THIRTEEN
A stranger in need is more beneficial than a friend with help.
Julius Mann, Bible Notes, vol. 24, ch. 11
Wuting and Jian were full of joy when they saw Roy’s guest room. He had told them he would sleep in the lounge and one could take his room, but they both insisted on staying in the guest room. Wuting told him about his large extended family that regularly slept in the same room.
They profusely apologised to him when they said they would both prefer to sleep on the floor. The bed used for guests was better than Roy’s own, even though it had been a long time since Roy had hosted a guest. The last and most notable was a church official, a relation of one of the Taylor Twelve, who had visited from Chichester a few years back, and he only stayed one night.
When Roy heard from Wuting that they preferred the floor he did not show his disappointment. He was beginning to fear them. He did not want them to see any emotion from him. More and more he hoped they could not really hear from God, as they claimed. He knew God could tell them all about the secrets of Roy Hoyle.
When they retired for the night, about nine in the evening, after an extensive time of prayer which left Roy overwhelmed, he went to their door to listen. Wuting said they would be leaving early the next day, to walk the streets of Carlow and pray for the city.
Roy pressed his ear against the guest room door and heard nothing. He wondered if they knew he was there, or if God had told them he was spying on them. Then he heard snoring, from both of them, which increased in volume until he was amazed that it did not wake them up. He laughed to himself, thinking they did indeed have jet-lag after all.
When Roy awoke the next morning he saw that the door to the guest room was wide open. He looked in and saw that blankets neatly folded, each with a pillow on top. He called for them as he looked through the house. He scratched his head as he tried to think if he heard them leaving when he dozed through the early morning. He remembered that Wuting said they would be going out early, but he did not imagine he meant well before dawn.
Roy spent the day searching the city’s business district for possible work involving one of his specialities, personal counselling. His qualifications were built around Kingdomite theology, but he knew he could easily adapt to a secular role. His only success was a couple of “maybes”. With over 87,000 missing, he had assumed there would be no shortage of work. On his way home he noticed signs on windows of various shops and companies, but they wanted common labourers. He passed them by. He was not that desperate; not yet. He would more readily consider requesting a transfer to a Kingdomite church on the mainland or some other country, before he took on something so low. But he would still keep it in mind, if a transfer were denied.
He arrived home at five in the afternoon, and the Two were still not home. He wondered if their mission had ended, or even if they had been figments of his imagination. The only signs they had been there were the neatly folded blankets in the guest room. They had brought nothing with them and, after Roy checked to see if anything was missing, had taken nothing with them. Even his extensive food supply was untouched.
He prepared his own meal and then idly paged through the rapture book. He still did not know what to make of it; whether to believe it or toss it aside. He thought it would be best to keep his options open. Perhaps he could ask his two guests. From what he had seen and heard from them, they knew the Bible thoroughly, and were sure to have some opinion about the recent events. He wondered if they might want to read one of Mann’s books.
One part of the rapture book amused him, and if there was anything he needed, it was a good laugh. Based on Revelation chapter seven, it talked of 144,000 super-evangelists going out into the world after the rapture, to make converts, and the world shaking under their every footstep. They would stun the world, the book said, displaying the Gospel of Jesus Christ like it had never been shown before, and reap a harvest of souls unprecedented in the history of Christianity.
Roy abruptly stopped reading and shut the book. He then told himself that the book was nothing but unscholarly piffle designed for those who had no ecclesiastical training. Yes, of course it is.
The Two returned after nine o’clock at night. They both looked drained and exhausted. Their steps were laboured and they both nearly fell when they went to sit on the couch.
“Wuting, Jian, where have you been?” Roy asked, concerned for them. “You didn’t get lost, did you? I can get you a map of the city, if you wish?”
“There is no need. We go where the Spirit directs,” said Wuting, gasping as he spoke.
“Let me get you a drink.”
“No drink. We are fasting.”
“Just some water.”
“No.”
“But you’ve got to have something.”
“We obey God, not you.”
Roy took no offence from Wuting. Although his words were sharp, his presence seemed comforting for Roy; even peaceful.
