CHAPTER 3
Several hours later, Monica and Tess huddled together for a quick consultation in a corner of the dining room before Daniel arrived. “Tess, I’m worried,” Monica confessed. “I have a bad feeling about Daniel Rosen, and it’s not just because he wants to kill Moses and Elijah.” She rested her fingers on the polished surface of the mahogany table she leaned against.
Tess nodded agreement. “I do, too, Angel Girl, but we cannot act until the Father gives the orders. We know he’s up to something, but we don’t know what, yet. Right now, we’re on standby.”
Several feet behind them, Monica overheard Richard and Ryan whispering. “Ryan, be careful what you say in there,” Richard warned. “I know you’ll want to share with us what Puccini’s up to, but we don’t know if Daniel Rosen can keep his mouth shut, nor do we know what his feelings are about Puccini.” Antonio Puccini was the president of Italy and of the European Union; with the help of the Israeli foreign minister, Elijah Dayan, and of the pope, he was in the process of rapidly forming a world government.
“I agree,” Ryan said. “Don’t worry about me letting any vital secrets out of the bag. I wouldn’t reveal to Kristin my true feelings about Puccini until I was sure about her, and I won’t reveal them to Dan, either, unless I’m 100% sure of him. I’ll share with everyone only what’s safe to share.”
Minutes later, everyone gathered at a large round table near the corner of the dining room; Christina and Kristen set their purses on the floor next to their legs. A glistening snow-white tablecloth draped it, hanging from its side. A waiter took their orders, then Richard leaned back.
“Well, this is a trip I will always remember.” He smiled. He had donned a dark-brown polyester suit, as had Ryan. Amused, Monica noticed that while Richard appeared relaxed and comfortable in his clothes, Ryan sat ramrod-straight with a gritted-teeth expression on his face and his hands clenched.
Poor Ryan! Monica thought. He always did hate formal clothes. She bit back a chuckle, then looked up as the waiter brought their drinks.
When he left, Monica gazed into her cup of mocha-latté coffee. Wisps of steam arose from its surface.
“So will I, Richard.” Shifting position on his unyielding hard-back chair, Ryan smiled at his new wife, who beamed back. “What better place than Israel to have a honeymoon? Even if it is in these!” He glanced down at his tie, then grimaced. “Forgive me, guys; you know that suits and I don’t go well together.”
Richard chuckled. “We know, Ryan.” He patted Ryan’s arm.
Daniel smiled, yet no smiled appeared in his eyes. “Congratulations, Mr. Whittaker--”
“Ryan,” Ryan interrupted. “Call me Ryan.”
Daniel nodded. “Ryan. I just wanted to congratulate you, and I hope you’ll have many happy years together.”
Ryan laid a hand on Kristen’s arm. “Thank you. That is our hope, too.” He glanced inquiringly at Andrew, who shrugged. Monica knew what Andrew meant. Now that the Tribulation had officially started, a long, happy mortal life was no guarantee for anyone. Only a minority of Tribulation believers--maybe 50 million--would live to enter the kingdom as mortals. All others, both believers and unbelievers, would either die in the judgments or as martyrs. She took a sip of her steaming coffee; the cup clinked as she set it back in the saucer.
Gloria raised a sparkling glass of iced tea. “Well, I know that God will enable you to make your marriage successful for as long as He gives you.”
Chuckling, Ryan nodded agreement. “Kristen, here, works as a secretary; that’s how I met her. Well, she’s not only the most wonderful woman in the world--as far as I’m concerned--she’s a true professional. She handles her job with élan.” He smiled proudly at his wife. “And I might add she wears any clothing she puts on with class.”
Kristen blushed, yet pleasure shone in her eyes. She put her right hand on Ryan’s. “Thank you,” she told him. She rested her other hand on the table, elbow off.
Richard glanced at his wife. “My wife is a wonderful woman, too, and has been since the day I first met her.” He chuckled. “Christina is a loving, faithful wife and a loving mother. And she’s going to make a great children’s home supervisor.” In response, Christina kissed him.
Leaning back in his chair, Ryan’s face turned sober. In that instant, Monica felt toes kick her ankle; Ryan gave her an apologetic glance. “We do have some wonderful families, which is good, because we’re going to need family support more than ever. Right now--well, all I can say is, we are in for some interesting times.” He turned to Daniel. “Did I tell you I work for Antonio Puccini as his private pilot?”
Daniel shook his head. “No, you didn’t.” He gazed at Ryan in evident wide-eyed wonderment. “So you work for the king of the world, now?”
Ryan shrugged. He rested his right hand on the table. “He’s not the king of the world yet, but he’s just about to be. He certainly has the world in the palm of his hand, after resolving the Middle East crisis and bringing a stop to all war, and making it possible for the Jews to start rebuilding their temple.” He chuckled. “Well, in answer to your question, Dan--yes, I do; I was hired just a few months ago. And Kristen, here, works as his secretary.”
