Redemption (43 page)

Kit’s eyes drifted to the cabin door. “Was I?”

“You’ve done it before.”

“Here?” Kit said, turning back to Jane.

Jane nodded. “What do you see...that makes you cry?”

Kit shook her head, but her eyes revealed the edge of an otherworldly secret to Jane.

Jane woke several times during the night. When she wasn’t mentally wrestling with the disjointed, violent dream she’d had concerning Charlotte, she was attempting to digest the threecheese pizza they’d ordered for dinner. By three A.M., Jane decided it was better to get up than battle her head and belly. She crossed toward her laptop, stepping on the piece of jade she’d flung onto the floor. Picking up the stone and carrying her computer into the bathroom, Jane shut the door behind her so as not to awaken Kit. She sat down on the toilet and waited for the computer to boot up, giving the jade a cursory examination. The laptop toned, signaling it was ready. Perhaps it was the early hour or just Jane’s
normal probing self, but she logged on to the Internet and typed the words: “Jade Metaphysical properties” into the search engine. A cavalcade of Web sites appeared. She selected one and scrolled past the drier information that discussed the mineral components. Under the header, Metaphysical Properties, it read: “Jade is the dream stone. Meditating with this stone can bring the realization of one’s life purpose. If one remembers their dreams when using this stone, the information they receive can solve problems in their life.” Jane nearly fell off the toilet as she read the words. Her logical mind screamed that it was some kind of odd coincidence. But there was no denying the unearthly visions her subconscious mind concocted.

Jane opted to log on to the Ministry Forum, figuring a dose of good ol’ fashioned hellfire and brimstone would ground her troubled thoughts. She was surprised to see that the thread, “The Power of Sacrifice” had an additional five postings since she’d left her acerbic response the day before. Jane selected the thread and scrolled down to the new posts. Posters with the names Daniel, Matthew, Joshua, and Timothy had responded to Jane’s posting, continuing the Lamb of God’s penchant for Biblical monikers. Each of them offered their own treacle-rich retort. However, the final poster—the ever-loquacious Manul.Crst.123—spoke more personally to “Mary.mog.”

Jane stared at the screen dumbfounded. She started to log off the Forum, but then stopped. For some odd reason, this person seemed to truly care. While Jane wasn’t one for bearing her soul, it was late and she couldn’t sleep, so she figured “What the hell.”

Jane read back her post. She was startled by her words and the lingering hatred that entangled them. Yet there was a certain therapeutic freedom in exposing herself under an assumed name. The catharsis served its purpose, but she wasn’t ready to reveal her raw emotions to the faceless masses of the Ministry Forum. She scrolled up to the DELETE TEXT button but, in her tiredness, she mistakenly hit the POST button. Within seconds, her vulnerable declaration scrolled onto the screen for all to read. Jane felt a stunned, sinking sensation take hold. There was nothing left to do but close her computer and go back to bed.

She awoke as the morning light cut through the sliver of curtain. Her stomach still felt dicey from the pizza. Kit lay sound asleep. Jane started a strong brew of coffee and checked the cloudy weather outside before changing into her jogging outfit. The first few sips of coffee jolted her back into her body, quelling the queasiness. She was lacing her running shoes when the wind kicked up and the sky gave way outside, dumping a flood of rain against the cabin. Jane lay on her bed, feeling thwarted by the inclement weather. She withdrew a few issues of
The Congregation Chronicle
from her satchel and flipped through the 1989 issue that featured “The Hammer of God Will Fall on All Sinners” article. Jane noted her circled footnote on one page that read: “Members must seriously study the book of Isaiah as it outlines the signs of the end times....” She opened the top drawer of the bed table and found the ubiquitous Gideon Bible. Turning on the table lamp, she located Isaiah and started reading.

“You’re not getting religious on me, are you?”

Jane looked up to find Kit peering at her with sleepy eyes. “It’s just research,” Jane said with a coy smile.

Kit yawned. “Learning anything?”

