New Hope, Carmel...

Joss & Sons’ Woodworks

 

Jesse looked around the shop one last time. He loved this place. He grew up watching his stepdad work, while he sat on the floor, hammering away with his toys—his tiny tools—copying his every move. When he grew older, Joss taught him how to measure, how to drive a nail into the wood, how to drill, how to screw a hinge in place, how to saw (without hacking off a part of his finger)... His stepfather taught him everything he knew about their trade—cabinetmaking. But that wasn’t all they made. They also made tables and chairs, bed frames... And then there were the damaged furniture. They repaired those as best they could. The Carpenter family prided itself in having “the best darned furniture shop in town.” Besides work in the shop, there were outside jobs too. Joss offered to install people’s doors and windows and Jesse would sometimes come along to help. Sometimes father and son would hire themselves out to construction companies—be a part of the construction team. But Joss’s main focus was on the shop—and providing for his wife Marian and their seven children. At thirteen, Jesse apprenticed at the shop. By twenty-five, he had owned and managed it. It was what Joss wanted. He wanted Jesse to have the shop when he died. And now it was time for him to leave this place. Tomorrow, he would turn his back on this place forever. The transaction was complete. His 28-year-old brother James was now its new owner. It was the right thing to do. James was getting married soon. He needed the money. Besides, the time had come for Jesse to accept his true calling. He was going to save all of Carmel. No, not just Carmel. The whole world.

He swept and mopped the floor of the shop one last time, took off his apron and hung it on the hook on the wall, put the broom, dustpan and mop back in their proper places, turned off the light, then locked the door. He was closing the shop for the last time in his life. From here on in, James would be the one to do that. Then his children after him.

It was bittersweet and he didn’t want to get emotional over it. After all, he did love that place. Loved working there. Loved the memories he and Joss had made. But he knew what he had to do. And he knew it was the right thing to do. So he resolutely turned his back on the shop, not even daring to look back.

Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts.

“So... You’re really doing this, huh?” It was his brother Jude. He was three years James’s junior and five years Jesse’s junior.

“I finally am,” Jesse responded somberly, nodding.

“No turning back?” Jude asked, surprised his brother would really do such a thing.

“No,” Jesse answered with resolve in his voice. “No turning back.”

“Where do you go from here?”

“I’m going to see John.”

“Cousin John?”

“Reverend John,” Jesse corrected.

“Oh, that’s right!” Jude said, a gleam in his eye. “I heard he was a weird preacher-man now.”

“Please, Jude,” Jesse said sternly but gently. “Don’t call him that.”

“What! It’s true!” Jude retorted. “Who lives out in the desert in a camper, living off of grasshoppers and honey? And what’s he wearing? Last time I saw him on the news I think it was burlap. Talk about agony there! Isn’t that itchy?”

“He has a job to do. And it’s locusts, not grasshoppers.”

Something in Jesse’s tone silenced Jude.

“Sorry. You’re right,” Jude said. “I shouldn’t make fun of him. He does have a job to do.”

“Let’s head home before dinner get’s cold,” Jesse said, smiling warmly at his brother.

“Yes, let’s,” Jude said. “I just wish he’d wear something...nicer. You know? Like awesome stuff?”

“This coming from the kid who got nothing but hand-me-downs growing up,” Jesse said, laughing. Jude punched him playfully on the shoulder then laughed. They laughed and talked as they walked home.

“Only you would do something as crazy as this, you know?” Jude said after a long moment of awkward silence when all the laughter had died down. “What are you gonna be—King of Carmel? Overthrow our foreign masters?”

“You don’t understand my mission, Jude. Nobody does,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “But they will some day. And you will—someday.”

“By the way... Did you deliberately stay behind in Central City when you were twelve just to talk to the religious leaders? I think that was one of the craziest things you’ve ever done.”

“Yes, I did stay behind,” Jesse said, nodding. “Like I told Mom and Dad then... I was carrying out my Father’s business.”

“You were teaching the elders carpentry?” Jude said, shaking his head.

Jesse chose to say nothing.

 

___

 

Princeton Town, 30 years earlier...

 

“Why did you insist on coming with me, Marian?” Joss asked, as they drove around, looking for the Carmel Census Bureau. “You’re nine months pregnant, for crying out loud!”

“Joss, please,” Marian replied. “You know how vicious those gossips back home are.”

“Look,” Joss sighed. “It’s not like I’m going to be here forever. It’ll be only a night or two at a B&B, maybe a day on the road going back... Before you know it, I’ll be home. And I can give those clackety chickens a telling off they’ll never forget!”

That made Marian laugh. Joss was such a loving man—a loving husband. There was no doubt he would be a loving father to their children—especially to this one.

“Now,” Joss said. “Stay in the car while I fill up some paperwork, get checked by a guard, and then we can find a decent local B&B.”
“Joss,” Marian said, with a sigh, “I don’t need a B&B! What I need is an Emergency Room!”

Joss chuckled.

“Relax, Mama Bear. We’re getting there.”

“Hurry up, Joss!” Marian said, teeth grinding together. She was going into labor. “Joss!”

“I’ll be right there!” Joss said, as he ran into the building.

There was some trouble at the Bureau and the guards gave Joss a hard time. It was just a misunderstanding, however. It appears there was another Joss Carpenter—someone with a bad reputation. Wanted for instigation of public riots, illegal possession of firearms, attempted takeover of government, theft, murder... He wanted nothing to do with the Republic of Arges. To Hell with them! Whoever this guy was, he was a dead man—he better not show his face in Princeton Town. Better not set foot on it. They thought it was Joss. They almost had him detained and questioned. But after clearing the matter up, Joss was on his way.

Now, to find a B&B... Or a hospital...

“Joss!” Marian screamed. “My water bag just broke!”

“Crud,” Joss muttered under his breath. He slammed on the brakes and got out of the car, running over to Marian’s side. He opened her door and scooped her up into his strong arms. He was used to heavy weights by now. He had been carrying piles of wood since he was seven. A pregnant woman was no different to him. He could carry Marian as much as he could carry lumber.

“Breathe,” he told her. “We’re almost there.”

“You!” an employee of the Bureau stopped him. “You can’t leave your car here!”

“Mail me the ticket—my wife’s pregnant!”

“Princeton scum,” the employee mumbled.

Joss jogged down the street, looking for the nearest bed-and-breakfast. The sign read “NO VACANCY”, in large, neon, red letters. It was full. He was directed to another one down the road. Upon asking at the front desk, he was told every room was occupied. They were so full they looked more like an evacuation center with triage during a national emergency than a proper bed-and-breakfast. They said they would help if they could. But they couldn’t.

This went on and on for what seemed like millennia—people turning them down, Marian screaming, hotel owners being grumpy, help desks not being very helpful... Finally, there was an opening. It was at a place called “Jorge’s Motel.”

“I can help you and your wife,” the owner, Jorge said. “Sorry, folks. I know I don’t have a place for you—but the barn’s as safe as any.”

“Anywhere’s better than nowhere,” Marian said, her teeth clamped together from the pain.

