CHAPTER 9

One hundred and twenty years before Harold’s first entry in his journal, and roughly half a century before the arrival of Charlie and Naomi Lewis, another family had made their way to grassy plain nearly twenty miles west of where the Lewises would eventually build their lakeside cabin. They were the Clive family, traveling towards the Pacific Ocean from the North American Midwest.

            They had originally been a family of four, a couple and their two sons, but the sons had since married and now their clan had grown. The plains where the Clives settled was located in a lush valley bisected by a river and flanked to the north by a majestic mountain range. Like the Lewis family, The Clives had been tasked with the construction of a Welcome Center soon after settling in the valley, and many of the righteous whom they’d helped to bring back had chosen to remain in the area.

            The Clive family’s residence eventually expanded to facilitate the population growth, and new buildings had been added. Now there were nearly eighty residences spread over seven hundred acres, and the town center was soon home to an assembly hall, a river inn, a tavern, a brewery, a coffee mill, a town library, and a sprawling bazaar. Even an outdoor amphitheater was in the works. The town was expected to continue growing. Appropriately, it had been named after its first settlers: Clive.

            Charlie’s bicycle coasted off the downhill dirt path leading to town and slipped under the cool shadow of a great pine. He propped his bicycle against the tree’s coarse trunk and stepped onto a small paved footpath. He couldn’t remember if the footpath had been there the last time he’d visited. Clive was changing quickly and it was sometimes difficult to keep up.

            Charlie heard the distant clacking of hammers on lumber and wondered what new things were being built today. He enjoyed the solitude of his mountain cabin, but there was a certain social electricity in the air here that was uniquely intoxicating.

            Charlie dug his hands into his jeans pockets and strolled along the main street. While the residence buildings were located in the quieter, more remote parts of Clive across the river, the public buildings had been built conveniently close to one another. Picnic tables and benches with umbrellas lined most of these buildings, and small clusters of friends sat here and there, chatting and sharing experiences.

            Bits and pieces of conversations fluttered past Charlie as he walked. Rumor had it that a new welcome center was being planned for Bighton. Forty rooms and plenty of nearby condos! Had that new family from India come in yet? They were supposed to arrive next month and were bringing plenty of spices from the East. It’s been a long time since we had authentic curry! More solar planes are being delivered this month–straight from Europe and supposedly state-of-the-art. Did you hear, they’re offering custom paint jobs now!

            “Hey, Charlie!” Someone called out from one of the tables, waving a green cloth napkin. His name was Gavin. He and his wife had been two of the first to be resurrected right there in Clive.

            “Hey, long time no see,” Charlie said as the two shook hands and he sat down.

            “Heard you just got some new guests. What brings you into town?”

            “Yeah, just last week. It’s been busy. Doing a little research today.”

            “Oh, the library. I hear they’re expanding soon,” Gavin said. He pushed a platter of cut fruit wedges on the table in Charlie’s direction.

            “Oh? What for?”

            “New books coming in, I think. Now that the unrighteous are coming back, some things need updating, I guess.”

            “Perhaps they’ll have a manual on how to talk to them,” Charlie snickered.

            “That tough, huh?”

            “It’s been... an interesting week. We’re all tired,” Charlie sighed.

            “What their background like?”

            “Each of them is different. My guest is an evolutionist. Highly educated. Very intimidating.”

            Gavin let out a descending whistle. “Evolution! Man, haven’t heard that word in a long time. But I guess we’ll be getting all sorts from here on out.”

            “Have any come back anywhere else that you’ve heard of?”

            “Your guests are the first in this area so far as I know, but we’ve had a few travelers come through with stories. Seems that some take to the truth right away, other take some persuading.”

            “Any stories of those who just refuse to change?”

            “No, not yet. It’s still all so new, though. You that worried about the evolutionist?”

            “I am,” Charlie nodded gravely, slipping a slice of mango into his mouth.

            “Well, I’ll be praying for you. We’ll all be in your shoes soon enough, I’m guessing. If you learn any good methods, be sure to pass ‘em on.” Gavin rose from the table and slapped Charlie on the back. “Good seeing you, buddy. Say hi to the family. Gotta get going now. We’ve got a busy schedule today,” he said.

            “You still in construction?”

            “Yup. We’re working on the amphitheater. Can you imagine, seeing some live music and performances all together like that? It’ll be great.”

            Charlie smiled distractedly. “Good seeing you too, Gavin.”

            Charlie sighed again and rose from the table slowly, then sauntered off in the direction of the library.

