The Devil is Politically Correct

Savatie Bastovoi
 Copyright © 2020 Karpatika

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Published by Karpatika Fiction, a division of Karpatika Publishing

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The Devil is Politically Correct – Savatie Bastovoi

Printed in the United States of America

 Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Excerpts from Bertrand Russel’s Prophecies
Seven Sunrises for Jacob Kohner
The Sad Story of Yosef And Roza Kohner
The Inheritance
Watching A Blooming Cherry Tree Through the Window of The
Nursing Home
Paradise of The Elderly
The End of The World
Conversation at The Gym
To Die Crushed by The Crowd
The April Sun
The Children Battalions
The Signs of Time
The Big Brother
Jacob Kohner Goes to Heaven
 Excerpts from Bertrand Russel’s
Prophecies

“Population reduction is essential to the sustainable development

of the world.”

“War, as I remarked a moment ago, has hitherto been

disappointing in this respect, but perhaps bacteriological war may
prove more effective. If a Black Death could be spread throughout the
world once in every generation, survivors could procreate freely
without making the world too full. There would be nothing in this to
offend the consciences of the devout or to restrain the ambitions of
nationalists. The state of affairs might be somewhat unpleasant, but
what of that? Really high-minded people are indifferent to happiness,
especially other people’s.”

“Gradually, by selective breeding, the congenital differences

between rulers and ruled will increase until they become almost
different species. A revolt of the plebs would become as unthinkable
as an organized insurrection of sheep against the practice of eating
mutton.”

“Diet, injections, and injunctions will combine, from a very early

age, to produce the sort of character and the sort of beliefs that the
authorities consider desirable, and any serious criticism of the powers
that be will become psychologically impossible.”

“The populace will not be allowed to know how its convictions

were generated. When the technique has been perfected, every
government that has been in charge of education for a generation will
be able to control its subjects securely without the need of armies or
policemen. […] Educational propaganda, with government help, could
achieve this result in a generation. There are, however, two powerful
forces opposed to such a policy: one is religion, the other is
nationalism. These considerations prove that a scientific world society
cannot be stable unless there is a world government.”

Bertrand Russell
Nobel Laureate,
“The Impact of Science on Society”, 1953
 Seven Sunrises for Jacob Kohner

Jacob Kohner woke up with the same look of annoyance on his face
with which he had fallen asleep. A guy named Vik coarsely bullied
him on his blog, trying to convince him that happiness didn’t exist,
and that it was just an invention of the small-minded. Jacob Kohner
believed in happiness. It was his blog, and he was boiling with anger
at the thought that people like Vik had taken hold of the world and
were steering it in the wrong direction. Besides, who did this Vik guy
think he was? A nobody! A man of straw! A loser whose only
pleasure was that of harassing people on the internet! That’s who Vik
was! And he didn’t deserve any attention! Jacob Kohner went to his
computer and started typing:

JACOB KOHNER: Dear Mr. Vik, you are a sad man for not
believing in happiness! You are solely responsible for the miserable
condition in which you find yourself! I cannot bear the negative
energy of your comments anymore. And please, be short when you
write; I have no time to read all your nonsense. I like civilized and
reasoned discussions. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to block your
comments. I hope you find happiness someday! Goodbye!

Jacob Kohner went to the kitchen to make some coffee. He

intended to light a cigarette while the water was boiling, but another
comment from Vik made him return to the computer instead.

VIK: Jacob, i think you’re the one who has no legitimate

arguments against me, not i. Did i tell you i’m a Camusian? do you
know what Camus said? if not, let me enlighten you (so you won’t
ever call me an imbecile with no arguments again!) Camus said that
suicide is a philosophical attitude, the answer to the question <<is life
worth living or not>>. just accept the fact that maybe i’m one of those
who choose to commit suicide rather than live a shitty life.
JACOB KOHNER: Then kill yourself! Imbecile!
VIK: not ‘till i convince you too! ps: not sure who’s the actual
imbecile here.

Jacob Kohner went haywire after reading the comments. Last

night, before falling asleep, he decided he’d ignore Vik’s teasing,
telling himself that Vik was nothing but a squirt, a contemptible man
and that, most likely, he doesn’t mean what he says; he just talks for
talking’s sake.
But no doubt he was suffering. Jacob Kohner was not a man of
superficiality. Every single word that came out of his mouth
represented him. Words, as he would sometimes put it, were
thoughts materialized, and a man’s thoughts were as his soul. For
how his words were, such were his thoughts. And how his thoughts,
such was his soul.
Vik didn’t believe in the soul. So what? Whatever he believed in
didn’t matter anyway. Jacob Kohner gave him a chance, but that was
it! The crude replies, the snobbish quotations from Camus and
Russell disgusted Jacob Kohner, making him not want to
communicate with this man anymore. “Not sure who’s the actual
imbecile, he says!” mumbled Jacob to himself in a sarcastic tone,
“You are! You superficial and anonymous fraud!” – Jacob Kohner
slammed the pack of cigarettes on the table – “I’ve had enough! I’ve
had enough! I’ve had enough! I wish for something good and
beautiful! I wish…”
What was Jacob Kohner wishing for exactly? He himself didn’t
know, and neither did anyone else in the city.
The sound of the bell derailed his train of thought, and he went to
open the front door.
“Good afternoon! Are you Mr. Jacob Kohner, son of Yosef and
Roza Kohner?”
“Yes… I am he,” answered Jacob, trying to guess the reason of
the visit. He couldn’t stand the postman with his yellow chemise and
brown cap because he’d always bring him bad news: fines, penalties,
and other things like that.
 “You have a subpoena for Jacob Kohner. Please sign.”
Jacob signed and closed the door. He usually signed first and read
after. Refusing to sign was in vain and wouldn’t have made a
difference anyway; everything that came from the City Hall, the
Police, or the Treasury had to be signed. He took the envelope and
returned to the coffee and the cigarette that were waiting for him on
the table, by the window.
He opened the envelope and started reading:

Mr. Jacob Kohner,

We hereby inform you that according to the Act No. 182/110

regarding the discontinuation of physical functions in citizens who
have been rendered unfit to lead an active social life, your mother,
Mrs. Roza Kohner, has been euthanized today, April 12th, at 9:40
AM. The law had been applied in relation to coming to the age of
sixty-five (considered the age limit up to which a person can be
recognized as being fit for social life). The 202 Euros fee for the
medical procedure (including the cremation) must be paid within 5
days, by April 17th, at the City Hall.
The urn containing the ashes of citizen Roza Kohner can be
retrieved from the City Hall as soon as the payment of 35 Euro has
been made (30 Euro for the urn, and 5 Euro for the service of
cremation).

“What the hell!” flared Jacob Kohner after he finished reading the
letter, “how could I forget about mom’s birthday?! I’m such a loser! I’ll
never see her again now! Forgive me, mother... I’ve never been the
son you wanted…”
Why did it have to be like that? Why couldn’t people live for as
long as God intended them to live? Deep down, Jacob Kohner felt
that what had happened with his mother was unethical, but he didn’t
know how to make himself understood. He hadn’t spoken with her in
a long time, and now, he regretted it. Three years have passed since
their last meeting, when he had visited her at the hospice: Roza
Kohner was wearing a blue robe and was reading from a black book.
When she saw her son, she closed the book, placed it on the table,
and stood up. Jacob Kohner approached her, and they hugged,
remaining like that for a while. Roza Kohner pressed her face against
his shoulder, trying to hide her tears. She didn’t want her son to see
her crying. Sensing his mother’s tears on his left shoulder, Jacob
Kohner drew her even closer to his chest, and by putting his right arm
around her neck, he wiped his tears away with the back of his sleeve.
They sat down in the armchairs around the little table. He couldn’t
remember the conversation they had back then. All that it stuck in his
head was the curiosity he had for the title of the book that Mrs.
Kohner was reading. But he couldn’t ask her what the name was, it
wouldn’t have been appropriate. They parted and haven’t seen each
other since then. Nevertheless, every year, on the 12th of April, Jacob
would send his mother a birthday card, except that, this year, he
forgot. How could he forget about it just now, when she would turn
sixty-five, her last anniversary?!
Jacob Kohner was filled with remorse. He lit a cigarette and took a
big pull, his eyes watering from the smoke, “It’s not right...” he kept
telling himself, “it just doesn’t feel right...”
Jacob Kohner earned his living by making commercials. He had a
contract with an advertising agency and received a monthly wage. In
return, he would participate in various ad clips. Sometimes, he was
called as extra in TV talk-shows and even appeared in an electoral
spot.
Jacob Kohner was forty years old, 5’64” tall and weighed 264
pounds. He had blue eyes, and whenever they were shown in close-
up, his eyes looked beautiful but sad. Then, as the image zoomed
out, his forehead and large cheeks would unfold. Then his ears and
his curly hair. Eventually, Jacob Kohner’s entire body would appear,
and he would either be doing some tricks, eat a hamburger, or
mumble some nonsense in which he himself didn’t believe. And for
that, Jacob Kohner was paid.
From his salary, he was able to pay his rent and the internet, to
buy food and the few clothes he could afford. Jacob Kohner had few
clothes and could even make without them since he spent most of his
time indoors, away from prying eyes. He enjoyed texting and skyping,
especially when his interlocutor used his camera. He, however, didn’t
buy a webcam for his computer because he was ashamed of his
looks. As a profile picture, he used the photo of a suntanned guy, with
abdominal muscles, although Jacob Kohner was convinced that the
beauty of a man was reflected by his soul and not defined by physical
appearance.

TURBO 2222: hi! you there?

JACOB KOHNER: Yes!
TURBO 2222: wanna hear a joke?
JACOB KOHNER: Shoot.
TURBO 2222: a jew went to the priest to confess (do you like the
beginning?)
JACOB KOHNER: Yes, go on...
TURBO 2222: he says ‘father, I sheltered a soldier in my
basement during the war…’ the priest says ‘very well, son, you’ve
done good!’, ‘i know, father, however, for every day he stayed there, I
charged him ten dollars.’ , ‘oh my, that’s not good, son’. so the priest
reads him the prayer of absolution and, at parting, the jew says
‘father, may I ask you for advice?’, ‘go ahead, son’, ‘do you think i
should tell the soldier that the war is over?’
JACOB KOHNER: Cool...
TURBO 2222: you like it, huh? ‘should I tell him the war is over’…
i couldn’t stop laughing when i first heard it.
JACOB KOHNER: I do. You’re right...
TURBO 2222: can you stop laughing? come, i’ll let you laugh!
JACOB KOHNER: No. I said it was cool, but I can’t laugh right
now. I have a problem. If I had heard it yesterday, I would’ve laughed.
I like the joke.
TURBO 2222: well then, i must’ve come at the right moment!
hope i’ve cheered you up a little! being sad doesn’t solve anything...

Jacob Kohner didn’t know who TURBO 2222 was. He didn’t even
know if the ‘thing’ on the other side of the profile was, in fact, a real
person. A man. Or a woman. TURBO 2222’s messages would
randomly pop up on the screen, containing pointless jokes. “How can
he live on jokes only?” wondered Jacob. However, the conversation
left him with a bitter taste this time. His mind was concerned with
more important things, like having to go to the City Hall and pay the
damn 202 Euros for his mother’s euthanasia. Then another 35 Euros
for the urn, and finally, 3 Euros for the cab. A total of 240 Euros - that
was the cost of his mother’s death. “What nonsense,” he thought,
“such cruelty, such foolishness, to have to pay for such a thing!” But
the law was the law, and everybody had to obey it, including Jacob
Kohner. He couldn’t be different. But he wanted to be different, for
Jacob Kohner was not like everybody else.

VIK: hi Jacob! are you mad at me?

