The Other Lamb

(Unedited excerpts)

(This book is now scheduled to be released in mid-late 2010)

     The hubbub in the newsroom caused Douglas Morgan to glance over the rim of his glasses, which is when he saw his lead reporter racing through the busy editorial room, toward his office. His reporter’s approach was more animated than usual, so he shifted back in his seat and watched the advancing figure, marveling at his artful terpsichory, as he maneuvered his way through the maelstrom of activity without inflicting harm on himself or others.
     "Douglas!" his slalom-runner shouted, as he ran into the office.
     "Christ, Zach! What’s all the racket about?" Douglas cried.
     The reporter stopped just short of tumbling over his editor’s desk and tried to catch his breath, as he shook the papers in his left hand.
     "It’s here! Right here! They saw him! I told you he came! I told you!
     "Who? Who came?"
     "The other one!"
     Douglas scowled.
     "What the blazes are you talking about?"
     Zach fell back into a chair in front of the desk and rested his hand on his knee, as he held the papers outstretched in his other hand, his smile broadening, as he tried to catch his breath.
     "It’s all here in the AP wire. They saw him! The boy went blind, and then this boy comes to him and in front of his family his sight is returned. Total, conclusive evidence. He’s here!" he cried, as he tossed the papers onto Douglas’s desk."And, he’s described in exactly the same way as the boy in Jerusalem. Exactly!"
     Douglas picked up the papers and began to read. When he finished, he looked up at Zach.
     "Okay, and?" he asked, "You believe this is your boy?"
     Zach’s excitement was barely contained.
   "Yes! Every piece of evidence tells me this is the boy, and he is here! Can you imagine? This is so incredible! This is the most important event since Christ himself was here!"
     Douglas snorted. "Unh, hunh. More statues of Mary bleeding in churches, I’m sure," he said, shaking his head.
     Zach grinned, broadly, as he asked: "You don’t believe it, do you?"
     "Not even for a millisecond," Douglas replied, as he tossed the papers back on the desk, in front of Zach. "Another religious fanatic trying to get free press. They’re just using a boy, this time. Same old game, different players."
     "Someday, Douglas, someday," Zach laughed. "I have shown you my evidence of this boy’s previous sightings, over the years."
     "You have shown me what you think is evidence," Douglas replied, with a grin. "Most of it is hearsay, just like the bible and every other theological book. Not a single fact that can be supported by evidence. All hearsay. And since when did you believe in God, anyway?"
     While pointing at Douglas, Zach looked up at the ceiling and said: "He’s the one behind the desk, so if you do exist, God, please aim carefully."
     "And, I don't know, for sure if God exists, or doesn't," he continued, lowering his head and looking out the window at the skyline of the city. "I just feel like there is something very big about to happen. Very big, and I want to be there when it does."
     "And, I suppose you want to waste our money by going to find this boy for some kind of story?" Douglas asked, his brow furrowed.
     Zach leaned forward, resting his forearm on the edge of the desk.
     "If you send me on this one, I will never ask for anything else, for at least six months. I will even do the Happy Housekeeper column when Miriam goes on vacation," he replied, earnestly.
     "You don’t think Associated Press will give us enough for a story?" Douglas asked.
     "Not the story we should tell, no," he replied.
     "And that story is?"
     Zach paused, before replying:
     "Honestly, Douglas, I don’t yet know. There is something about this that I feel is being missed, that there is something more. But, I haven’t a clue what it is. He is talking to the children first and foremost. There is an important message for them, and we need to know what it is."
     "That a steady diet of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches will rot their teeth?" Douglas asked, wryly.
     Ignoring Douglas’s remark, Zach continued:
     "Wherever he has visited children, they are joyous and happy after, regardless of their circumstances. Even the handicapped children are left in a state of bliss, and when asked what he has said to them, they all say, ‘Love.’ That’s all. Just this one word."



     Cardinal Moreau followed the Swiss guardsman down the long hallway, to Bishop Elmore’s private chambers, where a uniformed Swiss guard was posted at the door. He was well aware of the magnitude of the task in front of him, and he was ready to do what was necessary to procure the information they needed. He knew there would be a major place for him on the council, when he was successful with his questioning of the boy. He was going to be part of history, on this day.
     His escort left him and Marcus opened the door, before leading the cardinal into a large alcove. From there, the cardinal could see a slight boy, of fifteen, with longish blond hair, dressed in sandals, blue jeans and a long, linen shirt, seated cross-legged on the floor about twenty meters from the doorway, with his right side to the door. From this vantage point the cardinal could see that the boy’s eyes appeared to be closed, as if he was in a state of rest. There was also a sense of serenity he had not noticed ever before, in this room.
     The guard left the cardinal in the alcove and crossed the floor to the boy, where he knelt in front of him and whispered to him. The boy lifted his head, and as his eyes opened, he smiled. His voice was soft, and the cardinal could not hear what he spoke to the guard, who bowed his head and clasped the boy’s right hand between his hands. They remained like this for more than a minute and then the guard stood and returned to the Cardinal.
     "He is ready for you, Your Eminence," he said, quietly, and the Cardinal could not help seeing the peacefulness and joy in the guard’s eyes, as he left the room to resume his position outside the door.
     The boy waited silently, as the cardinal walked across the room and then sat on a chair in front of him, and once he was seated, the cardinal looked at the boy and shivered. It was not the profound physical beauty that moved him as much as the sudden feeling within him that there was something in the presence before him that surpassed everything he had ever learned. All of his education and research for this discussion with the boy had not prepared him for what he now felt, though he could not begin to name this new feeling that had overcome him.

     "Thank you, and hello," he said, as the accepted the bowl and a spoon from the boy.
     "Hello, Zachariah," the boy replied, with a smile.
     "How did you know I was here?" Zach asked.
     The boy looked into his eyes and replied:"You told me you would come."
     "But I did not call you, and I don’t even know your name," Zach said.
     "I am Kristophe, Zachariah. You told me in my heart you would come, and I give thanks for this." He turned and looked forward and Zach followed his gaze to see a small boy dressed poorly walking toward them from the crowd, and though a woman tugged at his tattered shirt to pull him back, he continued.
     Kristophe smiled at the boy, who smiled shyly back.
     As the boy approached, Zach turned to Kristophe and studied his face. The television images of him had been incredible to see, but television could not capture the physical beauty of his face - tan, with luminous brown eyes and wavy, sandy-blond hair that hung down almost to his shoulders, framing a face so ethereal and gender-less Zach found himself wondering if this was a boy, or a girl, before him.


     The man paused in front of Kristophe, and while looking into his eyes, he spoke clearly and with a touch of anger in his tone: 
     "I do not believe in this god you speak of."
     Zach waited for Kristophe to reply, but the boy remained silent and held the man's gaze until he turned and walked away from them.
     "Why did you say nothing?" he asked, when the man was out of earshot.
     Kristophe turned to him and asked:
     "What would you say to a man who told you there was no sky?"