“I’m really sorry we don’t have room,” Jorge repeated, apologetically. “Really, I—”

“Just lead us to the blasted barn!” Joss shouted.

“S-sorry,” Jorge said, leading the way across the field to his barn. “Right this way.”

Marian screamed yet again.

“M-my wife’s a-a-a midwife!” Jorge offered. “I can go fetch her for you if you’d like.”

“Thank you,” Joss said, accepting the offer. “That’s very kind of you.”

 

___

 

Netherfield Ranch, just outside Princeton Town...

 

“When do we get paid for this?” Andrew Croy, one of the shepherds complained.

“Soon,” a fellow shepherd said. “When these sheep grow up and are brought to the market—so stop yer yappin’ and keep at it.”

Croy, however, wasn’t listening.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kyle, his companion, asked.

The distracted shepherd pointed skyward with a shaky finger.

Warm, brilliant, white light burst like an explosion, surrounding them. It lit up the area for miles. It was like staring at the sun—like morning had suddenly broken in the middle of the night. The sheep were startled and ran helter-skelter. A voice boomed from the sky, coming from the man in the vision.

“Don’t be afraid!” the angel said, “I bring you good news of great joy! This is for all people!”

The sheepherders just sat there, dumbstruck.

“Today, in Princeton Town, a baby has been born—Carmel’s Messiah!”

The Messiah? Can it really be? The one who will overthrow Carmel’s oppressors and establish her as a nation once more?

“How do we find him?” one of the men asked.

“You will find him in a barn, wrapped in swaddling clothes.”

Swaddling clothes? Kyle thought. Who still uses those in these days?

Suddenly, the bright light that surrounded them grew intensely brighter—multiplied ten thousand times it seems. They had to shield their eyes. Then they heard beautiful voices—divine voices. It was better than any choir they had heard on earth. Even better than the temple singers they had in Central City.

“Glory to God in the highest,” they sang, “And on earth peace and goodwill to men on whom His favor dwells.”

And just as soon as they had appeared, they vanished. Heavenly choir and all. Everything was still and only the chirping of the crickets and rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. That, and the bleating of sheep. That brought them out of their stupor. One of them, Jonah, shook his head vigorously as if trying to wake himself up from sleep.

“Was that a dream?” he asked.

“It was more than a dream,” Kyle said, awe and reverence in his voice. “It’s a dream come true... Messiah... Our Deliverer-King, who will free Carmel from her Argessi oppressors...”

“Something tells me it was as real as flesh and bone too,” Andrew Croy said. “Let’s check this thing out.”

“Let’s herd the sheep back to their pen first,” Kyle suggested.

The four young men herded the sheep back into their pen. After closing the gate, they hurried, piling into Andrew’s truck, and made their way to Princeton Town.

 

___

 

“Push!” Carissa, Jorge’s wife, said. “More! Almost there!”

Marian pushed hard and screamed.

“Push!” the midwife encouraged her. “I can see the head! Push!”

Again, Marian screamed.

“Almost there! Push! Push!”

Marian kept on pushing, kept on screaming. Already close... Just a little bit more... A few minutes more and the barn was filled with the cries of a baby.

“It’s a boy,” Carissa said, handing the crying infant to its mother. “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you some linen for the baby.”

“Thank you,” Mary said, smiling warmly. Marian could not believe it. Carmel’s deliverer... In her arms... Tonight... Such a small, helpless child...

“Is this... Is this real?” Joss asked aloud. “Can it...”

“Yes, it is,” Marian said, nodding.

“When will we know?” Joss wondered. “Will it be a word he says? A deed he does? A proclamation he makes?”

“No one knows, Joss. Only God does.”

“He has your nose,” Joss said, touching the infant’s nose softly, making Marian smile.

 

___

 

Present day, New Hope...

 

Jesse busied himself, packing. He had to catch a train to Bayview at seven in the morning. He knew thousands of people would come to see John. He had to get there just in time. He wanted John to be the one to inaugurate his mission. His plan was to pack as much as possible before dinner. After dinner, if there were other things to pack, he would continue packing. Then he would spend the rest of the night praying. And then he would sleep. He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he called, looking up. It was Marian.

“Do you...” Marian began. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Jesse nodded.

“Bayview. To visit John.”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Marian asked.

“My train leaves at seven. So I need to be there by six, or 6:30.”

“Who’s going to drive you?”

“James volunteered to drop me off,” Jesse said. “Then I’ll be on my way.”

“Where will you stay there?” Marian asked. She knew her son was already a man and the time had come to let him go but she couldn’t.

“I have no idea yet. I’ll probably rent a place there somewhere... Maybe stay with John in his trailer out by the desert...”

“Make sure you have enough money,” Marian reminded him.

“I have enough to buy my ticket and just enough money to last me three weeks,” Jesse said.

“You’ve grown up so fast,” Marian said with a sigh and a bitter smile, picking up a framed picture of them—Joss, Marian, a 12-year-old Jesse, and a 10-year-old James. “Do you remember this photo? This was taken a week before we went to Central City.”

Jesse laughed. How could he forget?

 

___

 

Central City, Carmel...

Independence Week

 

The festivities were now over. It was the last day of the long holiday and Joss and Marian were already packing, ready to go back to New Hope. Marian’s cousin Ellie opened the door to their hotel room.

“You ready to go?” she said, peering in. “Zach’s got the van running, thanks to Joss’s repair skills.”

“Don’t mention it,” Joss said. “And, yeah, we’re ready.”

“Where’s Jesse?” Marian asked.

“Probably saying goodbye to some new friends he’s made,” Joss suggested. “He knows where Zach parked. He’ll find his way down there.”

With that, Marian zipped up the last of the suitcases and they were good to go.

“Here,” Zach, Ellie’s husband said, squeezing his way through. “I’ll take these.”

“Thank you,” Joss said. “That’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome,” Zach said.

Joss took his and Jesse’s suitcases and followed Zach out to the parking structure.

 

___

 

The next day...

 

“John, have you seen your cousin?” Joss asked the 13-year-old boy.

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “I haven’t seen him at all. Isn’t he with us?”

“That’s what your Cousin Marian and I thought,” Joss said. “Marian? Marian! Have you found him yet?”

“He’s not here,” Marian said, frantic.

“Call your sister Sally,” Joss suggested. “Maybe he’s with Zeke and the twins.”

Marian nodded and called Sally and Zeke.

“Jimmy, this is Marian,” Marian said. “I was wondering if Jesse was with you... No?”

Joss shot her a startled look. He wasn’t with Jimmy and Jonny? Where was he then?

“Call your parents,” Ellie said, after Marian hung up. “We all know how fond your father is of the boy.”

Marian followed Ellie’s suggestion and called her parents. Negative. They thought Jesse was with them already. They hadn’t seen him since the end of the Festival.

“Go,” Zach said. “Take the van and go back to Central City. He may still be there.”

“I hope nothing’s happened to him,” Ellie said, heaving a sigh of worry.

“We better find him fast,” Marian said.

“Let’s go,” Joss said. “There’s no time to lose.”

“We’ll wait here,” Zach said. “Keep us posted.”

“Will do,” Joss said, nodding.