JACOB KOHNER: Sorry, I’m a little busy. I’ll talk to you later.
VIK: i wanted to apologize. maybe i was too raunchy yesterday. i
had a rough day.
JACOB KOHNER: I too have hard days, but that doesn’t mean I
have the right to offend people.
VIK: i’m sorry, i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to upset you...
JACOB KOHNER: I feel the need to talk to someone, but I have
no one to talk to.
VIK: what about me? you can talk to me!
JACOB KOHNER: I want to talk with a real person, a friend. I
don’t even know you.
VIK: what do you mean you don’t know me? we’ve talked so
many times. even if sometimes we quarreled…
JACOB KOHNER: I don’t even know your name. Is it really Vik?
VIK: no, my name is alexander, if this helps you…
JACOB KOHNER: I don’t know if it helps me, but it feels as if I
can trust you more now. I have so many things I would’ve liked to tell
you… I’ve always wanted to have a friend I can talk to about
everything: about love, happiness, sadness, even about death…
VIK: we both feel the same.
JACOB KOHNER: Have you ever had a friend?
VIK: no.
JACOB KOHNER: Me neither.
VIK: i mean yes… but not like this… i don’t know how to explain...
JACOB KOHNER: This means no. I was almost certain. This is
why you leave rancorous comments. Why do you think happiness
doesn’t exist?
VIK: i don’t know… life has demonstrated it to me.
 JACOB KOHNER: Life has never demonstrated anything to
anyone. Life just is, and it’s up to us to demonstrate.
VIK: jacob, you’re a weirdo.
JACOB KOHNER: Yes, I know. And I have to go to the City Hall
to pay 202 Euros and another 35 Euros for... well, you know…
VIK: oh... i’m sorry. it’s a disgrace what has become of the world.
i’d change the law were it for me.
JACOB KOHNER: It’s so sad.
VIK: i’m surprised you still believe in happiness.
JACOB KOHNER: Vik, I mean Alexander (I’ll call you like this
from now on, I hope you don’t mind), will we ever meet?
VIK: who knows - everything is possible in life, you said so,
remember?
JACOB KOHNER: I’d be very glad if we do. Maybe we’ll become
friends. That would be so nice!
VIK: for sure. now excuse me, i have to go. talk another time.
JACOB KOHNER: Bye!
VIK: bye!

“I feel so lonely!” sighed Jacob, stepping away from the computer,

“The day foreseen by law looms closer for me too, but I feel like my
life hasn’t even started yet. I’d like to do something with my life,
something more than just drivel on the internet or play as an extra in
some idiotic commercial. I want to do something more than just eat
and sleep. But what could this ‘something’ be? And is there
something even more than that? There must be! There must be!
There must be!” he concluded his reasoning on an enthusiastic note.
Hunger surged through him, so he checked his watch. Damn! He
woke up late and missed the sunrise again! He promised himself that
he would not waste his nights on the internet anymore so he could
get up early, at sunrise. He wanted to catch the sun from his window
and write down the thoughts that would invade his mind in those
uplifting moments. He hadn’t seen a sunrise since childhood, thus he
needed a fresh and clean light, like that of the sun at daybreak.
In those days, the whole world seemed upside down. Instead of
going to bed, people would sit and chat on their computers so late in
the night that the most beautiful hours of the day would find them
asleep.
Imagining the sunrise, Jacob Kohner’s face lighted up. He
returned to the computer and googled sunrise; hundreds of pictures
with the sunrise at sea, at the mountains, in the woods appeared
before his eyes. Such beauty!
The Prime Minister died that day. While Jacob Kohner was
enjoying his pork steak in the kitchen, the Prime Minister was
breathing his last breath on a stage set in the city square, in front of a
large crowd of people. Everything had happened so quick and so
unexpectedly that even his bodyguards were taken aback by the
incident. The Prime Minister collapsed on the stage planks, having
his hands clenched around his neck as though he was trying to break
free from an invisible halter. Blood sprang from all his orifices,
including from his eyes. An official from his escort took his coat off
and threw it over the Prime Minister’s petrified face. By the time the
doctors arrived, the Prime Minister was already stone dead. In vain
did they try to straighten his legs that came out from the stretcher like
the spokes of a broken umbrella. The crowd scattered and left the
square, whispering and gossiping about how they had never seen
such a happening before.
The Prime Minister was in full electoral campaign, running for the
second time in a row. He was as famous as the city square, as
popular as the capital of the country. Before returning to politics, he
had disappeared for seventeen years, and nobody knew where he
had gone. He was the senator who, thirty-six years before, had
promoted the Law on Euthanasia, supporting ‘everyone’s right to
depart this life in a decent manner’. His death shocked everybody,
scourging the suppressed rebellion of millions of people. All the news
channels were striving to make the death of the Prime Minister look
natural, invoking the traditional heart attack, but their efforts were
futile.

TURBO 2222: the pig of a man prime minister died! they say his
blood gushed out of his mouth, his ears, his eyes, and probably his…
NASHA-PANTANASA: hey, who was in the square and saw how
the PM died? is it true that he rotted on the spot? they say he stank
like a dead dog!
BARAC OBAMA: i was in the first rows. he stank so badly that it
made me throw up! Watch the news reports: the doctors pinched their
noses ‘cause breathing next to him was impossible. maggots
devoured his eyes and ears, they said! science fiction!
TURBO 2222: serves him right, filthy swine! he shouldn’t have
come up with that criminal law in the first place. he killed both my
parents! i won’t ever forgive him! he got what he deserved!

Two hours after the Prime Minister’s death, the internet had been
blocked all over the country. Jacob Kohner, who had been busy
eating his steak and thinking of all the missed sunrises, knew nothing
of what had happened and concluded that the internet went down
due to some technical problems. It was too late to call the operator
anyway, so he wandered around the house for a while then decided
to go to bed. Perhaps tomorrow he would wake up in time for the
sunrise.
 The Sad Story of Yosef And Roza
Kohner

Roza Kohner was brought to the nursing home two weeks after the
death of her husband, Yosef Kohner. Thanks to her frequent visits to
him, she was quite familiar with the atmosphere of the place. Roza
loved Yosef very much, and she would have never put him in a
hospice, but the law forbade the elderly to die in their own house. A
media campaign had convinced everyone that those who watched
their dearest die were predisposed to depression.
However, the campaign didn’t brainwash Roza Kohner; she was
an old-fashioned woman, who believed that love lasted even beyond
death. Still, she couldn’t fight against the law, and when Yosef Kohner
got sick with cancer, he was taken to die at the nursing home. But
death did not come as doctors had foreseen it. Roza Kohner was
convinced that her husband was kept alive by her love, which she
would declare to him every day. In the end, Yosef Kohner was
euthanized according to Law 182/110.
“Mom, I’ve brought you bagels and a Coke. Let me know if you
need anything else. I can run to the store and…”
“Thank you, Jacob. I have all I need here: food, clothes… Look
how clean everything around is.”
“Yes, Mom… It’s nice here… You’ll get used to it. I want you to
know that I’ll visit often. Like you did with Dad, remember?”
“I do. Well, maybe not that often, you’re young and you have your
own life. I’m old…”
“It’ll be alright, Mom, you’ll see.”
“Sure... Why wouldn’t it be alright? Everything is alright...”
“Ok, Mom. I have to go now, but I’ll come back tomorrow. Let me
know if you need anything else.”
 “Alright, Jacob, I will. Come, farewell.”
“Bye, Mom…”
“Bye bye…”
After Jacob left, Roza Kohner covered her face with her hands
and started crying hard, but she stopped shortly after, thinking that
someone could enter her room at any time. Roza Kohner was never
seen crying…
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you our new colleague, Mrs.
Roza Kohner!”
Everyone started clapping, after which the nurse, a young woman
in her middle twenties, went on:
“Mrs. Kohner will find here the warmth and affection that every
person needs, won’t she?”
“Ye-e-e-s!” they all answered in a choir.
“So, Ladies and Gentlemen, from today, our family has gotten
bigger! We may say that Mrs. Kohner is like a new-born, so let’s
welcome her to her new life!”
The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
“Mrs. Kohner, you must know that here, at the nursing home,
things are a lot more interesting than one would think! More social
and captivating projects for the elderly have been implemented,
which means you won’t have time to feel sad, remorse or to recall
meaningless memories. You must think positive and believe in
victory! Please give Mrs. Kohner a big hand! Congratulations for
becoming part of our family! Let’s applaud, please! Mrs. Kohner,
congratulations…”
The nursing home had changed Roza Kohner completely. She
retreated into herself and only spoke when spoken to. The patients
there talked a lot and would always repeat themselves. Each of them
had their own story that they wished to share. Etiquette was important
for Roza Kohner, so she never interrupted anyone while they were
speaking, and because of her good upbringing, everyone wanted to
talk to her. And they all felt better after.
Nobody, however, had cared how Roza Kohner was feeling. Her
life turned into a real nightmare. She would hide in the garden and
sometimes even in the bathroom just to get away from the tireless
talkers. Eventually, she allowed herself to become like them and
started to quarrel with anyone who would engage her in conversation.
It was the only way for Roza Kohner to find her peace. Shunned by
all, she would sink into her own thoughts, reminiscing the life she had
lived from childhood up until the nursing home, seeking to understand
meanings she had never understood before.
Roza Kohner met an unusual figure at the nursing home. He was
known as Father John, a sturdy and quiet man whom everybody
believed to be mad. Father John was often seen praying over a glass
of wine and a piece of bread that he would later eat, calling it
Communion of the Body and Blood of Christ. Nobody ever saw
Father John sad or discontent. He would tell people that his life had
just begun, and that they, the patients hospitalized there, would be
born from the nursing home straight into the Kingdom of Heaven.
One early morning, while everyone was asleep, Roza Kohner
spotted Father John in the garden reading the Communion prayers.
She waited until he finished then silently approached him.
“Are you praying to God hopping He’ll help you?” she asked,
without greeting him.
“I do it all the time, and God has never deprived me of His help.”
“I too was taught to believe in God. Life, however, showed me that
God doesn’t exist, and that people die helplessly.”
“One doesn’t need any help to die. Only those who want to rise
from the dead need help.”
With that said, Father John turned around and headed to the back
of the garden, his entire being reflecting the truthfulness of his words.
To rise from the dead?! Roza Kohner wondered, perplexed, as if
someone could come back from the dead… Father John’s words
baffled her. They seemed absurd, but at the same time true. Had
someone else told her that, she would have thought of him to be
delirious. But Father John was different. There was something about
this man that piqued her curiosity, so she decided to hold on to him
until she would discover the meaning of his words.
“I just don’t want to be for him what those nagging old crones are
for me,” said Roza Kohner with a sense of guilt, sitting on a bench. “It
wouldn’t be appropriate to barge into this man’s life like that, and ask
him questions which he might not want to answer. No, it’s too much.”
 She bent down and peeped through the branches, trying to see
what Father John was doing. “He’s praying again! How much can this
man pray?! Oh Lord, let him be already, so I can talk to him too!”
Hardly had the woman finished her request when Father John
made the sign of the cross and continued down the alley, soon
stopping right in front of the bench where she was waiting.
“Good morning, sister Roza!” he greeted her first, as joyful as if he
had met an old friend.
“Good morning…” smiled Roza Kohner, tensed and confused,
having wondered how to initiate the conversation.
“Such a beautiful day today, isn’t it? Whoever wakes up early can
hear the chirping of the birds. Do you hear them?”
“Yes… I didn’t notice it before…”
“There comes an age when the sunrise and chirping of the birds
gain an entirely new meaning, as the Wiseman describes in the
Ecclesiastes…”
“Ecclesiastes?! Isn’t that something from the Bible?”
“It is. The book of Solomon, to be exact, in which Solomon talks
about his life, trying to answer eternal questions that torment man…”
“Really? And what are these eternal questions?”
“What are these eternal questions?! What use is there in living
this life, for example, or what is the point of everything?”
“Indeed, what is the point of everything?”
“No point!” laughed Father John. “Meaningless, all is meaningless
and a chasing after the wind!”
“Then what?”
“And t-h-e-e-e-n…,” murmured Father John in a soothing tone, as
if he was addressing a child, “Remember your Creator in the days of
your youth, before the days of trouble come and the years approach
when you will say: I find no pleasure in them!”
“We’re going back to God again, aren’t we?”
“Yes, my lady, we are going back to God!”
Father John stood silent, and Roza Kohner got lost in his eyes,
feeling as if her entire life could fit in them. As she watched The
Father walk away, Roza Kohner sensed that, in his company, she
would no longer fear death. For the rest of that day, Roza Kohner felt
immortal.
 Law 182/110 had passed when Roza Kohner was twenty-nine
years old. Since she was young at the time, she did not care. “We all
die one day, anyway,” was her response to her husband Yosef when
he expressed his revolt towards the new law.
“This is madness! What’s the world coming to?!” said Yosef
Kohner, tossing the newspaper on the coffee table.
“It is a good thing, in my opinion,” answered Roza Kohner, leaning
back in her armchair. “It’s better to die earlier than to become a
recluse whom nobody needs anymore.”
“Roza, have you lost your mind?! Never say that again! We are
human beings first and foremost, and I will never accept anybody in
the Kohner family to go against life! Every man has the right to live,
and since life is a gift from God, it should go back to Him whenever
He decides!”
“Well, Yosef… You do know I don’t agree with this law either. I
was just thinking, you know, that it’s so unpleasant when you get old
and nobody wants you. Perhaps it’s better to die at the right moment.
This doesn’t mean that I agree with euthanasia. Why, like only few
people depart this life peacefully and without being euthanized? This
is what I meant...”
“Ah well, let’s close the topic. We cannot change anything
anyway. Maybe you’re right. We’ll just have to live more consciously.
We are not eternal. Maybe this way people will value their life more. I
guess we’ve got so used to wasting our youth days that by the time
we grow old, we start to have regrets…”
“Yosef was so right!” grieved Roza Kohner, unwinding her
memories. “So badly I want to live now, even if it’s in this asylum,
where life seems to have faded away! Oh, Yosef, you were always so
wise! You weren’t the older one for nothing, my love…” Roza Kohner
smiled and closed her eyes, wishing not to ever escape her
memories.
Another law, however, made Roza Kohner loathe the entire
political class even more. Six months after euthanasia had been
legalized, the tax for the second child was introduced. Roza Kohner
already had two children, and she wanted to have two more since her
dream was to have four children. Although she was exempted from
paying a monthly tax of 2000 Euros for her second child, Jacob, she
wasn’t allowed to have more children. Half a year later, a new law
had passed which completely destroyed Roza Kohner’s dream. The
new law allowed the first born to have one child only, and if he or she
dared to have a second child, the second child would have been
castrated. The law was applied retroactively to all children under the
age of seven.
Therefore, try as she might, Roza Kohner couldn’t save her son
from the scourge of the scalpel, so Jacob was castrated, being
among the children who ‘opened the gate to a new era’, as it was
said back then. Roza Kohner’s pain was soothed only by the fact that
every second born in the last seven years, and also the ones not
lucky enough to be the first to open their mother’s womb, had the
same fate. No matter what was said, Jacob was an open wound to
the Kohners, a wound that never healed.
An even greater shock for Roza Kohner was the law that allowed
people to buy the right for the second child to have children of his
own. Even though the Kohners could have never raised 100,000
Euros to buy this right for their son Jacob, the thought that nothing
could ever be done for him tormented Roza.
Ironically, Raul, the Kohners’ first born, gave up his right to
procreate in exchange for the sum of 100,000 Euros offered by the
government. When he was twenty-seven, Raul asked for his money
and left for Israel. He never came back nor gave any sign since.
Therefore, poor Jacob remained the only comfort for the Kohners.
“Jacob, I want you to know that, no matter what happens, we love
you the most!” said Roza Kohner, hugging her teenage son.
“Even more than Raul?” Jacob would always ask.
“We love him too, but you are loved the most,” Roza Kohner
would always answer.
“But when is Raul coming back, mother?”
“Soon, my dear. He’s got work to do, but he’ll come back soon…”
“I’ll never leave you… I’ll stay here forever…”
“You do that, son!”
“You bet I’ll do it!”
Roza Kohner covered her face with her hands and tried not to cry
as old memories invaded her mind. In the next bed, a woman was
sleeping deeply, having no more than four days left before her sixty
fifth anniversary. The gleam of the lanterns in the alley shinned
through the window, and the silence in the room had become as
difficult to bear as the pain.
 The Inheritance