“Where did you go?” he asked after giving them a few minutes to rest.
“We walked the streets. We saw the city. We saw everything.”
“You don’t mean you were walking all day?”
“We will do the same tomorrow. We will go to bed now. We will rise early. The Spirit will give us the necessary strength, and we will obey.”
“You’re sure you don’t need any food? I know fasting is good for the soul, but you must something to keep your bodies strong, if you are going to do such work?”
“Don’t worry over us, Roy. If he needs, God will send us his angels to minister and strengthen us for the work.”
“Angels?” Roy asked, bemused at the thought of angels in his house. As if they really would. He did not want to offend Wuting, so he decided it was best not to pursue the subject.
“What streets did you walk?”
“The streets of the city, including your business and industrial sectors. Tomorrow we will do the northern suburbs.”
“You didn’t walk down every street in town?”
Wuting gave no answer and Roy felt bad for saying it. “But why?” he pressed them.
“We pray over the harvest field. Your city is heathen, and bad. It needs much prayer. Jian here, a prayer warrior, and very good. He is better than me; stronger in the faith, and in the Lord. He teaches me, so one day I will be as strong and bold at prayer as him.’
“Did you say ‘heathen’? Are you sure you’ve got the right word, Wuting?”
“Heathen means one who disbelieves and ignores and is ignorant of the one true God, does it not?”
“Well, yes it does.”
“Heathen. Right word.”
“We have lots of churches here. You must have seen them?”
“We see many false churches, and that is all. They have another gospel, another Jesus, another spirit. They are not of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, therefore they are heathen. We will go now.”
They stood up with difficulty. Roy went to help them, but he really wanted to prevent them leaving the lounge.
“Wait, you can’t go yet. I have a lot of questions.”
“We must sleep, Roy. We must regain strength. We have much work to do. Your city is worse than we thought. It needs much prayer.”
He followed them down the hall to their bedroom, and told himself to make the most of what was surely the last time he would be seeing them that night.
“Look, I know you two are from God. I accept it, all right? I know you’ve been sent here to do something really spiritually significant, and all that. But give me a chance to find out more about you, would you please? We’ve had so many things happening here; many traumatic things. There’s all kinds of different ideas around, and most people are in a state of confusion. I want to know what you think about it. What’s it all about? Can you tell me?”
Wuting stopped and placed his right hand on Roy’s shoulder. “We know you need help. That is why we are here, Roy. We will help you with your church. On Sunday night.”
“Sund
ay night?”
“When you hold your church meeting.”
“It’ll be the morning. Sunday morning.”
“The morning, then. We will help you Sunday morning. Your church runs all day? Very good. I am most impressed. We thought the Christians of St Antipas were slack in the faith. You have proved us wrong. Very good. I am impressed. When I tell Jian, he will be impressed too.”
He give not give Roy the chance to answer before closing the bedroom door. Roy did not want to listen, but he found it hard not to linger. He heard them praying, and he knew it wasn’t in any sort of Chinese dialect. It was a different language; a spiritual language. A few minutes later he heard the light switch off, and after a further few minutes the Two were both snoring.
When the Sunday morning arrived, Roy was confident that his meeting would all go well. He found nothing in his church regulations, or even in Mann’s works, about adapting the traditional service to an ordinary lounge, but he knew it was not really acceptable. If it had not been for Wuting’s encouragement, and Jian’s prayerful presence, he wondered if he would have had the courage to break the church rules in such a way.
The first to arrive, and dressed in their Sunday best, were Shari-Anne and her two daughters. Ida Zarman was with them. She had the two girls amused and happy. She was their perfect grandmother, the one they never had. Roy introduced them to Wuting and Jian. He hoped the Two would not say anything strange, and the others not ask questions about them.
Roy waited until exactly ten until he started the meeting. Five minutes before, Lenny arrived on his spluttering old motor scooter, with his guitar strapped to his back. He appeared to be in awe of the Two as soon as he saw them.
Everyone sat quietly for Roy to start the service, as they would any normal Sunday. The Carters were yet to arrive, but people were normally late to regular services. It would not be a real church service without someone arriving late.
