put his knife to Mikey’s neck. Mikey stood still and
extended his neck, hoping John wouldn’t kill him.

“Alright, stop!!!” Bruce yelled. He needed to
calm John down or Mikey was dead. Bruce was desperate. He couldn’t
lose his son.

Bruce said, “What would Jesus do, John?”

“God don’t love niggers,” he shot back. His hand
yanked Mikey’s head back, leaving his neck exposed.

X spoke up. “John, stop.”

John had no choice. He obeyed, halting his hand that
was struggling to not slice Mikey open. He wanted to kill him. His
conflicted eyes begged X to allow him to continue. “Please, X. Let
me do it.”

X shook his head. No. He wouldn’t allow it.

Bruce approached John. “Let him go, John. X has
spoken.”

John reluctantly released Mikey, who darted away from him
as fast as he could. As Bruce neared John, he opened his hand.
“Give me the knife.”

“Stupid nigger,” John mumbled as he held out his hand and
offered the knife for Bruce to take.

In a flash, Bruce gripped John’s extended hand. He
twisted John’s wrist and shattered it in an unsustainable direction. The
bones crunched as they split in pieces. Bruce twisted John’s arm behind
his body.

“Close your eyes Mikey!”

Bruce kicked out John’s feet from under him. Since
Bruce had a hold of his arm, John couldn’t break his fall. He smashed to
the ground and banged his face against the steel surface. Bruce grabbed
the knife from the floor and thrust the blade into John’s neck. Bruce
could feel the crunchy collapse under the force of the blade.

John, wide-eyed, didn’t know what hit him. Bruce
maneuvered so quickly, there was no way he could. With a knife sticking
out of his neck, John spit blood from his mouth and awaited death. As
hard as he tried to allow air into his lungs, it couldn’t get past his
collapsed trachea. Mikey looked in horror at the sight of a man he didn’t
know steadily losing his life. He had seen violence before, but never so
graphic, and never by the hands of someone he loved. Mikey looked
nervously at his dad.

Bruce yanked the bloody knife out of John’s neck and rose
from his body. He stared at Chad, who looked back fearfully. Bruce
had never seen so much terror in Chad’s eyes. Bruce scowled and took a
step toward him, prompting him to run away. Coward.

Bruce had the look of a madman. His eyes were deep
and his back was hunched. There wasn’t a person in the world who wouldn’t
be afraid. X smiled. And started to clap. “That’s why I like
you Bruce!”

Bruce was not amused. He didn’t want to kill
John. But if he didn’t, then Mikey was as good as dead. Either by
John’s hands or X’s.

“Now we have room for a twelfth,” Bruce declared. He
tossed the knife away and it skidded across the metal floor. He turned
toward his frightened son and comforted him with a hug.

“I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything,” he whispered
into Mikey’s ear.

Tonight was the night Mikey became a disciple.

Having Mikey in the cult was a disaster. Subjecting
him to such a bizarre group of people was not what Bruce wanted for his son,
but there wasn’t any other choice. Bruce let him in on everything, and
truthfully, it was nice to have a partner. If anyone could be unfazed by
the craziness of it all, it was Mikey.

It was an entire year before the plan to take down X would
go into motion. Bruce and Mikey were at home. Bruce sat on a chair
in the living room while Mikey sat on the floor and furiously pushed buttons on
a video game controller. They attempted to live as normally as they could
without thinking about their secret lives. Bruce read the newspaper,
whose headline read “Half-Billion Suicides Since The ILD”. Poor
Stephen. Bruce tried to warn him. Stephen agreed to keep the ILD
findings under wraps, but for whatever reason, he didn’t. Stephen must’ve
felt an enormous amount of guilt. But he shouldn’t, Bruce surmised.

The doorbell rang. DING DONG. Mikey didn’t
flinch. He kept on with his videogames. “Mikey, grab the door, will
ya?”

No response. Bruce lowered his newspaper. “Hey
Mikey! Go get the door! And turn your hat around!” Mikey
flipped his hat forward and reluctantly stepped away from his videogames.

Mikey flung the door open. There was no one
there. But at his feet sat a shipping box. Mikey picked it up and
read the label.
Bruce Dennett.
“It’s for you Dad.”
Mikey carried the box and put it on the kitchen counter.

