Eli (28 page)

To his left, Conrad heard a disturbance. He turned and saw Jake staggering to his feet. The big man’s eyes were as wide as saucers and he was shaking like a leaf. He was in such hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 213

213

shock that he resorted to what he did best: Talk. “Eli . . .” he stammered. “Eli, this is great. I mean, what’s happening. I’d love to get a photo, you know, to remember this by. How ’bout a drink? Are your friends thirsty? I could run back to the camper, get a camera, grab a few sodas, it would only take a couple minutes.”

Of course Jake didn’t exactly make sense. What do glowing creatures drink? And were they really in the mood for a photo op? But it didn’t make any difference to Jake, as long as he was talking. Unfortunately, all he succeeded in doing was disrupting their conversation. And with that disruption, came another phenomenon, even more frightening . . .

The air surrounding them began to sparkle, to glow like a bright fog. Only it wasn’t just a fog of vapor, it was a fog of light—a light that grew brighter and brighter until it was so brilliant that Conrad could no longer make out any shapes or forms—no faces, no trees, not even the forest floor, only light.

Terrible, frightening light. But it was more than light. It was a power, a majesty so intense, so terrifying that Conrad found it difficult to breathe. He opened his mouth, he started to cry out, but no sound would come. He tried rising to his feet, but he was too paralyzed to move. His heart pounded in his ears, loud and fast. Now there was only the pounding and the power and the horror—the paralyzing, terrifying horror.

And then, when he was certain he could stand no more

. . . there was more. A voice exploded in his head. But it wasn’t in his head, it was in his body, in the ground at his feet, in the light surrounding him. It filled everything inside of him and everything around him. It boomed like thunder, but a thousand times louder, and a thousand times more frightening:

THIS IS MY SON. LISTEN TO HIM!

Conrad’s heart trip-hammered. The experience was too much. His head grew light, overloaded, he was passing out.

And then, just before he lost consciousness, the light began to hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 214

214 dim. The blazing cloud started to fade and dissolve. It dissipated rapidly, growing more and more faint until, finally, there were only a few wisps of vapor that blew and swirled about, lingering for just a moment until they, too, disappeared. Completely.

Conrad took several deep breaths, trying to clear his head, trying to shake off the paralyzing fear. He shot a look over at Jake and Robert. They were also breathing hard. He turned back to Eli and his visitors. But the visitors were gone. So was the glowing brightness of Eli’s clothes. Now it was just Eli, looking back at them. He flashed a smile, then stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled toward them.

“Well, now,” he said, breaking into his grin, “that was something, wasn’t it?”

The men could only stare at him, speechless.

Eli’s grin faded as he knelt down to join them. Suddenly he was very serious and very earnest. “You caught a glimpse of who I really am, of the glory I share with my Father. But it’s important that you tell no one. Is that clear?”

They nodded numbly.

“Not yet. Not until I’ve made the sacrifice and come back from the dead.”

hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 215

C H A P T E R

E L E V E N

AS CONRAD DROVE TREVOR’S BEAT-UP TOYOTA THROUGH THE MAIN

street of Lebanon, Tennessee, population 25,000, he was surprised to see how little had changed since he’d visited Suzanne’s parents so many years earlier. There was still the tree-lined streets of oak and maple, the big stately houses with their flower gardens of red, yellow, and white impatiens, and the pots overflowing like fountains with petunias. Then, of course, there were the magnolias (one of which had been transplanted to their home in Pasadena). In the town square, whose surrounding stores had mostly given way to antique shops and gift boutiques, older men sat off to the side not far from the gaze of the General Hatton statue, stewing over the latest gossip they’d heard down at Johnny’s Barbershop or the Cardinal Cafe. And, as always, there was the heat and humidity. Plenty of both.

Once he’d passed through town, it was just a matter of minutes before he pulled the Toyota off the highway and turned down the lane leading to Suzanne’s sister’s farm. The crunching gravel and barking dog announced his arrival, and Suzanne was immediately on the porch, shading her eyes.