***

            The Clive Public Library was a tall hexagonal red-brick building across from the assembly hall near the center of town. Tall glass widows stretched up its six sides, allowing the natural light to illuminate its three-story interior. Like many of the buildings in Clive, the library’s perimeter was lined with well-trimmed shrubs and flowering plants. A large shaded grassy area wrapped around the north and south sides of the building, where a dozen visitors now sat outdoors at chairs and tables, flipping through reference books and making notes.

            Charlie entered through the main doors and was met by another familiar face. Her name was Kiana. She had settled in Clive decades before when the town was just a small village with a population just over a dozen. To everyone’s surprise, Kiana had remained single, despite her remarkable intelligence and beauty. She and Sophie had become good friends over the last five decades, though lately they’d barely had time to talk.

            “Hey, Kiana,” Charlie said as the glass doors whisked shut behind him. She was a frequent guest in the Lewises’s cabin and Charlie was happy to see her.

            “Hey, Charlie, didn’t expect to see you all the way out here. What brings you down from the top of the mountain?”

            “I’m looking for a book about birds,” Charlie started.

            “You have a specific title in mind?”

            “No, I guess not. One of our newly resurrected guests was an evolutionist–is an evolutionist, I suppose–and he mentioned something about birds having useless organs. I wanted to research the topic.”

            “Got it. You’ll find what you’re looking for in an article by a research team based in South America. I believe it was called Birds–Old Concepts Versus New Discovery. It should be in the second volume on Ornithology, which was published just last year. Check the zoology section on our second floor at the south-west corner.”

            Charlie stared at the girl in amazement. “You’ve read the article?”

            “I did, but I don’t remember all of the details. I recommend checking the source if you’re going to talk with a scientist.”

            “Yes, I suppose that’s best. Thanks, Kiana.” And with that, Charlie sensed the looming intimidation as he climbed the winding iron staircase to the second floor and took a deep breath. He was never a science guy.

***

            It had taken no small courage for Daniel to approach Jack’s door. They hadn’t seen much of each other over the last couple of days; Daniel’s father had suggested they give Jack some space. He was probably still a little disoriented  and needed some time to himself. Time and of course, as always, love. Daniel had thus spent the last forty-eight hours in prayer and meditation, looking for the keys to helping his guest.

            The sound his knuckles made on the door was nearly inaudible. In his mind, Jack emerged in a drunken fury and slammed one or both of his fists into Daniel’s head, sending the terrified boy flying across the hallway and through the glass picture window. He’d imagined it many times, and did his best to shake the horror from his head as he forced himself to knock a second time.

            “Yeah? Who is it?” Said a dull voice from within.

            Daniel’s mouth shut like two ends of a strong magnet. His throat was a padlock keeping any words from leaking out. His body froze. Sweat began forming on his arms and neck.

            “I said who is it?” Came the voice a second time, louder. Angrier.

            The padlock cracked enough for a whisper to leak out: “It’s m-me. It’s Duh-Daniel.”

            Silence. Then the sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floorboards as Jack stood and approached.

            “What do you want?”

            Daniel swallowed hard and wiped the back of his damp arm on his shirt. “I was hoping we c-could have a little ch-chat. What do you think?”

            Jack squinted, studying Daniel carefully without a word. More sweat. Daniel’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest, a deafening thudding in his eardrums. He felt the organs in his belly twist and churn, as if shifting away from what would certainly be a swift kick in their direction.

            “Yeah, ok. But let’s do it outside.”

            Daniel nodded enthusiastically. Whatever he wanted. Anything at all. He led Jack down the hallway and into the kitchen, where they grabbed a pitcher of fresh juice and two glasses. A minute later they were sitting on the back deck, overlooking the tree-lined valley swooping below.

            “I’ll admit, this is one spectacular view,” Jack said, throwing a cup of juice down his gullet. Then, after tugging his shoes off, he leaned back on two legs of the chair and crossed his feet on the edge of the table. “Don’t worry kid, I’m not gonna hit you. You can relax,” he said.

            “Oh, ok. That’s good. Thank you.” Daniel smiled, but it was gone a moment later.

            “So your Dad tells me I need to ask more questions.” Jack bit a hanging fingernail and flicked it into the grass. “What do you think, Daniel?”

            “Well yeah, I agree.”

            “You agree because Dad said so or you agree because you really think so?”

            “I really think so.”

            “Why?” Jack looked at Daniel with an expression Daniel had never seen before. It was something between anger and curiosity. But it did not fill Daniel with a sense of dread. In some strange way, it gave him courage. There was honesty in that look, and Daniel could sense it. It was the look of a challenge.

            “Because questions lead to answers,” Daniel said with the dawn of confidence.

