Fiction
Although people were everywhere, Mike still felt like he was alone in a ghost town. Each building he walked past on his way to work used to be something else. Each building was a gateway away from his fear.
He noticed a new dental office on the corner. Mike sighed as he shuffled by. Years ago, there used to be an optometry shop there. But since the government insurance plan paid for laser surgery, and the few remaining private plans paid for it as well, pretty much no one wore glasses or contacts. Mike had the surgery performed recently, and despite three more visits to two different doctors his vision is still a little fuzzy.
A few doors down there was a new convention center. Back in Mike’s childhood this building had been a movie theater that showed foreign films. There was a great deal of foreign influence here at one time, with different people speaking different languages and eating different food and having different cultural tastes. The Attacks changed all that. After the Attacks, the government closed the border. You could still catch a glimpse of the outside world on TV or some Internet sites, and foreign travel was still allowed under very limited and controlled circumstances. Mike taught his University students that a couple of hundred years ago America was known as a “melting pot”. But those days are gone now.
People were milling about the neighborhood coffee bar. But Mike didn’t see a coffee bar. He saw the small Web publisher that once occupied that space. There used to be a lot of political discussion on the Internet and a lot of independent voices. A nervous and fearful government eventually passed the Loyalty Acts. Mike was just a history professor and not a law professor so he didn’t quite understand every aspect of the laws. He knew that it was still possible to criticize the government but only if you jumped through a lot of hoops. Many small publishers and bloggers decided that compliance wasn’t worth the hassle.
Just before Mike passed the final checkpoint before the University he saw a new min-mall under construction. Mike had attended church there as a young boy, but he hadn’t been in a church in years. That was partly because he had lost interest in religion, and partly because there were so few churches left.
After the Attacks the government’s urge to keep people safe resulted in some collateral losses. When the border closed the Pope could no longer issue edicts that would reach the United States, and he couldn’t appoint new priests and bishops. Without effective direction or leadership the American Catholic Church held on for a few years but rapidly declined thereafter. As for the Jews and Protestants, they soon fell victim to the Loyalty Acts. When the churches and synagogues proclaimed that Jesus was King of Kings over and above the United States, the worship houses were classified as “possibly subversive” and many churchmembers were monitored or arrested or had their communications tapped. Mike’s parents were placed on Restriction and had GPS implants until their deaths, and government agents would email every so often asking questions. A few small churches still met underground, but for most people God is just a memory.
There was a line at the checkpoint and Mike soon discovered why. The checkpoint guard was new. He had a temporary badge and an ill-fitting uniform. New guards felt the need to establish their authority, and several people had already been sent to the Inspection Area. At last it was Mike’s turn and he waited semi-patiently while the guard scrutinized his security badge.
Mike could see that the guard was chagrined that the security badge was valid. But the new guard found another reason to harass Mike. “I see you have a laptop,” the guard sneered. “This ID doesn’t give you a computer allowance. You’ll have to leave it with us.”
Mike tried to conceal his fear. “I just bought the computer last week, and my new ID hasn’t come in. If you think I’m lying you can check my spending record and my government file.”
Without a word the guard summoned a burly Security Specialist to watch Mike. Following procedure the Security Specialist unholstered his weapon as he walked behind the guard. The guard pressed a few keys and stared at his monitor. He apparently performed a search and achieved satisfactory results. “You may pass,” the guard said, like he was doing Mike a favor. Mike smiled and said “thank-you”. He had learned that you always treat these guards with respect, even if they don’t deserve it. Mike had seen too many people placed under Restriction or worse for showing “intolerance to authority”.
Mike bought a bottle of water at the corner store before beginning his walk across the University campus. He passed the Market as he always did. For generations of students the Market had been a gathering place to exchange ideas. The only requirements were an e-filing, along with enough guts to stand up for yourself. But the Market seemed unusually quiet. Mike squinted at the University Tower clock to make out the time. It looked like it was about 8:30. Mike surmised it was just too early for college students to be up sharing ideas.
Mike was still half-focused on the clock and so he almost collided with three young men who seemingly came out of nowhere. He startled and dropped his laptop and water. The computer seemed undamaged but the spilled water trickled onto the brick walkway. Mike gathered his things and stood up. Strangely, he only saw one young man this time. The young man was unfamiliar but on a campus this large nearly everyone was a stranger.
“Hello. I’m Mike”. Mike smiled and extended his hand.
The young man made no response. He seemed unsure of where he was or how he got there.
“Where are you going? I can probably help you find the place. I’m a professor here.”
The young man babbled softly. Mike couldn’t make out the words but the language seemed Semitic. Men and women who looked and talked that way dotted the campus before the border closed.
