CHAPTER 5
Minutes later, the Dalys approached the Wailing Wall, silent and devoid of people. Ryan and Kristen crept on their heels, carrying their babies.
“Please, God,” Christina whispered, “do something about David before it’s too late.” She could only hope that the witnesses would be able to give them sound counsel. A man’s soul was at stake, as was his relationship with his sister.
Richard paused, then nodded toward the two witnesses, backs ramrod-straight and shoulders squared, watching them with a steady gaze. “It looks as if they’re expecting us.” Rachel hung back, fear in her eyes.
“Then we mustn’t keep them waiting.” Ryan chuckled, then patted Rachel’s shoulder, coaxing a smile onto her face. “Come on, let’s go. They won’t hurt you, Rachel; they know you’re a child of God. Here, take Nicole, would you? She’s getting heavy.”
Rachel swallowed. “Yes, sir.” She accepted the squirming baby from her uncle and cradled Nicole against her shoulder.
The group approached the two witnesses, who stood stock-still, not making a sound. Their shoes clicked on the rectangular stone tiles as they scurried toward the two preachers. When Moishe and Eli were five feet away, Moishe raised his hand to halt them. Silently, the visitors came to a stop. The witnesses approached till they were just two feet away from their visitors. The scent of ashes wafted toward Richard’s nose as the two preachers faced the five American tourists.
“God will make a way into the man’s heart,” Moishe announced. “Love him; pray for him.”
“Do as they say.” Tess appeared near them, bathed in Heavenly light. “They speak God’s own words to you. That’s what David needs right now. And pray for Deborah, too.”
The witnesses nodded, then returned to their spot at the corner of the Wailing Wall. Knowing that Moishe and Eli had no more to say, the Dalys and the Whittakers returned to David’s house, escorted by Tess. “I will see you tomorrow,” she promised them.
The next morning, after breakfast, David announced that Elijah Dayan had a big job for him. “He wants me to help him and Puccini find a way to get to the—the madmen.” He paused to strike a match against its box, then to hold its flame to a cigarette. He took a long puff, then continued. “Since I’ve spent so much time at the Wailing Wall myself, I’ve come to know the area quite well. I’m to help Puccini find a suitable spot from which to kill them.” He smiled, yet a hard light gleamed in his eyes. “I will be glad to see them dead! I hate them!”
He paced the living room back and forth, his shoes making soft thuds in the carpet, cigarette smoke gradually filling the living room with its acrid smell. Christina winced, then waved her hand to ward off the smoke. Exchanging worried glances with Richard, she slowly approached David and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Please, David,” she said softly, “don’t do this. Puccini is plotting murder, and you don’t need to be involved in such a plot.”
“You sure don’t,” Ryan agreed. “When the time comes, they will only be dead for a few days anyway, David. Then God will resurrect them and call back to Heaven. In full view of everybody.”
“Shut up!” David glared at him, then at the others. “Don’t tell me any more fables from your Christian Bible! When Puccini is done, those two will not torment us anymore. That is all that matters. No more plagues, no more drought, no more water turning to blood, and no more people being incinerated by fire. And no more of that repulsive heresy they preach!”
His face turned beet-red; he smashed the cigarette against a nearby plastic ash tray, then picked up his prayer shawl and draped it around his shoulders. “I mean it. No more!” He stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him.
“Don’t worry.” Tess materialized in the Weizmann living room. “Just remember, God is in control. He is working on David, although you can’t see it yet. Just keep loving him and praying for him, as Moses and Elijah told you to do. God will do the rest.”
With a weary sigh, Christina nodded. “We’re all so worried about David.” She bit her lower lip. “If he’s capable of throwing his own sister out of their house, there’s no telling how he’ll react to us if we try to dissuade him any further. He could get himself killed, doing this.”
Tess perched on the armchair beside her. The mattress sagged underneath as she leaned forward, eyes fixed on Christina’s face. “Baby, you’re not going to like hearing this, but this time, Puccini will succeed.” She looked from person to person, as deep pain etched their faces. “Their time is up, and the Book of Revelation has forecast their murder. But it also forecasts their resurrection, three-and-a-half days later. Then God will call them back up to Heaven.”
Richard nodded. “When is it going to happen?”
“Very soon.” Tess rose to her feet. “All you can do, now, is pray for David and for his sister.”
“Is that what God wants me to do, too?” Rachel scratched her neck.
Tess approached her, a warm light in her eyes. “Baby, that’s what God wants all of you to do.” Rachel nodded acquiescence. Tess patted her shoulder, then vanished.