He’d not even come to a stop before she was racing down the steps toward him. “Connie!”

215

hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 216

216

He opened the door and climbed out just in time to catch her in his arms.

“Oh, Connie . . .”

He held her tight. How he’d missed her. She was his tent peg, the only constant in this ever-swirling, ever-changing world. But there was another reason he held her, and it had nothing to do with his needs. Instead, it had everything to do with hers. It had to do with her grief.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. She nodded and tightened the embrace. He could feel her body shudder and he knew she was crying. It had been five days since her brother had died—one day since the funeral. The funeral Conrad had tried to attend so he could be by her side and offer support, but the one she had insisted he miss.

The dog quit barking. Now there were only the incessant cicadas and Suzanne’s quiet sobs as she clung to him. He heard the screen door groan and looked over to see Cindy, his ex-sister-in-law, glaring down at them. She was a strong-willed woman who had seen no need to remarry after her divorce some thirty years earlier. She and Conrad had never been friends, even in the best of times. And once his affairs had started, Cindy was the primary force behind Suzanne’s filing for divorce. Not that he blamed her. He would have probably given Suzanne the same counsel had he been asked.

But now, for Cindy to see the two of them together, after all he’d put Suzanne through—well, he could only imagine what she was thinking.

They pulled back for a moment, just long enough for Suzanne to kiss him and for him to taste the saltiness of her tears, before they fell back into another embrace.

“I’m sorry I missed the service,” he said.

She pulled back again, forcing a smile at him through her tears. “Liar.”

“What do you mean?”

“My whole family was here, even Julia. You’re tough, but facing all of them at the same time . . . I don’t think so.”

hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 217

217

“I would have been here in a second if you hadn’t insisted I stay.”

She embraced him again. “I know.”

“Is Julia . . .” He swallowed. “Is she still here?”

Suzanne shook her head. “She left right after the service.”

Conrad nodded, feeling the familiar sadness. In the old days, he’d been able to avoid it with work or some other distraction. But not anymore. Not since Eli had begun stripping away his defenses, not since he was becoming more and more vulnerable.

“Where are the others?” Suzanne asked. “Where’s Eli?”

“Right behind me. I wanted to get here just a little before them and—”

The dog resumed barking. They both looked out toward the road. A convoy of eight or nine vehicles began pulling into the lane with Will’s camper in the lead. Conrad stole a glance at the porch and caught Cindy watching stoically. She was not going to like this. He turned back toward the convoy.

He saw Eli sitting in the front vehicle, across the seat from Will.

A moment later Suzanne was racing toward him. “Eli . . .

Eli!”

The camper pulled to a stop behind the Toyota. Eli opened the door to step out. And there was Suzanne to greet him, throwing her arms around him.

When they finally separated, he looked into her eyes.

“How are you?” he quietly asked.

She nodded, glancing away, obviously trying not to cry.

“Suzanne?”

She continued looking away.

“Suzanne, look at me.”

Her eyes faltered, then looked back to him.

Again he asked. “How are you?”

When she spoke her voice was thick. “It’s just . . . If you had been here, I know you could have healed him. I know he wouldn’t have died.”

hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 218

218

“Your brother will rise again.”

“I know.” She nodded, glancing away and wiping the tears. “On resurrection day, of course, but—”

“Suzanne. Suzanne, look at me.” His voice was firm but growing in emotion. “Look at me.”

She turned to face him.

“I
am
the resurrection, Suzanne. I
am
the life. Anyone who believes in me and dies will come back to life again.

Anyone who lives and believes in me will never die but live forever. Do you believe that?”

She swallowed hard, blinking back the tears.

“Do you believe it?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she choked, “I believe you are the Messiah, the Son of God—” But that was all she could say before emotion over-took her. Immediately, Conrad was at her side. When he looked at Eli, the young man’s eyes were also brimming with tears. They spilled onto his cheeks and tracked down his face.

Conrad had seen Eli moved with compassion before, but never quite like this. Maybe he finally realized his mistake.

