"You've had a dream like this?" asked Jacob, looking up in surprise, then willing his eyes back down to stay focused on the dust.
"Nine years," said the Reverend. "Since the day I woke and found myself lying in a filthy ditch by the side of a river. In Switzerland, of all places. No memory of who I was or any single detail of what my life might have been before. All I possessed was this dream. This Vision. And I paid a terrible price for my enlightenment. My body crippled, many times worse than you see the poor self now: a year to heal, two before I could walk. Was it worth it? Without hesitation I would have to tell you: yes.
"Go to America, my Vision commanded, and plant your seed in the sand. Who was I to argue with such an authoritative voice? Nothing, a speck of dust. And so, without benefit of clergy, I took up the cloth," said Day, gripping his frock coat by the lapels. "Actually I took it off a Baptist preacher I killed in Charleston, South Carolina. A perfect fit, not a single alteration, and I'm not such an easy man to dress what with my various ... irregularities. Clothes do make the man, in the end. What do you think, Rabbi? Am I not the very model of a modern evangelical?" He hummed a snatch of Gilbert and Sullivan and laughed.
"So your vision led you to this place," said Jacob, struggling to concentrate and keep the man on track.
"With the aid of the millionaires I won to my side between Charleston and here—New Orleans proved particularly fertile ground, by the way; combine dissolute living with new money and they practically beg you for absolution. With their generous contributions, before long The New City brought life to (his barren plain. You can well imagine the attention to detail required to birth such a child of the imagination; architecture, social organization, supply lines, local government. Years Hashed by with hardly a spare moment for the theological.
"Until one day I looked up to see our little town coming along so splendidly; nearly a thousand of us, more flocking to our side as I toured the western coast, preaching from the back of a wagon ... and I realized how thoroughly I had neglected to develop the scriptural foundation of our community. Our spirit was willing but the flesh was ... ignorant.
"So I made a pilgrimage. Chicago, last year, to mingle with my fellow clergy. What an assembly of knowledge, what an inspiration! I can tell you truthfully, Rabbi, the Parliament of Religions changed my life. My path was revealed to me and it was a daunting one: I needed to study and root out the prima materia of all the religions of the world, then unite their separate truths in the name of the one true Vision which I already possessed but lacked the ability to articulate.
"So I began my collection of the world's great holy books and the study of their secrets. One of the first ideas you acquire is that there is no such thing as coincidence. And I must tell you, Jacob Stern, that your appearing in The New City at this moment is remarkably fortuitous."
"Why is that?"
The relentless pounding in Jacob's head nearly drowned out the sound of Reverend Day as the man drew his chair closer. A nauseatingly ripe smell of lush rotting flowers blossomed in the air.
"Because I believe you have been sent to me so that we can complete this great Holy Work together. That is why you are here. That is why you have shared my dream about our church."
"What makes you so sure I've had the same dream?" asked Jacob.
"Please, let's not be disingenuous; I know many things about you and I have no doubt you are a wise enough man to figure out the 'why' of it."
The Reverend casually waved his arm; Jacob felt hot liquid running from his nose and raised his hand to it: blood, he looked up, feeling dizzy, narrowly avoiding the Reverend's eyes. But he saw it, there, trickling down the man's lip, his own blood as well.
Jacob nodded again; the "why" didn't matter. The only important question was "how": how to stop him.
"You can see that with all my responsibilities here I have found it impossible to consider any of these people colleagues," said Reverend Day, voice rising with excitement, oblivious to his own bleeding. "I knew you would come; it was foretold in the dream."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"So long since I've sat with anyone qualified to appreciate my discoveries. I hardly know where to begin. Let me share with you what I've concluded from my studies and tell me if you agree."
"All right."
Rotting flowers permeated the air; Jacob breathed through his mouth, staring at the floor, feeling the Reverend's eyes slowly pick apart his defenses.
"In Hebrew scriptures there is no direct mention of God; many other names are given Him, but the Ain Sof, the Godhead, the source of all creation, is never named directly, because its identity lies beyond human comprehension. Correct me if I'm wrong."
Jacob nodded in agreement; the pain increasing dreadfully. He put his hands to the side of his head, focused on the dust swirling in the wake of the man's gestures.
"The absence of God is darkness. Darkness is considered Evil. Before light came into the world, before good existed— because God is good—there was only darkness. We know God gave man a free will because He wanted us to live freely upon the earth. But to be truly free means that we must defy what is traditionally called God's will; do you see? By defying God we become more godlike. That was his original intention in creating us. And in order for man to live the way God intended, Evil had to exist in the heart of man from the beginning, because without the possibility of Evil, of choosing between these two paths, he has no free will to exercise.
"Therefore . .. Evil was God's original gift to man. Are you with me so far, Rabbi?"
Somehow Jacob found the strength to shake his head, the pounding now joined by a grating rattle in his ears that obliterated everything but the Reverend Day's voice.
"Evil has a purpose, yes," said Jacob, "but only so man can struggle with his brokenness. Move himself towards becoming whole again."
"Yes, that is one way open to us, I agree. But clearly there is another path to godliness; through the pursuit of this power we call Evil," the Reverend continued feverishly. "I grant you, not one for most men to follow. Only for those few that have fallen into darkness, been corrupted by it, and found the strength to rise again ..."
"This is not a path for human beings," said Jacob, his voice sounding distant and tinny.
"My point exactly," said the Reverend, with a broad smile, blood running down between his teeth. "This less-traveled way is the path of emulating God, not obeying Him. To become godlike by seeking Power and moving beyond consideration of Good and Evil. To move closer to God than man has ever dared by challenging and combating His authority."
"You cannot defeat God," said Jacob, feeling an immense weight crushing his limbs, pressing down on the back of his neck.
"Oh, do you think so? Then let me ask you this; in order to follow the path of good, the path of God, the path most human beings blindly follow, this is why the great holy books came into the world. That is the common wisdom, yes? Given to us as the Word of God; a series of manuals for living, spiritual handbooks detailing the Laws of God, handed down to man through the prophets of the world religions."