Jacob Kohner woke up early, put on his best suit and prepared to
leave for the City Hall. The cab he was expecting, however, was
already ten minutes late. Annoyed, he wanted to cancel it and call
another one, but he felt sorry for the acid remarks he had in store for
the guilty driver. Nevertheless, his decision to not cancel the first taxi
proved a mistake as the driver turned out to be a country bumpkin
who insulted Jacob from the very beginning.
“Good afternoon!” said Jacob Kohner as he entered the cab,
“although it was still morning when I called,” he added, irritated.
The car swayed under Jacob’s weight and remained laid on its
side.
“Easy, man! My fenders are weak.”
“Are they?! What am I paying you for, then, huh? You should’ve
already had them fixed, since you charge the earth for your service...”
“Where are we going?” asked the driver, ignoring Jacob’s
sarcastic comment.
“To the City Hall. Alright then. Clients pay you, so you must
provide them with a service, correct? And also, you are to be on time,
true? Time is money. Or only your fenders cost money?”
“Oh, keep your trap shut, you neuter!”
Jacob Kohner did not expect that. He got rattled, and not knowing
what to answer, he just said:
“You’re stupid!”
Jacob Kohner wanted to say something more insulting but
remained quiet. All of a sudden, a wave of profound sadness washed
over him, causing even the driver to feel uncomfortable.
“Please forgive me, sir… I’ve worked all night and I’m tired… I
didn’t mean to offend you,” the driver broke the silence.
 “It’s alright, I’m used to it,” replied Jacob, staring out of the window
like nothing had happened, “I’ve heard it a million times before.”
“I’m really sorry...”
“It’s ok, don’t worry. I understand.”
“What business do you have at the City Hall?”
“I have to pay a tax…”
“182/110?”
“Aham...”
“I’m sorry. Had I known…”
“It’s ok...”
“I really am sorry… I’ll take you for free!”
“No need for that… I have money. I’m in no way different from
your other clients. I want to pay…”
“And I want to take you for free. It’s my pleasure.”
“But my pleasure is to pay! Pay! Pay!”
Jacob Kohner grabbed the back seat and burst into crying.
“Oh, no... Please, calm down... I’m really sorry… Had I only
known… Please… What’s your name?”
“It’s… Ja... Jacob Kohner… Why does it matter?”
“What do you mean why does it matter?! It matters for me… I’m…
Oh, Jacob! Do you know who I am? Guess who I am! You won’t
believe it… Oh, Jacob! I’m Vik! Alexander! Your friend from the
internet! The one you squabble with all the time!”
“Vik?! Alexander?! I mean, why now?! On such a hard day for
me?! Of all the days we could’ve meet, Vik! Alexander! Do you know
how much I’ve been thinking about you since the last time we spoke?
If only you knew the hope you gave me... I really believed we could
be friends! That we would meet one day... But never in a million years
did I think it would be so soon! I didn’t even ask you where you live…
Vik! Listen. Oh, damn! He almost hit us! Mother fu... he scared me so
much!”
“It’s nothing. Don’t mind him. That’s how traffic gets in the
morning, my friend. Oh! Open your goddamn eyes, you…! Such an
idiot, he didn’t even signal…”
“It’s so good we’ve met… Forget the traffic… I’m not used to it… I
always feel like the cars will run over me…”
 “We’re here! I’m so glad! Jacob! I can’t believe how this
happened... for us to meet today! Even if we wanted to, it wouldn’t
have turned this way!”
“Yes… Vik, I mean Alexander… We’re not parting like this, are
we?! Wait for me please… I’ll pay you whatever the fare is and…”
“I’ll wait for you only if you accept a free ride!” joked Vik.
“Alright then, I’ll make an exception for you! Just don’t leave! I’m
gonna’ pay the damn tax and be back shortly, then we can go
somewhere and talk! I’ve got so much to tell you!”
“Ok, my friend! Hurry now! I said I’d wait for you!”
Jacob Kohner was filled with two opposite emotions: on the one
hand, he was grieving over his mother’s death and the injustice that
was happening in the world, and on the other hand, he was happy he
met Vik. He was thinking how the future alongside a true friend would
be. He was so naïve, though he wasn’t aware of it, and he was full of
charm precisely because there were so many things that he didn’t
know!
“Good morning! I came regarding the citation received on the
name of Jacob Kohner…”
“One moment, please… So, Jacob Kohner… Yes. The amount
you have to pay is 202 Euros…”
“And I would like to take the urn as well…”
“Sure. That’ll be an additional 35 Euro, please.”
“Here you go. May I take it right now?”
“Of course. Please sign here… Right… Now, you need to fill in
another form at counter 22, and you’ll be set.”
“Thank you…”
“You’re welcome.”
“Have a nice day...”
“Likewise. Next, please!”
Jacob Kohner paid the fee and left with the urn on the corridors.
He was dazed and couldn’t believe that he was carrying the remains
of his mother in a plastic vase. He couldn’t cry either. More dead than
alive, he hurried out of the building, convinced that someone was
following him. Across the street, Vik was waiting for him, his hand
waving rapidly in the air, which made Jacob feel a little better. So
good he wasn’t alone in that moment! No idea what he could have
done otherwise…
Words were superfluous in such a situation, so the two friends
remained quiet a great deal of time. Then Jacob Kohner decided it
was time to break the silence. It was his responsibility to do so.
“So, Vik, what have you been doing lately?”
“Nothing special... Just work... I earn my living as a taxi drive, as
you can see.”
“That’s nice, but how do you log on to the chat?”
“Ah!” smiled Vik, trying to be witty, “I have a laptop which I carry
with me… I usually log on during my night shifts, when I don’t have
that many clients. I do it just to kill the time...”
“I suspected you were doing it because of that. You don’t put your
heart in what you say…”
“Why should I? I’m just having fun… Although, I did notice you live
every word and get upset easily! I hope you haven’t been bearing a
grudge against me, have you?”
“No, I haven’t, you can relax,” smiled Jacob, “but you’re right; I do
get too involved sometimes. I don’t have anyone, you see, and I’ve
been living my entire life on the internet. I know it sounds stupid, but
everything that happens online feels real to me. If I’d be superficial
there, then I’d be superficial everywhere.”
“You know, Jacob, I enjoyed chatting with you even from the very
beginning.”
“Well, I can’t say the same, Alexander, I couldn’t sleep because of
you, especially since you said that happiness is an invention of the
small-minded...”
“By the way…” Vik tried changing the subject, “how do you feel
about the Prime Minister’s death?”
“Which Prime Minister?! Did a Prime Minister die?!”
“Oh, don’t you know our PM died?”
“No… It’s the first I’m hearing about it… What happened?”
“Well, in short, he suddenly got sick and fell on the stairs during
his speech in the square yesterday. Apparently, he died of
suffocation. People say he rot on the spot. Blood was coming out of
every orifice; nose, mouth, ears, eyes... You couldn’t stay near him,
they said. Some even saw how maggots ate their way from the inside
out. Not a pretty sight if you ask me!”
“Oh, dear! So that’s why the internet was down… I tried logging
on last night to check what else happened in the world, but I
couldn’t…”
“Well, yeah! They had blocked it all over the country because of
the many comments on the forums. People were saying too much.
That’s how I found out about the worms and the stench... The news
only said he’d had a heart attack.”
“This guy deserved his death, you know. The swine promoted the
182/110. May all who think like him share his fate.”
“Anyway, it was terrible. A shock for everybody.”
“I can imagine... Here’s my home. Will you come in for a coffee,
Alexander?”
“I’d like to, Jacob, but I still have some work I need to take care of,
and I also need to get some rest. I’ll come by tomorrow. I promise.”
“I see... Anyway, I’m glad we’ve met. I hope we can see each
other more often from now on. If you don’t mind, of course…”
“How could I mind?! It was great meeting you too, Jacob.”
“Thank you for being with me…”
“Sure. A friend in need is a friend indeed.”
“Ok. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow!”
“Bye!”
“Bye!”
A strange feeling agitated Jacob the minute he entered his
apartment. A sweet voice-like sound came from the kitchen, and for a
moment, he thought he heard his mother calling his name. Shortly
after, a familiar warmth flashed through him, a warmth so intense that
reminded him of his childhood, and he felt his mother’s hands
touching his head, then his face, and then his shoulders. Jacob
Kohner closed his eyes and began to weep. He felt so helpless… so
much evil in the world and he couldn’t do anything to stop it... But the
warmth, which he couldn’t yet explain, gave him hope and strength to
live on.
Jacob stood still for about half an hour, lost in his memories,
before the doorbell brought him back to reality.
 “Good day, sir. Are you Jacob Kohner?”
“Yes,” answered Jacob.
“Sign here, please…”
“May I ask what for?”
“You have received an inheritance from your mother, Mrs. Roza
Kohner. To take possession of it, you must sign here…”
“Yes, of course.”
“Alright… Here you go!”
“Thank you! What is it?”
“It’s yours now. You have all the time in the world to open the box
and see for yourself. Have a nice day.”
The postman hoped on his bicycle and zipped away before Jacob
could say goodbye.
“What a day!” murmured Jacob, closing the door, “At this rate, my
heart will soon give in...” Curious, he opened the package in a hurry
and found a tiny box inside. He placed the box on the table and
began to stare at it. He wanted to prolong the moment for as long as
possible, the same way one would want to prolong a date with the
loved one. He recognized his mother’s bow and style of gift wrapping.
He missed his mother. Whatever was inside no longer mattered. He
already inherited the most important thing to him: his mother’s love
and her last thoughts, and that gave his life meaning.
Inside the box, Jacob found the black book he had seen at his
mother on their last meeting. The title of the book read: “The BIBLE”.
Jacob Kohner had heard of the Bible the same way as he had heard
of the Egyptian pyramids, the Eiffel Tower and the Chinese Wall:
without ever seeing them.
Few people had seen a Bible during Jacob’s time, but even fewer
had read from it. Because of that, such a strange inheritance puzzled
and intrigued him. When he opened the book, an envelope fell out.
He picked it up and noticed a few handwritten words on the front: To
my beloved son, Jacob. From Mom.
Filled with excitement, Jacob Kohner hurried to open the
envelope:

My beloved son, my darling Jasha!

 I am writing these words from my bed at the nursing home, in the
last hours of my life. No, I am not going to die! I am certain of it!
Soon, I shall pass into another life, a much better one, where there is
no injustice and no pain.
A peace that I have never felt before pervaded my heart. I only
wish to remain silent and enjoy this peace. But the thought that I will
no longer be able to hear your voice prompts me to write you this
letter. I have so much to tell you, my dear Jacob, but I feel that words
do not suffice. I wish you could feel my love, which would be enough
for me.
I know we were born into a world that is too wicked and too cruel
to speak about love. Your fate was even tougher than Raul’s, but I
want you to know that now, on my deathbed, I consider you to be my
first born and the one I have loved the most.
Here, at the nursing home, I have met an extraordinary man,
Father John. Don’t be surprised. I know I’ve raised you without belief
in God, but it was only because I myself had lost faith in Him. I have
discovered what people had forgotten, and I have found myself again.
I am happy. Death does not exist!
I received a Bible from Father John. You saw it when you last
visited me. I would have liked to tell you about it back then, but I knew
you weren’t prepared. However, I don’t even know if these words can
be spoken, but if they can, I don’t know if I am the one entitled to
express them. I leave this book with you so that you yourself can
learn and understand what I so much longed to tell you. Read it,
thinking that, in this way, you are speaking with me. This is what I
would have wanted you to know. And if I had another life, I would
have told you the same thing because, apart from this, everything
else is meaningless and without beauty.
May Christ the God, Who died on the cross for us to resurrect us
together with Him, watch over you! I kiss you and I will not stop being
with you!

I love you.
Mom”
 The peace that his mother mentioned in the letter had invaded
Jacob’s heart as he sank in the armchair, remaining there for a long
time. The tears coursing down his cheeks felt good and amplified his
state of wellness. He had never felt his mother’s love so intense like
he did now. Love made him feel immortal. For the first time in his life,
Jacob Kohner realized that there is no greater force in the world than
love. Not even death.
In the meantime, on the stage in the city square, the President
and the Ministry of Healthcare were dying of convulsions.
 Watching A Blooming Cherry Tree
Through the Window of The Nursing
Home

The door of the pavilion opened and the nurse came in, carrying a
tray with tea and pills.
“Good morning, Mrs. Kohner! I’ve brought you your tea and your
pills.”
“Good morning. Thank you. Miss, could I skip the pills and the tea
this morning?”
“Oh, Mrs. Kohner! I’m afraid you cannot do that... I won’t leave
until you take the pills and drink your tea…”
“Miss, I know very well what kind of pills and what tea you’ve
brought me…”
“What do you mean?”
“Leave me, please. There is no need for this. I’m not afraid of
dying. I only have one hour left to live, and I want to live it properly. I
don’t want to sleep.”
“Oh, Mrs. Kohner… I’m so sorry… I know it’s not easy, but all of
us must go through this... You won’t feel anything. It won’t hurt, I
promise…”
“You’re so sure, aren’t you, Miss?” replied Mrs. Roza Kohner with
a mocking smile.
“I’m sorry but I have other patients I must attend to. I wish you
much strength… It was nice meeting you… You are a pleasant
presence… I had a lot to learn from you… I will never forget you…
Now, if you could please excuse me, I have to go…”
Roza Kohner got out of bed and went to the window. The garden
was deserted, and the blooming cherry trees predicted a fruitful year.
So beautiful the ripe cherries were! And so tasty! Roza Kohner
remembered the day when Raul, her first born, ate cherries for the
first time. Then she remembered Jacob. He tasted cherries much
later, when he was around one and a half years old. What could be
more beautiful and more innocent than a child eating cherries for the
first time? Roza Kohner walked away from the window and went to
the nightstand. She opened the drawer and took out the Bible, she
kissed it and placed it aside. Then she took out a pencil and a
notebook, took a sit in the armchair and started writing:

MY WILL

I, Roza Kohner, leave my Bible, which I myself have inherited

from Father John, as inheritance to my son Jacob Kohner.
I sign today, April 12th.

Roza Kohner wrote one last letter to her son Jacob and placed it
in an envelope, which she hid inside the Bible.
Finally, Roza Kohner turned towards East and bowed three times,
after which she remained still, praying for something that nobody
knew and would never find out.
She then sank in the armchair again, closing her eyes and letting
her head lean back. In her mind, she recalled the last hour spent with
Father John, and the peaceful way in which the priest greeted death.
Father John was one of the many monks that had been evicted
from the monastery following a state decree. After spending five
years in the forest close to the city, he was denounced by someone
who suspected him of avoiding Law 182/110. Therefore, he was
arrested and, given his age of sixty-four, he was brought to the
nursing home.
When Roza Kohner met him, Father John was sixty-four years
and nine months old, so he only had three months left until his death.
From the day of their encounter in the garden, Roza Kohner and
Father John spent all their time together, the two becoming almost
inseparable. They were the subject of idle gossip for the residents of
the home, who thought that a love affair had blossomed between the
two. Their story, however, was totally unusual for those times and for
that place. Touched by the power and wisdom of Father John’s
words, Roza Kohner asked to be baptized, the sacrament taking
place on one morning, in the pool of the nursing home.
From that day forth, Roza Kohner took part in all the Liturgies
ministered by Father John in secrecy, the two of them taking Holy
Communion together in remembrance of the Body and Blood of
Jesus Christ. For Roza Kohner, the days spent with Father John were
the brightest of her entire life. She was completely immersed in the
meanings of the Gospel, and she felt with all her being that her birth
of water and of the Spirit was more real than her natural birth. If Roza
Kohner hadn’t been born there, in the nursing home, she would have
never been born. A life born towards death is nothing more than a
prolonged death. But this new life which uplifted her into eternity was
the true life that God granted people through the sacrifice of His Son,
Jesus Christ. Roza Kohner lived this truth with so much sense of
fullness that each day she lived after the baptism seemed to her like
a new life. She came to understand that a single moment lived in
Christ was enough to give meaning and happiness to her entire life.
Should man live in a moment, and if in that moment he’d come to
accept Christ as Savior, it would be enough for him to pass happily
into eternity.

✽✽✽

On his last night, Father John ministered the Liturgy in the garden,
with Roza Kohner by his side. It was a warm night in August, and
crickets were singing unabatedly in the grass.
“Sister Roza,” said Father John before starting the prayer, “I would
like us to offer this night to God. Let us keep vigil and not fall
asleep…”
“So be it, Father.”
Father John faced East, and raising the Bible with both hands
above the bread and the wine, he said in a trembling voice:
“Blessed is the Kingdom of the Father and of the Son and of the
Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages!”
“Amen,” answered Roza Kohner, making the sign of the cross
over her body and bowing to the ground.
“In peace, let us pray to the Lord!”
 “Lord, have mercy!”
“For the peace from above and for the salvation of our souls, let
us pray to the Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“For the peace of the whole world, for the stability of the holy
churches of God, and for the unity of all, let us pray to the Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“For the blessed orthodox Patriarchs, Archbishops, and Bishops
everywhere in the world, for the honorable presbyterate, for the
diaconate in Christ, and for all the clergy and the people, let us pray
to the Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“For favorable weather, for an abundance of the fruits of the earth,
and for peaceful times, let us pray to the Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“For those who travel by land, by sea, and by air, let us pray to the
Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“For the sick, the suffering, the captives and for their salvation, let
us pray to the Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“For our deliverance from all affliction, wrath, danger, and
necessity, let us pray to the Lord.”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“Help us, save us, have mercy on us, and protect us, O God, by
Your grace!”
“Lord, have mercy!”
“Commemorating our most holy, pure, blessed, and glorious Lady,
the Theotokos and ever-virgin Mary, with all the Saints, let us
commend ourselves and one another, and our whole life to Christ our
God.”
“To You, O Lord.”
“For to You belong all glory, honor, and worship, to the Father and
to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and forever and to the ages of
ages.”
“Amen!”
 Father John knew the Liturgy by heart, and he taught Roza
Kohner how to give the proper answers. Where Roza would forget,
Father John would sing along. He had ministered alone for such a
long time that now, when he had someone beside him to reply
“Amen” to his prayers, he felt as if the entire world had suddenly
woken up and was now praying with him to The Living God. Father
John had neither the space nor the time to minister the Holy Liturgy
the way he used to minister at the monastery. His Liturgy was
primitive, like that of the Saint Apostles, and perhaps this very
simplicity was what had conquered Roza Kohner’s heart from the
beginning. She felt and knew that God came wherever and whenever
Father John would pray. Nothing was more majestic than a Liturgy
ministered with faith and love. And Father John had both.
After they took Holy Communion, Father John carefully gathered
the glass, the plate, and the knife which he used for the Liturgy.
“From now on, I won’t be able to use them anymore. Let’s find a
clean spot to bury them. It would be a sin to leave them here for
someone to find and use them for ordinary things. They are holy.”
Father John went to a tree where he had a spade ready. Roza
Kohner watched him in silence.
“I will leave this morning. I wanted you to be with me today, to
keep vigil and to pray to God together.”
“I’m ready to be by your side in eternity too, Father.”
“I pray to God, and I believe it will be so.”
“You didn’t tell me that it would be so soon…”
“I didn’t want to worry you… although Christians shouldn’t be
worried in the face of death. If we have faith and a little love, we’ll
pass from death to life.”
“True. But my heart is sad. I can’t say farewell. I feel like crying.”
“And I am ready to leave. I feel the Lord calling me, and my heart
is burning at the thought of meeting Him. I have sinned, Lord, but
You, Who are All-loving, receive me as Your prodigal son, as Your
lost sheep. O, life is so short, and even if it were as long as the world,
we still would not have time to repent! But God’s mercy and love are
so great that even the most sinful man can be saved if his heart is
humble and if he calls God’s name…”
Father John kept silent for a few moments then said:
 “Sister Roza, pray for my soul.”
Roza Kohner kept looking at him but could not say a word. Her
love for this man was so great that words would have only lessened
it. She came close and, taking his right hand in her palms, she kissed
it. Then she leaned her head against his big shoulder and burst into
tears.