Maybe now he saw that he should have come earlier, before it was too late.

“Where have you buried him?” Eli asked, struggling to speak through his emotion.

“At Cedar Grove Cemetery,” Suzanne answered. “The old part of town.”

Eli nodded. Then, looking over to Conrad, he said, “Connie, I want you to get a permit.”

“A permit? For what?”

“To exhume the body.”

Conrad’s jaw dropped. “Eli . . . He’s dead and buried.”

“I know.”

“But—”

“Didn’t I say this would help you see the glory of God?”

Eli wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Well, yes, but . . .” Conrad turned to Suzanne, hoping she would make Eli see reason. “Suzanne . . .” But, even through hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 219

219

her tears, she was looking at Eli with an expression of hope and expectancy. Was there nothing this woman could not believe? “Suzanne,” he repeated.

Sniffing quietly, she turned to him and answered. “Do what he says, Connie. Whatever he says, do it.”

v

Julia’s drive between Pasadena and Thousand Oaks seemed even faster than the night before. And for good reason. Her mind churned with a dozen conflicting thoughts and emotions. Today would be the day. Granted, she could drag things out, turn it into a long and costly legal battle, keeping Roseanne and her all-too-eager spawn at bay while steadily draining their inheritance. But what would be the purpose, especially with the doctor’s prognosis:

“It is my opinion your father’s coma is irreversible.”

Other words stewed and boiled in her mind, some spoken, some written:

I do not want life-sustaining treatment to be provided or
continued if . . .

“You would have declared him dead?”

“Jesus . . . Jesus Christ . . .”

“. . . your father is already dead.”

“. . . if you are incapable of carrying out his order, then it
is your responsibility to relinquish . . .”

“Jesus . . .”

“I’ll never ever let anything bad happen to you.”

“Pinkie swear?”

“I gave your Grandpa my word a long, long time ago. And
you know what I always say?”

“I know, I know . . . you’re only as good as your word.”

The Janss Exit came so quickly that once again Julia nearly missed it. She veered to the right, barely catching the ramp, then took the same route through town as she’d taken the morning before—through the same sleepy neighborhood, the same abundance of trees, and the same faint aroma of horses and dry grass.

hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 220

220

She turned into the hospital’s driveway and was startled by the double row of speed bumps. They’d no doubt been there the day before; she just didn’t remember them. She pulled in a few spots from where she had parked yesterday, and this time rolled down the windows an inch for the heat.

Turning off the ignition, she opened the door and stepped into the morning sun. She closed her eyes and turned toward the brightness. Once again she let it bake into her face, hoping the heat would somehow melt away the tension.

But, of course, it didn’t.

She thought of her mother. If she’d caught the same flight Julia had, and if she had successfully rented a car, she’d already be at the hospital grilling whatever physician was on duty. She was a determined lady, almost as determined as Julia . . . except for one fatal flaw. Her heart. Her mother was too soft, too full of mercy and grace. Much of that could be attributed to her fierce love for family—a love that had blinded her to her husband’s betrayals. But there was another reason for her softness: her faith. A faith that, Julia had to admit, exceeded anything she or her father had ever understood.

Granted, she and Dad had kept the woman pacified—they said prayers at mealtime, went to church, participated in fund-raisers. There was even a time when her mother had managed to talk him into teaching first-grade Sunday school with her. But none of it stuck. At least not for Dad. And certainly not for Julia. On more than one occasion the two of them had conspired on ways to skip church. Sometimes their plans worked, like suggesting they take a drive up the coast (family drives were another one of Mom’s weaknesses). Other times they weren’t so successful. Like the Sunday morning Dad had an incredibly high fever, 107, Mom estimated by the way the mercury stuck to the top of the thermometer. And the scam might have worked if he had remembered to straighten the lampshade around the bulb after heating it up. Then there was that unfortunate incident with Binky the cocker spaniel.

hththt 5/14/01 11:35 AM Page 221

221