The disaster of the previous week’s service was not lost on Roy. The fire was bad enough, but the actual service had been poorly planned. With such a small congregation, and no real deacons to help him, Roy realised he should have run it like some simple mid-week Bible study. This time he decided to overlook most of the rituals. There was no altar in his lounge, and he could not see why it should be made holy with deacon’s prayer. As far as he could see, the prayers of Wuting and Jian were good enough to sanctify his living room, if not is entire house.
He did not bother to ask Lenny to act as deacon. The two Chinese men were the best deacons he had ever had. When he told them he would be considering them in such a role for the duration of the service, they said they would be honoured. Their approval made him feel more confident. He did not tell them about any of the rituals a Kingdomite deacon would have to go through. It all seemed needless without an actual church building.
He gave out hand-written hymns to each person except Jian. Wuting took one look at his and handed it back to Roy, saying he could not read it. The comment gained sympathy from the others. Roy hoped no one would then start asking questions about them. No one did.
When they stood and started singing the hymns, backed by Lenny on his guitar, Wuting and Jian followed as best they could. They tried their best, but were dreadful.
They all stopped when they heard a persistent knocking on the front door. Roy excused himself and went to answer it, thinking how such an interruption would never happen in a church, but was to be expected in his own house. He assumed it was the Carters. When he opened the door he saw a stranger. Then he realised who she was.
“So, this is where you live?” she asked with a quiet voice. That same voice. That same body. “You know, you do look like a Reverend. Although that’s easier, now I know you’re a Reverend. That’s true, isn’t it? You are a Reverend, not a business exec with hot prospects on the mainland?”
“What do you want?” he asked with an aggressive whisper, more through fear of the others hearing. They had started another song in his absence.
“Are you going to slam the door like you slammed my call the other day?” she asked with hurt evident in her voice. “I thought you would be at your little church, but there was nothing there, nothing left. You had quite an accident, if it was an accident. I came here instead. It looks to me like you’re having your own little church right here.
“What do you want? Money?”
“I want to see where you live, Reverend. I want to see your friends. Can you at least give me that?”
“Why?”
“Why? You’ve already forgotten what you’ve told me? All those promises. So you lied? Or course you lied. But I’m not going to let you get away with it. You own me more.”
“Look, you must understand, I’ve got this meeting on.”
“I can hear that.”
“You want to embarrass me? Is that it?”
“I want something else than the lies you gave me. You knew what sort of a girl I was; otherwise why tell lies?”
“What, then?”
She paused and searched his eyes, weighing her options. “Well, Reverend, how about you let me join this little church group of yours?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Roy said quickly, horrified at the thought.
“You can do that for me.”
“I certainly can’t.”
“Just introduce me as an old friend.”
“An old friend?”
“It’s the least you can do for me.”
He looked at her, studied her. She seemed genuine. “If I do let you come in, how can I trust you? How do I know you don’t want to tell everyone, and destroy the faith and respect they have in me?”
“You don’t. But I give you my promise I won’t say anything, if that means anything to you.”
She went to push her way inside. Roy relented and let her in. As she got nearer to him he recalled her being close to him. He momentarily felt thrilled at the thought, but then fought to regain his composure.
“By the way,” she said. “My name’s Suzanne. Just in case you’ve forgotten.”
Forgotten? he thought to himself. He had tried to purge the name from his mind.
He let her walk into the lounge. She took the seat reserved for Susie Carter. He briefly introduced her as a friend, which no one questioned. As they resumed the singing, Roy told himself to act like she was not really there. He tried his best to keep his eyes away from her, and he silently pleaded that she kept quiet.
Without warning, Wuting and Jian boldly sung out a Chinese song. They both had their eyes tightly shut and their arms raised above their heads. The others looked stunned at first, but then began to warm to it. The lyrics were short and sounded fairly easy to copy. They were soon all singing it, with no idea what it was. Lenny began to provide musical accompaniment and he was soon strumming loudly. Ida followed the Two by closing her eyes and raising her hands. Roy looked around his lounge in amazement as Shari and her girls did the same. Suzanne did her best to copy them, and Roy hoped the experience would make her regret being there. Or better yet; would make her leave.
