An old man picking up trash and putting it into a bag noticed Oscar standing in front of the Golden Gate. Wearing the cloak and robe while carrying a staff, Oscar looked like a character straight out of the Torah. He stared at Oscar wondering what he was doing at the Golden Gate. Considering the current religious climate, the old man was halfway convinced that Oscar was going to march into Jerusalem after breaking down the wall that had been built to render the gate useless. He held his breath.
Oscar looked at the old man and smiled. In Hebrew, he said, "I am not the one who will enter this gate."
The old man let out his breath with a sigh of relief. He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture and said, "Don't scare an old man like that. Times are too dangerous to play around. Someone could think the wrong thing and kill you."
Nodding his head, Oscar said, "I'm pretty sure that anyone who kills me will be thinking the wrong thing."
"That's always the case," the old man said. Feigning disinterest, he turned his back on Oscar and went back to picking up trash.
Oscar walked away from the Golden Gate and entered the old city of Jerusalem through the Dung Gate. Legend says that it is named that because the priests of the old temple used that gate when they carried off the dung scraped from the floor of the temple after the sacrifices were held. The offal was burned in the Valley of Hinnom. Whether that story is true or not, the name has remained. While the history of the gate is ancient, the gate itself it not quite the same as it was in ancient times. It was widened to allow cars to pass through it. Oscar put a hand on the wall of the gate and tried to imagine what it had once looked like.
He didn't tarry long at the gate despite the fact that he wasn't in any particular hurry. The route to the Western Wall of the Temple of Solomon took him through the Jewish Quarter. He paused to watch some kids playing with a soccer ball. There weren't enough kids or space to hold a game, but they ran along the street passing the ball back and forth with passes of varying degrees of skill. There were shouts of joy when the ball passed from one kid to the next in what was deemed good form. It seemed to Oscar that no matter where he went, kids were kicking around a soccer ball. With so much in common, he wondered how it was that kids forgot how to play and chose to fight.
The kids passed from view and Oscar returned to his travels. He hadn't gone far when an old grandmother came out of one of the houses carrying an infant in her arms. The old woman was smiling down at the child and then up at her neighbors. Oscar paused to watch the old women gather around the grandmother and infant. The looks exchanged among the women were as ancient as the city.
Oscar didn't need to know the language to understand the conversation. The grandmother was praising her grandchild's intelligence and beauty. The other women were acknowledging the wonderful attributes of the infant while managing to boast a little about their grandchildren.
Oscar grinned as he thought of his mother seeing the two pairs of twins for the first time. He knew that the vision he had been given was accurate on that count. His wives were pregnant with twins although they wouldn't know that for a while. He went over to the old woman and asked, "Is that your grandchild?"
"Yes, he is," the woman answered examining Oscar with a critical eye. It took a full five seconds for her to realize his identity.
"He is lucky to be born in these times," Oscar said looking at the child with a grin.
"The times are not good. I worry about the future. I'm not sure that the kids have one," one of the neighbor women said.
Looking over at her, Oscar said, "Today is the day that the world changes."
"I've heard that a thousand times. When Hitler was defeated, I heard that evil had been vanquished. Evil still walks the land," the old woman said. She gestured to the child and said, "One day that evil will knock on the doors of our grandchildren and we won't be here to protect them."
The grandmother looked at her neighbor for a second and then said, "I believe him. I believe that the world is going to change today."
"Thank you," Oscar said. It was getting late and the crowds would be growing at his destination. He turned and walked away leaving the old women discussing the state of the world.
Before reaching the Western Wall, Oscar spotted a news van. The camera crew was pulling equipment out of the van. One of the men grumbled, "It's just a rumor that this Druid Prophet is going to be here. We've been chasing rumors for six months now and none of them have panned out. What's so special about this one?"
"It's not a rumor. He's going to be here today," said another man.
Another man said, "It's the winter solstice today. That's some sort of special holiday for pagans."
Chuckling at the comments, Oscar made his way to the Western Wall tunnel. His destination was the Struthion pool. This was a pool that had been incorporated into an ancient moat constructed under the orders of King Herod. No one noticed him enter the tunnel. He stopped at the pool and sat down looking at the reflections in the still water. It was quiet there and Oscar knew he would not be disturbed.
Shortly before noon, Reverend Leroy Jones stepped out of the Church of St John the Baptist. He paused and looked up at the clear blue sky above. It was a glorious day. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was time to go. Using his cane, he headed down the street towards the Western Wall. It wasn't that long of a walk to his destination, but at his age it was a difficult walk. He was wearing his finest suit.
The streets were more crowded than usual. It seemed that people were just milling around waiting for something to happen. He moved through the crowd without drawing any attention. It was as if he were invisible.