✽✽✽

“Mrs. Roza! It’s time.”

The door opened, and the young nurse put her head around the
door, without entering the room.
A man’s irritated voice was heard from the corridor.
“Why isn’t she sleeping?!”
“It was her last wish, doctor…” answered the nurse hesitantly.
“What last wish, Miss?! You are too young and too inexperienced
to make such decisions! The regulation forbids it!”
“Please forgive me… She is stubborn, she refused the tea, the
pills… She told me to leave her alone because she only had one
more hour left to live and that she didn’t want to sleep it…”
“Get out of my sight! This asylum will go bankrupt thanks to
inefficient merciful Samaritans like you! Do you understand that you
have broken the rules?! The Law?! O, this mercy! When are we going
to get rid of it?!”
Roza Kohner heard the discussion but didn’t care about it. Her
mind was far away. Absorbed in thought, she could see Father John
giving her the Bible, she could still hear the crickets singing, and she
could still smell the pleasant scent of flowers and grass.
“Mrs. Roza Kohner, please lie on your bed. Don’t be afraid, it
won’t hurt at all. Just a little sting. Come, Mrs. Kohner, we are already
forty minutes late.”
Roza Kohner got up from the armchair and lay on the bed.
Looking at the ceiling, she made the sign of the cross over her chest
for the last time then closed her eyes, smiling.
 Paradise of The Elderly

Jacob Kohner had been awaken in the middle of the night by the
noise of the cars that perfumed the city. Big yellow trucks, like some
giant missile carriers, flashed across the streets. Clouds of perfume
swirled of their tanks, covering everything around. All this unusual
scenery was accompanied by the sirens whose noise jammed the
traffic, making way for the colossal perfumeries on wheels.
Nevertheless, wave after wave of foul stench from the nearby sea
flooded the air and mixed with the trucks’ perfume, resulting in an
unbearable odor that made your stomach turn upside down.
That night, Jacob fell asleep late. Meeting Vik had opened a new
door in his life. He thought of the future, a future different from his
monotonous past and depressing present. A foolish hope that the
world could be changed, that evil could be stopped invaded his soul
again. He was not alone anymore. And the fact that others like Vik
existed all around the world ignited a joyful fire in his heart. A fire that
prevented him from falling asleep sooner.
He was standing in the balcony now, trying to understand the
meaning of the trucks and the odor they were spreading behind. The
waves of foul stench combined with the perfume released in the air
forced Jacob to close the window and wash his hands. However, the
overpowering stench was strong enough to penetrate the walls and
soon pervaded the balcony through the closed windows. Never
before had Jacob experienced such a foul smell. He would bring his
hands up to his nose, after which he’d wash them over and over
again. Confusion and terror engulfed the city.
In the days following Mrs. Kohner’s death, the world was to
experience things unheard of before. Cruel laws imposed by the
government with the intention of reducing the world population would
now backfire on its creators in the most unexpected way.
 Ministers, generals, bankers, and most of the wealthy had
erected, in time and in secrecy, a city of their own where, at the fatal
age of sixty-five, they would retreat to live in peace — as if peace
existed for sinners — the rest of their ugly old life. All these people
were legally dead.
On an island a few tens of miles offshore, all those who once
sustained the legalization of euthanasia for the sixty-five-year-olds
had built themselves a Paradise for The Elderly. Although it seemed
a real haven for the aged criminals, it was a living hell for the young
who were exiled there only to serve them. Young girls and boys
barely out of their teenage years were enslaved on the island only to
fulfill the sick desires of those demons in human bodies.
The mystery of the Paradise for The Elderly was more than a
state secret, since the world’s most corrupt dignitaries lived their old
age there. And perhaps the secret would have remained a secret
forever if the good Lord hadn’t put an end to the sacrilege that those
people had plunged into.
On the night of the President and the Health Minister’s death, a
heavy pestilence presaged by an unearthly rumble fell upon the
island. Lord Richard, ex-prime minister of Great Britain, now in his
early seventies, had sent word for young Arthur and was now waiting
in his bedroom, where he had lit many scented candles.
“Sir Richard?” it was Arthur’s shy voice, right after he knocked
gently on the half-opened door, “have you asked for me?”
“Yes, Arthur, come in...”
The boy stepped into the half-darkness of the scented room.
When his eyes got accustomed to the darkness, he saw Sir Richard
lying on the bed’s edge, dressed in a bathrobe.
“Arthur, my dear,” said Lord Richard, getting up and grabbing the
young man by his hand, “I’ve called you because I was feeling
lonely... have a glass of whisky with me, will you?”
“Of course, Sir... How could I refuse you?”
“Well then, I’ll ask you to have a sit on the bed. I’ve had a hard
day. Some unpleasant thoughts came into my mind... Such a
punishment this memory is! Why must people have to have memory?
What do you think, Arthur?”
 “I don’t know, Sir... to recognize other people, probably... I don’t
know… If they had no memory, people wouldn’t recognize each other,
they wouldn’t recognize their home, their clothes... they would forget
to eat...”
“Oh, Arthur!” exclaimed Lord Richard, pouring the drink in the
glasses, “You’re so funny in your naivety! I know! You are a happy
idiot!”
“You’re probably right, Sir...”
“Not probably, but surely!”
“Surely, you’re right, Sir... You always are...”
Lord Richard played a Viennese waltz in the background then
approached the bed, waltzing with the glasses in his hands.
“Oh, I adore the waltz! Especially the Viennese waltz! By the way,
Arthur, do you like waltzing?”
“I don’t know, Sir...”
“What is it that you don’t know, dear boy?”
“I don’t know what to respond...”
“Respond as it is!”
“Well, I don’t like it...”
“It doesn’t matter, I will teach you...”
Lord Richard grabbed Arthur’s hand and drew him closely. Then
he handed him the glass of whisky. With the glass in one hand, and
with the other hand leaning against Arthur, Lord Richard started to
sway across the room, pulling the clumsy young man after him.
“Drink, dear boy! Why aren’t you drinking?! It’s a very fine drink!
Thieves invented it, but the noblemen drink it, ha, ha! Though,
nowadays, there is no difference between the former and the latter,
ha, ha!”
After he tossed off his drink, Lord Richard, who had already drunk
some that evening, became more and more vulgar. Arthur got tipsy
and loosened up.
“Sir Richard,” Arthur dared to ask after his second glass, “may I
ask you a question?”
“Sure, darling,” answered the Lord, waltzing by himself with the
glass in his hand.
“One thought has been haunting me since I arrived: whether
you’re happy or not.”
 “O-o-o! Ha-ha! Wait a second... Are you asking me if I’m happy?!”
Lord Richard downed his drink and threw the glass into the
ceiling, and the shards of the glass that broke with a noise fell on his
head.
“Oh, yes, dear boy! I am happy! I’m very happy! In fact, I’m the
happiest man there is! Do you hear me? I-am-the-hap-pi-est-man!”
The Lord plunked into the bed with his arms and legs wide open.
“But do you know why?” he shouted, turning his face towards the
boy, who had been startled by the noise of the broken glass, “do you
know why, darling? Because I’ve devoted my entire life to a dream, to
a wonderful plan! Because I did what I had to do! Because I served
the Brotherhood! Because I see how the dream of my ancestors
fulfills in front of me! Because mankind was brought to its knees!
Because I have the world at my feet! Do you understand, boy? What
else can a man wish for to be happy? Power! Power! Power! And
more power!”
Arthur stood motionless at the head of the bed, listening terrified
to the old man’s paranoid delirium. He knew that anyone who was
brought to the island could never escape. Sooner or later, he too
would end up like many other young men before him: dumped into
the sea like a useless broken object. All that the inhabitants of the
island wanted from him was his youth and his health. Sometimes, he
would feel like a bottle of whisky — there was no difference between
them. Lord Richard raised one hand and continued to speak, pointing
to the ceiling:
“There are two kinds of people in this world, boy: those who are
meant to be leaders, and those who are meant to be slaves. Or better
said, there are those who were born to be humans, and those who
are nothing more than a bunch of animals, of blockhead bipeds,
whom we, the real people, must use at our whim. You, young man,
for example, are a blockhead biped! Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir...,” hummed Arthur who had recently awaken from the
whisky and was now paralyzed with fear, regretting that he had
brought the subject up.
“You are an animal, and I can do whatever I want to you! Do you
know why?”
“No, Sir, I don’t...”
 “Ha-ha! I knew you’re funny in your silliness! Because that’s how
the world is, dear boy! Some are born to rule, while others are born to
be ruled!”
Lord Richard wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and
sighed:
“Well, now, I don’t even feel like it anymore! It’s enough! You are
an idiot! An imbecile! An animal! Why must I report to you everything I
do? Come, sit on the bed... But first, pour another round!”
The Lord took the glass and fixed his eyes on the ceiling.
“My children think I’m dead. But I’m not dead... I am alive! And
I’ve prepared them a bright future. When they’ll reach my age, they
won’t have to hide anymore. Everything will be in the open then.
Some will have the right to live, and others will have the right to die.
Ha-ha! Did you hear me?! They will have the right to die! It will be
their only right! Ha-ha! The law, dear boy, is what brings comfort to
man. Men love laws! So we give them laws! We! We, boy! We make
all the laws! All! Do you hear me?! Laws! Laws! Laws! I love laws
because through them I can bring the world to its knees!”
Arthur sensed a foul stench filling the room, mixing with the
candles’ perfume and with the frenetic sounds of the waltz. At first, he
thought that the stench was coming from the old man’s mouth, but
the more the Lord spoke, the more intense the stench got. All of a
sudden, the old man’s face grew squidgy, and he started talking
gibberish.
“Flies?! Shut the window, Arthur! So many flies in the room! What
do they want from me?! Ugh! Be gone, flies! Arthur, get these flies out
of here! Oh! Don’t leave me, Arthur! The flies want to eat me!”
The old man’s face turned scarlet. Grabbing his neck with his both
hands, he started to pant and spit as though he’d swallowed
something.
“Arthur, Arthur! The flies are getting inside me! Close the window,
Arthur! Chase these flies away! Arthur! Arthur!”
Arthur didn’t see any flies, but the louder the old man shouted, the
more stench filled the room. In the end, Lord Richard stretched out
his arms and legs, and his body became stiff. Blood gushed from all
of his cavities, and in a few seconds, his entire bed had been invaded
by maggots. Flooded with fear, Arthur burst out of the room and into
the hallway, where he kept throwing up on the carpets. There was
moaning and screaming everywhere he turned, accompanied by
noises of heavy apartment doors slamming. In a moment, the streets
were filled with young boys and girls running in panic. Meanwhile, in
Lord Richard’s room, in the candle perfumed half-darkness, Strauss’
waltz continued to play.
The Wrath of God fell upon that sinful place, and in a single hour,
all of its inhabitants (with the exception of the hundreds of young girls
and boys who were darting towards the sea, terrified) had died in
fearful agonies. The survivors left the island that very night, carried by
guards in speedboats to the mainland.
And like that, the world had learned about the city of the dead, or
the Paradise for The Elderly. Gripped in fear, the local authorities
blocked the television and the internet, ordering the arrest of all those
who escaped from the island. But in spite of the measures taken by
the officials, rumors kept on spreading across the country, giving the
jitters to the population. The yellow trucks continued to spray perfume
over the city and, and apart from the noise they were making, no
other sound could be heard.
Jacob Kohner went to his room and started to read the Bible.
 The End of The World