Marian and Joss made their way back to Central City, searching for Jesse. Even with the Festival ended, the bustling metropolis was still jam-packed with people. Shoppers traversed the sidewalks, curious people stared at the displays on storefront windows, angry drivers honked their horns at both fellow motorists and pedestrians, bums littered the streets and trash-filled alleys... It was impossible to find a 12-year-old boy in a city like this, with a population of nearly twenty-five million.

For three days, husband and wife sought frantically for their son, combing the streets of the great city from dawn to dusk. Joss had printed flyers and posters with Jesse’s face on it and a number to call. Marian would ask around if anyone saw a 12-year-old boy and proceed to describe Jesse—how he looked, his height, his weight... On the third day, they got a call. Someone had recognized Jesse, had seen him in the Temple.

“Joss Carpenter,” Joss said, as he picked up. “You saw our son? Where?”

Marian looked up instantly.

“The Temple? Are you positive?” Joss asked the caller. “He’s in the Temple... Alright... We’re on our way.”

“He’s in the Temple?” Marian said. “I should’ve known! Last year, he was talking about how it was his lifelong dream to debate with Carmel’s religious leaders.”

“Let’s go,” Joss said, grabbing the keys to the van.

 

___

 

“When you said you were doing your father’s work, your Dad and I didn’t understand at the time,” Marian said, setting the picture from down on Jesse’s bedside table. “But now I think I do. And you’re doing exactly just that... By going to see John.”

Jesse nodded.

“I wish you all the best,” Marian said, enveloping him in a hug.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jesse said, with a smile.

“Now, dinner’s ready,” Marian said. “We’re not starting without you.”

“I’ll be down there in a bit,” Jesse said, kissing Marian’s cheek.

2: The Mission Begins

“You ready?” James asked Jessie, poking his head through the door. “Car’s ready.”
Jesse looked up from prayer.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he said, picking up his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

“Sorry,” James said. “I had no idea you were in prayer.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Jesse said, smiling warmly at James. “Wait! One more thing... Jude!”

“Wazzup?” the 25-year-old said, coming out of his room, as drowsy as a drunk.

“Wake up, kiddo,” Jesse said, slapping him twice, gently. “Now, listen... I’m moving to Bayview. And in a couple of weeks, your brother’s going to get married. He’ll be responsible for his wife and kids. Now the responsibility of taking care of your brothers and sisters falls on you. Can you do that? Take care of them for me?”

“Yes, sir,” Jude said, nodding. “What do I tell the girls?”

“Tell them I had to leave early,” Jesse said. “And tell them I’ll miss them.”

“Will do,” Jude assured him.

“Alright,” Jesse said. “Now I really have to go.”

“Alright,” Jude said. “Take care, Jess!”

Jude didn’t think Jesse would notice, but he did. He shook his head as soon as Jesse turned to walk out the door. This...self-proclaimed mission of his was insane. A cabinetmaker as Carmel’s salvation and future king? No way. How’s he going to overthrow the Argessi? Chisels and hammers? Nails, drill bits, awls? Two-by-fours?

But their mother believed in him when nobody else did. Mary-Esther and Anne had faith in him. Anne was excited to be a princess—the king’s sister. King Jesse... Not a bad picture, Jude thought. He could definitely see that. He could almost see Jesse in a three-piece suit, with Carmel’s royal emblem pinned to the lapel of his jacket... Jesse’s coronation... Carmel’s Chief Priest placing the golden circlet on Jesse’s head to symbolize the beginning of his reign... The crown being kept in a box and placed in Jesse’s office, a reminder of his power... Jesse presiding over a council of war, maps and charts open on the table... It was a beautiful dream, Jude admitted. But it was just not possible. Maybe it was wishful thinking—everyone was prone to that. Especially everyone in Carmel. For generations, they had been waiting for a king who will put an end to the tyranny of the Republic of Arges and reestablish the throne of Carmel. There will be Royal Marines once more instead of Argessi guards... The King’s Own... The flag of Carmel flapping in the breeze in every business establishment in the nation... Many have tried before. Many so-called “messiahs” have come and gone. None have succeeded. They have all failed. Why would Jesse’s mission be any different? His name would just be added to the long list of Carmel’s insurrectionists.

Jesse shook his head. He knew what Jude was thinking. But he knew, too, that someday, Jude will understand his true mission. So will James.

“What?” James asked.

“Nothing,” Jesse said, getting inside the car. “Let’s go.”

“If you say so,” James said, starting the car. It roared to life and the brothers travelled down the familiar streets of their little town.

The drive to New Hope Station took fifteen minutes—a quiet drive, neither of them speaking. When they finally reached their destination, they were met by Argessi guards. They had set up barriers and a checkpoint.

“What’s all this about?” James asked, rolling down his window.

“Just do as we say and pop open your trunk, sir,” the irate officer said, gruffly. “And don’t ask any questions.”

James raised an eyebrow.

“Do it,” Jesse said, reminding his brother that they were still under Argesh and they had to comply, for the time being.

James nodded and opened the trunk. The officer motioned for two of his men to approach and inspect James’s car.  After what seemed to be like years, the guards slammed the trunk shut—slammed it so hard it rocked the car.

“Hey! This is my car!” James protested, angered at how carelessly they treated it.

“And this is our job—now move along before I have you shot or arrested. Or both.”

“You’re welcome,” James said, sarcastically, as he moved on to yet another checkpoint.

“Identification, please,” the man said. He had a more pleasant attitude than the guards at the previous checkpoint. James handed him his wallet and the guard looked at his Residency Card and then at his face.

“And your companion’s identifications?”

Jesse handed James his wallet, who in turn, handed it over to the guard.

“Very good,” the guard said. “You’re good to go. Have a safe trip.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said.

James rolled the window back up after taking their wallets from the guard. He gave Jesse his wallet. He pulled up at the entrance and put a hand on Jesse’s shoulder.

“Take care of yourself, Jess.”

“You too,” Jesse said. “And take care of your family.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“It’s what I was born to do, James. Mom knows. Dad knew.”

James nodded. He did not understand, but he pretended to. He hoped someday he would.

“Are you really leaving the shop to me?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “It’s my wedding gift to you.”

“Thank you,” James said, gripping Jesse’s hand.

“Don’t mention it. Now... I gotta go catch my train.”

“Of course,” James said, nodding. “See you at my wedding, Jess.”

“I’ll be there,” Jesse said, with a smile.

“You better be.”

 

Inside the station, there were more checkpoints and security personnel. Jesse was patted down himself.

“What’s going on?” he asked a man next to him as they waited on the platform for their trains.

“The Argessi are scared,” the man answered. “There’s news of another revolt.”

“Another one? When will these people learn?” Jesse said. The man jumped back as if stung by a snake.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his fellow traveler asked, red coloring his face. The man was furious, offended, as if Jesse’s words were directed at him.

“We can’t overthrow the Argessi,” Jesse answered. “Not in violent ways, at least.”

“What are we supposed to do?” the man asked. “Sit on our hands? Invite them for tea?”

“We should love them.”

The man laughed, a loud, hearty laugh, as though Jesse had just cracked the best joke he had ever heard in his life.

