The Eden Conspiracy
Clayton B Carlson
Copyright 2017 Clayton B Carlson
ISBN: 978-1-988226-10-1
Published by First Page Solutions (Kelowna BC, Canada)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1: Divine Appointment
Chapter 2: Condemnation
Chapter 3: Prove It
Chapter 4: Game On
Chapter 5: But Others Say
Chapter 6: Road Hazard
Chapter 7: One Chance For Salvation
Chapter 8: Prove All Things
Chapter 9: Left Behind
Chapter 10: Show Me
Chapter 11: Old Testament Speaks
Chapter 12: The Second Coming
Chapter 13: New World Order
Chapter 14: Second Life
Chapter 15: Not All Who Call Me Lord
Chapter 16: Family Time
Chapter 17: Why That Way
Chapter 18: Chance Meeting
Chapter 19: Show Them Love
Chapter 20: New Ideas
Chapter 21: Persecution
About The Author
Chapter 1
Divine Appointment
The brbrbrbrbrbr sound from the Jake brake could be barely heard over the classic rock blaring out of the speakers in the old blue relic of a truck's cab. The truck was vintage for sure and looked good for its age, but it was bordering on the Rat Rod side of respectable. Not as bad as the old truck in the movie Duel, with Dennis Weaver. This old Star still had some shine, although it did look menacing enough in your rear view mirror to make you move over. Adam didn't consider himself to be an aggressive driver, he did his best to be polite and efficient, but if you were needlessly in the way, his patience did have an end. He could be often heard quoting his favourite bumper sticker, ‘Lead or Follow, But, GET OUT OF THE WAY’.
Dropping two gears and getting back into the Cummins's power band made the Jake bark to life like a pack of mad dogs. It didn't take long for the bobtail Western Star to lose its freeway speed as it made the slow right turn of the Sumas exit off ramp. As he rounded the corner Adam looked out his driver’s side window at a disheveled hitch hiker trying to catch a ride by holding up a piece of cardboard box with Kelowna written in red crayon. “He's a newbie,” Chuckled Adam, speaking to the empty cab, “Suitcase and all, who hitch hikes with a suitcase?”
Three minutes later Adam is backing under his reefer van at the grocery warehouse. A full length mural runs down both sides of the fifty three foot van displaying a well-endowed, naked woman, reclining back on one arm while eating a piece of fruit with a broad smile of complete satisfaction on her face. She is posed, relaxing under the shade of a large tree in the midst of a flower bed. Her most private body parts are barely hidden by the colourful flowers and leaves, just staying within the bounds of public modesty. EDEN'S DELIGHTS is boldly printed on a banner across the top of the mural proclaiming the company name.
After quickly cranking up the landing gear, then hooking up the light cord and air lines, Adam is back in the cab preparing to move his truck and trailer to the other side of the fenced yard where he parks clear of the loading bay dock. After spotting the rig out of the way he gets back out of the truck. With a single motion he swings out of the open cab door, his left hand gripping the top of the long grab handle attached to the truck’s cab beside the door frame. Adam slowed his catapulting decent with his hand as it slips down the handle, his boots gingerly touch down onto the compact gravel parking lot.
Heading towards the back of the trailer he checks the fifth wheel connection, lights and kicks the tires of the truck, slowly making his way towards the back he checks for anything amiss. After more tire kicking at the trailer wheels, he quickly looks inside the empty trailer for any noticeable damage and then closes the large back doors latching them securely.
“This will be a quick trip back home,” he thinks to himself. “I'll be just flying up those hills.”
Repeating the same checks on the passenger side, he heads towards the front of the truck. Having circled the unit in a counter clockwise direction, checking as he went, Adam is satisfied with the equipment's condition. Opening the driver’s door, he puts his work gloves together and sets them on the floor of the truck on top of the fire extinguisher between the driver's seat and door. Forcefully pushing the door shut he heads towards the warehouse, pausing to wipe dirt off of the quote painted on the side of the Western Star's front fender. The Quote is from the Bond movie Skyfall, ‘Sometimes the old ways are best’. Chuckling he wipes his dusty hands off on his pants as he walks.
Once in the depot he makes a bee line for the bathroom, the door slams behind him and he bolts it closed. Five minutes later he emerges wiping soapy water off his now clean hands with paper towel.
Jack the warehouse manager waves to him from his office door. “Hey Adam,” he bellows. “Have you got a minute?” Adam veers over towards the heavy set man in the stained white shirt.
“What’s up?” inquires Adam. “I was just getting ready to leave.”
“Are your log books all in order for this month?” demands Jack. “The damn CVSE has been riding my ass for the past month with audits. Even you owner-ops have to be accounted for. Are you sure you’re not over on your time?”
Laughing Adam sings his response to Jack. “Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies.”
Jack's face lightens into his normal beaming smile. “You wouldn't have so much to sing about, if it was you having to pay the fines. Come to think of it, they only complain about small stuff with your paperwork, nothing worthy of a fine.”
Adam smiles knowingly. “That's because I don't cheat.”
