Outside Eden (13 page)

Harper thanked him and the guard, and started back to the bungalow. The whole way home, she kept replaying Lynne’s uninhibited moans as she clutched Ramsey Travis. Why, in the midst of a passionate embrace, would Lynne and Travis be concerned with a Jewish holy day? And why would they care that it fell on July twenty-sixth?

The next morning, Harper studied Lynne for signs of her affair. She looked for feigned cheeriness, for fatigue. For glances that wandered toward the pastor. For shifting eyes and guarded conversation. But she found nothing; Lynne was her usual chatty self. She walked to their section arm in arm with Peter, gave him a smooch when they separated. Seemed completely open and innocent with her freckled tan and wide blue eyes.

Harper told herself it was none of her business. If Lynne wanted to cheat on her husband, even with the pastor who had counseled them, it was entirely Lynne’s decision. Hell, she’d only met these people three days ago; what did she care what they did? Maybe the entire church believed in open marriage. Maybe they were all sleeping with each other. Maybe Peter knew and didn’t care. Maybe Peter was also having sex with him. It wasn’t her problem. She should just butt out.

‘So. Have a nice night last night?’ She emptied dirt into a bucket and watched Lynne’s reaction, which was none.

‘I did. You?’

Harper made her voice casual. ‘I couldn’t sleep. So I went for a walk at about . . .’ What time had it been? ‘About midnight.’

Lynne looked up, frowning. ‘What kept you up? The baby?’

‘No, she was sleeping.’

‘Oh, I bet I know why you were up. You miss your hubby.’

Her ‘hubby’?

‘Well, here’s what I would do. Have a little drinkie. Some wine right before bed.’

‘Good idea. You’re right – I don’t like sleeping without Hank.’ Maybe if she revealed things about her marriage, Lynne would reciprocate.

In fact, Lynne nodded. ‘I know what you mean.’

Harper stopped listening, stuck her trowel into the dirt. Thought of another approach. ‘You know what? My bungalow is right next to your pastor’s.’

‘Yeah?’ If she was worried that Harper might have seen her, Lynne didn’t let on. ‘Nice location. Ours is down the hill – closer to the restaurant.’ She reached for a screen. ‘Think anyone’ll find anything today?’

Harper adjusted her hat. There had to be a way to make Lynne reveal something. Maybe just getting her to talk about Travis? ‘So I was thinking about what you said about your pastor. That he could see people’s souls . . .’

‘Yeah, he’s amazing.’ Lynne sifted dirt, smeared some on her forehead as she wiped away sweat. ‘He understands people. What’s inside them. What each one is capable of. He’s truly a man of God.’ Lynne’s face glowed as if reflecting holy light.

‘So is he married?’ Harper watched Lynne’s face for a blush. A tightened jaw. A twitch.

But all Lynne did was smile. ‘Oh, you bet. Ramsey Travis is married to his church.’

Of course he was. A complete saint. And he had Lynne brainwashed. She apparently felt no guilt or conflict about canoodling with Pastor Travis; he’d probably convinced her that having sex with him was a way of serving God. Still, Harper wanted to hear more.

‘So what’s he learned from those codes?’

‘Oh.’ Lynne took a drink from her water bottle. She waved to Lowell a few sections over. ‘Hey, Lowell. When you dig to China, you can stop.’

‘Got my chopsticks ready,’ Lowell called back.

‘What exactly did you want to know?’

‘I don’t know. Just some more examples.’

Lynne shook dirt off her trowel and beamed at Harper. ‘I’m so glad you asked. Really. I have a feeling about you. I mean it. Ever since we met, I’ve sensed that you should join us. So, let me tell you about Pastor’s discoveries. Of course, there are too many examples to give right here and now. What have I already told you? About Yitzhak Rabin? And also the first Gulf War. Okay. Here’s another one.’

While they dug, Lynne told Harper about Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu’s near assassination. The codes had said that it was supposed to have occurred in Amman in July, 1996, and that his death was to have triggered an atomic war.

‘Obviously, it didn’t happen.’ Lynne sat on a bucket to take a break. ‘But here’s the thing: Netanyahu was
scheduled
to go to Amman in July of ’96 to meet with King Hussein. Check if you want – it’s historical fact. At the last minute, Hussein canceled. So the assassination never happened; the war never got triggered.’

‘You’re going to tell me that Hussein canceled because God wanted him to?’

