Chapter 7 - Living With the Pigs
“Once flesh and blood begins to journey down crooked paths, do they ever find their way back home?” wondered the compassionate Jasmine.
“You know the answer to that question, Dear One. It was decreed from the beginning. The end of wickedness is certain death, but the free gift is peace with heaven and life ever more. Their choice is their future. So it must be.”
It seemed to Micah that he had just fallen asleep when he was awakened by the sound of four bells. He looked at the clock radio next to his bed. Both hands were vertical. It was exactly midnight. He wasn’t sure why, but he got up and looked out of the hotel window. Across the street he saw the hospital construction site. A nearby bell clock began to chime. With the dull groan of every ring, Micah’s heart beat faster and faster. He was terrified but did not know why. Exactly twelve strokes rang out from the tower like the sound of a judge’s gavel banging on a metal bench as he declared the guilty verdict. Then Micah went back to sleep.
The following morning he went down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Micah opened the Jerusalem Post then quickly put down his coffee cup as he read the headlines:
“Sabotage or shoddy safety measures? The jury is still out. Fire broke out at the future site of the Rapha Children’s Hospital late yesterday evening. Workers are blaming Collins Enterprises for what has been called, ‘unsafe working conditions’. One on-site electrical worker told our Post reporter, ‘CEI does not care about the safety of their workers. None of the crews on this project feel safe, but what can we do? We need the work.’”
“Which one of our electricians told those reporters such nonsense?” yelled Micah over the phone as he and Zuriel discussed the unfolding, now public, drama.
“Unsafe working conditions my eye! Nothing could be farther from the truth. Since dad started CEI twenty-five years ago, we’ve never had such problems. Whoever the guy was who spoke to those reporters, I want him found and permanently escorted off site. And set up a meeting with Peter Massad as soon as possible. It’s time he and I had a heart-to-heart talk.”
“Oh, one more thing,” Micah added. “Is there a clock tower anywhere near the construction site?”
“No,” Zuriel replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Never mind. Call me when you get a hold of Massad. Thanks Zuriel.”
“Hi, Dad. Good to hear your voice too,” said Micah. “Hey, it will take a few days to clean up the site and get a new trailer set up for the electrical contractor and their subs. In the meantime, I don’t see any reason to delay the compaction work in the hole. Zuriel has ordered another shipment of rebar which will be here the end of next week. Another week and we should be ready for the concrete. At worst, we’re only looking at a delay of seven to ten days, probably less. Then we should be back on track.”
“There’s one more thing, Dad. The concrete subcontractor, a guy named Tobias Amir, is trying to strong-arm us into giving him twice his original bid. He’s threatened to withhold delivery if his bill is not paid in full within ten days of receipt. Massad hired all the subs. I’m meeting with Peter this afternoon to find out what this guy is up to. Amir’s out of his ever-loving mind if he thinks we’re going to fork over that kind of money, now or ever.”
“Call me as soon as you’re through with Mr. Massad,” said the senior Mr. Collins. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I’ll bet he knows more than he’s telling us. Have Zuriel see what he can do to counter the negative publicity. Such lies could ruin our reputation, internationally and stateside. And son, put a security team on site round the clock. As crazy as it may sound, we just may have a saboteur on our hands.”
“Well, keep looking!” ordered Tobias. “And call me when you find him. Then I want someone on this guy’s tail 24/7! I don’t want our silent business partner to go soft on us and try to weasel his way out of our agreement when this deal goes down. Got it?”
When Micah had not heard from Peter by 4:00pm, he phoned Zuriel. Frustrated by so many unanswered questions, Micah asked, “Where’s Massad!”
“No one knows,” Zuriel informed Micah. “He’s not at home and no one at the office has seen him since yesterday. I’ve left several messages but he’s not answering his cell phone.
“We’ve lost him, Sir,” reported an apologetic Captain Lyar. “My troops were on him when he left his house, then suddenly he just vanished.”