The Wuting and Jian changed the song. At first the others just listened, but within minutes they were following along. After one hour Roy counted eighteen songs, and neither Wuting not Jian wanted to stop. Roy was getting worried. His sermon was sitting on the floor behind his chair, and it was perfectly timed for forty minutes. His schedule was getting shorter with every new song. He knew he had to stop the singing. Before another round of singing he tried to say something but he was drowned out by a loud burst of song from Jian. It was at the exact same time as Roy’s first word, so no one knew he was trying to say something. After the next song he decided to be more forthright.
“Let’s be seated, shall we? Thank you, Wuting and Jian. We can end the singing now.”
To his relief they responded to him with no hesitation. He quickly went through the usual time of prayer and blessing over the service, just like normal, just like a real church service. At least he had no
announcements to give, and no newsletter to refer to. It did not seen right or appropriate to welcome any new visitors, even though they did have one; for Roy she was not welcome.
Feeling back in control, Roy picked up his sermon and asked for them to turn to his lead-in text from the Bible. He spoke for forty minutes. They watched just like they would any Sunday morning. Wuting and Jian said nothing at all. Roy half-expected them to correct him at any time. It was a relief when he made it to the end without one word of interruption. His only complaint, which he did not voice, was that the Two did not laugh at his jokes. He reminded himself that Jian could not understand a word he said, but he would have expected Wuting to be a little more relaxed.
Suzanne also sat in silence. At first he expected her to make some sort of derisive remark, and act in a mocking way, but she just looked on as if she was interested. She even looked across to see a neighbour’s Bible when Roy read out a text.
They ended with a song, and this time Roy requested they stick to the one he gave them. After he prayed the service closed, the people left, including Suzanne. Roy went and stood at the lounge window as she walked down his drive to his car parked on the street. He could not believe that she could leave without making a scene.
So she was telling the truth. She just wanted to visit. I’ll probably never see her again. That was close!
Behind him, Wuting began what appeared to be a heated discussion with Jian.
“Where are they going?” Wuting asked Roy with a mixture of surprise and concern.
“Well, I guess they’re going home. Most people do that after the service. It’s lunch time, you see. That’s the way we do it here. I don’t know what you do in China.”
“They will come back?”
“Yes, of course.”
“They will come back after they have their lunch? Why do they not have lunch here?”
“No, they’ll be back next week.”
“Next week?”
“We could have a night service, I suppose. First things first. Let’s just get used to having a service here in my lounge.”
“Roy, we do not understand your customs, but we will try. We will learn.”
“Will you be going out on any walks today, Wuting?”
“No, we will stay here. We will pray here today. This day we hold holy to the Lord.”
“That sounds great.”
Roy welcomed the chance to ask them all the questions he had stored up over the last few days. The first would be what they thought happened to the missing people, and what he should do about it. He hoped they could tell him what God had told them about it.
Before he could ask them, he noticed someone lurking outside, near to the lounge window. He excused himself and went out to the front door, hoping it wasn’t Bernard from next door. This was one time he did not want to be disturbed. He opened the door and was surprised to see Lenny. Then he remembered he had not heard his scooter drive off. He had been too preoccupied with Suzanne’s peaceful departure.
Lenny was peering in the lounge window, through the tear in the net. Roy stood behind him and waited to hear an explanation, which he did not get.
“What are you doing, Lenny?”
“They’re here,” he said with a hushed voice and barely constrained excitement. “Right in your lounge. Did you hear those songs? The new songs, man!”
“What are you talking about?”
“It was in the book. I didn’t really believe it when I read it, but I do now. This is so incredible.”
“What’s so incredible?”
“The witnesses, man. The witnesses of the end-times. Two of them, right here!”
“What are you talking about? The witnesses?”