“Puh-lease! You have strange ideas up there in that head of yours, my brothah,” the man said, making the “you’re-a-cuckoo” gesture with his hand.

“Violence is never the answer,” Jesse said, calmly. “There are other ways, other solutions.”

“It is the answer when your oppressors have crossed the line! And they have—for decades!” the man replied. “I have heard other propositions and ideas, but not one as ridiculous as loving them. Love! Hah! What will that do?”

There was a long pause where neither man spoke. Finally, Jesse’s companion broke the silence.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sighing. “Look... You have very interesting ideas and I’d love to talk more about it. Unfortunately, I see my train rolling in.”

“Who knows?” Jesse said. “Maybe our paths may cross again someday.”

“Maybe,” the man said. “By the way, my name’s Jude. Jude Ingersoll.”

“Jesse,” Jesse said, shaking his new acquaintance’s hand.

“I’ll see you around, my friend,” Jude said.

Jesse shook his head when the man left. The people don’t understand—maybe they never will. Carmel didn’t need to be saved from Argesh. Carmel needed to be saved from itself. That was where Carmel’s true salvation lay. Then and only then could they be free indeed. Free at long last. In truth, they weren’t slaves to Argesh. They were slaves to themselves. Their own passions. Their own appetites.

 

___

 

“Show penitence!” Reverend John Barnaby shouted from the Bayview River, where he was submerged waist-deep. “Carmel’s salvation is near!”

And so he preached, day in and day out. He was bold in saying what needed to be said. He feared no one—not the Argessi soldiers who kept a close watch on him, not Carmel’s own priests and religious leaders, not Carmel’s puppet-king Alexander Harrington (who was the grandson of Geog Harrington, who had ordered the massacre of dozens of innocent baby boys under the age of two in Princeton Town). In fact, he was very vocal about his objections to the so-called king’s relations with his sister-in-law. It had been all over the news and Carmel’s rich and famous applauded the couple’s actions. They watched their lives as though it were a reality TV show. But John and sixty-five percent of Carmel’s people disapproved and deemed it disgusting. Only thirty-five percent of the population found Alexander and Helga Harrington’s misdeeds amusing.

Many people wondered who this Reverend Barnaby was. He seemed so obscure and yet so important—so powerful. He had a large following, with people singing his praise from Central City to the Bayview area. Crowds of people came out to meet him and hear him speak. Even the religious establishment was curious. Who was this man? And so they sent priests to ask this self-proclaimed Reverend who he was.

“Who are you?” agents from the Temple asked. “Are you Reverend Elias come back to life?”

“No,” he said, “No, I’m not!”

“Are you the Prophet that Carmel has been waiting for?” they asked once more.

“No, I am not!”

“Then who are you?” they asked. “We need answers here!”

“I am the voice of one crying in the desert!” John shouted. “Make a straight path for the Lord!”

“Then why are you performing these baptisms if you’re neither the One, nor someone like Elias, nor Carmel’s long-awaited Prophet?”

“I baptize with water,” John said, “But there is one coming that is greater than I am! I’m not even worthy to untie his shoes! He will baptize Carmel with fire!”

Then he went on, going on a tirade, calling the religious establishment a nest of snakes. He preached against the corrupt taxation system and against the cruel ways of the Argessi military.

“What are you suggesting we do?” the soldiers asked him.

“Stop taking anyone’s possessions either by force,” John replied, “or by trumped up charges! And be content with what you earn!”

 

___

 

It was a day before Jesse got to Bayview. After disembarking from the train, he took a rickety old bus mottled with rust stains and dusty windows. The seats were frayed, dusty, and hole-ridden. A hole in the floor showed passengers the road below. The vehicle was filled with all kinds of smell. Tobacco, halitosis, sweat, hookers’ heavy perfumes, urine, excrement... Infants were crying, young children were throwing tantrums, their parents scolding them, a couple having an argument, swearing, an old man mumbling and cursing under his breath... These were all broken, imperfect people. A stark reminder to Jesse of his mission and why he had come. Why he had been born thirty years ago that night in Princeton Town. His mission was clearer than ever. He knew what he had to do.

“This is your stop, mister,” the bus driver said, interrupting Jesse’s thoughts.

“Thank you,” he said, getting up. He stepped down from the bus and walked across the empty, dusty highway, to where he knew John had his camper. He had been there once before. To his surprise, there were tents and other recreational vehicles surrounding the Reverend’s camper.

These must be the people who have come to see him, Jesse thought.

“Can I help you?” a young man asked. He was a follower of John and had come to hear him.

“Yes,” Jesse said. “I’m looking for John. Do you know where he is?”

“Oh, he’s down by the river, performing his baptisms.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said.

“No problem,” the young man said. Just follow that trail and it’ll lead you right down to the river.”

Jesse followed the lad’s directions, and sure enough, he found himself on the banks of Bayview River, with thousands of people in front of him. He could hear John’s thundering voice.

“He will baptize Carmel with fire!” he was saying.

“Excuse me,” Jesse said, squeezing his way through the crowd. “Coming through. ‘Scuse me... Please, let me pass... Thank you...”

He made his way through the sea of multitudes with great difficulty, until finally, he was face to face with John. He was the one man on earth who understood his mission. Even Marian couldn’t understand sometimes. His own brothers didn’t believe him either. Certainly, men like Jude Ingersoll and Jesse Bargas, the man who had bombed the Argesh Embassy, didn’t.

“John,” Jesse said, arms wide open. “Baptize me.”

“Y-you...?” John asked, unsure. “You’re supposed to be the one baptizing me. I... I can’t baptize you.”

“I know this is the right thing to do, John,” Jesse said. “Baptize me.”

John nodded and Jesse waded into waters of the Bayview River. John put his hands on Jesse’s head and dunked him in the river’s cold waters. Silently, he offered up a prayer of thanks—thanks that the Savior of Carmel had come. He released his hold on Jesse’s head and Jesse came up out of the water. As he did so, a ray of sunlight shone on him and the people looked on in awe and amazed wonder as a dove, white and gleaming like snow, landed on his shoulder. More awe filled the people as a voice thundered from heaven.

“You are my Son,” the Voice declared. “And I am well pleased with you.”

3: Of Temptations, Armies, and Weddings

The tiny camper was filled with the echo of boisterous laughter as the cousins reminisced and talked late into the night. After the crowds dispersed, John led Jesse to his trailer, where they talked and ate from evening onward. It was now almost midnight.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Jesse said, cleaning his teeth with toothpick. “It just takes a little getting used to. But it’s really not that different from cricket.”

“Exactly,” John said. “And the honey dip actually makes it better. So? Where are you headed after this?”

“Well,” Jesse said, looking around. “I have my heart set on taking a few weeks, maybe a month or so, praying and fasting. It’s so...quiet and peaceful out here in the wilderness.”

“It is,” John said, nodding. “And then? After you seek God’s will?”

“It’s not His will I’m seeking—I’ve already done that,” Jesse answered. “That’s why I wanted you to baptize me—to inaugurate my mission. What I’m seeking is strength—for the long road ahead. I know there will be opposition. Not many will understand what I am doing.”