He turned to the others. “Events are moving at breakneck speed. Puccini, by the way, knows about our marriage now; before we could come to Israel, he called us in to congratulate us. He‘s here in Israel, as you know; I flew him in on our way to our honeymoon.” The others nodded. Ryan shrugged. “Oh, well, we knew we couldn’t keep it a secret from him forever. At least he hasn’t fired us for marrying. That’s good.”
Daniel smiled wryly. “Puccini has a rule against employees romancing each other?”
Ryan shrugged. “We didn’t know, and we didn’t want to find out. At this point, it doesn’t matter, because, for better or worse, we’re husband and wife now. Well, anyway, Puccini told me, privately, that as soon as every nation’s under the control of the European Union--which will be finalized within the next two weeks--he’s going to have the whole world move to the Euro. No more dollars, pounds, marks, francs, pesos, yens, or any other currency. Just Euros. He’s going to announce it on CNN in his next press conference.”
Christina bit her lower lip. “It’s going to feel funny to spend Euros at the grocery store, instead of dollars.” She patted her hair.
Ryan took a swallow of his steaming coffee. He winced in evident pain as he did so. “Yeah, it will, but you won’t have occasion to for long, Brownie. Puccini also told me that, as soon as that’s done, he’s going to see about having the whole world moved to a cashless system. No more spending cash or writing checks; no more making purchases with credit cards.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Everyone will be given a debit card--you know, like a Smart card--to swipe under a scanner whenever they make a purchase, and the amount of the purchase will simply be deducted from their bank account.” He shook his head.
“One other thing.” He paused. “Our debit cards are going to double as identity cards. In the aftermath of the disappearances and all the deaths that followed, Puccini feels strongly about being able to identify everyone who’s left.”
Everyone else exchanged troubled glances. Monica and Tess stared at each other, then Monica gazed down at her china coffee cup. Nobody dared to say so in front of Daniel, but all knew what that meant. When Antonio set up the Mark of the Beast system in the latter half of the Tribulation, there would be no need to set up a one-world currency or a cashless system with it, because both would already be in place. And so, for that matter, would be an identity system. Instead of using debit cards, everyone would be required to receive an implant in his right hand or forehead; those who refused would be unable to buy or sell. Their accounts would be frozen, so that no transactions could be conducted with their debit cards. Whoever accepted the mark would have their eternal fate sealed, and whoever overtly refused to accept the implant would be executed via beheading.
Silently, Monica prayed, Father, give the Dalys and the Whittakers the strength to refuse when the time comes. And please open Daniel’s eyes, before it’s too late. Tess squeezed her hand; Monica smiled her thanks. Tess’s warm hand always felt comforting at such times.
Silence fell over the group as their food arrived; the waiter set gleaming china plates, piled with food, in front of each customer. For the next half-hour, everyone was too busy eating to talk. Seated between Christina and Rachel, Daniel surreptitiously glanced at Rachel several times, as he had during the tour. A warm glow appeared in his eyes whenever he did so. Engrossed in her hamburger, Rachel paid no attention to him.
When the dessert was served, Richard cleared his throat. “Well, Dan, you’ve heard our stories. Would you like to tell us about yourself?” He leaned back as he spoke, rubbing his hair front to back.
Daniel took a bite of his pie. He laid the fork down, then wiped his mouth. “Well, I’ve already told you a little about my daughter.” He paused. “Heather, as I said earlier, was Rachel’s age when she died. And my late wife, Ruth, died of cancer, when Heather was just nine years old.” Sadness filled his eyes. “She was a wonderful woman, too. Like Kristen and Christina. I loved her dearly.”
He paused again. Deep pain welled up in his eyes. “Heather was killed in a boiler explosion at the elementary school, a year ago. During the lunch hour. Every teacher and most of the children were killed in that explosion, including my daughter. She was just 12 years old.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, then turned to Rachel. “She was a lot like you, Rachel. Truth to tell, you remind me so much of her. She was sweet-natured, same as you are. And she loved to read, like you.”
Rachel smiled. “I wish she was still alive, so we could be friends.”
“I wish she was, too.” Daniel shook his head. “That explosion devastated the whole town. It’s never been able to recover from it. And neither have I. And the mass disappearances have just made things even worse.”
Monica gazed at him, deep pain welling in her heart. “That’s terrible, Dan. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, Monica.” Daniel took another shuddering breath, then scanned the table, looking at the adults surrounding him. For a long moment, he just sat there, looking from one to another.
“One of the teachers was the wife of a good friend of mine. Wayne Machulis was his name,” he finally said. “We’d known each other ever since he’d moved to Ascension with his brother, Joey, a few years before. Joey was--uh, mentally retarded; my Heather used to befriend him. He was out of high school, and he used to help out at the elementary school on a part-time basis. After the explosion, he took a job at the local restaurant. He stopped speaking totally; none of us ever heard him speak again.”
Monica and Tess exchanged startled glances. Not their Wayne and Joey Machulis! Was it? Monica put her hand to her mouth and coughed. Tess gave her a warning glance. Monica sipped her coffee again, then set the slowly-cooling cup on its saucer.