Sensing the young man didn’t speak English Mike tried to communicate another way. Mike gestured at himself with both hands and smiled broadly. “Mike”, he announced to the young man. Mike gestured toward the young man with a quizzical look on his face. “And you?”
Again Mike couldn’t quite understand but it sounded like the young man said “Seth”.
“Why are you here, Seth?”
Seth spoke some labored English. “I…uh…talk…uh…” Seth’s voice trailed off but Mike understood that Seth meant he wanted to speak in the Market.
“Did you e-file the form?”
Seth stared blankly toward Mike.
Mike rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Just forget I asked.” Mike squinted at the clock again. 8:40. “Well, if you want to speak, just stand on this empty platform.”
Seth got up on the platform and he exploded.
“GOD LOVES YOU ALL! HE HAD A WONDERFUL PLAN FOR YOUR LIVES! ALL HE WANTS IS A CHANCE TO SHARE IT WITH YOU!”
Oh no, Mike grimaced. A Christian. Mike remembered all too well what happened to the last group of Christians who spoke in the Market.
It was a chilly afternoon two Falls ago. No one could remember the last time Christians were in the Market but this group filed their form and took the stage. Soon after their talk began, a crowd gathered. Some listened, some heckled, and some yelled obscenities. Of course that happened to all the Market speakers, but these Christians seemed to draw a bit more ire. They were holding their own until one of them said that Jesus Christ will judge humanity and we are accountable to Him. At that point a phalanx of Security Specialists swooped down on the Christians. The suddenly-fearful crowd dispersed quickly as the Christians were led to the Detention Area.
No one knows what happened next. One story was that the Christians were placed on Heightened Restriction. Others said that the Christians were expelled and had their spending accounts frozen. Some even claimed that the Christians had been sent to Intensive Long-Term Rehabilitation. Whatever their punishment it had been sufficient to deter future Christians.
That is, until Seth.
As Mike hurried away from Seth toward Davis Hall to prepare his 9:00 lecture, he saw that a small crowd had already gathered. When Mike took a break just before 10:00, he felt compelled to look across the Market for Seth. The crowd had grown and become much more vocal, but they were too far away for Mike to make out their words or faces. Unfortunately for Seth a few Security Specialists hovered ominously under a shade tree just to the left of the platform.
Mike left Davis Hall about 11:45 to lunch with some colleagues at the Faculty Deli. The crowd, the Security Specialists, and Seth had all vanished.
When Mike left for the day late that afternoon he had pretty much forgotten Seth. The regular afternoon guard was at the checkpoint and Mike breezed on through, barely flashing his ID. The sun was low over the horizon and the evening chill had already set in, so Mike stopped by the coffee bar. When he emerged sipping his latte a few minutes later he was stunned to see Seth leaning against the streetlight. Two other young men were with him. Mike guessed they were the same ones from that morning near the Market. Mike sipped his latte again, spilling just a little of it, before approaching Seth. The other two young men had left, just like before.
Seth was directly under the streetlight and Mike noticed that Seth’s mouth and eyes were swollen, and a little dried blood seeped from his left ear. Seth had that same confused look until he saw Mike, and then his face brightened a little.
“Seth, are you all right? What happened to you?”
“The people...talk…no like…”
Mike was unsure what “people” Seth meant. Was it the Security Specialists, the crowd, or someone else?
“Are you all right?” Mike repeated. Seth’s knees buckled slightly and his eyes rolled back. “I guess that’s my answer. Do you have a place to stay tonight?”
“I…uh…stay…?”
I can’t believe I’m saying this, Mike thought. “You can stay with me tonight.”
Mike knew he could walk down the back alleys to his flat and avoid the checkpoints. As long as they didn’t see a patrol they’d be all right. If the guards or Security Specialists saw Seth they would send him straight to Rehabilitation, and Mike knew he would not be far behind.
Mike was afraid that Seth wouldn’t be physically able to make the trip. He was pretty weak. But wherever they stopped to rest, there always seemed to be a bench or even a bottle of water. Mike couldn’t be sure since his vision was even fuzzier at night, but the thought he saw the two young men at various times.
“I don’t have very much food here,” Mike said apologetically as they reached his flat. “But I’m afraid to take you to a store or café…I don’t want anyone to see you.” Seth smiled weakly, seeming to understand. He very nearly collapsed on the sofa as Mike went into the small kitchen.
After rummaging though the pantry Mike found a little pasta and sauce and a half-bottle of wine. Not much of a supper but it will have to do. He turned on the stove and then walked a few steps to the living room to check on Seth.