“Bring it over here!” Bruce yelled, still confined to his
chair.

Mikey reentered the family room. There was no box in
his hand.

“Damnit Mikey!” Bruce relented and went to the
kitchen. The box sat, waiting for him on the counter. He had no
idea what it could be or who could’ve sent it. The return address in the
top left corner of the box was left blank. Bruce tore open the box.

When he looked inside, he knew it came from Stephen.

The ELPIS box rested inside.

A young blonde girl frolicked outside.
She looked to be about 6 years old and had the most beautiful, entrancing blue
eyes. There was a bright, innocent smile on her face as she ran through a
forest of multi-colored plants. There were bright purple bushes that
towered above her and yellow weeds sprawled below her feet. There were
palm trees that literally sparkled with a red twinkle. It was an
enchanting place. A Garden of Eden. Free of worries. Free of
responsibility.

It was over 3,000 years ago.

The girl approached an open, multi-colored field. To
her young eyes, the rainbow-colored tall grass seemed to extend forever.
It was endless spectacle of blue, green, and all the colors in between ruffling
with the wind. “He’ll never find me in there,” she said to herself,
giggling. She sprinted into the field. Her little legs propelled
her as tall grass whizzed by. The color of the grass cycled as she ran
by. It was like running through a rainbow. When she found a patch
of blue grass, she knelt down. And listened. Was he anywhere
near? The wind blew past, whistling in her ear. The grass collided
with each other, providing a gentle smacking sound. It was quiet enough:
no footsteps.

The blonde girl stood up and leapt into the air. For
the split second her eyes were above the grass, she saw nothing but the
forest. She landed on her feet. And tried again, leaping into the
air. Nothing. She leapt. And leapt. And leapt.
Still nothing. One last try! She leapt again. There he
was! In the distance! He was holding something in his hand but she
couldn’t tell what it was.

“Hey Moros!” She yelled.

Moros turned his head toward the grass. He was small,
and like the blonde girl, only appeared to be around 6 years old. He maintained
a strong jawbone and even as a young boy, was strikingly handsome. “Where
are you?” he yelled back with his high-pitched voice.

“You’ll never find me!”

“I got you something!” Moros countered. He
waited. Surely that would pique her interest. But no answer.

Moros ran into the tall grass. He passed several
colors as he ran through looking for his friend. He stopped, remembering
her favorite color was blue. If he just found some blue grass he would
probably find her.

The blonde girl knelt down, holding her breath as to not
give away her location. She listened attentively. If Moros came
running, she would definitely hear him.

Moros whispered in her ear, “I got you something.”

The girl jumped in surprise and soared to her feet.
“How did you find me?!”

Moros pointed to the blue grass waving behind her.
“Your favorite color!”

The girl laughed. “Soooo….”

Moros held his hands behind his back and tilted his head
forward. “So?”

“What did you get me?”

Moros smiled, revealing his perfectly white teeth.

“Come on, show me!”

“I made it for you,” Moros said. “You’re my best
friend.” Moros pulled his hands from behind his back and revealed what he
had made: a perfectly, well-constructed, small wooden box with the word ELPIS
carved on top. “I carved your name on it!”

Elpis, the blonde girl, smiled as she accepted Moros’s
gift. She unlatched the hook that kept the box shut. Elpis opened
it. It was empty. “There’s nothing in it,” she observed.

“You can put whatever you want in it.”

Elpis looked in the box, wondering what she would put
inside. Something important. Anything less wouldn’t do justice to
Moros’s generous gift. She closed the box.

“I love it.”

Elpis stared deep into Moros’s bright blue eyes.
“You’re my best friend too, Moros.” She looked at the box. Her
fingers rubbed over her carved name. ELPIS. She traced the
letters. It must’ve taken him forever to make.

“I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Elpis threw her arms around Moros and hugged him snuggly.
She rubbed her nose into his shoulder. Moros hugged back. There was
nowhere else they would rather be; they were in love.

Bruce pulled the ELPIS box out of its packaging.
He had no idea why Stephen returned it to him. Nonetheless, he unlatched
it. Just to make sure. He opened it and looked inside.
Yep. They were still inside.