“Dan,” Monica asked, carefully, “was Wayne a singer?” She fingered her coffee cup as she spoke. It clinked as it titled sideways, then regained its balance.
Daniel glanced at her, a quizzical expression in his eyes. “He had a great singing voice and a way with a guitar, but he didn’t make his living at it, no. He was the county sheriff in Ascension; in his old hometown, he owned a lumberyard. His big job was looking after his brother, because Joey was too impaired to live on his own.” He looked away from Monica, picking up his wine glass as he spoke. He gulped down some wine.
Richard and Christina stared at Monica, then at Tess. “Did you know them, Monica?” Christina asked.
Monica smiled. “Yes. Tess and I met them in their old home town, more than once.” She and Tess exchanged glances. “None of us had heard that Wayne and Joey had moved to Colorado.”
“Well, they had. His wife lived here, and Wayne married her. Her name was Judy.” Daniel paused, staring into his half-filled wine glass. Rachel took a swallow of her lemonade; her glass landed with a soft thud on the tablecloth when she set it down. “My wife got to know them before I did; she worked as a realtor, and she helped them find a house to live in. She was a wonderful woman, a good Jew--I wish you could have met her.“ He cleared his throat.
“Soon, Wayne and I were visiting each other’s homes and going out together. We’d go bowling, watch football at each other’s homes, play checkers, you name it. The one thing we didn’t do together was go to church; he did, with Joey, but I went to synagogue. Well, after the explosion, Wayne and I spent a lot of time together, trying to console each other. We were going through the same thing, you understand. And then, when the disappearances took place, back in August, Wayne and Joey disappeared. Just vanished into thin air, along with quite a few other townspeople. And people all over the world.”
Monica hid a pleased smile. To learn that Wayne and Joey were among the Raptured was great news, indeed. Thank You, God! I hope Charley is with them, too. Charley, as she recalled, was Wayne and Joey's other brother. Until the time of Monica and Tess's first visit to their town, Charley had worked as a con artist.
Deep sadness followed on the heels of her pleasure. She remembered Wayne and Joey with such fondness, and it pleased her greatly that they were in Heaven, now, enjoying new resurrection bodies (and that Joey was enjoying a new and improved intellect), but she hated to see Daniel suffer so. It wasn’t hard to guess that, with the loss of his good friend, Wayne, Daniel had lost the one support system that had sustained him in his grief. She vowed silently to do whatever was in her power (and whatever the Father allowed) to help him heal. She took one last swallow of her coffee, then pushed the coffee cup to the side.
Christina exchanged a glance with Monica, then gazed at the grief-stricken man. “Dan,” she said, softly, “have you turned to God? He can comfort you, you know. He’s comforted Richard and me.” She paused. “Our baby daughter was taken in the disappearances, so we know what you’re going through. Her name was Jessica. She was less than a year old.” Across the table, Monica and Tess exchanged proud glances. Andrew smiled approvingly; next to him, Gloria nodded agreement.
Bitterness creased Daniel’s forehead. “How can I? He could have prevented it, and He didn’t!” He glared at Christina, who winced.
He pursed his lips, then rested his face on his right hand. “I don’t understand.” His voice sounded muffled. He lifted his head, then shook it. “I’m a good Jew; at least, I try to be. I’ve always tried to follow the Law, as a good Jew should. Why didn’t God stop the explosion from occurring? I didn’t tell you this, but some in Ascension think it was a deliberate act. Joey talked about seeing a man at the school; I can’t help but wonder if that man didn’t sabotage the boiler, murdering the children.” His face turned red. “And then, the disappearances--the awful disappearances! Millions of people gone, all over the world, including every baby and child! Including my own two good friends. I’ve heard some people say that God took them, but answer me this--why would a God of love do such a thing?”
He glared at the others as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Why would He take all these people and worry everyone else like this?” His voice choked. “It’s His fault! He could have prevented all this, and He didn’t.” His fist thudded as he slammed it on the table.
Christina rested her hand on his arm. “It’s all right, Dan.” She sighed. “I know it hurts, but you’re not alone.”
Daniel sighed. “Thanks, Christina. Sorry, didn’t mean to spout of, so.” He looked down at the pie, then took another bite.
Minutes later, the group arose; Richard and Ryan paid the checks. As the adults filed out the dining room, Rachel fell behind; glancing down at the thick carpet flattened underneath her brown leather shoes, she saw that one of her shoes had come untied. She stopped just inside the side lobby entrance, bent over to tie then, then straightened upward. Her parents and the others had gone upstairs; she had better catch up with them!
“Rachel?” Daniel appeared beside her. “I could use a favor. Before you join your parents upstairs, would you help me with something?”
Rachel shrugged. “Sure.” She followed Daniel through the lobby, and out the door. A cool night breeze caressed her forehead and ruffled her bangs. She saw Daniel’s car parked in front of the entrance.
As she paused to look around, Daniel grabbed her from behind. Rachel squirmed in his arms as he dragged her toward the car. When she tried to scream, he clapped his left hand over her mouth.
END OF CHAPTER 3