Chapter 47

“Do you accept a higher power?” chanted a man from a raised pulpit in front of a large cathedral. The question echoed from the vaulted ceiling through the ornately decorated wooden walls and down to the marble floors.
The congregation seated in wooden pews filling the length of the massive room responded with a mechanical ‘amen’ in staggered unison.
“Offer your prayers to that power now in this moment of silence,” bellowed the lector.
As the congregation bowed their heads Witticker became immediately visible in the crowd through his ignorance of the ritual. He panned from side to side, marveling at the massive audience all bowed down in collective mumbling. Suddenly he felt a sharp jab in his left side.
“Put your head down,” hissed Edward from his bowed position.
A cacophony of ‘Shh!’ echoed around the two men as Witticker quickly bent his head to the pew in front of him. He enjoyed the cool wood on his forehead as he carefully balanced himself against it. He closed his eyes and took in the silence of the room as his mind wandered to the events preceding their arrival at the church.

*~~*

Two hours earlier…

11:30 A.M. – Witticker and Edward exit a train in the borough of Brooklyn.

11:40 A.M. – The wave of arriving travelers are herded three miles from the train station to the nearest distrip, Braganza Plaza, in the borough of Queens.

12:30 P.M. – Upon arrival at Braganza Plaza the travelers disperse in several different directions.

12:45 P.M. – A bell rings in the plaza.

12:46 P.M. –Witticker, unaware of the custom of the area, is swept up into a crowd entering the Great Cathedral.

12:52 P.M. – Edward finds Witticker in the cathedral.

1:00 P.M. – The service begins.

*~~*

The silence in the room was broken by an explosion of sound from the organ in the front of the cathedral. Its sound, while emanating from the front, seemed to encompass the whole room. The congregation rose and sang in unison.

This God, in prayer and song,
Will pardon any slight or wrong
Committed by ourselves in word or deed.
We only need to ask and God will feed.

Our lives, in sin and pain,
Are only trod and toiled in vain
Unless we come to God with prayerful need.
We only need to ask and God will feed.

We fear not death or dark
For on us God hath placed his mark.
A sign unseen, but through our souls are freed.
We only need to ask and God will feed.

As the congregation sang each verse became louder and more emphatic than the one preceding. The hymn finished with an extended organ finale followed by several shouts of indecipherable, but fully convicted, words of praise from the worshippers. As the people slowly fell to their pews Witticker turned to Edward.
“What is going on? Where are we?”
“Just shut up,” whispered Edward keeping his face towards the front of the cathedral. “Shut up and keep your face to the front. This is not the time.”
Witticker leaned closer to respond, but thought better of it and sat back facing the front. He reasoned that Edward had been well-versed in the local customs thus far and it would be more than presumptuous to assume he was wrong in this circumstance.
As he began to listen he noticed that the lector had been replaced by a very tall and skinny man draped in black and green robes. His voice was remarkably low and rumbled through the cathedral as if funneled through a large megaphone. The priest-like figure began his speech by chanting in a monotone drawl, occasionally rising or dropping in pitch. Witticker, having missed the beginning of the chant, came in at the end.
“God, Father and Mother of these people, shed your light upon them and their troubles. God, Savior of our race, grant us peace through prayer and belief. Amen.”
The priest drew a large silver pitcher from the pulpit and poured a glass of water for himself. He took a long drink and after placed the glass on one of the pulpit’s many horizontal resting places.
“God saved us,” said the priest, pausing a moment for effect, “God saved us and continues to save us every day that we are not swept up from this land by the many savage and horrible devices of this world.”
“But,” shouted the priest, prompting the congregation to jump and shuffle in their seats, “will God continue to offer this saving grace? Is there any guarantee of remaining in God’s favor? Consider the beach tree. It does not fear the wrath of God and does not change its behavior to garner God’s good will, even in the longest of droughts. It is a solid and stoic representation of what we should all strive to be. Unmoved by the conditions or state of affairs that might plague us. Untouched by the forces that would seek to ruin us. Unchanged,” roared the priest, crashing his hand down on the pulpit and, subsequently, sending his glass of water hurling to the floor, “by the forces of this world that would seek to alter our way of life.”
He emphasized his final words with an even deeper and darker tone than before, letting the idea hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
“If you believe, like me, that this philosophy, this blessed ethos, is one that you want for your own then I urge you, take up this beach tree, brothers and sisters. Remain solid and true. Stay with the flock. Keep to your ways as you have in the past. Be kind to your neighbor and consistent in your dealings remembering that consistency is the truest sign of honesty. There is no cause to change your ways, just your inner attitude and outlook.”
Water dribbled from the broken glass next to the priest. It ran across the floor of the wooden podium, dripping down to the marble floor below.
“God wants you to be happy. God provides for those who want to be happy. We must remember that we are the catalysts! Were you happy before? Were you happy during the wars? Were you happy when food ran dry and fires rained down?”
The priest pointed into the audience.
“You, Abby Fordice, were you happy when your son was lost on the front line in Illinois? Or you, Jacob Ballanger, were you happy when your wife was slaughtered by a crowd in Cobble Hill? How about you, Rachel Persinger? Were you at all happy when they took the only man you ever loved and shot him in the forehead in this very square?”
“No! That’s not happiness! That’s not happiness and that’s not God’s doing! God want you to be happy! It was not God that brought the war and it was not God that took all those things from you. It was the work of evil men. Despicable minds with filth ridden causes and, what’s more, their work isn’t through. There are still people who would ask you to rise up. To throw away everything you’ve worked for and to toss aside the happiness that God has bestowed upon you.”
The priest reached inside his robe and produced a bright white handkerchief, wiping his brow which had become exceedingly damp through the course of his sermon.
“What can these people give you that you don’t already have? What are you in want of that isn’t being supplied? God is already filling you up with everything you need! There is no cause to fight for! There is no wrong to be made right! We are content because God is content with us and anybody who says otherwise is as empty as their words!”
The priest replaced the handkerchief within his robes.
“God wants you to be happy. It’s as simple as it sounds. Amen.”