Seth was asleep and Mike had a chance to inspect his wounds more closely. The swollen areas around his eyes and mouth seemed a little better, but there was some fresh blood on Seth’s earlobe along with the dried blood from earlier. Mike reflected on Seth’s demeanor from that morning. When they first met, Seth seemed somewhat confused and afraid. But once he began his talk it was like all the fear had left him. And even as the opposition mounted he continued speaking courageously.
The timer tone interrupted Mike’s
musings. He flipped on the television to rouse Seth and quickly walked back in the kitchen to finish dinner. He went to set the table and found Seth already sitting at the chair on the far end. Seth was more alert than he had been the whole evening.
Suddenly he poured a glass of wine and looked up. “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who hast created the fruit of the vine. Amen.”
“Amen”, Mike said softly. Seth’s language skills were very poor unless he was talking about God.
Mike was ready to start eating but Seth was just getting started. He sat on the edge of his chair. “Blessed art Thou, Lord our God, King of the Universe, Who hast provided for all our needs. Amen.”
“Amen?” How could Seth be praising God after the day he’d had?
Seth stood up and proclaimed in a loud voice: “Blessed art Thou, O Lord our God, who giveth the weary strength and establisheth the footsteps of men. Amen.”
“Amen.” Mike hadn’t heard reassuring words like that in a long time.
Seth’s burst of energy came out of nowhere, and now his fatigue returned just as quickly. He could barely hold his eyes open while he picked at his dinner. Mike excused himself from the table to go get another glass of wine. When Mike returned, Seth had vanished. Mike opened the front door and looked outside, but he didn’t see Seth or anyone else. Suddenly his fear returned, and he shut the door quickly and bolted all three locks. He doused the lights and retired to his bedroom for an uneasy night, not even bothering to clean himself or the kitchen.
Mike was still very confused the next morning. He went the back way to the University so he could avoid the checkpoints. Some Security Specialists in an armored convey eyed him fearfully and suspiciously, but they didn’t detain or interrogate him.
Mike thought he heard a familiar voice in the Market and nearly fainted when he saw Seth up on the same platform, preaching the same sermon. The onlooking crowd included the same students and Security Sepcialists from yesterday. The two young men were in the crowd as well, toward the back.
I can’t believe I’m doing this either, Mike thought to himself. He grabbed Seth and pulled him down from the platform. “Don’t you remember what happened to you yesterday? Whoever beat you hurt you badly, and I’m afraid today something worse will happen.”
Seth’s eyes were distant. “No…I…talk…”, he stammered. Mike watched in disbelief as Seth got back up on the platform. Seth stopped suddenly, as if he had forgotten something. He turned and handed Mike a scrap of paper.
Mike tried to read the scribbled writing. “Thank you”, the note said. The only other phrase: “Act 726”.
Seth’s audience seemed about ready to lash out. Mike sulked away to the safety of his office before things got nasty. He shut the door and slumped down onto his sofa, shaken and fearful. He was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be seeing Seth again. Mike tried to take solace in the fact that Seth’s guardians appeared to be in the crowd, but Mike feared that all the mysterious young men in the world couldn’t help Seth now.
Mike composed himself and set about searching legislative histories for Act 726. He had only viewed a few Web pages when the government email came. They had noticed his search pattern and wanted to know what information he was seeking. Mike gasped and pushed back from his computer desk. Was he already being watched? Perhaps some one had seen him with Seth and filed a report. Mike replied to the email before the government got even more suspicious. He wrote that he was doing some research for a lecture, and then printed a couple of pages so he could back up his story. Mike collected his things and walked to a building he hadn’t entered in years-the paper library.
The paper books were not censored but they were kept under strict control. Mike showed his ID badge to the guard. The young guard barely even looked at Mike before allowing him inside. That was a relief. Mike could feel the cold sweat of fear on his brow.
As he moved toward the legislative histories, Mike’s fear suddenly left him. He felt a peace that he didn’t understand. He noticed a dusty old book on the work table near him. Out of sheer curiosity he opened the book and leafed through the thin pages. There appeared to be a number of individual sections, each with a number grid. Mike’s eyes widened. This must be a Bible, he thought. He vaguely remembered reading one a long time ago. He came to a section called “Acts”. Act 726? Did Seth mean Acts 7:26?
Mike read the account of a young Semetic man who spoke to a foreigner about Jesus Christ.
Mike continued on to the legislative histories so the guards peering at the internal security monitors would not get suspicious. But he couldn’t stop thinking about that incident on the Gaza road, and how that incident paralleled the last few hours of Mike’s life.
Mike scribbled a few pages of notes and left the paper library. The foreigner on the Gaza road wound up being baptized in water. What did that mean? Mike had heard rumors of an underground church that met at the University. Somehow he knew that he would have the courage to visit that church.
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