His mother appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “Yes, Father?”
“I’ve been a clumsy fool again, dear.”
His mother saw the ice on the carpet. She smiled. “No bother, Nate… I mean, Ezekiel,” she said, hurrying over to the spill, squatting to use the towel to push the ice cubes back into the glass.
Andrew saw the moment of fear wash across her face, but his father only nodded.
“We will speak shortly,” his father said to him and the two deacons.
“There,” his mother announced as she stood up. “Spick-and-span again.”
His father reached over and patted her hand. “Thank you, my dear.”
His mother’s face glowed. Andrew could count on his hands the number of times he’d seen his father show his mother affection. Affection was a word Andrew doubted the old man truly understood. Loyalty was something he truly understood and demanded.
At the door, his mother turned her head and said brightly, “We’ll have sandwiches shortly, gentlemen.” She looked at Andrew just before disappearing from sight, mouthing the words “Love you.”
“My apologies for my clumsiness,” his father said. He leaned forward in his chair. “Andrew, today is the day you become a sharer of the prophecy of the vision. There are things within the prophecy that must be fulfilled for God. He is counting on us to do that.”
“Yes, Father,” Andrew said, his voice respectful. He uncrossed his legs and sat up straight. The vision was what guided God’s Army. It was delivered to Ezekiel directly from the lips of God. Everyone knew of the vision, lived the vision, and believed with their hearts and souls it was divine guidance necessary to bring God back to earth. Everyone also knew that parts of the vision were secret. The secrets were designed to keep the unbelievers from disrupting the prophecy. Only two leaders were privy to Ezekiel’s secrets within the vision, and they sat in this room alongside Andrew.
Andrew had become more than the Bishop’s son. Today, he had become a pawn in the vision.
Ezekiel talked, the words rolling off his tongue, and as he shared with Andrew the secrets for fulfilling the prophecy, the two deacons prayed quietly. Periodically during Ezekiel’s testament, as he called it, the two would say “Amen” in a slightly louder voice, background to the secrets.
Andrew tried to swallow when he heard of the carnage that would happen to the world. His brother had been a member of this inner sanctum. Andrew had thought his father was disappointed when Joshua disappeared one night and joined the Navy. His father was telling him that Joshua’s actions were part of the vision. To bring anarchy and hasten Armageddon meant sacrifice. The selection was only part of the new covenant with God; there was a second level to which Andrew would now ascend.
“To come to fulfillment, we must bring the world into conflict. Do you understand, Andrew?”
He jumped. The question was unexpected. “Yes, sir, but isn’t the world in conflict? Has been since I was born, sir.” Ezekiel nodded. “That it has, my son. It has been a world with small wars burning quietly over the globe. For the prophecy to be fulfilled, these conflicts must be brought together.” He brought his hands together, bouncing the fingers against each other as if holding a ball between them. “The mighty must fall and throughout the world we must have a conflagration so when God shows himself, His presence will be spectacular.”
It would be spectacular without conflagration, Andrew thought.
“It will be of such benevolence when He waves his hand across the world and every weapon, every bomb, every aircraft stops fighting. Weapons will cease to work. Soldiers will cease to fight. A thousand years of peace will descend across the globe and we shall be on His right, separating the good from the bad, choosing those who will live in His shadow and those who will die.”
His father’s eyes glazed as Ezekiel stared upward as if seeing something past the ceiling.
“Governments will evaporate. No need for police, prisons, or even cars. We shall truly be one world and one people on bended knee to the Almighty,” Ezekiel said, clenching his fist and shaking it. He looked at Andrew. “If we did nothing, He would still come, but not in our lifetime. We are but hastening His arrival. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” he said, not truly understanding. If God wanted to come, why did he need any preparation for a world which He made?
His father leaned back in his chair. “The vision has identified critical nodes to be attacked, to be destroyed. Destroying them will escalate the world toward Armageddon. A world in chaos will bring forth the Lord.”
Andrew nodded. He’d heard those words over the years, believing them, knowing them to be truly the words of God.
“Andrew, you will leave in the morning. You are part of the vision. You must prepare yourself for sacrifice if needed, as your brother Joshua did. In the past month our martyrs offered themselves to put the prophecy into action. They sought out and destroyed places of blasphemy and idolatry of a country that lacks the love of God and threatens those who do, North Korea. Thanks be to God for their actions. The dominoes toward Armageddon are falling, but we cannot sit back and think they will fall fast enough for God.”
Andrew nodded, wondering if his own death was expected in the fulfillment of his father’s vision.
“It will be hard for you as it was for us”—Ezekiel lifted his hand and waved it at the two deacons—“to come to terms with the possibility that we may wound or kill some believers, but it is God’s will who lives and dies for He alone sends us into this world. Even if innocent ones die, they are immediately resurrected into heaven. It is a sin quickly erased by our beliefs.”
“Amen,” the two deacons said in unison.
“He alone decides who shall live and who shall die.”
“Amen.”
“He alone determines who will be allowed to participate in the prophecy.”
“Amen.”
“And He has chosen you.” His father leaned forward and pointed a slightly bent finger at Andrew.
“Amen.”
“Amen,” Ezekiel said. His father leaned back into the soft cushion of his chair. “For you will take Joshua’s place, Andrew.” He turned to Tom Bucket. “You have the…?”
In one smooth motion, Bucket walked across the room and from behind the couch where Andrew and Temple sat, he lifted a cardboard box and brought it into the center of the living room. He pulled open the sides.
“This is but a small part of what you will need as you go to do God’s work,” he father said.
Bucket pulled a smaller box out and opened it. He handed it to Andrew.
“You will take your brother’s place.”
Andrew lifted a military identification card from the small box.
“I will join the Navy?”
His father shook his head. “No, you will take the place of the sailor whose uniform is within the satchel,” he said, pointing to a seabag leaning on the wall in the corner of the room. “His name was Albert Jolson. You will spend two weeks with Tom Bucket’s son, Steve, who retired from the Navy. He will teach you what you need to know.”
His mother entered the room. “Here are the sandwiches. Does anyone need a drink?” she asked.
“Mr. Bucket, I didn’t know Steve had retired from the Navy. I thought…”
“He didn’t retire. He spent his two years and was discharged. The Navy refused to have a believer who saw through their evil ways. He retired from following their ways. He knows what to teach you to make sure you pass as a sailor.”
A few minutes later, his mother was gone. They ate and spoke for another thirty before Ezekiel announced the end of the visit. Andrew glanced at the clock. It was nearing eleven. He walked behind his father as they escorted the Buckets and Temples to the door, his father embracing each of them before they left. His twin sisters, Mary and Charlemagne, stood halfway up the stairs, coming down them, joining the family on the porch to wave and bid farewell to the guests.