He was about halfway to his destination when he overhead a man say, "Ignore the differences? What the hell does that mean? There's no way that I'm going to bend over so that some faggot can slip his dick in my ass. That's what happens when you ignore differences. How are you supposed to ignore that? It's an abomination, that's what it is."
Looking sad, Leroy continued down the street for a few steps and then stopped. Echoing words that had been spoken over two thousand years earlier, he looked up at the sky and said, "Forgive them; for they know not what they do."
When there was no answer, Leroy resumed walking towards his destination with a sad heart. He had a feeling that today there would be no forgiveness. He wondered how in a world filled with such hate and intolerance there could ever be peace. He reached the Western Wall and walked to it. There were surprisingly few people there, but those few looked tense. More people were arriving by the minute.
He looked around the square and spotted several dozen television crews set up to film whatever was about to happen. Shaking his head, he whispered, "Don't you know that miracles can't be filmed?"
Rabbi Teitelbaum, feeling better than he had in days, stepped out of the Ramban Synagogue. He stretched and patted his stomach happy to be free of the pain even if it was for just a few hours. Looking up at the sky he was pleased to see that there wasn't a cloud in it. He turned his gaze earthward and watched the people around him. There was a tension in how they acted. Reinforcing the tension was an undercurrent of anger.
He stepped into the street and headed towards the Western Wall. As he walked, he thought about the times when he had written his prayers on small pieces of paper and then slipped them between the bricks. He tried to remember if he had ever asked for peace. He remembered praying for Israel to be victorious over its enemies. He couldn't remember how many times he had prayed for vengeance after his wife had died, but it was a lot. Thinking back, he realized that peace was one thing for which he had never prayed at the Wall.
Upon reaching the Western Wall, he spotted Reverend Leroy Jones standing near the far end of the square. He nodded to him. The elderly black man nodded back, but they didn't speak. Distance would have required them to shout and nerves made their voices shaky and uncertain. Both men turned to look in the direction from which they expected Imam Abdel-Malik to arrive.
Seated upon his wheelchair, Imam Abdel-Malik rolled out of the Al-Aqsa Mosque. He looked up at the sky and said, "It is a beautiful day."
"Yes, it is." Although the Imam's wheelchair was powered, his bodyguard grabbed the handles to push it. The bodyguard asked, "Where to?"
"The Western Wall," Imam Abdel-Malik answered. He thought about the route he would have to take to reach the wall. It was going to be a long trip that required the bodyguard to keep the wheelchair from getting out of control.
The bodyguard had known the destination, but didn't like it. It was his hope that Imam Abdel-Malik would change his mind. Trying one last time, he said, "You can't go there. I can't protect you there."
"You aren't going there. I need you to get me to street level and I will go there alone," Imam Abdel-Malik said.
"They'll kill you," the bodyguard said with tears in his eyes.
"I am a servant of Allah. I live by his will alone," Imam Abdel- Malik said patting the man who had been with him for years on the arm.
The bodyguard didn't know what to answer. In Islam, everything happens according to Allah's will. Nodding his head, he said, "I'll take you there."
"Thank you," Imam Abdel-Malik said.
The trip was not easy for a man trapped in a wheelchair, but they reached the street to the Western Wall. Imam Abdel-Malik looked at the man who had watched over him for a dozen years and said, "Farewell, my friend. May Allah bless you."
"Allah's will be done," the bodyguard said. Stepping back, he watched the elderly man operate that controls that allowed him to roll down the street. The temptation to follow was too strong and he walked two dozen steps behind the old man.
Imam Abdel-Malik rolled into the area in front of the Western Wall. The first faces he saw were those of Reverend Leroy Jones and Rabbi Teitelbaum. The men exchanged nods and turned to face the Western Wall of the Temple of Solomon. A huge crowd appeared as if by magic. The majority of men gathered were not happy to see the three religious leaders gathered together in that place. With murmurs of discontent beating upon their backs, the three men watched the wall.
Oscar stepped from the Western Wall tunnel. With his staff clicking on the stones below with each step, he made his way to face the three elderly men. The murmurs of discontent silenced for a second and then rose to angry shouts. Everyone there knew that something significant was about to happen.
Having spent the night watching the Wailing Wall, Georgia and Debbie came to attention the moment Reverend Leroy Jones arrived. They stood at the window watching the scene unfold below. It was not a peaceful scene. Afraid of what they were going to see, they held each other with grips that would leave bruises.
Georgia pointed to a man in the crowd and asked, "Isn't that Reverend Leroy Jones's bodyguard over there?"
"Yes," Debbie answered. She glanced back at Oscar and then said, "Oscar's about to speak."