            “Sounds good enough, but you could’ve read that line in a book.”

            “Would that be so bad? Don’t books teach us things?”

            “They can, I guess, but real experience teaches us more.”

            “And what have your experiences taught you?”

            Jack fell silent and his expression shifted slightly. The intensity of the fire in his eyes had turned down a notch. “I guess they’ve taught me to be careful.”

            “Anyone inexperienced puts faith in every step.”

            “Not bad. What’s that from?”

            “It’s a proverb from the Bible.”

            Jack’s eyebrows raised slightly with a nod of his head. “Ok, I’ll shoot,” he said suddenly, setting all four legs of the deck chair back on the ground.

            “What?”

            “A question. I’ve got one for you. If this is paradise, as you’ve said, and humanity has been reunited with God and whatnot, why can’t we see him? Where is he? Why does he hide?”

            “God’s invisibility to human eyes is not due to our being distanced from him, but due to our differing natures of existence. We are material creatures, he is a spirit.”

            Jack swiped a flattened hand over the top of his head with a blank look. “What does that even mean?”

            “Think of it like this. Suppose you’re watching a live broadcast on television.”

            “Ok.”

            “The people you see on the screen–are they real?”

            “Sure.”

            “Can they see you?”

            “No.”

            “Right. Although they exist at the same time as you and I and are real as the people watching them, they don’t know what their audience looks like.”

            “I’m following so far. Go on.”

            “In the same way, the things that happen in our physical world can be observed clearly from the non-physical–or spiritual–world.”

            “Ok. You’re saying that God sees us, and exists like us, but we can’t see him, like we’re trapped in some TV screen.”

            “Well, it’s not an exact parallel, but you’ve got the idea. The fact is, there are many things invisible to the human eye that we can prove the existence of. Radiation, magnetism, radio waves, wind, sound, emotions, and so forth. We all accept that these things exist although we can’t actually see them. Our eyes are only built to see the things we need to.”

            “And what if I said that I need to see God to believe in him?”

            “Then I would suggest you look at a scripture: Romans chapter one verse twenty.”

            “You got a Bible around here?” Jack asked.

            “Of course,” Daniel said. He could barely contain his smile as he rose from his chair and dashed back into the cabin.

***

            Adrina could feel some of the tension release in her back and shoulders as they stepped off the platform at the bottom of the hill. The view here was no less stunning than the one on the mountain. She wasn’t able to see quite as far as from the peak, but the gently rolling hills that spilled into the massive lake at the center of the clearing gave Adrina a sense of calm and peace that sunk deep into her bones, warming her. An angular wood cabin stood a short walking distance from the lift, its tall glass windows reflecting the brilliant light of the sun off the lake.

            “This is your house?” Adrina asked. It was two stories tall, surrounded by flowers and hedges, and sat in the center of a large field of grass. Adrina was awestruck.

            “Can I ask how much you paid for this place? It’s a mansion!”

            Naomi smiled. “Not a dime.”

            Adrina shook her head in disbelief.

            “You can stay here with us, for awhile, until we figure some things out. We’ve got a guest house on the other side.”

            Adrina followed Naomi around the side of the house as her eyes soaked in the dazzling scenery. A small troop of foxes emerged from the tree line and trotted to the water’s edge, paying no apparent attention to the humans who stood less than a hundred feet away.

            “They don’t seem afraid at all,” Adrina muttered.

            “They’re not. None of the animals in paradise are. That’s part of what makes it paradise,” Naomi said without looking back.

            Adrina plodded up the stairs behind Naomi and heard the creak of the large twin doors as the hinges bent open. Naomi swatted at a film of cobwebs in the doorway. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s been awhile since this place has seen guests.”

            Adrina didn’t mind. She was used to living in places much, much worse. A bit of dust and cobweb wouldn’t be a problem.

            “I’ll get the cleaning supplies. We can clean the place together,” Naomi said.

            “Ok.”

            Adrina waited while Naomi wandered off for the supplies. Though small when compared to the Lewis cabin, the guest house was much larger than any of the apartments she’d ever lived in. It was, in many ways, the kind of house she’d always wanted. It was far from the city and the gangs and sirens. Nothing but nature all around as far as the eye could see. It was the house of her dreams, when she still had them. Dreams of marrying Corey, of raising kids, of being happy... Well, at least she had the house. For now. She smiled, enjoying for once what she imagined to be a first streak of good luck. About time.

            Adrina strolled through the foyer and into the living room. It was adorned simply and attractively, with two recliners and a sofa set beside a large picture window. The opposite wall housed a fireplace beside which lay a neat stack of cut wood. Adrina walked to the mantle, noting a row of dusty framed photos.