*~~*

After the service had concluded the congregation poured out of the church into the open square. The plaza was circular and centered on a large plaster fountain with several menacing mermen lifting their tridents toward the large cathedral at the far end. The newly released mass of worshipers lingered, making polite and empty conversation. The crowd slowly drifted away until just Edward and Witticker sat next to the plaster fountain. Edward smiled up at the mermen, recalling the music hall so far away from them now.
“What exactly was that?” asked Witticker as he stared at the church towering above the plaza.
“You just experienced a service of the congregation of God,” responded Edward, “and, while I appreciate your inclination to ask questions when you don’t understand something, I’d like to remind you again that we are still being hunted. It might be our best bet to remain, for the time being, part of the crowd, so to speak.”
“What are you talking about? Those people aren’t after us. They don’t even know who we are! Besides, I was barely noticeable. You were the one talking and getting ‘shh’ed from every direction.”
By this time Witticker had stood up from the fountain and was pacing back and forth over the uneven street top. Edward reclined on the fountain edge, running his fingertips against the surface of the cool water.
“You’re a very stressful person to keep company with,” muttered Edward from his meditative state. “Your body language communicates a load of tension. Sit down and relax. I’ll explain a few things and then we can have a more informed conversation.”

*~~*

Selected excerpts from a lecture delivered in 2205 by Ronald Talcum, a specialist in religious history working in the New York Public Library.

“…The Great Decline not only took a massive toll on the physical and socioeconomic living conditions of the period, but also exercised a great overhaul on the emotional and spiritual principles of that time…”

“…The churches of the past, their roots invested in a corporate world, disintegrated into varying levels of chaos during the failing of businesses nationwide. A large majority of the population, hungry and homeless, looked to the church for help. Over time the need became too great and the church was forced to turn the crowds away…”

“…For several decades the public opinion of the church was recorded as an attitude of distrust and anger. The idea of religion in an organized fashion or manner gradually diminished and was eventually forgotten by all but a handful…”

“…In the late 2150s small congregations suddenly began meeting in distrips across the country for services led by members claiming to be the last ordained priests. These priests held none of their congregation accountable with offerings or attendance and preached on a wide variety of subjects from current affairs to spiritual obligation…”

“…The church has since redefined itself in the general population. No longer structured or operated as a corporation (i.e. taking donation, providing community service), the church now identifies itself solely as a lifeline of religious philosophy…”

*~~*

“So,” explained Edward, “the church currently has a foothold in nearly every distrip on the northern continent. Their congregations are a small percentage of the overall population, but their attendants are a pivotal sect of society. The church appeals primarily to shop owners and merchants due to its proximity.”
“Okay,” responded Witticker unenthusiastically, now sitting on the ground next to the fountain.
“Okay?” queried Edward, “not at all. There are too many unanswered questions. Too many holes in the framework. No one knows where the priests are coming from. It’s very dangerous to disregard the spiritual leaders of the population’s only economic instigators. What if the church decides that the trade of merchant craft is in opposition to its ‘holy work’? Half the nation starves over religious fundamentals.”
“But that wouldn’t happen,” argued Witticker. “The people wouldn’t just die. They would either find another way or revolt against the church.”
“Were you in the same service I was just in?” cried Edward, pulling out a cigarette from inside his robe. “People aren’t making decisions for themselves anymore. The whole message of the church is to maintain the status quo. To do what is expected of you and remain predictable, like the ‘beach tree’. They preach uniformity and fear. Those people do exactly as they’re told because the ones up in front put God on the other end of it. It’s a crock. They’re making complacency into a religion. Don’t think or you’ll go to hell!”
Witticker shook his head and looked to the dirt at his feet. Edward lit his cigarette as the sun banked across the plaza on its descent from the sky.
“The people aren’t stupid,” said Edward, putting his hand above his eyes for shade, “they’ve just forgotten how to think independently of the group.”
Neither man moved for several minutes as the sun crept lower towards the horizon, spreading the rays even wider across the expanse of the plaza.
“In any case,” forwarded Edward, “it's time we find a place to stay tonight. If we’re where I think we are I have an idea of where we can go next. Are you ready to move again?”
Witticker looked back at the church towering high above the plaza floor.
“Yes,” answered Witticker hesitantly, “and I’m sorry for arguing with you before. I guess I’m not as ready for this world as I thought.
Edward laughed and pulled Witticker up from his spot on the ground.
“No one is. But don’t take my word for it. That’s the problem they have in there. The world is truly what you make of it. For better or for worse.”
Edward tossed his cigarette to the ground, grinding it out with his heel.
“Now, if only everyone else knew that. That’s the trick.”