The Unveiling Page 2
At precisely 11:37 p.m., Brussels time, they were finished.
With only 20 percent of the world’s population accounted for thus far, the tally was nowhere near complete. Nevertheless, patterns were starting to form. Anyone who had anything of importance to share with the general assembly was urged to do so.
Almost immediately, a delegate from India stood and slowly made his way to the podium. Beads of sweat were clearly visible on his forehead. Did he know something the others didn’t?
Were they finally getting somewhere? Many wondered...
The slightly overweight, dark-skinned man cleared his throat and, in broken English, began, “Before Saturday’s disappearances, the top five religions in my country were Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, Sikh—which is considered a Hindu sect, and lastly, Buddhism. Hinduism makes up roughly eighty percent of my country’s bountiful population. The Muslim religion accounts for approximately fourteen percent, Christianity two-point-four percent, Sikh religion makes up two percent, and lastly, Buddhism accounts for approximately zero-point-seven percent.”
“I know communications are extremely limited in many places in my country. Even so, we still managed to verify approximately ten percent of our population through our census bureau. This equates to more than one-hundred million people.
“If the update I just received is correct, only those listed as ‘Christians’ are among the missing. Of course, countless bodies have yet to be recovered from plane crashes, fires and explosions. And many are still trapped under collapsed buildings. But everyone whose clothing and personal effects were found without bodies came from those who professed faith in Jesus Christ.”
The Indian delegate looked up from his notebook over thick, bifocal glasses and let his eyes wander the assembly room. He took a deep breath, scratched his head, and resumed in a tone which begged for everyone’s understanding, “Barring computer error, the experts back home feel certain that even at ten percent, whatever struck our planet two days ago has devastated the teenage and adult population of the Christian community of my country, and no other demographic.
“While it’s true that many who proclaim to be Christians are still alive back home, most admitted during interviews that their faith in God was nominal at best and could never compare to the strong faith their departed loved ones had in their Savior, Christ Jesus. Guess you could say their faith was more of a religious status than anything else.”
The man looked out at everyone with deeply troubled eyes. “In conclusion, regardless of religion, we all have lost our precious young children. This cannot be denied. However, except for those who perished as a result of the disappearances in my country, adults and teenagers from all other religious sects were unaffected. Suffice it to say, whatever happened last Saturday, I can confidently say it was Christian in nature, to the extent that the Sikh and Buddhist populations in my country have now surpassed the Christian population.”
At that, he left the podium before anyone could ask questions. You could hear a pin drop inside NATO Headquarters.
President Danforth was astonished. Is the Rapture theory correct after all? If so, it wouldn’t come as a total surprise to him. His daughter and son-in-law were professing Christians in every sense of the word. Ronald and Erica Whittingham were the nicest, most kind-hearted individuals President Danforth had ever known.
If anyone was in Heaven now, it was them. And that went double for his four grandchildren, five including the unborn child. But did Heaven and hell really exist? Or were they merely metaphorical places? Did his loved ones simply cease to function? Had they been vaporized or taken by aliens to some unknown planet?
With zero understanding of all things spiritual, the President had no answers to these most troubling questions. He knew nothing about the afterlife, which meant he was totally clueless about the whereabouts of his mother, who didn’t vanish, but died of a heart attack at Camp David, when the disappearances happened. Were they in two separate places?
The leader of the free world felt like weeping. Just the other day, he was playing catch on the White House South Lawn with his two grandsons, Jared and Shane. They were at that perfect age. It now seemed like eons ago. He wondered if life would ever resemble what it once had. How could it?
The President blinked these vulnerable thoughts away and refocused his attention on the podium. More than 20 delegates from various countries were waiting to be heard.
Had they made the same discovery?
In time, his question was answered in the affirmative.
Each concluded that, to the best of their knowledge, only Christians were among the missing in their countries. This explained why the adult populations of all communist countries, much of Asia, India, Northern Africa, and the Middle East, were largely unaffected—they weren’t Christian nations.
Oddly enough, what wasn’t disclosed was that more teenagers and adults had vanished in China than any other country on the planet; to the tune of nearly 80 million Christians. Chinese officials failed to include this staggering discovery in the final tally.
But China wasn’t the only country to fail from reporting its “true” numbers. Countries where Christians had been imprisoned for their faith in Jesus never bothered mentioning that prison guards in North Korea, Afghanistan, Somalia, Libya, Pakistan, Sudan, Yemen and Iran, to name a few, were shocked upon realizing many had vanished from inside their cells.
Even more telling was that all had professed faith in Christ Jesus. Some had been incarcerated for many years, decades even, for their faith.
Now they were gone…
At any rate, there finally was a trend that could be monitored. It all came down to one’s religion. Geography had absolutely nothing to do with it. The pieces to the puzzle were starting to come together. Everything had to be reconfigured.