“I’m learning that if you’re a member of the Lamb of God Congregation, you’re taught that the road to redemption is fraught with pain, suffering, and sacrifice.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kit said, still in a sleepy stupor. “It’s all about struggle, denial of carnal needs, infusing the person with guilt if they feel human desires....”

“You mean sexual desires?”

Kit jokingly put her finger to her mouth. “Shhhh. Just saying such a thing could bring a beefy young man with a lovely package right to our door...and I’m not dressed properly for such an occasion.”

Jane chuckled at Kit’s mischievous comeback. “Why did Bartosh chose the name ‘Lamb of God’?”

Kit rolled on her back. “The Lamb of God is the Messiah. I think Bartosh wanted to personify the Messiah, or Jesus, through
his Congregation. But the lamb is also mentioned throughout the Bible as a sacrifice.” Jane’s ears perked up when Kit mentioned the word “sacrifice.” “While I’m not a Biblical scholar, I remember bits and pieces from Sunday School. Lambs are sacrificed throughout the Bible. Jesus, the Lamb of God, would one day be sacrificed. It’s a metaphor. It’s all prophesized in Genesis. Abraham was told by God to sacrifice his son, Isaac ‘on the mount of the Lord.’”

“Yeah, I remember that one. Cut his throat. Nice visual.”

“One can’t look at these things literally. Those who believe in the more literal Word of God argue that God was willing to sacrifice His own Son to save the world. Thus, we should be willing to make sacrifices of equal proportion. With Abraham, it was a test to prove his love for God, but God stopped him before he sacrificed his beloved son. The irony, of course, was that on that same mountain outside Jerusalem, 2,000 years later, God allowed
His
beloved Son to be sacrificed for Mankind. So, you see? The mountain was Divinely connected between one Father and another.”

“God, Kit, you sound like you buy into all this.”

“I think the connection of the mountains is intriguing. I like stories that come full circle.” Kit thought for a moment. “And really, sacrifice is misunderstood. To sacrifice your life for Mankind... there’s beauty in that. To sacrifice your life to save another, even one...there must be some honor in that.” Kit looked deeply into Jane’s eyes. “You understand that feeling, don’t you? You were willing to protect your brother as a child at the expense of your own safety or life. There was no question, was there? You would have sacrificed your life for him.”

Jane’s memory flashed back to that dark, defining day. “I almost did.”

Kit cradled Jane’s hands. “You
understand
. That’s very important to me.”

The rain stopped falling. “I’m going for a run. We should get moving soon.”

“I’ll let you ride solo today,” Kit said, rubbing the back of her neck.

Jane felt her gut pinch. “What’s wrong?”

A smile creased across Kit’s face. “Oh, please. Get that worried look off your face. I have good days and bad days. Today feels like it’s not going to be a good one. Pizza is not on my holistic cancer diet. I need to rest, take some herbs, and meditate. Which reminds me, where’s my jade?”

Jane recovered the gemstone from the bureau and handed it to Kit. “You know where I got this?” Kit asked, holding up the green stone. Jane shook her head. “I found it in the cove near my house in Big Sur. Well, I
did
live in Jade Cove! There’s pockets of it all along the ridge and down by the creek. It’s a powerful stone.”

Jane agreed with the “powerful” description, but she wasn’t about to share her disturbing dream with Kit. She ran her usual circle, keeping a sharp eye out for Clinton and his SUV. Before coming up on the Cabins, a thought crossed Jane’s mind. She couldn’t believe she was entertaining the notion. Looking around to make sure nobody could see her, Jane turned and proceeded to walk backward for the remaining part of her morning constitutional. By the time she got back to the cabin, she felt pain-free.

 

 

Jane popped the cassette tape from her interview with Bartosh into her car’s player and headed out of the Cabins’s parking lot.

“Do you believe in signs, Mrs. Lightjoy?”

Hearing Bartosh’s voice again was strangely unsettling for Jane.

“Of course,” Jane said on the tape.

“They are all around us. At no other time in history have the signs been so unmistakable that we are on the eve of Armageddon....”

The dark clouds pulled together overhead as Jane turned onto the main road. Her first stop would be a furtive drive past Rachel Hartly’s house to see if there was any sign of Lou or his motorcycle.