The authorities’ efforts to conceal the Isle of the Dead were futile.
The obnoxious stench paralyzed the city, and every person sought to
remain indoors, to take baths and to perfume their body. Nobody
roamed the streets anymore. In the end, the Isle of the Dead became
the hottest news on TV.
The government ordered urgent measures in order to avoid
contamination of the population, therefore, several military units were
dispatched on the island to disinfect the place and dispose of the
corpses. Since the incineration of such a large number of bodies
would have implied a huge expense, the corpses were simply thrown
into the sea and were soon eaten by fish. Then, helicopters
disinfected the entire island from above.
Although officials had claimed they knew nothing about the
mysterious Paradise of The Elderly, the buildings and all the goods
on the island were confiscated by the state. The Ministry of Tourism
declared that the island would be transformed into a tourist attraction,
and some politicians even claimed that the buildings should be
converted into schools and universities. Others considered that the
island was the most appropriate place to build free asylums.
Nobody discussed about the mysterious death of the islanders
anymore since everyone debated the problem of ownership for the
goods found there. They all wanted to own them. Fear on the one
hand, and the desire to be rich on the other caused people not to talk
about the dead.
The rebellion of the commoners condemned to die at the age of
sixty-five against those who eluded the law by building their safe
haven on the island was no longer justified; all those whom they were
supposed to envy and against whom they should revolt were now
dead. And their death had been so dreadful that it somehow aroused
pity.
Well, it’s best it ended this way, some said, From now on,
nobody will ever dare to break the law...
On the same night, Jacob Kohner’s computer got hacked. He
struggled to reboot the machine all night long but to no avail. Big red
letters flooded the black screen:
THE END OF THE WORLD IS HERE!
The message reappeared every ten seconds in every possible
language:
КОНЕЦ CBETA - HACTAЛ!
¡EL FINAL DEL MUNDO ESTÁ AQUÍ!
...
The situation started to become annoying for Jacob Kohner who
couldn’t even turn off the computer anymore. As if on purpose, the
machine started playing Hava Nagila louder and louder. Losing his
patience, Jacob smashed the computer to the ground, though the
song could still be heard playing in the neighboring apartments.
Resigned, Jacob turned on the TV. All the channels were
discussing the unprecedented virus that had attacked the global
banking system. In almost every major city, at a time when cash no
longer existed, street clashes broke out between the law
enforcements and the citizens who couldn’t use their credit cards
anymore. The access to each individual’s database had been
blocked, and the borders between countries had been shut down. For
fear of remaining without supplies, people stormed the stores and the
shopping centers. In the course of a few hours, as a result of the
street clashes and of the general chaos, two million people lost their
lives, their number growing by the minute.
Jacob picked up the phone and called Vik.
“Hello, Vik?”
“Yes, Jacob! Nice to hear you...”
“Listen, are you watching the news?”
“No. Why?”
“The end of the world is here...”
“Have you been drinking, Jacob?”
 “No, listen to me. My computer got hacked... A stupid virus... I
keep getting the message: THE END OF THE WORLD IS HERE! in
all the languages. And it’s singing Hava Nagila...”
“Weird... did you make a backup?”
“How? It’s everywhere around the world! All the computers have
been attacked... The Banks can’t scan their cards anymore, the
borders have been shut down... There are two-million dead... There’s
war on the streets... Don’t you watch the news at all?!”
“No... I just woke up... Wait, I’ll take a look now... Oh... Yes, I see...
God Forbid!”
“What’s the situation at your place? Are people chanting in the
streets? Do you hear noises?”
“Not really... it’s quiet... Although I hear Hava Nagila from my
neighbors... what madness!”
“Vik! We need to meet...”
“Well… let’s meet...”
“But how are we going to avoid the crowd? The TV says that the
people took to the streets...”
“I don’t see anything... it’s too early... Maybe because we’re on a
different time zone...”
“Yes, you’re probably right. The city is still sleeping.”
“I’ll come to you, Jacob. What is your address again?”
“The Revolution Street, corner with Independence Street.”
“Alright, I’ll be waiting for you at the entrance. I’m off.”
“Ok, Vik, please hurry...”
Vik made use of the shortcuts he knew as a taxi driver to reach
the city as fast as possible. However, it seemed that the city was
unaware of what was happening on TV since its streets were empty.
But perhaps the people, afraid that they could die crushed in the
crowd, remained indoors. Jacob, who was waiting for his friend at the
corner of his apartment building, hurried to the car and opened the
door almost on the move. Throwing himself clumsily on the back seat,
he started to talk, gasping:
“Damn it! I feel like a large mob is going to appear out of nowhere
and trample me to death...”
“There is no one in the streets, Jacob... Maybe they’re just
manipulating us, trying to distract our attention from the city of the
dead and all the other government scams...”
“I don’t know... They showed large crowds in the streets on TV,
millions of dead...”
“I don’t trust anyone anymore. They did the same trick back in
2012. And a lot of people died then, fearing the end of the world
would come. I can’t believe that people became so easy to
manipulate. Sometimes I feel like half of the mankind would jump off
the balcony if they were ordered to.”
“I don’t know what to say, Vik… I’m terribly frightened. I feel like
taking my own life too…”
“Suicide is a sin.”
“Ha! A sin? But living like this isn’t?”
“What are you talking about, Jacob? Calm down. Weren’t you the
one trying to convince me to believe in happiness?”
“Come on… That was on the blog. Maybe I was trying to convince
myself that life is worth living! Have you ever asked yourself how I
live?! Or how I feel?! Did you know that I keep postponing my suicide
every day, trying to convince myself that I live for the next sunrise?! A
sunrise that I always miss because of the damn internet... Is this the
happiness you’re proposing me, Vik?”
Jacob covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. Vik
was now driving towards the suburbs, skillfully maneuvering the car
on deserted alleys that Jacob never knew existed.
In his forty years of life, Jacob Kohner walked very little. The
thought that he was different from everyone else made him run away
from the world which he considered guilty for all the bad things that
were happening to him. The only place where he felt free was the
internet, but even that turned out to be a lie now.
When the sobbing ended, Vik turned his head and looked at
Jacob’s red face.
“Do you feel better now?”
“Yes… I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok. Perhaps I do understand you, or at least I’m trying to.
Otherwise, why would you still be in my car, right?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t worry, I have my own moments of despair too. I think
everybody has them sometimes. One doesn’t have to be in your
situation to despair…”
“Probably. But sometimes I feel like I’m the unhappiest person in
the world.”
“Unhappiness, like happiness, cannot be measured.”
“I guess you’re right…”
Jacob didn’t even notice when the car had left the city. The clear
sky and the green fields made him feel that everything he had lived
up until that point had been just a nightmare.
“Where are we going?” he asked, after a moment's reflection.
“To my place,” answered Vik.
Jacob didn’t say anything but continued to gaze through the
window.
“May I open the window?” he asked, timid.
“Sure,” replied Vik.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, really beautiful.”
“The sunrise must be splendid here…”
“It is…”
“The sunset too…”
“The sunset too.”
The car stopped in front of a metallic gate. Vik stepped out of the
car and opened the gate, then drove the car inside the courtyard. A
small stone house covered by cherry and apricot trees appeared
before them. Vik unlocked the door and invited his guest inside.
“This is where I live,” said Vik.
“Very beautiful… Why did people have to invent cities?”
Jacob’s question didn’t get an answer since Vik was too busy
locking the door from the inside. Actually, Jacob already knew the
answer to his question. The smell of home cooked food filled the air.
“Come in,” said Vik.
“Your place is beautiful!” exclaimed Jacob, looking around,
amazed.
“Thank you. It’s old, but it’s home. I didn’t want to live in the city.”
“The city is a real hell.”
“The only reason I go to the city is to earn money. If I could do it
here, in the countryside, I would never leave my village.”
 An old lady greeted them in the kitchen. She had just set the table
and was waiting for them.
“This is my mother, Mary. He’s my friend, Jacob. I told you about
him. His mother passed away two days ago.”
“Oh, yes. I’m very sorry. I mean, I’m happy to meet you, but I am
sorry for your mother.”
The woman stretched out her frail hand to Jacob, and with the
other one, she grabbed him by his shoulder.
“Have you been close to your mother?” she asked.
“In a way… I mean… I wish I had been closer… I mean we were
close… We never argued, but we rarely saw each other, especially in
the last years…”
“She was taken to the nursing home…” intervened Vik.
“Yes… because of the cursed law… She was taken there, and I’ve
only seen her once in the last three years. And two days ago, I
received a notification that she had passed away… I mean was
killed… I’m sorry, but I consider this law unethical…”
“It is, actually. Everybody considers it unethical, but nobody does
anything about it…”
“That’s true,” said Jacob, ashamed, “We are all cowards. We
should be more courageous. I believe that, if we are courageous
enough, we can make a change.”
“Absolutely,” replied the old lady then turned to Vik, “Alexander,
wash your hands and come to the table.”
Jacob regarded her with a puzzled expression, then he
remembered that Vik’s real name was Alexander. The two friends
washed their hands and took a sit at the table. Jacob glanced at the
lady every now and then. His face reflected a perplexity that he
couldn’t hide.
“If you wish to say something, say it,” the woman invited Jacob,
not at all bothered by his curiosity, “Don’t worry. Feel at home…”
“Oh, I’m sorry… I was just thinking… Don’t get me wrong… How
old are you, ma’am?”
“Hm, I knew you were thinking about that. Seventy-eight in a few
months,” the lady smiled.
“That’s impossible!”
 “And yet it’s reality. My son and I decided that we would live as
long as God allows us. This is our way of protesting against their
laws.”
“But…”
“Alexander will tell you all about it later. Won’t you, Alex?”
“Sure, Mom.”
“Now, let’s eat!”
“It looks very tasty…” remarked Jacob, hungry as a bear.
“Thank you. It’s Alex’s favorite dish.”
“What do you think about the end of the world?” asked Jacob, his
mouth full, “Do you think it’s near?”
“The end of the world is already here,” answered the woman.
After they had finished eating, the woman brought tea. Jacob was
gazing through the window at the blooming cherry tree, wondering
what it would have been like if his mother was still alive. He blamed
himself for not having enough courage to face the world. He needed
to change his life, and he needed to do it from that very day.
Jacob Kohner wanted to do something that would provoke people
and defy the laws, the police and the government, but he had no idea
what exactly. He realized that, at his age, he had never protested
against anything in his life, not even against his own parents. Well, he
did protest once on the internet, when he dared to oppose his
interlocutor, but that was abstract therefore it didn’t count. He
suppressed all his frustration, and that suffocated him during the
nights when he couldn’t sleep. Now, however, he decided he’d
change his life, at least that was his intention while gazing through
the window at the cherry tree outside.
 Conversation at The Gym