The moment the press got wind of this earth-shattering discovery, journalists the world over got busy thoroughly investigating the Christian religion at break-neck speed to validate the claim for themselves. For all intents and purposes, this was the most important news story ever aired in the history of television, even topping last Saturday’s unimaginable mayhem.
What they didn’t know was that a much bigger story would unfold in Brussels, Belgium, come sunrise. It would be so earth-shattering that they would quickly abandon this story and focus all their time and energy on something else.
More precisely, someone else...
3
CHARLES CALLOWAY SAW THE breaking news flash on his TV screen: DISAPPEARANCES CHRISTIAN IN NATURE. He took a break from his reading and listened to the reporter’s last words.
“Though still sketchy, world leaders have just concluded that whatever happened two days ago, it was Christian in nature.”
“What took you so long?” Calloway scoffed, turning the TV off. As far as he was concerned, nothing else helpful would come of the Summit in Brussels. Whenever world leaders got together, it seemed little was ever accomplished.
How much worse now in a planet thrust into total chaos?
Then again, the 42-year-old Florida businessman had no idea what was going on behind the scenes across the Atlantic Ocean, or anything about the man who would soon be made known throughout all the world.
Still stranded at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York City, whenever Calloway wasn’t sharing the Word of God down in the lobby of the aristocratic hotel with anyone who would listen, he was in his hotel suite reading the Scriptures. Whenever he was able to secure a good connection, he searched online hoping to learn all he could about the times in which he was living, from those now gone.
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Though convinced his family was gone, hearing from the top minds on the planet that it was Christian in nature served to rock his world all the more. It was sort of like hearing of the death of a loved one a few days ago and having the funeral now, only in absentia.
If Calloway needed any more proof that his loved ones were among the missing, he hadn’t heard from anyone in any capacity since the disappearances. No phone calls. No emails or text messages. No posts on his wife’s Facebook wall. Nothing.
Had his wife, Monique, still been alive, there would have been constant urgent pleas on Facebook to contact her immediately. As it was, her last post came at 11:59 a.m., two minutes before all hell broke loose, further cementing what he already believed.
She was gone. They were all gone.
Calloway’s knees grew weak. He was already an emotional wreck, had been all day, consumed with thoughts of his family; a family he took for granted. The countless opportunities where he could have, should have, spent more time with them, but didn’t, tore at his insides. The guilt was unbearable.
A lump formed in his throat. “I need to get out of here!”
Calloway threw on his jacket and left the Waldorf-Astoria. He aimlessly walked the near-empty streets of Manhattan looking for a place to eat. Seeing a pizzeria that was actually open, he went inside and ordered two slices of pepperoni. It was so good he ordered a third slice.
Best breakfast I’ve had in a long time! But only his belly was satisfied. The rest of him was still in shambles. Calloway left the pizzeria and strolled along Fifth Avenue to clear his head and burn a few calories. Walking past the many still-closed ritzy stores, it’s like the plate glass windows were suddenly transformed into movie screens of sorts.
Charles stopped dead in his tracks, as images of Monique and his five children stared back at him. It’s as if they were right there alongside him.
He saw his 11-year-old son, CJ, and 10-year-old daughter, Frances, checking their ebony reflections in the window, making sure they still looked hip. They were at that age.
He saw his four-year-old twin girls, Sharneece and Veronica, holding hands as they always did, staring back at him through the glass with innocent eyes.
And he saw his wife, Monique, carrying their two-year-old son, Terrell, smiling at him the way she did when things were good between them. He could almost touch them.
Tears flooded his eyes. At 40 years of age, Monique was a beautiful woman inside and out. Having five children had changed her figure only slightly over the years.
Calloway remained frozen in his tracks. His mind drifted back to when they first moved to Florida eight years ago, a year after his mother, Beatrice, died of liver cancer.
Her death forced him to reevaluate so many things in life. He quickly concluded that he didn’t like the direction his life had taken, and that he needed to make changes, many in fact.
The first was geographical.
When his employer at the time, United Parcel Service (UPS) gave him a transfer to Tampa, Florida, everything was set. At that time, only CJ and Frances were born.
Calloway vividly recalled family members and friends circling the U-Haul truck in Atlanta, as his father, Benson Calloway, prayed for God’s protection and blessing on their new venture.
Included in that prayer circle was fellow stranded Cell-U-Loss International colleague, Santana Jiles. At least I wasn’t the only fake Christian praying that day, Charles thought sarcastically. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were others.
The Calloways arrived in Tampa and signed a lease on a small, two-bedroom apartment. It was all they could afford at the time.
Just as they started unpacking the U-Haul truck, a vicious thunder and lightning storm welcomed them to the neighborhood. It rained so hard they couldn’t see two feet in front of them. When lightning struck close by, baby Frances jumped into her mother’s arms, frightened to the core.
