The Second Messiah Read Online Free PDF Page B

invoke unnatural phenomena. You hear people talking about guardian angels, that they feel there’s something supernatural watching over them. It’s that kind of feeling. A chill down your back that’s more than an intuition, that might warn you something bad’s going to happen. A feeling of a presence in an empty room. A sudden gust of wind, yet there’s no wind nearby.”
    “Those things have happened to you, Dad?”
    “Sometimes. I once remember sitting by my own father’s grave. It was a difficult time for me. I had problems to deal with and no one to turn to. That day I strongly felt his presence, sensed him near me in spirit. It was uncanny, but I was sure I felt his hand touch my shoulder, just the way he used to when I was in need of comfort. He’d look at me and say, ‘Bob, whatever it is that’s on your mind, I want you to share it with me and let me bear some of the burden.’ And I would, and he always did. I felt that same feeling that difficult day.”
    His father paused and met his son’s stare. “Jack, you’re at an age when you’ll start to question your beliefs, your future direction, even the reasons for your existence. It’s all part of growing up. But trust me on this one—there’s an afterlife.”
    Robert Cane put an arm around his son, hugged him close, and winked. “So promise me something? Someday when I’m gone I want you to know that even though I won’t be here in flesh, I’ll be here in spirit. You can still talk to me. Anything you want to say, anything you need to discuss, come sit by my grave and talk. Same with your mom. We’ll be listening, okay? You won’t see or touch us, but we’ll be standing next to you. Don’t ever forget that, Jack.”
    Years later, Jack wondered if his father had spoken those words simply to provide his only son with a small blanket of comfort—a touchstone to lessen the pain of loss after his parents had gone. Jack never knew the answer, only that talking worked. Some people talked to their dog, or to their image in the mirror. He talked over his parents’ graves and afterward felt the better for it. So long, Dad, Mom. We’ll talk again .
    And yet, despite his belief that he was being listened to in some unearthly dimension, always the questions came that were tiny seeds of doubt. Do we really meet again? Does the love we nurtured on this earth go on forever, beyond this universe, for all eternity?
    When he had finished his final words to his dead, he picked up the empty water bottle, stood, and turned toward the Land Cruiser.
    He heard a noise, looked up. Not a hawk this time but a sound like a metallic wasp—a distant helicopter, a speck in the sky. Shielding his eyes, Jack stared at the speck and then the noise faded and it was gone.

7

    FIVE THOUSAND FEET in the air Hassan Malik sat in the Bell helicopter and watched the Land Cruiser depart. He nodded to the pilot and ten minutes later the chopper touched down near the graves with a flurry of sand.
    The swish of the rotors died and Hassan climbed out, followed by Nidal. The scorching heat of the late afternoon ripped the air from their lungs, but they had known this desert furnace all their lives.
    In the distance, Hassan saw the faint plume of Cane’s Land Cruiser disappear toward Qumran.
    Hassan stood there, hearing the light murmur of the desert wind, as if he were listening for something, he wasn’t sure what. But for a moment, he could almost hear the ghostly echo of voices carry on the wind. In one of those flashes of recall, he was fifteen again, a poor Arab boy wearing cheap jeans and a pair of his father’s worn sandals, digging among the ruins of Qumran. And from that to now, so much in between.
    Hassan stepped over to the gravesite. He stared down at the lilies lying on the tomb, within the neat border filled with gravel chips. His own parents were long gone, buried in the chalk earth, his father dead on the same day as Jack Cane’s.
    He would never forget that day.