“Imbeciles! Send more troops if you have to! They can’t have gone far,” ordered the bad-tempered Commander Deobolas. “Turn that city upside down if you have to, but find them! Do you hear me?” he roared.
“It’s General Victor, oh Mighty One. We suspect he’s hiding our prey. Sizeable numbers under his command are making their way to this arena as we speak. Sir, are we confident we have sufficient ranks to defeat them in open combat?” asked the worried Captain.
Prince Roz interrupted his Commander to personally address the assembly of fearful subordinates standing before him.
“Have no fear, Soldiers of the Most Exalted Sovereign King of Darkness. Their land is his! Their world is his! The very air they breathe belongs to him! Now, you have your orders. Go...all of you and trouble me no more with your petty, foolish doubts or you will join in their ultimate fate!”
“Prince Michael, we are honored. Your assistance is most welcome,” declared a respectful General Victor. “The Elite Forces you bring will be a great asset in this crucial battle.”
The Zelphi recorded the dialogue in the Books of Life then turned the page.
Peter returned home late Friday night. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted, but could not quiet his thoughts enough to fall asleep. His mind was still racing from the events of the past few days. Trying to relax, he switched on the TV hoping to find some boring late night talk show which would lull him to sleep. But he was totally unprepared for the television programming he discovered. It was on every channel. No matter how many times he turned the dial, he saw the same terrifying images – images of himself.
He saw himself dressed in filthy rags, barefoot and covered in dirt from head to toe. He had cuts and bruises all over his face and hands. Peter watched his image on the small electronic screen stumble around what looked like a dark, back alleyway. He fell, he cried, he got up. He tried to take a few more steps, but with every attempt ended up back in the dirt as before.
Peter watched as he haphazardly made his way down the alley to what appeared to be the city dump. The TV screen was filled with images of mountains of garbage, broken bottles, burning piles of refuse, old tires, twisted pieces of discarded metal, rusted cars, dead animals, and ravaging pigs.
Horrified, Peter watched himself reach into one of the dented garbage cans, pull out a piece of moldy green bread covered with maggots and begin to eat it. Immediately he vomited. Wiping his mouth, he walked across the street, reached under a pile of rubbish and pulled out the remains of a dirty mattress. Covering himself with a torn piece of cardboard, he rolled over onto the mattress and closed his eyes. The electronic image froze showing Peter asleep on the filthy mattress.
Peter threw the remote control on the floor where it smashed into several pieces. Jumping up off the couch, he ran over to the TV and yanked the plug out of the electrical wall socket. It seemed like an eternity before the grainy, electronic images completely faded and the TV screen was black.
“I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I must be losing my mind!” he thought. “It’s Tobias! No, it’s Micah! No...I know. It’s my father! They are all trying to drive me crazy!” Peter became so distraught he curled up into a fetal position on the floor beside the couch and cried hysterically until he finally fell asleep.
The only reason he knew for sure he had actually fallen asleep that night was because of the dream. It was one of several dreams which began shortly after the accident. In this dream, Peter saw a man walking towards him. He could not see the man’s face, only his hands. As the man extended his arms Peter could see deep wound
s in both palms. Life blood dripped from the wounds to the ground beneath the man’s feet. Peter could see the letters of his own name carved into the flesh of each human hand. Then a voice said, “Peter, your name is etched within me. How could I ever forget you?”
“We’ve found him!” reported a thrilled demonic soldier.
Instantly, the edict went forth. “Destroy him!” commanded Deobolas.
From strategic locations in the olive trees across the street, servants of hell descended in mass towards Peter’s home. But before a single demon even reached the grassy front yard, a legion of Healing Ones had materialized directly in front of the advancing army. Encircling the entire perimeter of the residence with a flaming shield of light, Lieutenant Galen and his troops successfully held back the forces of darkness. All demands for the soul of Peter Massad were resolutely denied.