‘I am. God’s decision to change His plan is written in the code. In fact, I know some of the exact words. The code specifically says, “Bibi”, his actual name. And “July to Amman”. Then it says “murdered”, and “his soul was cut off”, and “death”, along with the date, “the ninth of Av, 5756” and the question: “Will you change it?” And then it gives the answer: “Delayed.”’

Wait. ‘Did you say the ninth of Av?’

‘That’s the date given in the code. It’s a holy day marking the destruction of the First and Second Jewish Temples. And it’s also the date the final war was supposed to begin. But God delayed it. In fact, Netanyahu went in August instead, so he wasn’t killed and the war was avoided. At least, that time.’

Harper removed her work gloves, closed her eyes, rubbed them. None of this made sense. Lynne looked like a damned cheerleader, had a Midwestern accent and freckles, wore a Cubs hat. And she discussed atomic wars and the end of the world as easily and breezily as she might a backyard barbecue.

‘I know. It’s mind-boggling. You should talk to Pastor Travis. He’ll give you more examples. But the most amazing part is that all the codes were written thousands of years ago. Like I told you, God wrote history backwards, telling what was to come. But He left Himself choices. He gave several dates when conflagrations could begin. But so far, for every conflagration date, there’s been a code that says, “I will delay the war”, or “I changed it”. It’s amazing, isn’t it? And Pastor has deciphered it.’

Harper’s mind was still fixed on the ninth of Av. July twenty-sixth was just three days away. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the pastor had planned the trip to include that date. ‘So do all the codes have to do with destruction? With, you know, the end . . .’

‘The End of Days? Good question. I don’t really know the answer. All I know is that Pastor Travis wants us to prepare. So far, the conflagrations have been postponed. They were written to occur in 1996, 2006, and again in 2010 – I’m sure there are other dates, too. All of those were “Delayed”. But the codes also indicate the date when all God’s delaying will end and the conflagration will actually begin. Pastor Travis knows when that is. He says it will be soon. And when the date arrives, the action will start right here, in Megiddo.’

Oh God. The pastor had brought his followers there for Armageddon – the end of the world. Ramsey Travis believed it would start right where they were digging, in three days, on July twenty-sixth. The ninth of Av.

Harper had to know for sure. ‘So that’s why you’re here. For the action?’ She thought again of Jim Jones and his suicidal followers.

Lynne didn’t answer. She might have, but from across the site, Josh shouted from section nine, ‘Dr Hadar! Dr Ben Haim!’

Volunteers ran toward the voice, a bell rang, and people hollered and hooted.

Harper was on her feet, hurrying toward the commotion before she realized what had happened: Josh and his partner had uncovered something.

It was a wall. A row of large square stones.

The excitement was palpable. Dr Hadar gathered everyone together, passed out cups of wine, led a prayer and made a toast to the discovery. The rest of the afternoon was spent gently brushing away dirt, clearing off the surface of the wall, and removing earth around it to reveal more of the structure. Harper and Lynne were able to join Dr Ben Haim’s students in the effort, clearing earth from the wall and sifting for shards or other relics.

Harper became immersed in the work. Her hands almost shook as she brushed off the wall. She imagined the people who’d used this building – what had it been? Clearly, it had been a place worthy of solid construction, surviving as a structure for almost two millennia.

Dr Ben Haim and Dr Hadar were involved in the process, supervising the volunteers, conferring with students, consulting computer programs. Harper didn’t notice the heat or the time; didn’t think about anything but the dig until, abruptly, the work day ended, and she was on the bus with the others, heading back to the kibbutz.

Even then, her thoughts remained fixed on the discovery and the promise of the site. But when she saw Ramsey Travis lean across the aisle to whisper into Lynne’s ear, images of antiquities were replaced by those of the night before: Lynne clutching the pastor, kissing him desperately. Assuring him, ‘I’ll do it.’

Do what?

And Travis reminding her, ‘The ninth is the twenty-sixth.’

He’d meant the ninth of Av. The date on which Jews mourned destruction. And the date on which, according to Travis, God had scheduled, postponed and rescheduled a conflagration to begin the end of days, right there in Megiddo.

The ninth of Av would fall on July twenty-sixth.

Harper watched Travis sit back in his seat. He wasn’t doing anything remarkable, was just relaxing, looking out the window. Even so, there was something intangibly menacing, something too self-assured about him. Harper was absolutely sure: Travis was preparing for the End of Days to happen in just three days, on July twenty-sixth. But she had no idea what he intended to do.