“Our children have forsaken Him because the secular elitists in power have allowed darkness, disparity, paganism, occultism....”

Jane drowned out Bartosh’s voice as she cruised down the road. She factored what she would do if she found Lou or his motorcycle at Rachel’s house.

“Christians have become the most persecuted people on this earth. The wonder-working power of Jesus is defiled. His sacrifice is spit upon. We cannot depend upon the sideliners to bring the children back to Him....”

Jane turned down the volume, unable to take anymore of Bartosh’s dogma. Within minutes, she was in eyesight of Rachel’s house. The weather decided her next course of action, as another onslaught of precipitation poured down on the Mustang. She squinted through the windswept rainstorm, trying to focus on the hillside house. From what she could tell, there was no sign of a baby blue motorcycle.

Jane headed back down the road and onto the main drag. Traffic was thick. Jane surmised it had to be the tourists heading back home after the New Year’s holiday. She turned up the volume on the tape.

“...
the change must take place with our children
. If they are not taught to fear God and worship His name, we are destined to live in the abyss and subsist on the pustules of Lucifer for eternity....”

Jane changed lanes in an attempt to make better time, but traffic moved at a snail’s pace. A soft rain fell against her windshield as the wipers swept back and forth in a syncopated beat. Bartosh’s voice seemed to draw her into a slight stupor.

“Do you have any daughters?” Bartosh asked Jane.

“No. Two sons.”

“God has blessed you.”

The rain pelted the windshield with greater conviction.

“Were you and your wife so blessed?”

“Yes. A daughter.... But she’s no longer with us.... She’s in Lucifer’s hands now.”

Jane’s focused on the mass of traffic in front of her. She glanced at the bumper sticker on the truck in front of her, trying to read the faded words. Her eyes traveled across the blur of vehicles until they rested on a white dove bumper decal peeking out from the vehicle two cars ahead in the next lane over.

Bartosh’s voice resonated in the background. “The Lord will knock on the door of your heart and all you need to do is answer and obey His Law. Those who refuse will experience the hammer of God and live forever in the pit of darkness.”

White dove. Her mind felt as though it was falling into a trance. Jane stopped the tape and rolled down her window to force in the cold air. Still not able to move in the stalled traffic, she lit a cigarette and took a generous drag. It grounded her. Her eyes traveled again to the white dove decal. The vehicle gradually moved forward a foot in the next lane. That’s when she saw the baby blue paint and the motorcycle. The rider wore a black helmet that obscured his face, but the body matched that of a man in his early thirties. She dug her hand into her satchel, searching for the scrap of paper that held the specific license plate number. She found it and compared the number with the motorcycle in front of her. This wasn’t a dream. She was within spitting distance of Lou Peters.

Jane checked her side mirror in an attempt to change lanes. The driver of the vehicle beside her allowed her to cut in. Glancing back at the courteous driver, she saw Clinton Fredericks’s beaming face smiling back at her. Seated next to him was another man. And he was pointing a video camera directly at Jane’s car.

CHAPTER 28

“For God’s sake!” Jane yelled with frustration. The traffic started to move and Jane made a knee-jerk decision. Seeing an open slot in the oncoming traffic, she barreled around the car in front of her, forcing the Mustang directly behind Lou. Not to be outdone, Clinton swerved his black SUV in the same manner and tried to cut in behind Jane. It was a move that Jane was sure would attract attention, and the last thing she wanted right now was for Lou to be aware of her subterfuge. “Fuck you, Clinton!” Jane exclaimed, slamming her hand on the steering wheel. Traffic suddenly opened up. Lou slipped into the right lane and expertly wove a forward path between the cars. Jane gunned the Mustang into the right-hand lane, enduring the vocal wrath of more than one unhappy driver. Lou made good progress up the main drag, but Jane still had him in clear sight. The bottleneck cleared up and Lou gunned his engine. Jane forced her way into the left lane and back again into the right, at one point riding the curb to get around vehicles. This enticed Clinton, who indiscriminately followed Jane’s erratic actions with his SUV.