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scoffing this jacket elicited did nothing to dissuade him from wearing it. He was a different person in it: taller, more confident, more self-assured. He was a man.
"You look fine in that jacket, Son," his dad said, which normally would be the death knell of any outfit. "I'm proud of you for being so disciplined in your saving."
"How proud are you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I'm saving for something else, but I'll never make enough to get it. I need your help. Maybe more than half."
"What?"
"Flying lessons."
"Flying lessons?"
"There's no age limit for lessons, Dad. I can fly before I drive."
"You've got a lot of years before that," his dad said, but Ray could read admiration in the man's eyes.
"Learning to fly will make learning to drive easy," Ray said.
"Well, that's for sure. And if I helped you with this, you'd make a profession of it?"
"I'd like to."
"Now that's something to think about."
Marilena decided to leave an hour early and do some reading at the library before the meeting, but as she
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headed out the door she was met by three young people, iro boys and a girl who appeared to be college age.
icy had British accents, and while they spoke decent Ijlomanian, their leader, who introduced himself as lan, ced if she understood English.
"Putin," she said. "A little. I hear it better than I speak it."
"Do you have a few minutes?"
Marilena hesitated. She had never been good at dis|)&uading salespeople. She considered saying no and please come back later, but the truth was, she did have a few miinutes. "What are you selling?" she said.
"Jesus!" the other young man said, smiling broadly. *We'll be quick if we can just have a minute."
She invited them in.
"We have some literature for you," lan said, handing her a couple of leaflets. "We just want to tell you what we have found in Jesus Christ, what He means to us, and what He can mean to you. May we?"
Marilena nodded but felt dishonest. In truth she knew what they were going to say, and she felt her time was being robbed. But then this could be the answer to her prayer. Was this God's way of revealing Himself to her? jjShe couldn't imagine, but she would listen. These kids seemed earnest and enthusiastic enough, but mostly they were bold. Would she ever do what they were doing, even if she became a devotee? It seemed a most courajgeous and even potentially humiliating act. Sorin would never accede to sitting through it, nor would almost any {. Colleague she could think of.
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lan hurried through a memorized and polished presentation of what he called the "Romans road to salvation." It was named after the New Testament book of Romans, which Marilena had read years before. She had been impressed with the scholarship of the writer and the logical progression of his arguments, but at the time had not even considered that God existed, and assumed that if He did, He was the exclusive property of Christians.
Now she didn't know what to think. Interesting that he has chosen a text written to Romans.
lan read her Romans 3:23: "'For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.'"
"And you believe this?" Marilena said. The depravity of mankind had also seemed to her one of the most ludicrous notions of Christian theology.
All three young people nodded, but they seemed so sure of it that they appeared happy about it. "We've all sinned," lan said. "No one on earth is innocent."
"I might be," Marilena said. She was not boasting. If selfishness or a short temper were truly sinful, she was guilty. But did human nature make one a sinner? The label was offensive, and with most people she knew--even Sorin--their good outweighed their bad.
"If that were true," the young man said, "you'd be the first perfect person since Jesus."
"Do I win a prize?" she said, smiling, but she could tell they were not amused.
lan asked if he could read her a passage that "shows what sin in our lives looks like."
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Marilena looked at her watch. "I suppose." What was this maddening politeness she could not harness? What compelled her to keep from insulting these kids?
He read Romans 3:10-12:
"There is none righteous, no, not one;
There is none who understands;
There is none who seeks after God.
They have all turned aside;
They have together become unprofitable;
There is none who does good, no, not one."
Had she ever truly sought after God? Marilena's quest for knowledge had made her feel intellectually superior [to people of faith. Maybe that was sinful. On the other hand, maybe she was intellectually superior.
"I'll be just a minute," lan said. "Romans 6:23 says that 'the wages of sin is death.' That's not talking about ffust physical death, ma'am, but also spiritual, eternal I death, complete separation from God."
Marilena suppressed a smart remark, something about ^how that would be nothing new for her.
lan plunged on. "But there's good news in that same |verse. It says, 'but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ [Jesus our Lord.' And Romans 5:8 is the best news of ,,all: 'God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.' Did you know that?"
"I'm familiar with the basic tenets of the Christian sect, yes."
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"Jesus died for you, paid the penalty for your sins. And I assume you know about the Resurrection."
She nodded. She wished she could tell lan his minute was up.
"Romans 10:9 says 'that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.' Romans 8:1 says that if we do that 'there is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus.' We will never be condemned for our sins. Finally--and with this I'm through--the writer of this letter to the Christians in Rome makes this promise in chapter 8, verses 38 and 39: 'For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.'
"What do you think of that, ma'am?"
