The Vanishings (10 page)

“No, sir.”

“Well, it’s—jes’ a minute, son. . . . Yeah, OK. . . . Listen, Ryan, you have friends or relatives there that can look after you for a while?”

Ryan wanted to blurt that he had just seen his dad’s name on a list of air crash victims, but he didn’t. “Why?”

“Son, I hate like everything to tell you this over the phone, but your mother didn’t make it. The county morgues are full, so one is being set up at Maine East High School in Park Ridge, not far from the hospital. You’ll want to get someone to get you over here in a day or two for identification, but don’t try to come right away.”

Ryan couldn’t speak.

Sergeant Flanigan apologized again. “I’m
sorry, son. You’re sure you’ve got someone there to take care of you?”

But Ryan hung up. Was it possible that the people who had believed in Jesus had been taken to heaven, just like Raymie had tried to tell him? He and his parents and Captain Steele had been left behind, but now both his parents were dead. What was he going to do?

Ryan had no idea, but he was going to try one thing. Raymie’s church was less than a mile away. Ryan wasn’t in a hurry. He just wanted to walk and think and cry. If anyone was left at that church, Ryan might be able to find some help.

“EVERYTHING
all right at your place, Judd?” a neighbor called out as Judd Thompson headed around to the back of the house.

“Don’t know yet,” Judd hollered.

In truth, of course, he did know. He knew exactly what he would find in that house. The buzz of the champagne was long gone, and he felt suddenly foolish with his scraggly goatee, his wallet full of cash, and that top-of-the-line credit card.
Aren’t I something?
He asked himself.
Big man. Big criminal. Big shot. Now I’m an orphan.
He felt like a child, despite his sixteen years.

Judd ran upstairs and checked Marcie’s room first. She was the persnickety one, the one who always kept her room just so, dolls lined up in a row, her schoolbooks and the next day’s clothes laid out neatly. Two tiny
barrettes lay in the dent in the pillow her dark-haired head had left. Judd pulled back the covers, revealing her nightie.

In Marc’s room, was which almost as messy as Judd’s own, he found socks and underpants in the bed.

He glanced at his own room before heading down to the master bedroom. His parents had been in there, that was clear. They had gone through his stuff, looking for clues to where he might be. Maybe they had called the library to check on him. Somehow, they had figured it out, but he had left no clues in his bedroom. Fooling them, tricking them, putting one over on them had seemed so cool when he was on his way to O’Hare. Now he felt like an idiot.

Judd had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he descended the stairs. He wanted his little brother and sister and his parents to be with Jesus, of course. That was what they wanted, what they talked about, what they looked forward to. But he didn’t want to be alone, either.

He slipped into his parents’ bedroom, where the curtains were closed and it was dark. He didn’t turn the light on, letting his eyes grow accustomed to the darkness. Judd shut the door and leaned back against it, feeling weak. He hadn’t slept much on the plane,
and now he was paying for the nervous energy that had kept him awake.

Judd was stunned to see that his parents’ bed was still made. Could it be? Was it possible they had not been taken? No! It couldn’t be! He whipped the covers back and saw no bedclothes. He looked around the room, now turning on the light. His mother’s robe was draped over a chair. This made no sense. He found his father’s robe in the closet and held out a flicker of hope. But what was he hoping? That his little brother and sister had been taken and his parents had not?

He ran to the living room, where the truth quickly became clear. The phone receiver was on the floor. From the positions of his parents’ sets of clothes, it was obvious they had changed back into them when they realized they might have to drive somewhere to look for him. His dad’s jeans and pullover shirt and shoes were in a pile near the phone. His mother’s casual outfit lay in a chair where she had been sitting.

Judd returned the phone to its cradle and scooped up the clothes. He sat with them in his lap and smelled the faint scent of his dad’s cologne and his mother’s perfume. And he cried. They loved him so much, cared for him, worried about him. And look how he had treated them. He held their clothes close
to his chest and closed his eyes, realizing he had gotten just what he deserved.

His mother had told him and told him that Jesus was coming again and that it could happen in Judd’s lifetime. He knew that was what his church taught, but it had seemed so preposterous. Well, not any more. It had happened, and he had been left behind. What was he going to do?

Judd knew there would be no sleeping, tired as he was. He had to think about how he was going to get the car back from O’Hare. When would that be possible?

What he should do, he knew, was go to his church. His church. He hadn’t called New Hope Village Church his own church since he was in elementary school. Who would be left there? Was he the only member who didn’t go to heaven? He felt alone in the world, not just in this house. He decided to call the church, just to see if anyone else was around.

The voice on the New Hope answering machine was the visitation pastor’s, a man named Bruce Barnes, who had been there for several years. It was clear from the message that he had been left behind too!

“You have reached New Hope Village Church. We are planning a weekly Bible study, but for the time being we will meet
just once each Sunday at 10
A.M.
While our entire staff, except me, and most of our congregation are gone, the few of us left are maintaining the building and distributing a videotape our senior pastor prepared for a time such as this. You may come by the church office anytime to pick up a free copy, and we look forward to seeing you Sunday morning.”

Judd didn’t want to wait. He looked for his mother’s keys and backed her car out of the garage, only to go a couple of blocks and find all the roads blocked. He returned to get his little brother’s bike. He was way past feeling self-conscious. He was on his way to church, and for the first time in as far back as he could remember, he really wanted to get there.