“Well, then,” John said. “I’ll be praying with you, rest assured. And while you’re here, you can stay with me.”

“Actually, I much prefer to go further out there,” Jesse said. “Maybe up in the mountains.”

John nodded.

“God be with you, then.”

“Thank you,” Jesse said.

“When are you leaving?”

“Early tomorrow morning.”

 

The cold morning air of the desert chilled Jesse to the bone, making him shiver. He rubbed his arms vigorously for warmth as he stepped out of John’s little trailer. But that cold wouldn’t last long. When the sun rose, Bayview and its surrounding areas will be a scorching hot place to be. He had to have some water supply. Sure, he was fasting, and a person could last forty days without food, but not without water. He checked his bag for enough water supplies. He had ten bottles. That will have to do. He would have to use it sparingly. After having checked if he had everything—water and clothing, he began his trek across the Bayview wilderness. His journey had begun. His mission had begun. There was no turning back now. And so he needed to be alone. To pray. To pray for strength. For grace.

 

___

 

It had been forty days. Jesse’s fast was drawing to a close. This was his last day on the mountain. His last day to ask for strength for the long road ahead. A road of success and opposition. A road of frustration. Even his followers might not understand his teachings. He knew it would take them a long time to get it. A long road of disbelief. He knew many would not believe. Only a few chosen would. A long road of suffering. He knew there would be many attempts on his life—and one final attempt in Central City. Central City... His final destination. The end goal of his mission.

Jesse looked up from prayer. Were his senses deceiving him? Was it real? He swore he could smell freshly-baked bread and donuts. Strudels... Crepes... It reminded him of the store that he, James, and their friends would go to after school. They would ride their bikes to the store, bags on their backs, and buy donuts. And then they would ride home. He and James would often ride their bikes to the store during break, on the days they had to work in the shop with Joss. He heard his stomach growling at the memory. He was famished. He had nothing but water and cactus juice for forty days. He had to have something. No. No, he would resist the temptation. There was nothing on earth that could ever dissuade him from his fast.

Suddenly, he heard him. Silas. The baker who owned the store he was reminiscing about just a minute ago.

“Jesse?” Silas said. “Jesse Carpenter?”

There was laughter from Silas’s lips. But not from Jesse’s. He knew he was being deceived. This was a trick. This wasn’t Silas. Old Silas had died years ago. This was someone else. An agent from the pits of Hell itself, trying to thwart his mission.

“Jesse! My boy!” Silas’s impersonator said. “It’s so good to see you! Who would’ve thought I’d see you here? How’s your brother James? Remember your childhood friend Benjamin? The kid who lived across from you? I remember, you boys would stop by the shop after school—without fail. Every day. Well, not every day. Of course, Saturday was out of the question.”

Jesse did not speak. This was not Silas.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” the demon said, smiling. “Go ahead. Why don’t you turn these stones into hot, tasty, fresh-baked bread? Hm? You know you want to.”

“It is written,” Jesse said, standing his ground, “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God!”

A scream emanated from the Demon-King’s wide open mouth. Silas’s appearance changed. He now had black eyes and ashen skin, like that of a rotting corpse. Strong winds howled with great fury, transporting Jesse to the very top of the Temple in Central City. As always, the Temple was filled with people. The people of Carmel took their religion very seriously. They’d be in the Temple every day of their lives if they could.

Jesse sensed his enemy. He was there. With him. Baiting him. Waiting for him to slip up and turn his back on his mission, take the easy way out.

“Boy, look at all those people,” the demon in the form of Silas said. “You could impress them with a feat of power, you know? Just imagine... They’d all fall down and worship you like a god if they saw you falling down, unhurt.”

“Shut up,” Jesse said through gritted teeth.

“Besides,” his enemy continued, as though he hadn’t heard him, “Doesn’t it say in the Sacred Texts that He will send His angels to keep you safe? You won’t even cut your feet on a single stone!”

Jesse whirled around to face his adversary.

“It is also written: you shall not put the Lord your God to the test!”

For a moment, all was still. Was it over? Jesse knew it wasn’t. Suddenly, he found himself at the top of a very high mountain, looking down on all of Central City. Central City in all its magnificent glory. The glorious Temple shining in the sun, its expensive high rises, buildings of the corporate world... Government buildings... The Royal Palace adjacent to the Temple... Its lush, green parks... Its many restaurants and hotels... Then more buildings rose. Cities began growing like trees out of the ground, surrounding all of Central City. These were the greatest cities the world has ever known. Capitals, seats of power... Even Anthropos, Argesh’s major city, was there.

“All this I can give you,” Silas said, maniacal glee ever-present in the gleam of his eyes and lips. “All you have to do is... Oh, I dunno... Say, bow down and worship me?”

He cackled with demoniacal laughter. It was as if all the demons and devils of Hell joined him in a chorus of evil mirth.

“Enough! Away from me, Satan!” Jesse shouted. “It is written: Worship the Lord your God! Only Him shall you serve!”

An ear-piercing shriek followed, and then nothing. Silence. Jesse was alone once more on the mountains of the Bayview area. He heaved a sigh of relief then sank to the ground, weak from hunger and the battle he had just faced. A man dressed all in white—shirt, tie, vest, slacks—caught him, preventing him from falling. He held him up and supported him. Just then, two more men wearing the same attire made their way toward him. Then all three helped him down the mountain.

 

___

 

Bath, a suburb of Bayview...

 

“Look,” John pointed out to his students. “There he is! The Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!”

Jonny Fishman and his friend Andrew Reed looked up to see Jesse walking in the other direction.

“I know him,” Jonny said, smiling. “He’s a cousin of mine! And a cousin of yours too, right, John?”

John nodded.

“Our cousin... Carmel’s future king,” Jonny whispered in awe.

“Go,” John said. “Follow him. I’ve taught you everything I could. It’s time for him to teach you.”

Jonny looked at Andy and both smiled. Andy was nodding.

“Last one to reach him is a rotten egg,” Andy teased.

“You wish,” Jonny said, laughing. “You forget I was Bath High School’s track star.”

And with that, the two young men took off at top speed, trying to catch up with Jesse. Jonny was running like the wind.

“Jesse!” he called, forgetting himself. Then he said, “Teacher!”

“Sir!” Andrew called out.

Jesse turned, smiling.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“We, uh... Um...” Andrew stammered, unsure of what to say.

“We... We’d like to see where you’re staying,” Jonny said, finishing what his friend intended to say.

“Come with me,” Jesse said with a warm, inviting smile.

 

___

 

The cries of the seagulls overhead and the sound of the waves slapping against the fishing boat’s hull never failed to make Simon smile. It gave him a sense of purpose. This was what he was born to do. This was what he lived for. This was why he woke up every morning and stayed up most nights. As long as there was fish in the sea, he said to himself, there would always be breath in him. He had spent the whole week out in the open, fishing. Sometimes he’d spend a night or two, he and his buddies. Now he was back on shore, cleaning the large nets they used to haul in their catch. Simon stopped for awhile and closed his eyes, inhaling the salt air. It never ceased to amaze him. He lived near a lake, and yet it was salty—like the sea. He was always filled with wonder at the beauty that was Lake Kensington. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by someone calling his name.

