Rick Mofina - If Angels Fall

Keller stopped cold. Reed looked at Martin for a cue.She shrugged. Lois Jensen and Angela Donner were sniffling.

“What happened?”

“It hit us hard. Rain, thunder, violent winds, wildswells cresting at seven, maybe eight feet. We were tossed like a toy. A whalecame up under us a split the hull. We took on water. I failed to get the lifejackets on the children. We ended up in the ocean. Stay near me, I told them.It was impossible. They drowned calling for me. I survived. They never foundtheir bodies. My wife blamed me and left me shortly after.”

Keller stared at Reed. “It was God’s will. I was beingpunished.”

“For what.”

“Living a lie.”

“You believe this is the reason your childrendrowned?”

“I know it’s the reason.”

“I see. What do you mean by that-you were living alie?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

Reed said nothing.

“What my valiant brothers and sisters here have triedto convey tonight is the universal truth that when your child dies, you die,too. You become something else.”

Reed waited for the religious kicker.

“When my children died, I died, but I was born again.”

Bingo.

“I didn’t realize at the time. It was a very slowprocess. It was an awakening followed by a revelation.”

“Tell me about it.”

Keller’s eyes went to Martin, then to Reed.

“With all due respect to the professor’s fine work,she has only touched the surface. The truth is that if a parent comes to terms,accepts their child’s death, they are destroyed. They have lost.”

“You’ve got all the answers, don’t you?” Keller said.

Martin intervened. “Edward. Edward. Please. Tom’s ourguest.”

“I know why he’s here.” Keller stood

“Mr. Keller, I apologize if my being here upsets you.”

“I think I’ve said enough.” Keller headed for thedoor.

“Edward, please, don’t leave,” Martin pleaded.

“Good night, everyone,” Keller said over his shoulderas he left.

“I feared this would happen.” Martin was deflated.“I’m sorry he reacted to your presence the way he did, Tom, Henry.”

They waived it off.

“If no one minds, I’d like to end the session. It’sbeen memorable,” Martin said. “Thanks, everyone. And thanks Tom and Henry. Welook forward to the article.”

“Thank you,” Reed said.

As group members collected jackets and tidied up,Martin took Reed aside. She was concerned about Keller.

“It was a disaster with Edward. Is he going to be inthe story?”

“I don’t know.”

“I should have prevented him from talking.”

“Why?”

“The anniversary of the drownings is coming up.”

She smiled across the room at Angela, waiting in thechair, twisting her hair. “That, along with Christmas and birthdays, is anextremely bad time.”

“No promises. His words were on the record, but I’llkeep this in mind, okay?”

“Okay.”

Reed approached Angela. “Thanks for waiting,” he said

Keller returned to his house in Wintergreen Heights, deactivated the alarm,unlocked the locks, went to his bedroom, took the silver crucifix from thenightstand, and slipped it around his neck. In the living the room, from thecluttered worktable, he removed a huge worn Bible. It was two centuries old.The pastors at his children’s memorial service had given it to him.

“God’s love never dies. Accept it and your childrenshall always be with you.”

He plopped in his rocking chair, Bible on his lap, andread. Reflecting on his clash with Tom Reed. The fool. Mocking his revelation.But it didn’t matter. He had succeeded in battle. Passed another test, abidedin the Lord, and emerged triumphant. It was the Will of the Creator.

Not the Reverend Theodore Keller’s version, but Thetrue Divine Will revealed in the purifying flames of his burning church. Godhad pulled back the curtain of Edward’s destiny that night, whisperingrevelations in his young ears.

His father’s congregation couldn’t afford to rebuild,forcing the Reverend to move down the highway and down in stature to a smallerCalifornia town where they existed on handouts from the faithful. It washumiliating for Edward, going to school, knowing the clothes he wore and thelunch he brought were not provided by God, but by farmers, merchants,widows-the parents of his classmates.

Edward’s loathing for his father festered and he vowednot to follow his impoverished, sanctimonious life. At seventeen, he discardedhis parents, and up and left. He hitchhiked to San Francisco and he put himselfthrough collage, working nights at a bookstore, weekends at a contracting firmin North Beach. He studied philosophy and business, graduating near the top ofhis class, not knowing what he would do with his life.

One day he returned to the overgrown site of hisfather’s razed church. Amid the weed-entombed foundation, he realized hisambition. He would build churches. Many of California’s churches were aging. Amarket existed.

Keller obtained a loan and was soon offering poorparishes new churches with long-term payment plans. His pitches wereattractive. His knowledge of theology, philosophy, and his son- of-a-preacherapproach ingratiated him with church leaders.

It also captivated Joan Webster, the only daughter ofa minister in Philo. She astounded him, distracting him during his firstmeeting with Reverend Webster. She possessed a celibate air of fresh-scrubbedwholesomeness. He wanted to be with her. He gave her father a ridiculously gooddeal and personally supervised the construction of the new church so he couldbe near her.

Joan thought he was intelligent, handsome, unlike anyof the local young men. He was a builder, a dreamer who could sweep her awayfrom dusty old Philo to the lights of San Francisco.

They courted for a year, then married and moved to abungalow in Oakland. Joan was loving, fulfilling her role as duty-bound wifeand mother, bearing them Pierce, Alisha, and Joshua.

Keller’s business flourished, becoming one of thestate’s largest church-building firms. They bought a huge Victorian in SanFrancisco with a postcard view of the Golden Gate bridge. There, they livedbehind a deteriorating veneer of happiness. Keller preoccupied himself withmaking money, renegotiating contracts, making most congregations beholden tohim for decades. He was addicted to the power. His passion for his businessovershadowed his love for his family.

Whenever Joan tried talking to him, he stifled herwith a Biblical proverb. As time passed, she urged him to take one of thechildren with him on business trips. He rejected the idea. They would be in theway. Jeopardize a contract. Their discussions evolved into prolonged,late-night arguments, with Joan insisting he spend more time with the children,or there was no point in maintaining the facade of family. She would leave him.

Resentfully, Keller acquiesced.

One at a time, he took the children on business trips,but he was so stern with their conduct that they dreaded going with him. Joanknew he was uncomfortable having the children with him, but she believed shewas rescuing her family from disaster. Clinging to the hope he was a lovingfather imprisoned by his work, she suggested he spend a day alone with thechildren, away from business. Renting a boat to go bird watching and picnickingat the Farallons would be a memorable outing.

That weekend, he loaded Peirce, Alisha, and Joshuainto the Cadillac and drove down the peninsula to half moon bay.

Keller rocked in his chair, Bible in his lap, strokinghis beard.

Squeak-creak. Squeak-creak.

That weekend.

His children. The storm. The whale. Sinking. Darknessswallowing the children. His children.