A few days later, Richard called a meeting of the two families. “I think it’s time we found another place to stay.” He gazed at the early-morning sun pouring through the living-room window. David had already left for work 15 minutes earlier; the faint scent of cigarette smoke still hung in the air. David hadn’t exchanged over five words with Richard as the two had gotten dressed. Nor had he treated the guests with the same friendly courtesy since their confrontation a few days before. The early-morning sunlight poured golden beams through the living-room window. "David's going to kill himself with those cigarettes," he muttered, scowling.
"He sure is." Ryan nodded agreement. “And I agree. For the last two days, I’ve sensed that David’s not so happy to have us here as he was in the beginning. Guess our attempts to persuade him not to help Puccini set up the murder didn’t sit too well with him.” He smiled wryly. “He knows we’re in complete sympathy with his sister. And he doesn’t like it one bit.”
“Neither does he like it that we don’t approve of what he’s helping Puccini to get ready to do,” Kristen added.
Rachel screwed her face. “But where will we go?” She cradled her teen study Bible in her lap. She’d been reading it when her mother called her into the living room a few minutes before. She pressed the palm of her left hand against the soft cushion underneath; it sank beneath her hand’s pressure.
Christina touched her arm. “We’ll just have to go to a hotel, sweetheart. For now, anyway.”
“And after that, we’re going to have to make more permanent arrangements,” Richard added. “I have a feeling we won’t be going back to New York anytime soon.”
Ryan sighed. “No, and neither will my family be returning to Rome. The day we left for Israel, I took the liberty of purchasing some gold from a friend of mine before Puccini had a chance to freeze our account. I dared not spend all of our bank account on gold, lest he become suspicious.”
“Wise move, Ryan.” Richard glanced at his wife, then back at Ryan. “Our bank accounts won’t do us much good for long, anyway. Our gold may not, either. Once the mark is set up, we’re going to be forced to trust the Lord just for survival.” He folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head.
“Where will we go?” Rachel asked again, scratching her forehead. She dug the toes of her slippers into the thick tufts of carpet underneath.
Ryan leaned back in the armchair. “I suggest we find out where Deborah is staying, and go there.” He smiled. “She’d love to have us for moral support, I’m sure.”
Christina chuckled. “That won’t be hard, Ryan. Tess told me, the other day, where she was staying.” She paused. “In fact, she suggested that we might want to consider staying there, too.”
Richard rose to his feet. “Come on, then. Let’s pack our things and go there. I’ll leave a note for David.”
______
“Spread the map over my desk, David.” Elijah opened the drapes covering the office window.
Nodding David unrolled the map of the Wailing Wall and spread it over his employer’s mahogany desk. For five minutes, the two men peered over it silently.
“Look at this spot.” David pointed to a corner of the Wailing Wall. “The preachers usually do their preaching over here, with their backs toward that side of the wall.” He glanced at Dayan, who nodded. “If a sniper were to hide on that corner of the roof, he could easily take care of the two men with a high-powered rifle.”
Elijah nodded. “Then let’s do it! Today.” He patted David’s arm. “I’ll take over from here; you’ve done your job. Thank you, and shalom.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and drew out a cigarette. "For your trouble." He handed the cigarette to David.
David beamed his thanks, then nodded. “Shall I leave you the map?” Dayan nodded.
As David left Dayan’s office, satisfaction surged in his heart. This will be a day always remembered, he thought, smiling. The world will be rid of those two men, at last! Unknown to him, an invisible Tess watched him go, disapproval etched on her face. Raising her face toward the ceiling, she shook her head.
Meanwhile, back at the hotel Tess ran, Deborah knelt by her bed, praying. She hadn’t been able to stop worrying, despite her best efforts to turn the whole matter over to the Lord. She had recently heard that her brother was helping his employer, Dayan, make plans for the murder of Moishe and Eli; he might be helping Dayan this very day. That could only get him killed if he took part, she feared. She hated feeling so helpless to save him, to reach him, to do anything except pray.
Rising to her feet, she wiped her face, then approached the wall. Taking a deep breath, she laid trembling hands on the smooth, cool surface of her mahogany nightstand, and lowered her head.
“Please, God,” she said, “don’t let my brother do this! Don’t let David take part in this wicked plot. Please get through to him. He’s deceived, Jehovah—he doesn’t know who Your Son is. Please open his heart. In Yeshua’s name, amen.”
“He will, Deborah.”
END OF CHAPTER 5