“Simon! Simon!” the familiar voice said. It was getting louder. Nearer. “Simon! We’ve found him!”

Simon opened his eyes to see his 23-year-old younger brother Andrew running excitedly up the gangway. He was so excited, in fact, that he almost tripped.

“Whoa! Easy there, horsey!” Simon teased. “Breathe. Relax.”

Andrew tried to catch his breath, panting for a long time. He was gulping in large amounts of air like a man who had just come up out of the water—someone who’d been drowning. He coughed and wheezed then coughed some more. Simon laughed, seeing his brother in such an agitated state. His excitement was always comical.

“Simon,” Andrew said, when he had finally calmed down. “Simon... We’ve found him.”

“Him?” Simon asked. “Him who?”

“The Messiah. Carmel’s future king,” Andrew said, still excited, his words running together. He was talking so fast his brother almost couldn’t understand him. “He’s here! Carmel’s deliverer has come, Simon.”

“You shouldn’t make stories up like that, you know?” Simon said. “You almost got my hopes up for a second there.”

“Simon, believe me!” Andrew insisted.

“Uh-huh,” Simon said, still not biting. “Is this like the time you said you saw a tiny family living under the floorboards?”

“Oh, come on!” Andrew protested. “I was four then! Besides, this is no lie, Simon, believe me, we have seen Carmel’s king!”

“We? Who’s we?” Simon asked.

“Jonny and I,” Andrew answered. “Now, come on. Let’s. Go.”

“Alright, alright,” Simon said. “I’m coming!”

The younger man led the elder through streets and alleys, running like he’d never ran before. Simon had to tell him to slow down as he was getting winded and couldn’t catch up. Andrew agreed, slowing down to a much more bearable pace for his older brother. They finally reached the warehouse where they prepared the fish for transporting to the market. Jesse was sitting on a crate, smiling. With him was Jonny, and Jonny’s twin brother Jimmy.

“He’s the man I’ve been telling you about, Simon,” Andrew said.

Jesse stood up and approached Simon.

“Simon, right?” Jesse said, one hand gripping the other man’s outstretched hand, the other on his shoulder. “You wouldn’t mind if I gave you a new name, would you?”

“N-no,” Simon said, stammering. “Not... Not at all.”

“Good,” Jesse said. “From now on, you will be Pietro. Simon doesn’t really suit you that well.”

“Alrighty, then,” Simon said, nodding. “Pietro it is.”

“Did you know he’s related to the Fishman Boys?” Andrew said.

“Really?” Pietro said. “How?”

“My mother and their mother are sisters,” Jesse explained.

“So you’re first cousins,” Pietro said.

“That’s right.”

“He’s related to John Barnaby, too,” Andrew put in.

“Really!” Pietro said in admiration. John Barnaby was a hero to them. The greatest teacher Carmel has ever known. A king who was related to a powerful preacher? A great teacher? That’s some king indeed!

 

The following day, as Jesse was coming out of the Reed brothers’ apartment, he found a young man in conversation with his two cousins. Their discussion was animated. Noticing Jesse approaching the group, Jonny introduced Philip.

“Philip, this is Jesse,” Jonny said. “Jesse, Philip.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Philip said, bowing his head slightly. “Your Majesty.”

Jesse chuckled.

“Come with me, Philip,” Jesse said. “Follow me.”

“I’m in,” was Philip’s ready answer.

“Wonderful,” Jesse said.

“Where are we going?” Jimmy asked.

“We’re going to Carlton,” Jesse said.

“Isn’t that a city in Kensington?” Jonny asked.

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “So we’re leaving Bayview.”

Kensington was a large area that included a part of Bath (a large part of Bath belonged to Bayview), the city of Carlton, and Jesse’s hometown, New Hope.

“We’ll get packing,” Jimmy said. “We’re coming with you.”

“I’ll tell Sim—Pietro and Andy,” Jonny said.

“Uh, before we go,” Philip said. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Sure,” Jesse said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Great,” Philip said, then disappeared from view as fast as a gazelle bounding on the rocks of the mountains.

With gazelle-like grace and speed, Philip ran through the streets of Bath, looking for a friend of his. He found him under a mulberry tree, reading from sacred texts. Reading and praying. Nathan Bell was a very religious kid. But he was true—to himself and to others. He wasn’t like the rest, who showed outward manifestations and piety and religious zeal, but behind closed doors, it was a different story. He was very studious, too.

“Well, well, well,” Nathan said, looking up. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hello to you, too,” Philip replied. “How’s your day going so far?”

“So far, it’s been great,” Nathan said.

“Let me tell you—it’s going to be even greater, legendary even,” Philip said.

“And why is that?” Nathan said. “Pray tell.”

“We’ve found the man who will lead us into victory and drive out the Argessi,” his friend said, almost squealing like a schoolgirl at a rock concert.

“You found another rebel leader,” Nathan said, unimpressed. “So what? Dozens have been around.”

“But this guy’s legit,” Philip said. “He’s the one our old prophets were talking about. Jesse. Jesse Carpenter—from New Hope!”

“New Hope!” Nathan spat out the word with contempt, disgust dripping from it. “Can anything good come from a ghetto like that?”

“Please! Nate!” Philip begged. “You’ve got to see this guy!”

“Alright,” Nathan said, heaving a sigh. “I’ll see him.”

 

They were all gathered outside. Pietro, Andy, Jimmy, Jonny, Jesse... They were waiting for Philip and his friend. Just then, Jesse looked up to see the two approaching.

“Look at that,” Jesse said, pointing toward the approaching Nathan. “A true Carmelite—with good intentions! Not a lying bone in his body.”

“And how, exactly, do you know about me?” Nathan asked. He was still unimpressed with the rugged 30-year-old cabinetmaker.

“I saw you under the mulberry tree before Philip here called you,” Jesse said, a hint of humor in his voice.

Nathan fell to the ground where he was, and kissed it.

“You are the King of Carmel!”

“Just because I told you I saw you under the mulberry tree, you believe?” Jesse said. “You will see greater things than this. You will see the heavens open and God’s messengers ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

Silence filled the small group of young men. The silence was finally broken by Philip.

“So, where are we going?” he asked.

“To my brother’s wedding,” Jesse said. “In Carlton City.”

“Who’s getting married?” Jimmy asked.
“It’s James,” Jesse said. “Let’s go. We want to avoid traffic.”

“Jimbo’s getting married!” Jonny said. “That’s awesome!”

“It’s sweet,” Jimmy said, nodding. “And exciting.”

With that, they piled into Pietro’s van, all seven of them, with Pietro and Jesse in the front. Pietro drove silently. Though there was much talking in the back, he never once joined in. He was deep in thought. Hell, he was angry. They had to gather an army—and this man wastes his time by attending a wedding?

4: Zeal & Midnight Conversations

Notes sailed through the air as musicians played into the night. It was the custom in Carmel to hold a seven-day festival in honor of the newlyweds. Jesse and his company arrived on the last night.

“So this is James’s place?” Jimmy asked.