Two days before the wrath of God fell upon the Paradise of The
Elderly, Lord Richard was at the fitness center together with His
Holiness Agathanghel. It was a five-minute walk from His Holiness’
residence to the gym, but at eighty-four years old, His Holiness would
complete the distance in twenty minutes. After going down the marble
steps, he took a left on the little pathway paved with red granite,
which was so narrow that only two men walking arm in arm could fit
in. The path, designed by the island’s architects, descended among
wild cliffs on top of which exotic trees and bushes were planted.
Aided by his servant, His Holiness made this journey on a daily basis,
showing the same olden detachment he showed when taking his pills
and receiving his doctor’s visits.
In fact, all the pathways in the Paradise of The Elderly were
conceived as curative remedies which included easy uphills and
downhills, in order to get the blood running for the old farts obsessed
with extending their lifespan as much as possible.
“I’m done,” said Lord Richard gasping, signaling to his homeboy
to help him get off the bike. “I’m going for a whisky. Will Your Holiness
keep me company?”
“One more minute!” puffed His Holiness.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a minute more or less, you’ll die anyway,
ha-ha! My grandpa never exercised, and he lived ninety-four years.
But he drank whisky!” joked the Lord, wiping his sweaty face and
tossing his footman the dirty towel.
“Alright, you convinced me,” gasped heavily His Holiness, getting
off the bike by himself, “I’ll continue later...”
“I’ve always been impressed by your zeal, Your Holiness! I’m sure
that for this one minute that you offer me, you’ll punish yourself at
home later. I hope that you won’t flagellate yourself. Ha-ha!”
 “You’ve always been a pig, my lord,” replied His Holiness,
showing his disapproval against Lord Richard’s joke.
“Come on, don’t get upset now, you know that I like to joke
around!”
“Jokes can be various. I prefer the good ones.”
“Wow, wow! I thought that you’ve got used to my British humor!
But alright, I can refrain myself in front of a cleric, ha-ha!”
The Lord burst into laughter and clapped His Holiness on the
shoulder so hard that the cleric had to take a few steps backs not to
fall.
“If you do this again, I won’t drink with you anymore! I told you
how annoying you are when you push me like that... You’re acting like
a schoolboy!”
“Forgive me, Your Holiness... I forgot that you don’t like to be
pushed around... Ha, ha!”
His Holiness Agathanghel didn’t fancy the old Lord’s dirty jokes at
all. He also despised him for being a homosexual. He always had the
impression that the Lord was hitting on him. But because he had no
other friends, His Holiness spent his time in the company of this
loudmouth and pervert geezer. Truthfully speaking, the Lord was also
serious and kind at times, especially when discussing about
diplomatic issues. He would do this after a blunder, wanting to
convince everyone that he had another side too. At dinners, he
behaved flawlessly, always leaving a good impression to those who
didn’t know him closely. In general, and apart from their old age
grumpiness, the people from the Paradise of the Elderly always acted
as if they had something to hide. His Holiness, accustomed to being
acclaimed by the faithful who would rush to kiss his hands and robes,
was now suffering from loneliness and was glad to share his time
even with a nasty pervert like Lord Richard.
“Your Holiness, I have long wanted to ask you,” said the Lord in a
ministerial tone, while putting ice in his glass of whisky, “What is your
opinion about the end of the world?”
“Must I have an opinion?”
“Well, as a cleric, you must have studied the problem more
closely.”
 “Allow me to sit down. Or would you like me to speak while I am
standing?”
“Oh, of course... Forgive me, I thought that courtesies have no
sense between old friends... Also, help yourself with as much whisky
as you like... Ice from here…”
His Holiness poured the drink in his glass then sat down
comfortably in the armchair.
“The Church does not have a clear answer to this matter. It is a
mystery that only God knows...”
“Oh, come on! Even I know the no one knows the day nor the
hour saying. I just want to know where you stand. Don’t tell me you
have never thought about it, or that you don’t have a personal
opinion... I hope there is nothing ‘anticanonical’ in having an opinion
about the end of the world.”
“It depends...”
“It depends on what?”
“Listen, Richard, you know I don’t like to philosophize. Did you call
me to have a drink together or to lock horns again?”
“Oh, no! I just wanted to have a discussion. If you like, I could tell
you my opinion about the end of the world.”
His Holiness sipped his drink and put the glass on the table. Then
he signaled to the apprentice:
“Bring me a fruit salad. You already know what it must contain.
Then you’re free to go to the swimming pool or to the gym. You’re
dismissed until I finish my conversation with Lord Richard.”
The Lord emptied his glass then poured himself another.
“In my opinion, Your Holiness, the very idea of the world ending
has benefited us greatly...”
“Us?! Us who, exactly?”
“Us, Your Holiness... you know very well who I’m talking about... It
benefited us and gave us a broad working front.”
“I’m not sure I understand you...”
“O, but you do understand me very well. The World Government
would not have been possible if the Bible hadn’t talked about the end
of the world. Do you see? We too read the Bible...”
“You read it to your own liking,” replied His Holiness, displeased.
 “It doesn’t matter; what’s important is that people believe in the
Bible. And this faith of theirs is so strong, that no plan regarding
humanity can be achieved unless it follows the Bible. One must
manipulate people into believing that the Bible fulfills itself during their
lifetime and that any resistance is futile. Isn’t the end of the world a
fatality? Does it matter when and how will it be? Christianity caused
people to be more concerned with the end of the world than with their
own end. And we knew best how to use this anxiety of the end to our
advantage. And do you know what we did? We staged the end of the
world before God decided it. The end of the world is our creation!
Look at what has become of the world in the last forty years! We
reduced the world population from seven billion to only two! Can you
convince me that this is not the end?”
“I can.”
“Oh, sure! Are you going to tell me that we were nothing but blind
tools in the hand of God? Why not! Maybe your God was also a
member of the British Parliament half a century ago, when the initial
project about population reduction was carried out! Or perhaps God
invisibly partook in our secret meetings and whispered us how to
create viruses and to provoke earthquakes that would kill people by
the tens of millions? Have you experienced at least once the
satisfaction of having preceded God, of having ruined His divine
plans? Know this, Your Holiness, the devil is formidably accurate
because, by knowing God’s plans with the world, he always precedes
Him. And you, you, you, you Christians were our most efficient tool
when we massacred humanity! You convinced them that everything is
a fatality, that any resistance is in vain! And even more, you
convinced everyone that everything happens by God’s will! Everyone
except me and those like me who know that all the evil in the world is
the work of the Devil!”
“You’re a liar!” snapped His Holiness, wanting to jump out of the
armchair. Same as your father, the Devil!”
“The Devil is fair! He always plays by the rules. It’s true though, he
does make his own rules. But do you know what your fault is, Your
Holiness?”
“I don’t want to continue this conversation!”
 “Oh, but you must,” replied the Lord in a rasping tone, drinking
down his glass, “Your mistake is that you like to live by the rules. Your
entire life is made up of rules, rules, rules! Although, frankly speaking,
no matter how harsh and categorical they are, rules make up a game.
A sad or happy game, depending on who plays it. And the Devil is a
player! And like any other player, when he doesn’t cheat, he knows
how to use the rules of his opponent in his favor... By the way, Your
Holiness, do you think that the Devil is an opponent or a partner?”
“You’re crossing the line, Lord Richard! I gave all my life to Christ,
fighting against the Devil...”
“It was a rhetoric question, my friend... I know that you are a
bishop, but I like to tease you.”
“I think it’s time for me to leave...”
“Drink your glass and relax, Your Holiness. Look at me! I’m
pouring another one, because it’s good for me. Aren’t you tired of
living a lie? You know what I think of sometimes? I think that I’ll die
without having said what I think. I’m an old mason, and I believe that I
served my creed with devotion. But just hear me out...”
“All right... Let’s say you made me curious,” said His Holiness,
emptying his glass and sitting back in the armchair.
“I told you that the Devil is a fair player, which means he always
plays by the rules. It’s true that he always comes up with new rules,
but never without his opponent’s approval. Your Holiness, have you
ever accepted the Devil’s rules?”
“I’m confused... Are you asking me if I’ve sinned or not? I sinned,
of course, like every human, I am fallible, but I don’t believe that I’ve
ever played the Devil’s game... It would be too much...”
“And I’m telling you this: just the fact that you’re here, means
you’re playing his game.”
“That’s enough! You are insulting me, Lord Richard! I’ve always
been an honest man; I never caused any harm to anybody!”
“Didn’t you?”
“God is my witness!”
“Then tell me, Your Holiness, why are you here, on this island full
of tyrants, corrupts and hypocrites?”
“I am carrying out my ministry! Should all these people be
deprived of the Church, of the chance to repent and to return to
God?”
“You’re fooling yourself, Your Holiness. Why don’t you admit that
you’re here because you’re afraid of death, that you bribed to hide,
while your faithful are out there, dying euthanized at age sixty-five?”
“This law is an injustice! People must live as long as God intended
them!”
“Oh! How I love listening to you speak, Your Holiness! I really do!
But why are you telling me this here and now, and why didn’t you
protest back when you were the bishop of the official church? Why
had the Church remained silent when the debates around this law, a
law which undoubtedly is a demonic one, were being carried out?
Yes, demonic! The Church was quiet, and with it, you were quiet too,
Your Holiness! And do you know why? Because you yourselves
joined the devil’s game! And he proved to be a better player than all
of you!”
His Holiness reached for the bottle, but the Lord got ahead.
“Allow me... It is my pleasure.”
“Thank you...”
“So, strictly speaking, we bear the same guilt before God, Your
Holiness. We killed together hundreds of millions of people. Me and
those like me proposed a law of the devil, and you and those like you
have accepted it. A fair game, I must say, don’t you think?”
“God knows I didn’t want this. But my opinion doesn’t matter,
anyway. Everything is decided by the Holy Synod… I alone can’t do
anything…”
“You’re an extraordinary man, You Holiness, indeed you are! Let
me pour it for you...”
“Thank you...”
“Please, tell me the I didn't want to create confusion, and that is
why I didn’t go against the Holy Synod thing again, ha-ha! It’s all a
game, Your Holiness, which you’re playing it with all your heart! When
was the last time you read the Bible, Your Holiness?”
“What kind of question is this?! I read it often... even yesterday...”
“I read it too. I admit that I didn’t understand much, but I retained
some moments that impressed me. Do you remember the temptation
scene?”
“Of course!”
 “And how did the Devil tempt Jesus?”
“What do you mean how? With bread... with richness... with vain
glory...”
“No, Your Holiness, you don’t understand.”
“Then you tell me...”
“With the Bible, Your Holiness! With the Bible! How did the Devil
begin the temptation?”
“It is written...”
“And how did Jesus respond?”
“With verses from the Scripture, of course... Oh, I see...,” realized
the bishop, surprised that he had never thought about it before.
“This is what we understood, and you didn’t! For example, what
did the Church think of the legalization of gay marriages? You know
very well, but you never protested, even if the whole Bible is against
it! It was enough for us to quote the verses Don't judge and you will
not be judged, or God is Love to convince you that you have the Bible
on your side… Even though we both knew very well that all is a lie,
that it’s nothing more than a game of the devil! A game that you
accepted and cannot get out of anymore... You do err, not knowing
the Scriptures, your Holiness! I believe this reply sounds familiar as
well, doesn’t it?”
“Enough of that...”
“It’s Christ’s reply! And whom was it given to? To the Scholars and
the Pharisees! To those who read the Scripture on a daily basis, to
those just like you! But they didn’t understand anything from it... The
Devil, your Holiness, understood the Scripture and used it against
you all!”
“Whatever you say, Richard... I don’t understand you, anyway... I
just came here to drink whisky...”
“Let me pour for you...”
“Yes, thank you... you are a gentleman...”
“Eh, an old mason...”
“Come, come… I know you want to make me despair, but it won’t
happen. Should anyone listen to you, they would think that the Devil
himself wrote the Bible,” replied the bishop, stumbling over his
tongue.
 “I didn’t say that. Did the Devil use the Bible against all of? I agree
to that.”
“You’re shuffling the words around, Lord Richard.”
“I like this game!”
“It is a dangerous game...”
“Not as dangerous as the one you’re playing, Your Holiness.”
“You’re playing for the Devil’s side”
“The Devil is a fair player.”
“I don’t want to discuss it. I must go...”
Disturbed, the bishop stood up and called for his servant. His
head was dizzy from the booze, so he went to the dressing room,
swaying a little. He was troubled and couldn’t find his words. He
wanted God to do something, to cast punishment over all those who
were talking with such arrogance against Him. But God was silent.
That night, His Holiness fell asleep late, after a heartbreaking fight
with his thoughts. He felt lonely and helpless. He had no idea that
God would fulfill his prayer two days later, transforming the Paradise
of The Elderly into a land of the death...
 To Die Crushed by The Crowd