Roy recalled the book talking about Moses and Elijah returning to the world, based on Revelation chapter eleven. The notion was so outlandish that Roy could barely read it. Surely Lenny did not think Wuting and Jian were Moses and Elijah? Roy was horrified at the thought as he watched Lenny peering at them.
“Yeah, the 144,000, Reverend. You know the bit. They’re the super-evangelists of the end-times. Do you see now we’ve missed out on the rapture? The bit where they are seen on Mount Zion with the Lamb? They sing a new song, Reverend. A new song that only they can learn. Isn’t this great? I didn’t think two were going to show up here. Maybe two in St Antipas at some time, but not two in your house. And they’re here to help us! This might not be so bad after all.”
“Lenny, I think you’re taking this too seriously.”
“Seriously? How else am I meant to take it? The Beast makes war with the saints, Reverend. Don’t you know that?”
“Lenny, no one’s at war with us.”
“I saw you on TC the other day. You were sure in a war then, and lost.”
“That was different. I was ill-prepared. I could have done better. I had other things on my mind.”
“And what about the Carters? Where have they gone?”
“What do you mean?”
“They weren’t here.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“What would you do if you were them? They thought we missed out on the rapture. They were convinced we’re in the last days. If you thought that, would you miss this meeting? Of course you wouldn’t.”
Roy looked at him and felt uneasy. “They were delayed, that’s all.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ll tell you what, Lenny. I’ll drive you over to their house right now and we’ll see if they’re safe. What do you say? Will you admit you’re getting carried away by all this end-times stuff when you see them safe?”
“You go look for them. I want to spend more time with these guys.” He went inside, saying, “From what I can see, they haven’t finished the service yet.”
Roy looked in from where Lenny had been looking. Through the hole he could see Wuting and Jian lying face down in the middle of his lounge, praying intensely. Then Lenny came and knelt down beside them. Roy left them and went to his car, determined to find the Carters.
The Two might be super-spiritual, but let’s not get carried away.
The house of Peter and Susie Carter was always kept tidy; the lawns immaculate, the hedges perfectly trimmed, the flower-laden garden constantly weeded. The house itself was well painted and littered with fancy decorations, conveniences and distractions. Roy pushed the doorbell even though he had the choice of a large hand-crafted door knocker set in the centre of a fine oak door. The chime was a beautiful melody, and he could hear it ringing throughout the house. But no one answered. He rang it again and then walked around the side of the house. Some of the curtains were open and he could see inside, but there was still no sign of life.
He called out, to no reply. Please let them be home, he pleaded. It looked like all the others he had visited; the houses of the missing.
He went to the back door, through a vine-covered wire gate, and passed several rows of tools and garden furniture. He opened the spring-loaded fly-door and banged on the back door. He did not want to admit the obvious. He felt like shouting out, demanding them to appear.
From his car he phoned home, wanting to confirm for Lenny what he found. There was no answer. He assumed Lenny had gone home. Either that, or the impromptu prayer could not be interrupted.
Roy drove further away from home, to the one place, perhaps the only place, he knew was safe. He needed some time alone in talking with a good friend, one he knew he could still trust, one who thought along the same lines as him.
At least he’s still with us!
The monastery was built on the small island of the wide Semele River which magnificently wound its way through Carlow. The building’s high walls were made from locally quarried pink stone, and featured tiny, castle-style windows far above ground level. Watch-towers were spaced evenly around the fortress that covered every part of the island. The tops of large trees could be seen over the walls. A popular tourist spot was on the only bridge leading to the island. With the snow-tip
ped St Antipas mountains in the background, many a tourist wanted to pose there. Roy was surprised to see none when he crossed the bridge. Perhaps all the tourists are missing too.
The large wooden outer door was connected with a speaker system to the monks inside. Few people gained access, although many always tried. The monastery grounds were out of bounds for any hopeful tourist, no matter what price was offered. The monks had never once been bribed. Roy himself always had trouble getting in, even though Jamieson was one of the senior monks. After giving his name and waiting the customary five minutes, a buzzer signalled the door to open.