“His father-in-law’s, actually,” Jesse said. “His parents-in-law wanted the wedding to be held here in Carlton. He tells me he’ll be taking his wife down to New Hope after the festivities.”

“Nice place,” Pietro said, eyeing the place, nodding his head. He was still fuming. What were they doing here? They had a nation to save, a kingdom to reestablish, enemies to kill or drive out...

“Jimmy! John!” a voice called, cutting the little group’s conversation. “It’s so good to see you, boys!”

“Aunt Marian!” Jonny said. “How are you?”

“I’m doing quite well, thank you,” Marian said. “Although I am starting to feel the claws of rheumatism closing in on me. Come in, come in!”

“Mother,” Jesse greeted, kissing Marian’s cheek.

“I’m so glad you and your students could make it,” Marian said, kissing her son’s cheek. “I reserved a table for seven, just for you, like you asked.

 

Laughter filled the table as the evening dragged on, with Jesse recounting embarrassing stories of James in their childhood. Jonny piped in and told an embarrassing story of his brother Jimmy, which, in turn, caused Jimmy to tell an embarrassing story about his brother.

And then Jesse recounted another embarrassing story, this time, of their cousin John. Who knew that there were embarrassingly funny stories about the great John Barnaby?

“Did you know,” Pietro said, “When Andy was four years old, he swore he saw a tiny family living under the floorboards of our house!”

“Did he say what they used for furniture?” Jimmy said, laughing, leaving him breathless.

“Oh, not that again!” Andrew said, turning red. “You just won’t let me live it down, will you?”

“No,” Pietro said, laughing his heart out as the others laughed with him. “You’ll never hear the end of it! He said they used things we used, like thimbles and matchboxes!”

Every face around the little table was red. Jesse and the others’ from laughter, Andrew’s from sheer embarrassment. Poor Nathan could not breathe. He was turning purple.

“Stop!” he begged, “Henough.”

“Alright,” Philip said, trying to save his breathless friend. “What do you say we all dance? Musicians are playing.”

The laughter stopped abruptly. Everyone—everyone in the hall, that is—was looking at Pietro. He had risen from his seat, fists slamming down on the table. All was still.

“I will only dance,” he said slowly, “when we dance in victory after having killed our Argessi enemies!”

There were gasps from people around the room. A servant dropped a tray he had been carrying.

“Simon, please,” Andy said, calming him down. “This is a wedding, for goodness’s sakes!”

Pietro sat back down with a heavy sigh, and the festivities resumed as though nothing had happened. A little later, Marian approached Jesse’s table.

“They ran out of wine,” Marian said, leaning closely, whispering in Jesse’s ear.

“Woman,” he answered. “Why is this important to you or me? It’s not yet time to reveal myself.”

Marian shrugged and called the servants.

“Follow his every instruction,” she said, nodding.

“I wonder what he’s going to do,” Nathan whispered to Philip.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “I guess we’ll just have to watch. And see.”

Jesse got up from the table and went with the servants to the cellar. Following suit, the others left their seats and went with him. Jesse saw six empty barrels and a thought came to him.

“Fill those barrels with water,” he instructed.

“We need wine, not water,” one servant whispered to another.

“Just do as he says,” the irate head-servant said.

The servants obeyed, filling the barrels almost to the brim.

“Now, take some of it and give it to the Master of Ceremony.”

Once again, the servants did as they were told. They poured wine into the glass of the Master of Ceremony.

The man Benjamin took a sip and gave his nod of approval. Then, he stood up and congratulated James.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “You are one brilliant man, James! Usually people give their best wine first, and then, when everybody’s too drunk to notice, they bring out the poor, good-for-nothing wine.”

Laughter burst from the guests.

“But you,” James’s friend continued. “You saved the best for last.”

The guests clapped in praise of the groom. No one except the servants, Marian, Jesse, and Jesse’s students knew where the wine had come from.

“Amazing,” Nathan said, awed. “All that from six barrels of water...”

“A king who could provide for his people,” Andy said. “Now, that’s some king indeed.”

“He really is the King of Carmel,” Pietro whispered, his voice filled with reverence for the man, his faith in him strengthened.

 

___

 

After a few days spent in New Hope, Jesse and company set out for Central City. Independence Week was drawing closer. Jesse wanted to be there for the festival. There was a lot of talking and laughing along the way. Philip had been too preoccupied with dancing that he didn’t see the ditch he fell into. Laughter exploded from the little group. And even though upset at first, Philip, too, began to laugh. As soon as they entered the Temple courtyard, however, Jesse’s demeanor changed. He strode over to a section of the worship center-turned-marketplace where there were discarded ropes. He sat on the temple steps and began braiding the cords into a whip. He tested its strength first, beating the ground with it. Pietro took notice and whispered to Nathan, who looked concerned. What was their master going to do?

“Get these out of here!” Jesse suddenly shouted, brushing piles of money off the tables with his whip. “How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market?”

He kicked a jar of coins here, broke a cage full of pigeons there... He turned tables over with a mighty push of his hand, kicked some stools...

“It is written!” he shouted. “My house shall be a house of prayer for all people, but you have made it a lair of thieves!”

“Jimmy,” Jonny whispered to his brother. “Do you remember our lessons?”

Jimmy nodded.

“Zeal for Your house,” he said.

“Will consume me,” Jonny finished.

This was another sign—prophecy fulfilled. Jesse was Carmel’s true King. And they were witnessing it.

People were cheering Jesse on. It had been a dishonest show in recent years—traders and moneychangers cheating people, it was despicable, some people thought. They felt like they were being robbed. Others who supported the traders and moneychangers shouted in anger, raising their fists and voices against him. This whole ruckus—from Jesse first whipping the moneychangers to the people shouting—caught the authorities’ attention.

Priests and Temple Police hurried down the steps leading to the courtyard where Jesse was turning tables over, freeing doves and pigeons...

“Who gave you the authority to do this?” Joseph Callum, the ruling High Priest of Carmel asked.

“Speak!” his father-in-law shouted.

“Destroy this temple,” Jesse said, his voice shaking with anger, “and I will rebuild it in three days.”

Laughter rang through the crowd. Even those who were cheering him on and happy to see the traders driven out earlier were laughing.

“It has taken forty-six years to build this temple!” a priest said. “It’s not even finished yet! And you claim you can rebuild it in three days?”

But that was not what Jesse had meant. He had meant his own body; he was pointing to his own death. Even Pietro and the others didn’t understand what he meant.

“Let’s go,” the people said. “That guy’s a few sheep short of a flock.”

After Jesse and his followers had left, the priests convened for a meeting.

“Who is this man?” Reverend Callum demanded.

“I seem to remember him, Your Grace,” a man by the name of Reverend Nicholas Dempsey said, raising his hand.

“Yes, Brother Nicholas?” Callum asked.

“His name is Jesse. I remember him from when he was a boy,” Dempsey said. “I remember him talking with me and a few other colleagues. He is Jesse Carpenter. He’s the cousin of Elizabeth Barnaby, our late Brother Zachary’s wife.”

“Where is he from?”

“He comes from New Hope.”