Jack scoffs at the idea. “Ya right. I won't ask any questions, I don't want to make you a liar.” Turning back into his office Jack mumbles to Adam. “Have a good trip, if that old thing makes it.”
“Ya, ya, ya, it's not my old truck that has to sit while DPF and computer parts are on back order like those new ones of yours,” retorts Adam with a grin. While tossing the wet crumpled paper towel into the trash can he adds sweetly. “Have a good day, and good luck with the CVSE.”
Reclining in the driver’s seat of his truck, Adam is using his hands free phone, talking to his wife back home. His side of the conversation can be heard, while her side sounded more like Charlie Brown’s teacher.
“No! I’m not going to sit around down here for two days while the log book catches up.”
“It's Sunday, I've called and the scales are closed, so there will be no pictures of the truck plates with traceable date and time stamps.”
“I fueled up last night and I won't make any purchases with a card. I have some cash if I do need anything.”
“Ya, ya, of course.”
“No, don't be silly.”
“I will park out at the Sindou farm when I get back. They said they could be loading on Tuesday afternoon and I won’t have to pick it up until Wednesday.”
“I know, I will, it's only four or five more hours and I will be home with you. Then we can have two days off together.”
“I know.”
“I love you too.”
“I love you four.”
“No, I love you more.”
“Hay I know what I'll do. I saw a lost lamb looking for a ride on the way over here to pick up the trailer, If he’s still there I'll give him a lift, he can keep me company all the way home.”
“No, I've never seen him before.”
“OK. Sure. I'll send you his picture when he gets in, just in case he's an axe murderer.”
“Bye love.”
“I love you too Lil.”
After pushing the call end button, Adam reaches over to his laptop set up in
the dash glove box, opening an audio file of mixed favourites, tunes soon fill the cab as he herds his big rig back towards the freeway and the newbie suitcase toting hitchhiker.
Adam sees the lone figure standing forlornly near the end of the on ramp at the edge of the road. He pulls his truck slowly past the cardboard destination sign and onto the paved shoulder. There wasn't a lot of room for the large trailer and it protruded awkwardly into the roadway.
“Lucky thing there’s no traffic,” thought Adam, as he impatiently waited for the hitchhiker to get to his truck. Adam kept checking his mirrors for the lone man with the suitcase but had not seen him coming yet. After what felt like ten minutes to Adam, he pulled the tab out from under the turn signal lever activating the four way flashers and then set the park brakes.
Mumbling to himself he jumped, as before, out of his truck. “Some people need a personal invitation to do anything. I haven't got all day,” he said a bit angrily. Striding to the back of the trailer he went three paces past the end, whistled loudly and waved at the oblivious pedestrian who was standing staring off into the clouds. A sudden downpour of rain from the darkening sky seemed to get the hitchhikers attention. Dropping his cardboard sign, he held his suitcase above his head, in a futile attempt to shield himself from the sudden deluge. Dripping wet from the rain he dashed towards the passenger side of the truck. Adam ran ahead of him opening the passenger door wide, helping him up the fuel tank steps and into the warm dry cab. Adam had no sooner ran around the front of the truck and climbed behind the steering wheel that the rain stopped as quickly as it had started.
Earlier that morning on the outskirts of town, in a remote forested area, a lonely figure surveys what had been his home for the latest chapter of his life. The dorm room sits vacant and dank. It is small for two people, the cramped space made worse by the smell of sweaty socks and mildew. Condensation drips down the inside of the old single pain window, creating small swamps of greeny brown water on the windowsill. Two small dressers sitting side by side is all that separates the old metal cots. A thread bare tattered rug, little bigger than a table place mat, is on the floor beside each of the small beds to help avoid the cold cracked linoleum when getting up out of them.
The room reflects the Spartan, conservative values, of the small denominational Bible college that built the dorms seven decades earlier. Not much has changed within the Bible college since it was dedicated to the Lords service on that long ago August. Both buildings and teachings had not been altered or changed from that past age of strong authoritarian leadership.
It's been within these walls of learning that Isaac has spent the past fourteen months as he had stayed through the summer to take extra courses. Isaac was raised in the fundamentalist teachings of his loving, devout parents chosen denomination. He had been home schooled, repeatedly studying the bible scriptures validating the doctrines of their beliefs, which reinforced the Godly correctness of those beliefs in Isaac's mind.
Isaac didn't know how the adventures of his life would play out, but he knew who he trusted to get him to his final destination. He had always felt like he had a mission to accomplish in his life, although the mission statement was undefined, Isaac knew that he was on a mission from God. He was just waiting for God to open a door and he would gladly walk through it.
Speaking of doors, Isaac was about to walk through a big one. Earlier that week he had informed his parents on his decision to leave Bible college and go back home to help them with their small family painting business. His dad had fallen off a ladder, leaving him with a concussion and a broken leg. Isaac’s parents tried to dissuade him from leaving college, siting the need to continue his schooling, but he would have none of it. Silently they were glad for his stubborn side, as they did need the help, and the mounting bills had to be paid.