Oscar stood there for a full minute facing the angry crowd. He struck the ground three times with the end of his staff. The noises, as loud as cannons firing, echoed off the walls bringing quiet to those watching. In a voice that reverberated across the entire Old City of Jerusalem, Oscar said, "I am the Druid Oscar Meyers. I have been commanded by the Powers that Be to deliver messages to their followers."
Pausing for a second, Oscar waited for the tension to build. Once he decided that it was sufficient, he said, "Yahweh has commanded me to say unto his followers, 'Those who gave the Land to my people did not own it. It was not theirs to give. Make it right!'"
Rabbi Teitelbaum, in a voice just as loud as Oscar's voice, said, "I am the Rabbi Teitelbaum. On behalf of all followers of Yahweh, I accept his command and commit Jews everywhere to obey it."
An angry voice from the crowd shouted, "No! You do not speak for all Jews!"
Debbie whispered, "The crowd looks angry."
Georgia nodded her head and watched as Oscar said, "Jehovah has commanded me to say unto his followers, 'Embrace what people have in common and ignore the differences.'"
Reverend Leroy Jones said, "I am the Reverend Leroy Jones. On behalf of the followers of Jehovah, I accept his command and commit Christians everywhere to obey it."
The crowd surged forward three steps. Another voice rang out from the crowd, "You'll burn in hell for those words. Remember Sodom and Gomorrah!"
Looking at the raw anger on the faces of the crowd, Debbie turned from the window and said, "I can't look. They are going to tear them to pieces."
Oscar said, "Allah has commanded me to say unto his followers, 'The killing in my name must stop. Jihad by the Sword must end.'"
Imam Abdel-Malik reached up with his one good hand and stroked his beard. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I am the Imam Abdel- Malik. On behalf of the followers of Allah, I accept his command and commit Muslims everywhere to obey it."
A harsh angry voice shouted, "No! The infidels must die!"
Shouts of protest echoed across the square as the crowd surged forward another few steps. Georgia could see guns being drawn by men within the mob. She wanted to scream, but nothing would come out of her mouth.
Facing the mob, Oscar said, "The Powers That Be have heard your acceptance and commitment to obey their command. Thus it has been said, so shall it be!"
Rocks and bottles flew in the direction of the four religious men. A rock struck Oscar and he reached up to touch where it had struck him. There was a look of surprise on his face. The rock had hit him, but he hadn't felt a thing. He looked in the direction from which the rock had been thrown. He suddenly remembered the words the Goddess had spoken as he had fallen asleep upon accepting this service, "Do not worry, there shall be no pain."
Gunshots rang out and Oscar fell to the ground. Almost simultaneously, Reverend Leroy Jones, Rabbi Teitelbaum, and Imam Abdel-Malik went down under a hail of bullets. The crowd surged forward with the intent to tear them apart. It wasn't enough for them to kill the four, they had to destroy them and wipe their existence off the face of the Earth.
Seeing the crowd surge forward, Georgia screamed out in anguish. Unable to ignore the events happening right outside the window, Debbie looked out and saw Oscar lying on the ground. He looked up at the window and mouthed the words, "I love you both."
Within seconds of Oscar's death, the blue sky turned dark as black clouds boiled up from nowhere. From the clouds, bolts of lightning struck the mob. Fingers of white hot plasma danced around the crowd incinerating everyone they touched. Angry shouts quickly turned to screams of terror. Men tried to run, but to no avail.
Georgia watched with wide eyes at the destruction. Debbie pointed in the direction of Oscar's body. Georgia turned to see what she was trying to convey with her gestures. Oscar's body had floated off the ground and was surrounded by a soft glow. After a second, his body disappeared. With their attention on Oscar, they did not see that the same thing had happened with the bodies of the other three men. Throughout, the lightning bolts had continued to dance through the crowd.
As fast as the divine retribution started, it ended. Silence descended upon the entire city; deafening in contrast to the roar of the thunder that had accompanied the lightning. The black clouds disappeared and the sun shone upon the square. A handful of people, those few who had come to hear and obey the words of their God, were left in the square.
The cameras which had been covering the event had failed to capture the lightning. For four seconds, they had broadcast nothing except static. When the lightning stopped, the cameras resumed broadcasting the scene as if nothing had been the matter. Cameramen stared at their cameras in shock. Almost to a man, they were angered at having failed to capture the most significant event of modern times. Not one was brave enough to curse.
One of the people remaining in the square was the bodyguard of Imam Abdel-Malik. Stunned by what he had observed, he stumbled over to the empty wheelchair. There was no sign of the four men who had sacrificed themselves in that place. He fell to his knees with tears in his eyes. Staring at the Western Wall, he shouted, "You are correctly named the Wailing Wall, for nothing on Earth could watch this without crying tears for the four good men who died here."