When Ryan Daley came within view of New Hope Village Church, he didn’t know what to think. He had been in a church a couple of times in his twelve years, but not this one. A big, dark-haired kid on a small bike came pedaling past him. They looked at each other but didn’t speak. Ryan had never seen him before.

The big kid let his bike fall near the front door and hurried in. Ryan was in no hurry. He didn’t know who or what he was looking for. By the time he got into the building, the kid who had been on the bike was talking to a man in his thirties with curly hair and wire-rimmed glasses.

“Can I help you, son?” the man asked, seeing Ryan over Judd’s shoulder.

Ryan couldn’t get the words out. How were you supposed to ask if it was true, if Jesus had taken his people to heaven?

“Did you lose some family?” the man said.

Ryan nodded. “They died,” he managed.

“No, they are in heaven with Jesus.”

“They didn’t get taken,” Ryan insisted. “My dad died in a plane crash and my mom in a car accident.”

Bruce approached and reached for Ryan. The boy felt self-conscious, but he let the man hug him. “My name is Bruce Barnes,” he said. “I’m the only person left from the staff of this church, and I know exactly what happened. I’m going to teach a small group of young people here soon, and you’re welcome to stay.”

“You’re going to teach?”

Bruce nodded. “I know what happened because I missed it. I have a tape from the
senior pastor that will help explain. Is that something you’d be interested in?”

Ryan nodded. So did the big kid, whom Bruce introduced as someone from the church family named Judd Thompson. They shook hands. Ryan didn’t know any other kids as old as Judd, except for a few cousins in California.

Bruce said he was expecting two more kids to show up. “I got a call from a girl named Vicki Byrne. I invited her, and she called back later to say she had invited a boy named Lionel Washington. When we’re all here, we’ll get started. I want to tell you my story.”

When Vicki and Lionel arrived, Bruce took the four of them into a small office where he had set up a VCR and a TV. “You’re not going to understand everything the pastor says,” Bruce said, “but still you’ll be astounded that he knows what’s going on, even though he’s gone. More important, you need to know that I have the same story you do.

“I lost my wife and my young children. They disappeared from their beds, and I knew immediately that I had been living a lie. I had been to Bible college and was a pas
tor, but I always thought I could get by, living for myself and never making the decision to receive Christ. Judd, I know you and your family. I’m surprised to see you here, but I’m not surprised the rest of your family is gone. You know what happened, don’t you?”

Judd nodded miserably. Bruce asked the others to share their stories. They cried when they spoke, and they cried when they listened. They had been thrust together by a tragedy none of them could have ever expected.

“I know it’s hard for you to grasp right now,” Bruce said, “but I have good news for you. The question you all must have now is whether there is any hope for you. You missed Christ when he came, but you are not lost forever. We’re going to live through some awful days and years, but the Bible is clear that there will be a great soul harvest during this time. People can still become believers and be assured of heaven when they die.

“That won’t take away your sorrow, your grief, or your loneliness. I can’t even imagine a day when I won’t cry over what I’ve lost. But now I don’t apologize for telling everybody who comes in here how they can receive Christ. It’s really quite simple. God
made it easy. If you want to hear this, just say so, and I’ll walk you through it.”

Vicki raised a hand. “Are you saying that if we had done this before, we wouldn’t have been left behind?”

Bruce nodded.

“And now we can still get to heaven when we die?”

He nodded again. “Everybody want to hear this?” They all nodded. “First,” he said, “we have to see ourselves as God sees us. The Bible says all have sinned, that there is none righteous, no, not one. It also says we can’t save ourselves. Lots of people thought they could earn their way to God or to heaven by doing good things, but that’s the biggest misunderstanding ever. The Bible says it’s not by works we have done, but by his mercy that God saves us. We are saved by grace through Christ, not of ourselves, so we can’t brag about our goodness.”

“But I didn’t do anything good,” Vicki said. “I didn’t even
try
to get to heaven because I didn’t really believe any of this.”

“What do you think now?” Bruce said kindly.

“I think I was wrong.”

“Me too,” Judd said.

“Me three,” Lionel said.

Ryan said nothing, but it was clear to
Bruce he was listening. This was all brand-new to him, except for what Raymie had tried to tell him.

“The punishment for sin is death,” Bruce continued. “Jesus took our sins and paid the penalty for them by dying so we wouldn’t have to. He died in our place because he loves us. When we tell Christ that we know we are sinners and lost and then we receive his gift of salvation, he saves us. A transaction takes place, a deal. We go from darkness to light, from lost to found. We’re saved. The Bible says that to those who receive him he gives the power to become sons of God. That’s what Jesus is—the Son of God. When we become sons of God, we have what Jesus has: We become part of God’s family, we have forgiveness for our sins, and we have eternal life.

“After you watch this video our pastor left behind, I’m going to ask you something I never wanted to ask people before. I want to know if you’re ready to receive Christ right now. I’ll pray with you and help you talk to God about it. It may seem too fast for you. This may be new to you. I don’t want you to make a hasty decision when you’re still in shock over what has happened. But neither do I want you to wait too long, to put this off when the world is a more dangerous place
than it’s ever been. Maybe you missed Christ the first time around because you didn’t know any better. But now you know. What could be worse than knowing and then still dying without Christ?”