RAPHAEL HAD WATCHED Puah leave the courtyard and walk down the hill toward her house, and that was it. The last time. The need to simply be with her was strong, especially now, in these last hours. Raphael had, however, built a healthy measure of discipline by avoiding these emotional whims, so he stayed near the window, waiting for the feeling to pass. Behind him on the bed was a dingy knapsack loaded with clothes and other belongings, and the thought crossed his mind—the suddenness, the finality. Then he wondered why he’d even packed it.
A strange sense of nostalgia beckoned him to its deceiving abode, tempting him with fond sentiments of memories that had never happened, of romantic evenings that had never been kindled. It was a false warmth, he knew. This town had been a den of debauchery and the cradle of his condemnation. It was home and he loved Puah, but still, it was time.
“But I’m going to miss you,” he said.
The light smile curled on his face opened into a snigger when he turned his attention to the crowd’s gaiety in the distance. The buzzing of the evening locusts had never been more insistent or irksome. The players in the courtyard were blind to the game they were playing. Raphael could envision the hearty smiles and handshakes and conversations, all false gestures and pretense.
He sighed. Yes, it was time to leave.
***
Waving his hand to the crowd, Cain shook his head with diffidence. The smile was a brilliant lunar crescent radiating his very skin; the eyes were glitter balls in the orange hue of the approaching sunset. He imagined his own appearance through their eyes and he approved. The cheers resounded.
“Thank you, thank you,” he said, still feigning modesty. “Thank you all. This is too much.” He appeared to be searching for words. Seeing them unveil the covered statue, his eyes winced.
“God I wish my husband looked like that,” whispered one of the women.
“I love his smile,” said another.
“It’s his eyes I love,” said still another.
After gloating over his admiration in silence for a time, the commissioner addressed the people.
“Our little establishment has expanded into lands none of you could have ever dreamed of just a short time ago. It has reached far beyond our original measures, far beyond any boundary. We have become one, a single body operated by a single life force. No longer are we separate, dissident members of a whole, no longer do our personal whims trump the good of all. Through unconditional cooperation, we have built a city that is strong and united, ready to reach past that which we have already reached, past that which we all once thought impossible.”
The crowd’s roaring approval was an exclamation point on the first part of his speech. He continued.
“The unseen horizons are no longer impossible horizons. The tyranny of selfishness can only destroy the fabric of who we are, what we are. But now, no longer are we many. No longer do we stand alone as individuals. We know that we can never succumb to selfishness and tend only to our own convictions. We must tolerate our fellow man’s wishes. We must always try never to control destiny when tolerance and humble service are the call.”
Another roar from the crowd was another exclamation point.
“This monument you dedicate to me this evening should represent our collective focus. Set your eyes upon it, good people. I point, not to a mountain, not to a valley, but beyond it. I point to something far beyond anything we have ever dreamed. Those mired in complacency and old, tired traditions say that we cannot progress as a society. They say we cannot explore, that we cannot push the limits and dictate truth for ourselves. But know this: when others of less sophistication crumble beneath the weight of their own conceit, it will be we who survive! We who push forward! We who will stand the test of time!”
There was a roar of approval, the final exclamation point. From the back of the mob, stray shouts began, low in volume at first, but soon organized and unified in a ringing chant. The din spread forward and beyond, inundating the entire crowd. It drummed louder and louder with each turn.
With one rousing speech, his ascent had reached its summit.
The hypnotic spell he seemed to put on everyone had been odd but nonetheless reasonable, considering the handsomeness in both his character and face. His quick ascent to first commissioner had been disturbing, but still, one could have expected it considering the city’s rapid growth and the need for a leader to inspire it. But never in the city’s existence had anyone ever dreamed of this.
Yet when it happened, no one seemed to care. They let it roll off their tongues and through the crowd like an avalanche.
“HAIL THE KING! HAIL THE KING! HAIL THE KING!”
Innocent, reckless words usually end up reckless for the innocent. And eventually for the blind and dumb.
Raphael had always known they were sleeping and blind to their own foolishness. He had always known that something was brewing in the essence of the city, an undertow of a still river. The image had changed to an avalanche in his mind, but the idea was still the same. The town had been bad before, but with the simple arrival of Cain on his horse it had gone beyond redemption. It was like a legion of demons wrapped into one man’s body, and all they could see was his sparkle.
The coronation disturbed Raphael less than it did Puah. He saw her face, even from his cabin, turn white, her hazel eyes pale and lifeless as she sneaked toward her house. Again, he found himself in that vacuum, whirling and groaning into the mind of another. He could feel the ravaging of her mind, the raking screams behind her and within her.
He reached out his hand. She stopped. Peace cooled her mind. A slight breeze whispered across her face, and she looked beautiful. She was just standing there crying, her hair tickling her forehead. Smiling for only a moment, she lifted her head in the direction of her friend’s cabin. He could not touch her but he felt her inside him. The day had been free of his attachment to her, but now, as he looked upon her delicate face, he felt the passion, the love.
Somewhere the voice he had heard at the well that morning beckoned him. His daze was sweet though, and he refused to slight himself of this right, this basic human right to love, a right he had not known since he died of disease at twelve years of age.
He had been the only one to take the time to question the eerie birth increase that coincided with Cain’s arrival. He had been the only one to notice what rifts were raging between husbands and wives. Yet he was the only man charged with a felony—charged with the crime of personal conviction and a belief in the truth. As was normally the case, Raphael had missed the party, but no one had noticed. No one except the enemy now riding toward the woods behind him.
Raphael thought of Cain, his advance, how strange it was that he should dream this very scene just last night in his final night on this Earth. Raphael was drifting through the woods, fighting the stuffy underbrush and stinging reeds. The eastern horizon with a curious young boy was his direction, though not his end. He would find a place soon. It wouldn’t have to be perfect. He wasn’t escaping. He knew the enemy would find him.
It was the end of what he’d been sent to do. He knew what he must let happen, what final sacrifice he must make, for the good of those closest to him. It was the final purging. It was a bittersweet truth, especially since there was still a choice. A low tree shoot slapped him in the face—there was no choice. He smiled at the wink from God and hiked onward, knowing the dark enemy was gaining ground, knowing that in the end, his killing at the hands of Cain was a necessary loss for good.
***Dream Chase is the wholly reimagined version of The Final Chase (out of print, but used ones still circulating) and the author’s preferred version of the story. It is better, and frankly, more readable. Please consider this as you make your purchasing decision.
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