Bruce shut the box. He would put it somewhere safe,
hidden from Mikey and Kristen.

Bruce didn’t know how to take the fact that Stephen mailed
him the box.

Poor Stephen.

It was late at night and tomorrow was the day Bruce and
Mikey were going to destroy X and his cult. In the bedroom, a dim white
light from the moon allowed Bruce to watch over a sleeping Kristen. He
sat at the edge of the bed while she was tucked away in dreamland. She
was serene, unaware of Bruce’s secret life. Despite her endless attempts
to get him to open up, he resisted.

There was no telling what would happen tomorrow. If
everything went to plan, Bruce and Mikey would quietly save the world and once
again be allowed to live a normal life. If they failed, the consequences
would be dire. Bruce had thought about going to the police, the FBI…
somebody. But no one would believe him. His situation was
reminiscent of countless stories he had read. Whenever the main character
knew of a big calamity, there was no way to stop it. No one would believe
him. The only way to save the world from destruction was to do it
yourself.

Bruce gazed at his sleeping wife. Throughout the
years, he had taken her for granted. There was no doubt about that.
To him, she was always 2
^nd
best. Bruce was in love with Sara
Ixley. But at times like these, he didn’t need to look deep to see how
much he loved Kristen. Maybe he didn’t realize it until she disappeared
for two days. Whether or not it was how he had planned it, life played
out this way.

Kristen completed him.

Problem was, she didn’t necessarily know.

Bruce nudged her. “Hey Kristen,” he whispered.

Kristen moaned and spoke indiscernibly. She was sound
asleep. Bruce continued, “Kristen, I need to talk to you.” She
struggled to wake up. She mumbled, “No… Leave Lisa alone…”

“What did you say?”

Kristen’s eyes delicately opened. She was back from
dreamland. “Bruce?”

“What did you just say?”

Kristen shook off the rust of sleep. She was now
fully awake and alert. “I guess I was talking in my sleep.”

Bruce smiled. He scooted closer to her, squishing the
mattress as he moved. He extended his arm and put his hand to her face,
softly rubbing her cheek. “I love you, Kristen.”

Kristen mouthed the words, “I love you.” Bruce gently
curled his fingers through hers.

He whispered, “There are some things I have to tell you.”

But where to start? A story like his was as
unbelievable as any. He could’ve said that Bigfoot and the Lochness
Monster had teamed up with an army of aliens and his story would’ve been just
as believable.

“I have a lot to tell you actually. And you might not
believe most of it.”

Kristen sat up, suddenly attentive. There was a mix
of concern and intrigue that filled her face. “What is it, Bruce?”

“Well... I guess I’ll start back in high
school. Me and Stephen decided to go out to a forest, where we heard
there was some kind of cult…”

And with that, Bruce began the long task of telling Kristen
everything.

Two years earlier, Bruce sat beside a lake.
This particular lake was a poignant place for him. It was the same
lake he stumbled upon on the day of Sara’s funeral. He sat under the same
shade-providing tree, hoping Pocahontas would show up again.

For the first time, he needed to see her.

If anyone knew what was going on, it would be her.

Yesterday, Bruce returned home to find Kristen
missing. Fine, he had thought, she was probably out somewhere and would
return home soon. Nope. He called her cell phone and the sound of
her ringing phone filled the house. She had left it behind. The day
ended and he spent the night in bed alone, without a wink of sleep. Earlier
today, he struggled to remain focused as he taught his classes. He hoped
Kristen would be home when he returned. But still no. He perused
his mind constantly. Did she say something about leaving and he didn’t
catch it? He simply had no idea.

And he was worried sick.

Maybe Bruce was over-worrying, but if anyone had the right
to over-worry, it was him. Tragedy after tragedy kept him on his toes.

Bruce’s eyelids slid down and covered his eyes.
Blackness. He imagined Kristen sitting next to him, under the shade of
the tree. Maybe if he focused hard enough, he could summon her
back. He imagined her flowing blonde hair blowing in the wind as she
looked out at the lake with him. All he had to do was focus. Focus.

“Bruce?” A voice rung out.

