Wind in the Hands
People were talking about the miracles of the Stranger, only a small part of which happened in reality. The Stranger smiled: if he criticizes, the crowd will stone him. He looked at a body in blood. The face was disfigured and in blood bruises, an opened mouth showed debris of teeth, but his clothes looked familiar. He came closer, recognized. He stood near the dead man for a while and remembered his bright, sad eyes.
“Who did that?” shouted Stranger.
“This man is from the community ‘Power of Light’, and they blemish the great prophet,” he got the answer.
“It’s the Mediator, he is the only one who knew about the Stranger’s arrival and he accepted him like a friend. And you killed him! Why did you take his life away? Whom did you make a service to? The Prince? He doesn’t know about you. The Lord? God doesn’t need such workers. You are a shame for Him,” the Stranger didn’t belong to himself any more, words came off his lips and stroke right into the hearts of the people. They fell on the ground with screams for forgiveness, offering prayers. “I could eradicate you, weed the land out from people like you, but I am not going to become like you. Breathe, the air is poisoned anyway. You shout that you are the servants of God praying daily. Once a week you gather together, sing sweet songs and you think that you labor for Him, you are expecting a reward. Your reward is reserved for you: they are moth and worms.”
The Stranger took a lot of effort to get back to himself. He looked at the land staring at something. Not everyone was on his knees, not everyone repented. One young man recovered from the shock, caused by the Stranger’s words, he took a stone and threw it into the Stranger. The pebble got into the window, a few pieces of glass fell on the Stranger’s head. Blood splashed on his shirt. The folks were frozen. Everyone was looking at him, but he only smiled.
“The Prophesy! The Prophesy!” shouted someone from the crowd. “Remember his clothes stained in blood, caused by an unrighteous, and he is laughing. His face is in blood and he is smiling!”
The people ran up to him:
“Who are you? What is your name?”
“I was just passing by,” he said in a quiet voice.
“What shall we do? What shall we do?” people turned to him from every side.
“Don’t kill anymore and don’t let anyone kill,” responded the Stranger. “Go to your homes, pray and wait. May be God will have mercy on you.”
“Do you know the Stranger? How can we find him?”
“I know another Stranger.”
“Is there another Stranger?”
“You have twisted his image, you ascribed him the words that he didn’t say and the actions he didn’t do.”
“Can you find him?”
“What for?”
“People are dying in the City and we don’t know why. We believe that he can help.”
Crying women and scared children were looking at him with hope. The Stranger didn’t know how to help, the antidote should be in each one of them, but how can you find it? What if to take away the reason of the deadly disease? He thought about the Prince again...
A few men came up to him, one of them carried water.
“Not all of the people among us are insane or killers. People are scared, most of them have weak knees and they have hanged their hands. The Courier came up the steps and started to preach that our faith will not save us during the disaster. He accused us of spiritual blindness, deceitful lips and hypocrisy. He said that the Stranger called him a brother. People couldn’t stand this and some young people attacked him. We were not able to stop the slaughter. The Courier didn’t deserve to die. Lots of people get killed nowadays. People are insane, we are not even trying to bring them back to reason, but the authorities aren’t respected, the power and weapon are in honor. Believe us, we pray daily, we do the ancient rituals and sacraments, we honor the holy books with all our hearts, we preach and gather sacrifices, we help priests and everyone who is in need. Aren’t we working for God? Aren’t we the workers in His field?”
The Stranger thanked for the water and said:
“A master of the estate sent a servant to dig around his garden; he went further on into the pure field and started sowing poppy seeds. That servant came to his master at the end of the day and said, ‘Be happy for I’ve sowed poppy seed in the field behind the garden.’
The Master was in rage, he shouted: ‘You are insane! My son sowed best wheat in that place. Go away, you have no place in my house, you have ruined the labor of my son’.”
The Stranger raised his voice and continued:
“I saw how you honor the holy books with kisses. Tell me, does the wisdom come into those who kiss stones, copper and wood?”
Someone from the crowd shouted: “Idolatry!”
“OK,” agreed the Stranger. “How about those who kiss paper, skin and velvet? What are the holly books in reality? They are the God’s plan. Is this what you believe? Which of you will say that he has touched the thought of the Lord with his lips? Who holds His will in his hands? If an apprentice kisses drawing of a carpenter in respect, whom will he please by such service? But if accomplishing the work exactly following the drawing, he will be praised. You are perfecting yourself in silliness and expect favor from wisdom?
‘The need had come for a fool so that he came to get an advice of a wise man, how to put obedience into his son. The wise man responded: ‘Obedience is put in by the whip through the back when the whip doesn’t get off it.’ Since the wise man had great respect, the fool did exactly what had been told. And his son walked with a whip tied to his back, not knowing what it was for.
Coming to the wise man again, the fool said: ‘The whip doesn’t help my son.’ Then the wise man advised: Stubbornness is straightened by the knowledge of wise books. Tie him to the books so that his forehead and his hand wouldn’t get up or down without them.’ And the fool has tied a pile of books through the forehead to his son’s hand. The young man wasn’t able to keep his balance and fell down under the books’ burden. Of course, you are priests,” continued the Stranger. “You can’t be compared with sinners, the servants of their own passions, but you’ve taken the responsibilities that nobody gave you. You blemish the plan of the Lord by your action. You give empty hope to people’s souls, promising them a ticket to the country of the Eternity. You have set up organizations, parties, and orders; you have built square buildings. God doesn’t live in the buildings of certain shape, but in the hearts. Your system is a delusion, a trap for the best and the worthy ones. You help some people but you destroy the others.”
The Stranger was ready to leave when he noticed a lonely figure. Someone was standing aside of the square, away from the crowd and nobody came close to him. The Stranger was seized by a strong feeling of worry. He felt power and horror coming from this person.
“The Enemy,” he whispered with pale lips. “I will not be afraid. I have the Power on my shoulders, the Wind in my palms, while my fists are ready for a fight.” The Stranger was filled with the Wind. He felt hoops on his head, squeezing his temples. His shoulders were filled with strength and his palms were pouring out power. The Stranger decided that it was time to look into the eyes of the Enemy, and he slowly approached him.
“I know you. You are the Enemy,” he said loudly and distinctly.
“I am the Prince,” said the man with eyes of a snake.
“You are the ruler of this world. But you have no power over me because I am not of this world.”
“I have the power. I am the only one to chase the Exterminators out. Go away or you’ll die. Your time is up without even starting.”
The Stranger was ready to fight till death, but he asked and heard a loud familiar Voice: “Retreat.” The tension, caused by the foreboding of the fight started reducing.
“I am leaving,” said the Stranger as indifferently as he could.
The Enemy didn’t respond but his eyes of a snake looked happily and mockingly at him.
Before leaving, the Stranger cast a look on th
e square.
“Why did I retreat? Why haven’t I tried? Blindly trusted the Voice and didn’t fulfill my mission? Still, it was the same Voice that saved me in the tunnel, though the Seer helped me as well. Has the word ‘Prince’ deluded those who are chosen? For he calls himself Prince, but only of this world. The Enemy will chase the Exterminators away and receive the power? He will free the people from horror. And everyone will give him honor. But the Hermit couldn’t have been mistaken. It means there is still a hope. I need to search.”