Several of the cameramen were quick enough to have captured the bodyguard's actions. It took several minutes for the reporters to recover enough to step in front of their cameras and start describing what they had witnessed. Even though they had been there, it was impossible to believe what had happened. They had seen the hands of Gods come down and punish those who had killed their messengers.
Another man, a big black man with a horrible gash across his face, was wandering around the square looking confused. George, the bodyguard for Reverend Leroy Jones, had tried to fight his way to the front of the mob to protect the Reverend. Even as he fought, he knew that he was too late. Now, he was looking for body of the man whom he had served since the day he had touched the wooden cross hanging around the Reverend's neck. Devastated, he could find no sign of the Reverend's body.
Appearing from a nearby building, four Druids made their way into the square. They broke into two pairs; with each pair containing a heavily armed red robed Druid and a green robed Druid. The two pairs split to attend to a bodyguard each. They had expected to have to fight their way to the bodyguards, but events had turned out quite differently. Oscar had not warned them of that possibility.
Upon reaching George, the green robed Druid said, "Come with us. Oscar has made arrangements for you to return home."
George looked at the pair of men and, with tears streaming down his cheeks, asked, "How can I return home? My place was beside the Reverend. Now I have nothing."
"Oscar said that even though he has joined his God, Reverend Leroy Jones has need of you still. He needs you to tell his story to all that will listen. He needs you to defend him from those who will claim that he was a charlatan."
Lower lip quivering, tears rolling from his eyes, and knees about to give out from under him, George asked, "Oscar said all that?"
"Yes sir. Now come with us," the man said offering a hand to steady the big man. A similar conversation was coming to the same conclusion a few feet over with the bodyguard of Imam Abdel- Malik.
As the pair of men left the square, the bodyguard of Imam Abdel- Malik said, "Even facing death, Oscar thought of us."
"There were so many more important things for him to worry about," George said.
Debbie and Georgia had collapsed immediately after Oscar had disappeared. Gabriel and Remiel carried the two unconscious women onto the jet. Once they had deposited them in their seats, Raphiel went to the pilot and said, "Get us out of here, now."
"Yes, sir," the pilot said grabbing the radio microphone to get clearance to take off. The flight plan had been filed since the day they had landed and had been updated every morning.
Jennifer sat down beside her sister and fastened the seatbelt around her. Looking over at the bodyguards, she said, "They are in shock. When we get off the ground, we need to take care of that."
"We should take care of that now," Remiel said.
"No, we get out of here and then take care of them. The whole city is in shock. Once it recovers, they might keep us here while they are trying to figure out what happened," Jennifer said.
"Yes, ma'am," Remiel said looking over at Debbie with concern. She didn't look too good. Although the bodyguards had worked for William, they had taken their orders from Jennifer. He would do as she ordered.
The bodyguards, as a group, had talked to Oscar exactly once the entire time they had been working for William. Each of them was stunned by what they had witnessed. Looking around the plane, they were amazed at the planning that had gone into taking care of the two women. They had known that Oscar believed that he was going to die, but their knowledge was a kind of abstract unreal thing. What they had seen made it all too real.
Uriel looked over at the two green robed Druids seated in the plane. She asked, "Who are you?"
"I'm Nancy and she's Kim. We are the grief counselors that you were told would be aboard the plane," one of them answered. She looked over at the women and knew that it would be a long time before they were ready to talk. Until that time, she would wait and watch.
Debbie and Georgia didn't regain consciousness until long after the plane left the ground. They looked at each other and then burst into tears at their shared loss. They cried for most of the flight to Bermuda. Neither of them would ever remember how they reached the hotel room where they would stay for the next few days.
A well dressed reporter sat in a small bar in a small town in the middle of Bulgaria holding a glass of wine in one hand. He had watched the events in Jerusalem unfold on live television. Tears had streamed down his face when he saw the rocks being thrown at Oscar. Everyone in the bar had stared in disbelief at the sudden outbreak of violence, the interrupted transmission, and then the scene of quiet that had followed.
The reporter looked down at the table and picked up the picture he had placed there earlier. The picture was of Oscar Meyers standing in front of a sign. He was wearing his robe and cloak while holding his shepherd's staff. Winking at the camera with one eye, Oscar held out a hand with a thumb up in the well known gesture of approval. The picture and the interview that had accompanied it had made the reporter a very well known individual.
The reporter reverently placed the picture on the table. He traced
the scar on his forehead with a finger. He fingered the small gold
cross that hung from a gold chain around his neck. Lifting his wine
glass in the air, the reporter said, "Not everyone can be born of
stature, grace, and greatness. Some must grow into it. Here's to you,
Oscar Meyers!"