A neighbor out smoking a cigarette saw the fear in the little girl’s eyes. He took a long drag, blew it skyward and said, “Get used to it! Tampa’s the lightning capital of the world!”
Monique replied, “If I knew that before moving here, I’d still be in Georgia!”
Charles was laughing and crying at the same time, reliving this brief moment of his family’s history.
Three years later, Monique was pregnant again. They were expecting twins and needed a bigger place to live. A friend of a friend had a three-bedroom house for rent in Sarasota.
Charles wanted to leave immediately. Monique, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic as her husband was. It wasn’t the money. She knew they could afford the place. The problem was that she’d grown to love the Tampa area, especially the church they attended. She hated the thought of leaving it.
Not only that, Sarasota was yet another hour south of their home state of Georgia. Weren’t they already far enough away? But she also knew how badly her husband wanted to go.
In the end, when UPS once again allowed Charles to transfer his route to Sarasota, Monique submitted to her husband’s wishes.
Three weeks later, the family was packed up and ready to begin a new chapter in their lives, a new adventure.
The rental house in Sarasota was located just off U.S. 41 (also known as Tamiami Trail, because it connected Tampa to Miami). The house itself was a typical Florida-style rancher, built on a quarter-acre of land.
Monique loved that for the first time in her life she had fruit-producing trees in her back yard—two orange trees, a grapefruit tree, a lemon tree, a mango tree and a banana tree.
Though only renting that place, the Calloways were responsible for maintaining the property. Charles saw this was a wonderful way to prepare himself and his family for the responsibilities of owning their own home someday.
Two months after they were moved in, the twins were born—Veronica and Sharneece. That was when Charles was introduced to Cell-U-Loss International. He seized the opportunity and quickly built a successful business for himself and his family.
It suddenly seemed so long ago. Had the Rapture not happened, he’d be back in Florida with his family preparing to host Thanksgiving dinner at their dream house on Siesta Key Beach.
As much as Charles looked forward to having a nice meal with everyone, his main motivation for inviting them was to remind them yet again—with plenty of eye candy on display in his home—of what Cell-U-Loss International could do for them too.
It was enough to choke on now.
Charles Calloway was never more ashamed of himself. Back then, he was 100 percent certain they’d made the right decision by moving to Florida. Now he was unsure.
Then again, moving to the Sunshine State wasn’t the reason he lost his family.
It all came down to his lack of belief in Jesus.
Geography had nothing to do with it.
Calloway couldn’t shake the thought of going back home to face the reality of the situation. One thing was painfully certain: his family wouldn’t be there. Would his house still be standing? Or would it be among the many that had been looted then burned to the ground?
It was a question for which he had no answer...
He called and texted friends from church, and even his next-door neighbor, but had yet to hear back from anyone. He would find out soon enough.
It was too much to absorb. The once confident businessman who’d traveled from Florida to New York to teach success principles to his fellow colleagues collapsed to his knees and started hyperventilating on Fifth Avenue.
“How could You love someone like me,” he cried out to Jesus.
At one point, Calloway’s sobs were so loud that an elderly woman taking her dog for a late morning walk heard his desperate cry. Placing a gloved-hand on
his shoulder, she spoke very softly, “It’ll get better. It’ll take time, but everything will be okay soon.”
Calloway didn’t bother looking up at her. But if he did, the expression on her face would have conveyed to him that her words were meant more for herself than for him.
Charles appreciated her concern, but it didn’t help. The pain in his heart was worse than any physical pain he’d ever felt before. His mind kept torturing him, tormenting him.
Though convinced his sins were forgiven and he was truly saved this time, he couldn’t help but feel worthless, despicable, powerless. He whispered skyward, “Lord, please take away this pain. It hurts real bad. I miss my family so much. I know I deserve to feel this way because of my prior unbelief in You, but if it’s Your Will, take away the pain.”
Charles Calloway picked himself up off the pavement and somehow managed to make it back to the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, a remorseful spirit leading the way. For someone who always prided himself on being in such great shape, he hardly had any strength at all.
Lord, help me get through this day...
4
BRIAN MULROONEY STARED AT the breaking news alert on his cell phone: DISAPPEARANCES CHRISTIAN IN NATURE.
After discussing the possibility with Jacquelyn Swindell—the woman he met at Michigan Stadium whose husband was violently killed after the disappearances—this didn’t come as a total surprise to him. After all, the three people they knew who were among the missing were professing Christians.
Whereas Jacquelyn had known for many years that her brother, Dennis, and sister in law, Michele, were solid Christians, it took reading a letter stuffed inside a Bible that his late friend, Justin Schroeder, left as a Gift for Mulrooney to ever consider him a Christian.
I was supposed to be the Christian, not him! he thought in disgust.
Ironically, what separated the three of them from Brian’s brand of Christianity was that each proclaimed to be born again Christians.