Desolation

“God told me to take my people west to a new promised land. We are to take what we can carry and leave tomorrow. Whoever wishes to follow me can come along. If you decide to come, you are to process forward and speak to my staff, letting them know what possessions you have to offer this ministry and what skills you possess.” He stopped for just a moment to let what he said sink in, and then continued, “I’m going to leave you in peace and fast until tomorrow when we leave.”

He turned away from the crowds and stepped down from the makeshift platform, which seemed higher than it was, and walked through the lobby and up to his room.

His exit elicited only a few claps, scattered among them like a light breeze. Then, when the crowd awoke from its collective trance and realized he was done, applause erupted, a giant tornado, an ovation that lifted their praise directly to God himself.

The Teacher offered no guidance to Thomas or to his staff about what they should do with the processionists coming forward; their unsteady gazes fell to the ground rather than to the faces of those people converging on them.

Thomas sprang into action. “John, Peter, and Martha, get three tables set up here.” Thomas pointed to the entry way in front of the lobby doors. “Sam, you and Stan go get paper, pencils or pens and buckets right away and bring them to the tables. Franklin, you and Sandra help people get organized into three lines.

“People,” he declared to the crowds who were already collecting, automatically knowing he was in charge, “those coming west with us need to make three lines here behind this woman.” He grabbed a woman in front of him and pointed to her, his hands making large arcs downward so that everyone could see. “And this man,” he said as he grabbed another follower, “and this man,” grabbing the last one, again with exaggerated motions, indicating the three lines to be formed.

Franklin and Sandra took his lead and moved into the crowd telling people where to line up, while John and Peter set up the tables and Martha the rolling chairs behind each, grabbed from the business center just inside the entrance. Sam and Stan had already brought out the supplies: pens and paper, the hotel stationery, and containers to hold followers’ material offerings.

Thomas instructed John, Peter, and Martha, who were already seated, to make numbered lists, writing down each person’s full names, any distinguishing traits, their gifts or offerings, and their useful skills. If a follower had no skill to speak of, he instructed them to ask if they could repair anything, cook, or shoot a gun.

They all looked up at Thomas when he said the last part.

Thomas stood beside the table and ushered up the first three. “Are you coming with us west tomorrow?” Thomas started the questioning with the woman who was first in line at Martha’s place.

“Yes, I would follow that man anywhere. You know, my mother-in-law says he’s Jesus, come down from heaven a second time,” she hung her head a little, waiting for her next instructions.

Thomas looked at Martha, prompting her to continue.

“Thank you, ma’am,” she said, and waited until the woman looked at her. “What is your name?”

“Susie Carmichael.”

Martha wrote her name, and in the second column wrote “red wire-rimmed glasses.” She leaned over to Thomas, who bent down to ear level, and whispered, “I wrote that she wears red wire-rimmed glasses.” She, like all of the Teacher’s staff, knew that Thomas was illiterate.

Thomas nodded with a smile and then looked at John and Peter at the other tables, who copied Martha’s technique, anxious to perform as Thomas—and therefore the Teacher—wanted.

“What do you bring as a gift offering to the Teacher’s ministry?” Martha continued.

Behind her red glasses Susie looked up and to the right, hoping for inspiration. Then, her face lit up, and she took off her gold watch. “I didn’t bring any money with me, will this do?”

Martha looked up to Thomas, who nodded.

“Are there any family joining you?” Thomas thought to ask at the last minute.

Susie looked behind her, searching, and then back to Thomas and Martha. “No, I think I’m on my own.”

“Write underneath her name ‘no family.’ Do something similar if there are friends or family, by writing their names and their traits,” Thomas instructed Martha, who scribbled away. The others listened carefully and made notes.

“Susie,” Thomas continued the questioning, “what skills do you offer our group?”

“I’m a paramedic—have been for twenty years,” she said with a squaring of her shoulders.

“If you are able, go home and get any medical equipment, one change of clothes, and some food, and make sure you are back here tomorrow morning by sunrise. You got that?” He waited for Susie’s acknowledgement. She agreed, then turned and left presumably to return. He then looked at Martha and said, “Got all that?”

“So we want them to go and come back?” Martha asked.

“Only if they can make it home and then return before sunrise tomorrow.”