It worked! Bruce’s eyes shot open. He saw
Natalie crouched over him, peering to see if her old friend was really in front
of her. She wore an exercise shirt and spandex and was doused in
sweat. She had been running, just like Bruce used to do.

“Natalie?”

“It
is
you!” Natalie plopped herself next to
Bruce and let out a tired sigh. She turned her body and hugged him.
Bruce reciprocated.

Bruce asked, “What are you doing here? What’ve you
been up to?” He could’ve bombarded her with questions; it had been years
since he’d seen her.

“Vince and I recently did some research in the
jungle…” Natalie paused. The look on her face grew worried, as if
she said something she wasn’t supposed to. “We’ve just been doing some…
research.”

“So what are you doing all the way over here?” Bruce asked.

“Vince is here to settle some issue with his brother,
Chad. I hear you work with him.”

“Yes. He’s a wonderful man,” Bruce said
sarcastically.

Natalie caught on, responding just as derisively, “Oh
yeah. Chad’s great isn’t he? Hard to believe Vince’s brother could
be such a jerk.”

They laughed. Bruce looked out at the water as it
gently rippled. He stated, “Kristen’s missing. I don’t know where
she went.” He continued to stare at the water, afraid to make eye contact
with Natalie.

“Were you two fighting?”

“No. Everything was great…” Bruce turned his
head and nimbly connected eyes with her. “I’m really worried about her.”

Natalie put a hand on his shoulder. “As ridiculous as
it may sound to you… pray. You always used to make fun of me for being so
religious, but sometimes when you need someone, it’s nice to know God will
listen.” It was right then Bruce noticed the small cross hanging from her
neck. Natalie continued, “In fact, I would consider going to church for
five minutes and asking God to help you.”

As absurd as the notion seemed to him, Bruce was willing to
listen to anything. He smiled at his old friend. “I’ll consider
it,” he said.

Hours later, all the pews in the local church were empty,
except for one lone person: Bruce. Only under the direst of circumstances
would he ever find himself in a spot such as this. It was deadly silent
inside. He had never been in such quiet. He looked around: there
were plenty of pews, a crucifix hanging in the front, and an altar below
it. Bruce shook his head. What was so great about this place?
Was it supposed to be a direct channel to God’s ear? Anything Bruce said
or did was supposed to immediately reach God? Why couldn’t he have just
prayed anywhere else?

Whatever. He would do what he came to do and
leave. He closed his eyes. And for the first time in his life, he
prayed. His mind spoke, “God, I don’t necessarily know if sitting here
and chatting is going to work. I’m only here because of Natalie, a good
friend of mine… and probably a good friend of yours. I just want my wife
back.” Bruce’s heart ached as memories came pouring back into his
consciousness. Anger took over. “Sara Ixley. You took her
from me. You flat out
stole
her from me. I won’t let you
take Kristen too. So you give her back you selfish son of a bitch.”

A voice rang out. “Bruce.”

Bruce opened his eyes and turned around. It was
her
.
“Pocahontas.”

She stood in the aisle of the church, smiling at
Bruce. Naturally, she looked exactly as he remembered. She had the
same blonde curly hair and blue eyes. Still charmingly attractive.
And she hadn’t aged a second.

Pocahontas chimed, “
Now
I need your help,
Bruce.” She paced toward him, tapping each pew as she made her way toward
where he was sitting.

Bruce wasted no time getting straight to the point.
“Where is Kristen?”

A befuddled look swallowed Pocahontas. Her eyebrows
quivered as she went into deep thought. “She’s gone somewhere?”

Bruce didn’t know if he should buy into her inquiry.
It was entirely feasible she was behind it. “You know nothing about it?”

“No… I had no idea.” Pocahontas seemed
genuinely concerned. She slid into the pew with Bruce and sat close to
him. Though Pocahontas had only spoken with Bruce a few times, she felt a
closeness with him that defied explanation. She asked, “Why are you
here?”

“I came to pray, I guess.”

Pocahontas nodded. “Makes sense.” Bruce
couldn’t tell if she was serious or being sarcastic. She continued, “I
was thinking about what you said last time I saw you. If I’m asking for
your help, maybe it would be best if I told you
everything
. Or at
least enough for you to understand…”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He peered into
Pocahontas’s spectacular blue eyes. She continued, “I should tell you who
I am. My name is… Elpis.”