"Well... I... ah, that's beautiful. Beautiful writing and a cogent treatise. And you presented it well. I'm not sure I believe it, but--"
"Here we are in Romania," the young man said, and she could hear the closing-of-the-sale tone in his voice. "Wouldn't you like to follow the Romans road to salvation? Saying this simple prayer will not save you; only faith in Jesus Christ will do that. But this is a way you can tell God you realize where you stand and what you need from Him: 'God, I know that I'm a sinner and deserve punishment. But I believe Jesus Christ took that punishment and that through faith in Him I can be
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forgiven. I trust in You for salvation. Thank You and amen!'"
The three looked at her expectantly. Marilena wondered what they would think or do or say if she told them she believed God had tried to tell her who He was and also told her to flee the devil. And what if they knew she had prayed to God's archenemy?
"Would you like to receive Christ, ma'am?" lan said.
"No, I wouldn't. Not tonight."
"You want to think about it?" ; "At least."
"That's understandable, but let me caution you. I don't mean to pressure you or scare you, but none of us ever really knows how much time we have. You look like a fairly healthy person, but you don't know when you might be run over by a car, do you?"
"Well, I certainly hope not tonight."
"We hope not either," the young woman said. "We will pray for you that you will do the right thing."
To their credit, the kids did not pressure Marilena, and as soon as they were gone she felt both relief and turmoil. She had long wondered if this idea of being born in sin and s
aved by the death of Jesus was really as simple as it seemed. These kids sure thought so.
The question wasn't whether God existed. Marilena believed He did now more than ever. Had she been born [, in sin? And if so, was it her fault? Was she a sinner? God seemed jealous, vengeful. He had declared to her who He was and told her to flee the devil. And yet the one God considered His enemy was offering her a child.
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Marilena decided not to jump too quickly to either side. At the meeting, she would consider the pitch of the first god she had ever prayed to.
Had Marilena been a dog, she would have growled and snarled upon meeting Reiche Planchette. Viviana introduced him to the group with such eagerness that Marilena wished she could display some enthusiasm. But she had to admit there was something pily about the man. He did not just practice maintaining eye contact; he also seemed to use it as a battering ram. She finally had to look away.
Mr. Planchette was not what she expected, yet in his presence she found it difficult to remember what that was. Had she assumed he would have cloven hooves, horns, and a pitchfork? Or that he would wear all black and have slicked-back hair?
In reality he was pleasant-enough looking with thinning light brown hair and a prominent nose. He smiled easily and looked anything but sinister. Some in the group greeted him like an old, trusted friend. They eagerly waited for him to take the floor, and once he had it, Marilena found him mesmerizing.
He was as direct as Viviana had predicted, referring to Lucifer as his leader and lord and the object of his love and worship as naturally as Marilena had heard Christian ministers on television refer to Christ and God. She had thought them delusional, taking the classic Scriptures literally, but until fourteen weeks ago, she had put even less stock in people who believed in the dark side.
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It seemed Planchette's goal was to dissuade anyone from maintaining misconceptions about the one he called "the opposite god."
He worked the room, pacing, smiling, speaking con- ersationally. The bottom line, he said, was that "you lay have tried praying to the God of the Bible. What has : ever gotten you? An answer here and there? A feeling? mostly haven't you felt judged, watched, shamed, your conscience attacked? My lord offers power and action-- measurable, tangible, and helpful."
Perhaps Planchette was a memory expert. Or maybe le had conspired with Ms. Ivinisova. Regardless, his performance at the end of the evening was nothing short of miraculous. As he closed his eyes and prayed, le mentioned every person in the room by name and ive them a personal word of prophecy. "Titus, your marriage will be repaired. "Atanasia, your lameness will be healed. "Dorina, your depression will lift." People moaned and cried out and sighed and wept. Marilena couldn't deny she was caught up in it, her ipulse skyrocketing as she waited her turn. She was also graying to the God of the Bible, challenging Him, bad- j^gering Him. "Here's Your chance," she said silently. 'Show Yourself. Do something. Compete."
All she sensed in her spirit was the echo of God's original message: "Resist the devil and he will flee from you." But I don't want to flee! I want what I was promised! "Resist the devil and he will flee from you." Promise me a child! Give me what I want and need.
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"Resist the devil and he will flee from you."
Marilena would not resist. How could a spirit who promised her a child be evil? She might regret it, she told herself, but God had an opportunity here to show Himself head-to-head against the one of whom He seemed so jealous. It was He who considered her a sinner in need of salvation.
The other side offered to fulfill her dream and longing, apparently with no strings attached. Well, there was the matter of allegiance. But might that not grow from sheer gratitude when she carried her own child, delivered him, held him?
"Marilena," Reiche Planchette said, "you shall receive the desire of your heart."
She needed no more convincing.
Viviana took Marilena and Mr. Planchette to the bistro where she and Marilena first chatted. Planchette insisted Marilena call him Reiche, which she could not bring herself to do. He also continued to stare so pervasively that, had it not been totally against her nature, she would have called him on it.