            The first two were pictures of Charlie and Naomi. They stood in the grassy clearing where Adrina had just walked. In the background of the photo, where the cabin should’ve been, stood a single, red water pump. It had to have been years ago, long before the two buildings were built.

            In the third photo, there were three faces: that of Charlie, Naomi, and the young woman, Sophie. Their arms were around each other and they sat on a sofa next to a fireplace–this fireplace, Adrina realized.

            In the fourth photo, Charlie and Naomi stood by the lake with a small boy. It was only after carefully studying the fifth photo that Adrina realized that this was the young man she’d seen at the Center. Daniel. And it was this completed center, sitting atop the peak of the mountain, that the four of them, with the boy now fully grown, stood next to in the sixth and final photo.

            Adrina scanned the photos again. Something seemed odd. She lifted the first photo carefully from a dustless footprint and blew it off, getting a clearer view of the image behind the glass film. She held it next to the sixth and final photo, and peered at the faces of Charlie and Naomi. Was she seeing things? Adrina rubbed her eyes and looked again. Their faces hadn’t changed. In all those years building the cabins and raising a son, they looked exactly the same. Not a day older.

            Adrina felt a wave of goose bumps wash over her body.

***

            Margaret Dresden–or Maggie, as the girls around the office knew her–neatly folded the paper sack at her desk as she finished the remnants of an egg sandwich. She momentarily fluffed her hair as she caught her slightly disheveled reflection glaring back at her from a strip of metal. The metal, together with an array of switches, sockets, cables, and plugs, stood vertically less than two feet from the edge of Maggie’s desk. She flicked the paper bag into a recycling bin beneath the table and swiveled back to the wall of wires and holes, slipping on an old-fashioned headset.

            In fact, the entire scene in the sixteen-by-twenty foot room was strikingly old-fashioned. In it, eight female operators with smartly curled hair and polished fingernails muttered polite sounds into their headsets, helping the nearly eight hundred residents of Bighton (and three hundred residents of neighboring Clive) place calls to the outside world.

            Call centers like the one here had popped up slowly as a global phone network had reestablished itself. In some regions, many of the existing phone lines had been left intact after Armageddon. In others, lines had needed to be re-laid. In many places, unsightly above-ground telephones poles were taken down as the lines were moved to underground conduits. It had taken many decades to examine the nearly seventeen million miles of telephone wire strewn across the globe, but gradually things had come together. And now, even remote places like Clive had at least one telephone per household.

            “Hello, operator,” Maggie said pleasantly as a red bulb flashed atop the switchboard.

            “Yes, hi. I’d like to speak with someone in Cambridge, England.” Said a crisp male voice.

            “Please hold,” said Maggie. She expertly rearranged the cables in front of her and soon there was a new voice in the earpiece.

            “Hello, operator,” Came the voice on the other end.

            “Hello there. I’m an operator from Bighton, region twenty-two A, and I’ve got a caller looking for someone in Cambridge. Can you please connect us?” A pause.

            “Are you sure it’s Cambridge?”

            “Yes, I believe so.”

            “Sorry, no Cambridge here.”

            “Oh? Are you sure?”

            “Quite positive. Cambridge was completely leveled during the Great Day. Nothing left out there but trees. Even if there are a handful of settlers now, I’m sure they haven’t got phones yet. You want me to check for HAM frequencies?”

            “Perhaps he’s speaking of another Cambridge?”

            “Not near here. There’s just the one. Sorry.”

            “I see. Well thanks anyway.”

            Maggie said goodbye and the voice clicked off. She replaced the cables and explained the situation to the first caller.

            “That can’t be!” He gasped.

            “I’m sorry brother, that’s the information I was given.”

            “Who am I speaking to? Where are you?” The voice demanded.

            “Uh, well, my name is Margaret Dresden, I’m an operator here in Bighton.”

            “Bighton? Where’s that?”

            “Well, just across the river from you. Are you feeling al–“

            “Across the river from me? How do you know where I’m calling from?” Said the voice.

            “This is a switchboard. We know where all our calls are coming from. You’re at the Lewis family’s Welcome Center.”

            There was no response.

            “Hello?” Maggie said gently into the mouthpiece.  Still nothing.

            Maggie realized the line was dead and was suddenly flooded with familiar feelings of dread. Her hand was trembling against her headset.

            “Maggie. Maggie? Are you ok?” said a voice to her right. Maggie turned her head slowly, eyes wide, unblinking.

            “I think it’s happened somewhere else,” she said.