Bruce’s jaw dropped. A million thoughts raced through
his mind. The ELPIS box. Sara’s last words to him, ‘You need to
listen to Elpis’. But Sara told him to stay away from the girl who gave
him the ring. Why would she say that? Bruce had purposely stayed
away from Stephen just to defy ‘Pocahontas’. It was a wasted
effort. Could he trust her?

‘You need to listen to Elpis’. Sara’s last words…

So ELPIS was Pocahontas. Elpis was… a girl.

“You’re Elpis?” Bruce asked.

“Yes.” She smiled again. Always so
cheerful. She glowed with friendliness every time Bruce had seen
her. He needed to ask her about the box. But first thing’s
first. Bruce said, “I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”

“Your friend Stephen has made a dangerous discovery.
No one can ever find out about it. If word gets out, a plan will be put
into motion. And then we’ll have to take drastic measures.”

Bruce was baffled. Why did she have to be so
cryptic? “What are you talking about?”

“When the Universe comes to its certain end, everything
starts over and repeats exactly as it did before. Do you know what that
means, Bruce?”

Bruce shook his head.

“You will live this same life again. We will have
this same conversation again. And you can’t change that.”

Bruce’s mind reeled. You can’t change it? …No
choice in life?

Elpis continued, “Stephen has made this discovery, albeit
with some help. If he releases these findings, everything will fall
apart. You’re smart Bruce. Just imagine it. If everyone knew
they could come back again…”

The dangers of the discovery became apparent to
Bruce. Mass chaos. But not being able to change a decision that’s
already been made countless times before? That seemed like
predestination. Bruce didn’t totally buy it. But, he realized,
neither would a lot of people. And that’s where the danger lied.

“So we can’t change anything… ever?”

Elpis shook her head. “No…” She snapped her
mouth shut, wary of continuing. She didn’t want to tell Bruce certain
things. But she needed him on her side. “But… it
has
happened before. There was a change. Once. All this… you, me,
this place … originally… never happened. For billions of cycles of the
Universe, the world was destroyed thousands of years ago. At least, we
assume it was billions of cycles. It could have been one, a hundred, who
knows. But this wasn’t the original history of the Universe. It was
changed. And it has played out this way ever since.

“We’re here now because one person figured out a way to
change the repeated course of history. To free us from re-living the same
doom over and over again.”

“How did he do that?”

Elpis shook her head. “I don’t know. Nobody
knows.”

“Who was it?”

Elpis turned her head forward and her eyes shot straight
ahead of her. She nodded as if she was pointing ahead with her
eyes. Bruce glanced in the direction of where she was looking.

The cross. With Jesus hanging on it.

Elpis said, “It was him.”

Bruce looked at Elpis. She wasn’t kidding.
Elpis admirably gazed at the crucifix. The all-too familiar sight of
Jesus wearing a crown of thorns nailed to a cross touched her. It should
have been a sobering sight. But it was a constant reminder of his
sacrifice and triumph.

Elpis, nearly in a daze, refocused her attention to
Bruce. “You need to convince Stephen, anyway you can, to keep
quiet. If it doesn’t work… then we’ll have to do something else.”

“What if I fail?”

“I’ll find you,” she replied.

Elpis gently put her hand in Bruce’s and curled her fingers
through his. Bruce squeezed. The odd connection between them was
undeniable. They both felt it. Elpis scooted closer to Bruce and
rested her head on his shoulder.

She whispered, “Thank you, Bruce”

He had seen her only a limited number of times. But
somehow, they were like old, lifelong friends. He rested his head on
hers. There were endless questions he wanted to ask. He wanted to
tell her about the box.

But not now.

The peaceful church allowed the two weary souls to
rest. The crucifix, suddenly more meaningful, hung glaringly, overlooking
Bruce and Elpis.

Bruce tried his best to tell everything to Kristen.
Unfortunately,
everything
was simply too much. He had tried to
shield Mikey from it and was unable. Now, he would have to spare Kristen.
Though he couldn’t tell her everything, he was able to tell her enough.