Marilena did not, however, sit and take it when Planchette attempted to sway her with an academic argument in which he was nowhere near as adept as she. She had asked about his view of the moral nature of Lucifer.
"The name," he said, assuming a professorial tone, "comes from the Latin lux and ferre, which is one reason
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ie is often referred to as the Morning Star. Lux meaning 'Maylight' and ferre meaning 'star.'"
"Pardon me, sir," Marilena said, "but you don't want presume to teach me linguistics. Lux indeed means flight,' but the closest you could get to star from ferre is Mne play on the words show or exhibit. The fact is that ie primary meaning of ferre is closer to 'iron hard,' and, Ifeferring to a person or being, 'someone without feeling, f'unyielding, even cruel.'"
That made Mr. Planchette sit back. "Excellent," he lid evenly. "Perhaps you are on to a side of our god it manifests itself when someone who has been offered & gift in return for a modicum of gratitude would rather thumb her nose at it."
"Surely you're not suggesting that in my commitment i not give a false impression--" "I believe he knows your heart, madam." "I doubt that. But if he does, then he knows that I Ifnerely want to remain true to myself. Doesn't it follow f(hat if I faked some expression of loyalty--?"
*He knows when someone has been courting two suitors."
That stopped her. Was her life not her own? Could she never again do anything in secret?
Planchette let a smile play at the corners of his mouth. *I am not all-knowing," he said. "I go only by what is I'communicated to me."
'I am a scholar," Marilena said, trying not to sound } defensive. "I study. I compare. I research."
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"You play both ends against the middle, and you could live to regret that."
"Is your god, then, as jealous as he claims is his adversary?"
Planchette pressed his lips together, then finally broke his gaze and studied the ceiling. "Lucifer is merely just. The fact is, he is willing to concede what he wishes for from you, as long as he does not have to concede the child."
"Speak plainly."
The stare was back. "You are but a vessel, Mrs. Car- pathia. Whether you ever swear allegiance to the granter of your desires is worth a pittance compared to your agreement to allow your son to be raised in his service. Regardless of where you land in your flitting about from kingdom to kingdom, you agree that Nicolae--and you know why he should bear that name--"
"Because it means 'victory of the people' and was thus prophesied," Marilena said. "In truth, I like it. It has a majestic ring. Nicolae Carpathia."
"Withhold your allegiance at your peril, if you must, but agree that Nicolae will be raised in the service of our lord."
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NINE
ray steele's dad had a small den where he liked to retire at the end of the day. While Ray was doing homework and his mother was reading or watching her favorite programs, Mr. Steele would secrete himself in his cozy hideaway, where his golfing and fishing knickknacks covered the walls.
Ray's view of his father's sanctuary had been skewed by the nature of his own visits there. He was not allowed in the den when his father wasn't home, and when he was invited in, it never seemed to be for good news. Ray had never been punished there, but he had certainly endured his share of lectures and dressing-downs. Whenever he had lost significant privileges, been reprimanded, been grounded, it had happened as he sat across the desk from his imposing father.
And so it was that when his dad asked Ray at dinner
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to meet him in the den when his homework was done, Ray felt a rumbling in his gut. "What's wrong? What'd I do now?"
His father leveled his eyes at the boy. "If I wanted to discuss it at the table, I wouldn't invite you to the
den, would I?"
"It doesn't necessarily have to be bad news, Rayford," his mother said.
Yeah, like she had a clue.
Ray found it difficult to concentrate on his homework, wanting to get this over with, whatever it was. He racked his brain for the memory of any offense. Often he was surprised to discover what a teacher or a coach found offensive. He was a smart and talented kid, and he didn't intend to brag or put anyone else down. Sometimes he knew more than his teachers, but when he corrected them, he didn't mean to insult.
Had Ray done that lately? He couldn't recall. Had he said anything disparaging to friends that would have gotten back to their parents and thus to his parents? He shook his head. He considered marching down to the den to find out, but he was on pace for good grades this semester and didn't want to shortchange his homework --especially math and science.
An hour later, after putting the finishing touches on his math calculations, Ray found his dad reading a magazine at his desk. He waited as his dad held up a hand and finished reading, then set the periodical aside.
"Have a seat, Ray."
Great. It's going to be all formal.
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His dad leaned forward and folded his hands. "Ray, i I gotta tell ya, I've seen a lot of progress in you the last several months."
"You have?"
"Absolutely. Proud of you. And I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'll make a deal with you. You keep working hard at your studies and keep getting good grades--"
"Good? Almost straight A's, Dad."
"Well, I'd say that's good. And when you're thirteen --"
"That's a lot of years away, Dad."
"I know. Now hear me out. When you're thirteen I'll give you a part-time job at the shop."