“No wonder the man is nuts,” a priest said, eliciting laughs from members of the High Council. All but one laughed. Reverend Dempsey.

“Enough!” Callum said, cutting the laughter short. “Something must be done about this man—or we suffer the consequences. Argesh will crush us to pieces!”

A majority of the council gave their assent and Dempsey had no choice but to give his as well. Secretly, however, he admired the man. He had seen him drive out the moneychangers. Yes, they had been an asset to the temple, but it had been too much. The trading system was growing corrupt day by single day. Now, if only he could drive out the Argessi with the same zeal, he may be able to save Carmel yet. And there was something about him—something he couldn’t place. The old priest, who was in his mid thirties back then, had marveled at the 12-year-old Jesse’s wisdom.

“Your thoughts, Brother Nicholas?” a Reverend Ames said.

Dempsey snapped out of his reverie.

“I say we watch the man carefully first,” he advised. “Track his every move, keep a close eye on him. It’s too early to tell what he’ll do.”

“An excellent suggestion, Brother Nicholas! We watch him. Trap him,” Callum said. “This council is dismissed. Meeting adjourned, gentlemen.”

 

___

 

Jesse’s star was rising. The young teacher from New Hope was gaining popularity. In addition to teaching his students and the people of Carmel, he was also healing. Every sick and infirm was brought to him. Victims of demon possession, paraplegics and quadriplegics, hemiplegics, the blind, the deaf, the dumb... Even lepers, shunned by society, came to him to be healed.

The people of Carmel were singing his praise everywhere he went, chanting his name, following his every move. They all came to see him, hear him teach, from all over the country. And every day, every week, Nicholas Dempsey’s admiration for Jesse grew. But he had a problem. He was a member of the Religious High Council of Carmel. And most of his colleagues hated the man’s guts. Hated his teaching. Hated how he had turned the people’s hearts away from them and toward him. Hated the fact that he had been calling them out. They were of the opinion that he was poisoning the people’s minds.

He paced up and down in the living room of his apartment, glass of whiskey in hand, racking his brain for a solution. What to do? He admired the man, was in awe of him—loved him even. But his position and status in the community prevented him from seeing Jesse. What to do?

Suddenly, a thought struck him.

“Why don’t I see him now?” he said aloud to himself, “I can see him while it’s dark! No one will ever know.”

He grabbed his keys from the desk in his study and left in haste. But where to find Jesse? He didn’t know where he lived. He didn’t even know if he had a place to live.

“I guess I’ll just have to ask around,” he said it himself.

Just as he said he would, the old teacher went around the city, stopping every now and then to ask if anybody knew where Jesse was staying.

He was directed to Olive Press Heights, one of the gated communities for the rich in Central City. Jesse and company were staying at the house of a man named Joseph Barnes and his sister Mary, and Mary’s son John Marcus. He asked for the address.

“Marcus residence,” Nicholas said, showing his identification to the guard at the gate and the gate swung open to admit him. He followed the directions given to him until he found the house. He killed the engine and sat in silence for five minutes, unsure what to do. Then he prayed a silent prayer, unbuckled himself, and got down. Slowly, he walked up to the door of the house and rang the bell. The door opened, revealing an old, wrinkled butler within.

“May I help you?” the wizened man asked.

“Y-yes, I’m looking for a man who’s staying here,” Nicholas Dempsey said. “He’s name is Jesse.”

“One moment,” the butler said.

 

“Alright,” Jesse said, closing the lesson he was teaching Pietro and the others that night. “Get yourselves to bed. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Nate said.

“Good night, Jesse,” Jonny said.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite,” Andy said, eliciting a laugh from the Master-Teacher and the others.

“Remember,” Jesse said. “Crack of dawn.”

“Yes, sir,” Pietro said, saluted, and marched off to the room provided for him by their hosts.

“Ah, Jack!” Jesse said, turning to face the butler. “What is it?”

“There’s a man waiting for you in the sitting room, sir,” the old man said.

“I’ll be right there,” Jesse said, getting up. “Tell him I will see him.”

“Very good, sir,” the butler said, bowing. Then he exited.

After the butler had left, Jesse knelt down in prayer, asking for strength and guidance. He knew this was something important. Something told him it was. After prayer, he got up, left his room, and descended the stairs to the first floor, where his visitor was.

“Reverend,” Nicholas Dempsey said, bowing as Jesse entered.

“Master Dempsey,” Jesse said acknowledging his visitor.

“Can... Can we talk?” Nicholas Dempsey said, pacing nervously.

“Certainly,” Jesse said. “Why don’t we take a walk outside in the garden? It’s a nice night.”

“After you,” Dempsey said, gesturing with his hand.

Jesse led the way to the living room where the French doors were waiting for them. This he opened and ushered the old teacher out. It was, indeed, a nice night. A cool wind was blowing, a great relief from the stifling hot temperature of the day.

“What is it you want to talk about, Reverend?” Jesse said to Nicholas.

“We know—well, a minority of my colleagues and I—we know that you’re a teacher sent by God,” Nicholas said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to do the things you’ve been doing.”

“Look,” Jesse said, placing his hands inside his pockets, “Listen to what I’m about to tell you—because this is true. You need to be reborn. You won’t be able to see the Kingdom unless you were.”

“I’m sorry,” Reverend Dempsey said, apologizing. “You lost me at ‘reborn.’ How can an old man—such as myself—be born a second time? I can’t go back to my mother’s womb, can I?”

“Trust me,” Jesse said with a smile, “I know what I’m talking about here. Anyone who isn’t born of water and God’s Spirit is barred from the Kingdom. Physical life begets physical life. But spiritual life begets spiritual life—that’s how you’re reborn. It shouldn’t surprise you, really.”

There was silence for a minute. The only thing that could be heard was the chirping of crickets and the cooling breeze on a warm summer night such as this. Then Jessie spoke again.

“Take the wind for example. It blows wherever it wants to blow. You feel it. You hear it. But you can’t see it or know where it’s going.”

Nicholas Dempsey was impressed. This man had profound knowledge. But he still had questions.

“How is...how is that even possible?”

“You’re one of the best religious scholars in Carmel, you’re a great professor, well-loved by your students, you came from a top notch school... And yet don’t get what I’m saying here? See, my students and I, we tell you what we have seen and heard. But you, the authorities, don’t accept an iota of what we’ve been telling you all along. I’ve taught about things of this world and you don’t believe. How will you believe if I tell you about spiritual matters? The only one who has gone into heaven is the one who came from it—the Son of Man.”

The Son of Man, Dempsey repeated in his mind. The Son of Man.

“The bronze snake was lifted up in the desert—that’s how it will be with the Son of Man. Everyone who believes in him will live forever,” Jesse continued. “God loved the world—that’s why He sent the Son of Man, His only Son. Whoever believes in Him is not lost. He will have eternal life!”

Jesse and Reverend Dempsey’s conversation carried on into the night and Jesse talk of how people who believed had life, but those who did not were condemned already because they did not believe. He talked about light and darkness and how people loved darkness more than the light.

Understanding slowly dawned on Nicholas Dempsey. He was close.