Holy War Jonathan Leist

Frank saw his wife talking with the young girl, answering her questions, even yelling at her it seemed. But he could not hear any words. It looked like they were speaking yet he was sure there was no sound. Maybe he had gone deaf. Maybe they were speaking in a new language, one without sounds. But what was that? Suddenly the air was filled with tremendous sounds, beautiful music of strings and woodwinds and French horns and trombones. This moment, he thought. Right now, the world speaks to me. Frank realized the things around him had slowed down. He watched as a dove took to the air from the tree beside him. The branch bounded up in the air behind the flight of the powerful, majestic creature, stirring leaves onto the ground nearby. Everything around him had nearly stopped. He seemed to be aware of everything, everything all at once. He knew the words they were speaking without hearing them; he knew their thoughts before they did. But they were unimportant, trivial even. That was what it meant to be chosen. Everyday life contained no meaning. The music died down in its place was left a rich, booming voice. The voice of a new religion. Men must not kill. Everything is one. The dove can feel as we can. There was no more room on the back of the receipt. "You really must stop doing that in public," Renee told him, noticing that his face again showed the sign of tears. "Here." She gave him a handkerchief and it fell to his lap. Why must he act like she was not even there? That was what was really frightening. Still Dr. Homes had said that there was nothing wrong with him. Only she knew otherwise. But she would help him get better. If he would not wipe away the tears, she would do it for him. People must not see him like this. The doctors might not be able to help him, but she could. She was his wife, after all. Her love and care was the only thing that could save him from himself. But it was so hard. How can you save a person who does not want to be saved, even more so a person who does not even know he is lost? A person so wrapped up in the world of doves and trees and Gods that he looks at his own wife like he does not recognize her?

She was always treating him like a child. Frank gave his wife a look of disdain as she wiped the tear from his cheek. When had he been crying? She sat beside him on the bench. Her chin began to quiver. She was looking away from him. For some reason she seemed to always be worried about him. But she just did not understand. She could not put things into their proper perspective the way he could. It did not matter to him if people knew what he was doing. It was is not always fair. better if they knew. That was why Jesus had never It always seems to hurt the ones you love the most. married. No one Being chosen is a great prophet and a great husband, one must leave behind the comfort of the family to spread the word. She was not called like he was. If only she could know the things that he knew, then she would not be so upset. When he tried to explain things to her she only got more upset. God is inside us all. Love all the creatures of the earth. Christians are Jews and Jews are Christians. He was writing on the back of the grocery receipt again. "Christians are Jews," it said. She must distract him again. "Frank, aren't the gardens simply lovely this time of year? Frank? Such a lovely day, isn't it?" Finally he put away the envelope and looked around him once more. But things simply must not continue on this way. Surely in time he will come around, learn to smile again. Surely in time he will be happy again, with no more of this nonsense about death and God. They had a wonderful life ahead of them, just them, happy, together, married. They would laugh together at things only they thought were funny, they would have children together and he would be a proud father and teach them a great many things. But there he was, talking to himself again.