Travis dozed, one arm hanging into the aisle. He didn’t look much like a man preparing for the end of the world.

Maybe she was mistaken. Like Dr Ben Haim had said, end-of-the-world cults popped up in Israel frequently. Most were harmless. Travis probably had a big feast planned, or an all-night prayer vigil. Nothing more.

The bus rumbled on. Harper studied Travis as if somehow she’d be able to see his thoughts, but all she saw was his receding ginger hairline. She sat sideways to see him better. Her mind rattled phrases, repeating them in an endless loop. ‘The ninth is the twenty-sixth.’ ‘I’ll do it.’ ‘Armageddon is Har Meggido.’ ‘Gog and Magog.’ ‘Will you delay it?’ ‘The ninth is the twenty-sixth.’

She rubbed her temples, turned to look out the window at the lush, hilly countryside and was reassured by its stillness. How ridiculous she was, reacting so seriously. She needed to get a grip, enjoy her time in Israel. The land was calm; the sun was bright. Nothing was going to happen in three days – certainly not the end of the world.

By the time she got off the bus, though, her wariness had grown. The stillness of the hills seemed not peaceful but ominous. The sunshine was too stark. She started for the nursery, but stopped. She should talk to Dr Ben Haim again. Or Dr Hadar. Should let them know about the pastor’s specific focus on the ninth of Av. Just in case. Maybe they would be at the kibbutz office. She stopped there, didn’t see them.

A young, pregnant woman whose nametag said ‘Noa’ was working at the desk. ‘They aren’t back yet.’

Harper bit her lip. Of course they weren’t back. Not after their first major find today. They’d probably stay at the site until nightfall.

‘It’s an emergency?’ Noa watched Harper. ‘I can reach them if it’s urgent.’

Was it? Harper wasn’t sure. But probably the dig leaders wouldn’t think it was. In fact, they’d be annoyed at the interruption – Dr Ben Haim had already told her to forget about the church group. And he’d be more than a little irritated if she bothered him again with another far-fetched warning about the End of Days.

The woman was watching her, waiting for a reply.

Harper took a breath. ‘No, thank you. It’s not urgent.’

July twenty-sixth was, after all, three whole days away, and she had nothing concrete to present. She stepped out of the office into the harsh, glaring light. Stopped. Went back in and wrote the same note to both dig leaders, asking each to contact her when they had a moment. She reread the message, thought it sounded too casual. Threw it out. Rewrote it, adding a congratulatory opening about the find, then saying that she had something unrelated that she needed to discuss. Fine. It even sounded somewhat professional.

On her way to the nursery, Harper squinted. Even with sunglasses, the angle, the brightness felt wrong. The sun seemed intense, almost hostile. She took a breath. Made herself slow down. What was wrong with her? There was no problem with the sun or the light; the problem was with her – her unease about Pastor Travis. She needed to stop. To pretend that she didn’t know anything about them or their codes; that she wasn’t disturbed by Travis’s calm, self-assurance, his booming voice and blindly adoring followers.

But she couldn’t. She had to know: who was Ramsey Travis? What about him drew such loyalty? Where had he come from? Was he really a scholar? With all the excitement at the dig, she’d completely forgotten to use the computers there and look him up. And now that a structure had been uncovered, the computers would be in constant use. Maybe she’d talk to Hank, ask him to do some research. Because the twenty-sixth was coming . . .

In fact, what was she thinking? Why didn’t she just take Chloe and leave? Not risk being around for Travis’s version of the Apocalypse, whatever it was.

She approached the nursery, deciding that, yes, they would leave. Nothing was worth endangering Chloe. At the gate, she heard the children singing. Not the ‘mayim’ song. This one had ‘Shalom’ in it – finally, a word she understood. It meant goodbye, hello, and peace. She walked into the cottage, nearly tripping on a cat, and stood at the door. The children were sitting in a circle, their faces earnest, their voices sweet. Harper looked at them, one by one. Among them, she spotted the little boy who’d played with Chloe in the swimming pool. Adi’s son, Ari. A little girl with pigtails who was holding Chloe’s hand. And Chloe, who was trying in vain to sing the words like the older children. Their voices flowed lighter than air, and their little bodies swayed side to side with the beat, together, as one.

No. Harper couldn’t take Chloe and run. Couldn’t take off and leave the other children unprotected.