A young monk stationed at the door bowed his head to Roy without a word. Roy went down a narrow brick-encased walkway that worked its way up to the real door. There was an occasional set of steps, but no other feature. It made the monastery feel isolated, like another world. Roy knew it was just how the monks wanted it.
At the main door Roy went through the same process, with another five minute wait. When the door opened another monk was ready to take him to the man he wished to see. As a rule, they were always secretive about their fortified home, and careful about any visitor.
The large entrance room was dominated by a towering wide staircase that went up to a balcony that led to offices and other important rooms. It was an impressive place to wait; everything about it was of the finest quality, from the carpets and tiles, to the huge sparkling chandelier above the staircase. Roy had no idea how big the monastery really was. There were several stories of offices and prayer-rooms, and Carlow had long known rumours of more rooms existing underground, designed to take the monks even further away from the evils of the world.
Jamieson Laturette soon came to the top of the staircase to welcome Roy, and showed him through to his private office. Oil paintings adorned his walls, and his TCS always the latest model imported from the mainland. Jamieson presented Roy with the finest of coffee and selection of biscuits from his personal supply, and made him feel at home. Roy was not about to confess his involvement with Suzanne, but he did want to find some reassurance. Things were just getting out of hand.
“I am so sorry for you, Roy, in the loss of your church,” said Jamieson. “First your congregation, now the building itself? These days are truly dangerous.”
The words put Roy at ease. It was like old times, when they would sit and talk in private and comfort, in the days when everything was normal.
“The world’s gone crazy, Jamieson. The crisis of the missing people is bad enough, but there are other things too; things you wouldn’t believe.”
“I understand what you say. We here on this river island are protected from such a destructive, misguided society. That was why it was originally built here, you know. The Pravan people were so savage my spiritual forefathers were forced to find a safe haven here. And here we remain today. It was built to last, I would say.”
“A safe haven; I like that.”
“And you are always welcome here, my friend. Far from the ungodly world.”
“I know it, and appreciate it.”
“Don’t say that out of politeness, my friend. I will have you know many others here have expressed their sympathy about you and your church. With the news of your fire, we are all most upset for you.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to know who your friends are.”
“Especially during such testing times.”
“Jamieson, what do you think I should do? With the fire and loss of my church, I’ve let some people talk me into running my church service from my lounge.”
“Really?” Jamieson said with a quick, amused chuckle.
“We did it today.”
“Well, this is a surprise. So, how did it go?”
“Not too good, I guess. It wasn’t like a normal service. In its own way it was all right, and there’s plenty of room for improvement.”
“But it was better than nothing, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, of course. But what do you think? Should I continue on like this? Or should I give up the ministry altogether, find work in the world, and send my remaining people to other churches?”
“No, don’t do that, Roy. I would advise doing what you do best, my friend. I see nothing wrong with continuing with this group of yours. Perhaps, I might ask, I could join you?”
“You would want to join us?”
“I would be honoured to help you, my friend, to make up the numbers.”
“Don’t get me wrong, but I would have thought you had a good, stable place of worship here at the monastery.”
“Roy, we’ve talked for hours on this subject, have you forgotten? You know I’m always eager to experience new kinds of worship, no matter what form they may take.”
Roy was about to tell him about the new kind of worship that he saw from Wuting and Jian. As he thought about it he thought it was best to keep quiet about them, at least until he had them figured out. He then realised he had not listened to what Jamieson was saying. He could guess: it was Jamieson’s reasons for sharing the faith with others who see things different; the same Bible, the same God, he would say. Roy nodded and agreed with him, like he always did. He ended his visit with Jamieson promising to attend his next house-service. Roy partly hoped his two guests would be gone by then. After talking to Jamieson he felt like his mind was straightened out.
He went home and was startled to find Wuting, Jian and Lenny still praying in the lounge, face down on the carpet, unmoved from where he had left them. He did not disturb them and went to his office to study the rapture book, determined to sort it all out. He would get pen and paper and draw diagrams if necessary, but he was going to get to the bottom of it. If Lenny was right, that the Two were part of the mysterious 144,000, then Roy was going to make sure he knew all about them, and what they were doing in Carlow.