Isaac’s resolute decision to return home didn't sit well with the college dean though. The dean put a high value on his institutions instruction. He felt Isaac was throwing his education away for a small setback in his parents’ life that they could get over by themselves. The dean urged Isaac to fast and pray for them while staying on at school, instead of abandoning his studies.
With Isaac's refusal and determination to go home to help his parents, the dean refused to refund Isaac's unused tuition fees, or his room and board which had been prepaid till the end of the school year. Furthermore the dean steadfastly refused to issue Isaac recognition for the school work that he had already completed. All of his college documentation would read ‘INCOMPLETE’. If Isaac was to leave now, the dean made it clear there would be no coming back as long as he was in charge.
The ultimatums only served to strengthen Isaac's resolve to return home. He felt in his heart it was the right thing to do, and had faith that if it was a mistake God would work things out for the good regardless. After making his way out of the dorms, Isaac walked slowly down the college’s windy, tree lined gravel driveway to the road.
Carrying all of his belongings in one old worn suitcase he prayed earnestly as he walked into his future.
“Father, I want to be doing your will in my life. Please guide me in the paths you want me to travel and teach me your wisdom. I want to learn about your mysteries. Let me not be shy in talking to others about my faith in you and the salvation only you provide.”
Being a Sunday morning, the entire college was at chapel leaving Isaac alone to find his own way home. He was reluctant to spend any of the few dollars he had on a bus ticket home, so he planned to hitch whatever ride he could find. He felt bad about such an excursion on Sunday but had little choice but to start his trip as soon as he could. “An ox in the ditch,” Isaac consoled himself, trying to remain positive about still having over three hundred miles to go before he could relax in his parents’ home once again.
Approaching the road Isaac imagined being picked up by a family on their way to church. He rehearsed some witty ad lib lines just in case he might need them. The pickup that stopped for him not far from the college driveway had a lone occupant in it. The truck was old, run down, rusty, and had trouble idling as its brakes squealed to a stop. The driver filled the entire space allotted for the vehicle's operator. His tattooed arms bulged out of his chest straining the seams of his t-shirt.
“Want a ride? I'm going as far as the freeway.”
“Yes please”, Isaac replied excitedly. “That would be great. What takes you out this fine Sunday morning?” inquired Isaac, trying to make conversation to ease his nerves.
“I can't stay home on Sunday mornings”, says the big man, wiping beads of sweat from his brow. “I live next to that dam college and every Sunday morning they raise such a ruckus I can't stand to be around here. I go into town for breakfast at Tim's by the freeway. I complained a few times about the noise, but it did no good. Those dam Bible thumpers got the law on their side. Where are you off to?” the big man asks, while carefully taking stock of Isaac.
“I'm going to hitch hike home to Kelowna,” replied Isaac. “Getting to the freeway would be a great help.”
“Huh,” grunts the big man. “You better stay off the freeway if you’re going to be hitch-hiking. The cops will fine you and drive you back to town. Your best bet is to make up a sign with where you want to go and stand on the on ramp before it enters the freeway. Technically on ramps aren’t part of the freeway, but someone getting on might pick you up,” he advises.
“Thanks,” Isaac says. “I'll do that.” The rest of the fifteen minute trip was silent except for the wheezing of the old pickup truck.
It was a four block walk for Isaac to get to the proper on ramp for the freeway after being dropped off by the big man. He found a stubby red wax crayon and a piece of cardboard in an open dumpster behind the Tim Horton’s. Making the suggested destination sign, Isaac puts down his suitcase and plants himself near the freeway end of the on ramp just as an old semi-truck is taking the freeway exit. Isaac sees the truck driver's grizzled face as he passes by and wonders. “Why is that old gu
y working on the Lords day of rest? He should know better,” he thought to himself, as his heart ached due to the loss of Godly wisdom that plagued modern society.
No other traffic was to be seen using Isaac's piece of the transportation system, just that one old truck, with the one old sinful driver. Isaac longed for the imagined family to show up and give him a ride on their way to church but he knew they would not be coming for him.
Forty minutes drag by before Isaac has his first glimpse of the huge rolling billboard of lustful sin heading his way. He could make out the naked woman on the side of the large semi-trailer as it came up Sumas Rd. before turning onto the on ramp heading for the freeway. The old truck's exhaust stacks smoked a dark grey as it pulled up the on ramps incline. Isaac watches in disapproving shock as the truck slows and comes to a stop just past where he stood.
“Is he stopping for me?” Isaac asks out loud. Pleading, he looks sky ward. “Oh God, please let someone else give me a ride, pleeeaaase.”
“Maybe I can ignore him and he will leave,” thinks Isaac. Not moving or acknowledging the parked semi a stone’s throw away, Isaac stands motionless, face turned skyward. A whistle and a holler breaks into Isaac's thoughts, “Lord if this is from you please give me a sign.” No sooner had that thought formulated in Isaac's brain that God responded with an attention grabbing blast of cold water pouring down on his head. Scrambling in obedience, Isaac dashes for the safety of the truck’s cab, using his suitcase as a makeshift umbrella.
Chapter 2
Condemnation