The Deputy Inspector General of the General Inspectorate for

Emergency Situations received orders to mobilize two fire trucks in
the city central square. Three hours had passed since the crowds,
rattled by the TV news, had been chanting in front of the Bank and
the City Hall. The people were in despair because their credit and
debit cards had been blocked. The apocalyptic virus had attacked all
the computers, and nobody could guarantee that the database could
ever be restored again. Moreover, an unverified rumor stated that the
Bank manager himself had died.
The same atmosphere reigned in all the cities of the country. The
interim President declared a state of emergency, but neither the Army
nor the Police were prepared to face such a situation. The Secret
Commission, gathered in the National Hotel, was well under way.
“Everything is going according to plan, and we cannot afford any
mistakes that could jeopardize it,” the interim President confronted
the Ministry of Health, who had just exposed his concern regarding a
possible epidemic outbreak caused by the growing number of dead
bodies.
“Mr. President, we are not prepared to face such a situation...”
“Mr. Minister, please have faith. Everything is planned down to the
smallest details.”
“If that is the case, in the next two days, we’ll have roughly twenty-
five thousand deaths on the streets of major cities’, and roughly ten
thousand in the small and middle towns. Can you imagine what this
means? We have no places in our morgues for so many dead bodies!
An epidemic is inevitable!”
“But who said that all those corpses are to be placed in the
morgue? It is an unnecessary expense of money and human
resource. Our agents had taken the necessary measures long before
the unfolding of the events. Holes that can accommodate up to ten
thousand corpses had been excavated at all exits of the cities under
the pretext of building car complexes or shopping centers. Because
all those lots are below the street level, the projects involve a
significant lift of the platform, which means that the companies
owning them will pay for the service. In addition, our crematories
have the capacity to incinerate up to ten thousand corpses a day.”
“But has anybody thought about the time needed to transport
such a large number of corpses?”
“Mr. Minister, all our forces will be directed to this purpose. We
have the Army trucks, the cars of the Ministry of Health, the
firefighters, the garbage trucks, in one word, everything! But I believe
you are preoccupied with things beyond your responsibilities, Mr.
Minister! Let us allow the General Inspector for Emergency Situations
to handle all these pure technical details...”
“Mr. President,” the General Inspector for Emergency Situations
stepped in, “What are the main objectives?”
“We have a plan of 180,000-200,000 deaths for our country. If this
number is reached, then the main objective has been achieved, and
we will enjoy the support of the World Government.”
“We will be accused of using force against the civil population,
and we will not be able to fight against that…”
“You don’t understand, Mr. General Inspector! This is precisely our
problem, not to use force. Our mission is to make the people kill each
other.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible... It is a number far too great... I
mean… are we to create the premises of a civil war? But there are no
leaders nor opposite sides... Our society has long surpassed any
feeling of adhering to a group. The once fanatics capable to die for an
idea have long disappeared...”
“For an idea no, but for money, yes!” the President cut him short.
The General Inspector opened a bottle of water and poured it in
his glass.
“To my knowledge, money doesn’t exist anymore,” he continued,
with the expression of a man who wants to understand but couldn’t.
“Precisely the reason why we have blocked the database. Since
there is a shortage of cash and the vast majority of population doesn’t
have it, only gold and large assets are of value. The plebs have
nothing.”
“I’m surprised to even see these rallies organized in front of the
banks. What can the banks do anyway? Their money was only virtual
money. Nobody will give them real money in exchange for some
blocked cards...”
“In crisis, people commit thoughtless actions, so our mission is to
‘suggest’ them the actions that they must undertake.”
“We must provoke street clashes, although I find it difficult to see
how we could divide the crowds and organize them in opposing
parties. Protesters have a common purpose, and their common
enemy right now is the Bank, even the system, I dare say.”
The Inspector sipped from his glass, trying to attenuate the
severity of the situation. Then he added:
“There was a time when crowds would rebel against authorities.
We no longer live in that world... And that is not our objective here...”
“Mr. General Inspector, everything is foreseen in the plan that we
must follow. We’re not inventing facts, we simply execute! If you’d
please be patient enough to listen without interrupting me, we could
finish faster...”
“Excuse me, Mr. President...”
“The televisions will entertain the revolt,” continued The President,
“The people must remain in the streets all night long. The goal is to
starve and disorientate them by tomorrow, when we commence the
operation. We must not give them any hope!”
The Minister for Food and Water, who had been listening
attentively all this time, demanded his right to intervene.
“Go ahead, Minister...”
“Mr. President,” he started, looking for his words, “I suspect that...
the incineration of such a great number of corpses... is an expense
that cannot be covered...”
“If we achieve our objectives, we will receive funds to cover
everything.”
“Why not use them as feedstock? My slaughterhouses... they can
process hundreds of tons of meat per day. It will be even faster than
the crematorium... We could... provide the common herd with cold
cuts for at least half a year... not to mention that it would be a hell of a
business...”
The President listened until the end and then, turning towards the
Inspector, replied loud enough for the entire gathering to hear him:
“This is not part of the plan, Minister! Without cold meats, this
time.”
The Minister sat down, embarrassed. His entire being resembled
a teenager whom a dance with the love of his life had just been
refused.
In the main square, the number of people gathering in the streets
was growing with each passing hour. The news channels were
broadcasting live the situation from every major city across the
country. Analysts and political commentators were making
apocalyptic predictions, announcing hunger, pillages and epidemics
resulting in people unable to buy, travel and pay for medical services.
Panic drove the crowds out of their homes and into the streets.
Armed with banners and flags, they were chanting: We want our
money back! Banks are thieves! and many like that. The noise was
so loud and the confusion so big that nobody could hear anybody.
Towards evening, the City Hall had installed speakers, and
everyone who wished could talk into the microphone for the whole
square to hear. Several speeches followed, interrupted by whistles
and rumblings of discontent. In the end, music started playing, and
the entire square became a giant discotheque. Torches were burning
underneath the chestnut trees, and nothing predicted the wrath that
would follow the next day.

You lied to me!

Nonsense! I never lied to you!
Yes, you have! You’ve been hiding the truth from me all this time!
I don’t want to talk about it anymore!

With his last powers, a young man in a red shirt was struggling to
push away the huddled masses that was stampeding towards him.

Don’t push! Get back, you’re suffocating me! Don’t push! Let me
out! Don’t push!
The doors and the large store windows of the Building Complex were
smashed, and thousands of people burst inside. The noise of
scattered boxes and broken shelves was engulfed by the cries of the
crowd. Joy and despair were mixing together in one single wave,
annihilating all that was human.

Make way! I must get out!

Don’t push!
Get back!
Stop pushing!

Squashed between the wall and a fruit shelf, the young man with
the red shirt was suffocating under the warm and heavy bodies that
were collapsing on him. A middle-aged woman stuck her elbows on
his chest and was screaming her head off:

Don’t push me! Let me out! Don’t push I said!

Stop pushing!
Make way!
Let us out!
Somebody’s dying!
Move out of the way!
Stop pushing!

The young man with the red shirt felt a terrible burn in his chest.
His legs were flailing, and he could barely stand. With his dying
breath, he pushed aside the woman who was crushing his chest.
When she tried to scream, he grabbed her face and punched her
mouth and nose until the blood filled his hand, as if that was the last
thing he could do for his salvation.
You lied to me! he kept shouting, while pushing aside people’s
faces with his bloody hands.
You have all lied to me! You’re all a bunch of liars!
At the same time, a terrible blow came out of the blue and hit him
hard in the ear, then in the mouth, and then in his eyes. Knocked to
the ground, he covered his head with his hands, blood filling his
mouth. His lips were burning and started to swell. The smell of sweat
made the air even harder to breathe. Clutching his hand in the hair of
the attacker, the young man began to vomit, then suddenly leaned
forward, spreading his arms like a pair of wings.

“You lied to me.”

“I have never lied to you.”
“I saw you hiding with him behind the school.”
“We’re just friends. Our parents get along very well.”
“He loves you.”
“If you want, I’ll never speak to him anymore!”
“I brought you some candies.”
“I thought about what I want to be when I grow up.”
“What?”
“A doctor.”
“I’ll be a doctor, too.”
“I thought you wanted to become a pilot.”
“A doctor, to be close to you all the time.”
“We’ll be together!”
“And we won’t ever break up!”
“Never!”

The cries were covered by the deafening sirens of the fire trucks, and
a few minutes later, the powerful water jets burst in through the
broken windows. Those who jumped outside were swept off their feet
while crying in despair. Men in orange overalls dragged the inert
bodies and threw them in the lined trucks like garbage bags.

Make way!
Move aside!

Those who managed to escape with their lives from the shop fled
away to their homes, carrying whatever they could get their hands on.
The next morning, the government had issued a statement, informing
the citizens that they could pick up the necessary food supplies from
the commercial centers, all the damages being covered by the state.
The crowds took the great commercial centers by storm, trampling
each other and devastating everything in the way. Meanwhile, the
news showed images of the young and the old coming out of the
supermarkets, carrying bags of food and thanking the government for
the help.
The April night air blended with the smell of gasoline left behind
by trucks that had come in and out of the city. Early in the morning,
the bulldozers and the excavators covered the pile of corpses from
which moans and cries for help could still be heard. While the soldiers
were discarding the bodies from the trucks in the pit, the General
Inspector for Emergency Situations and the Health Minister were
watching everything from an ambulance.
“Do you know what I’m thinking, Minister?” asked the General
Inspector.
“No,” replied the Minister, inhaling the smoke of the cigarette that
he had just lit.
“I’m thinking about what makes us so special not to be a corpse in
that pile.”
The Minister exhaled, and the smoke filled the cabin.
“And what is that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a special Providence from God, or maybe,
because we had the chance to be part of a different species...”
“Do you believe in God, Inspector?”
“If I believe in God?” repeated the Inspector, surprised by the
question, “I don’t know... But I believe that if God had existed, He
should’ve prevented everything that is happening now.”
The Minister took a drag on his cigarette and didn’t answer. The
Inspector was confused and couldn’t understand why the Minister
had asked him that question. Was it because he too believed in God,
or was it just to verify if he himself believed in God? He also couldn’t
figure out if the Minister assented to the massacre or not. In the
silence that followed, only the sound of dead bodies dropping like
some heavy bags could be heard. The Minister opened the window
and shook off the ash of his cigarette.
“I do believe in God, Inspector,” said the Minister, staring at the
heap of corpses. I do, otherwise, why have these thousands of
people here been born? Wouldn’t it be too absurd? I believe there’s
an eternal reward, Inspector, and that everything has a meaning
which us, humans, cannot change because we don’t understand it...”
“And I would rather live here, on earth, than die with the hope of a
future reward,” replied the Inspector, somehow amused by the
situation.
“Really? Well, behold! You live here, Inspector! Why aren’t you
happy?”
“I am happy...” replied the Inspector, in a reflective mood. “Do you
have any more cigarettes?”
“Here... Let me tell you a story... Mind if I ditch the formality?”
asked the Minister, in a mood to chat.
“Not, not at all... Formality tires me too. There is enough tension
as it is.”
“I will tell you a story which has haunted me all of my life, even
since the very moment I heard it. I was a boy, and my grandfather,
who was a verger at the village church, told me how he had lost his
faith in God. During the famine that Stalin provoked in Moldavia,
when people hid their children fearing their neighbors might eat them,
we heard of barrels filled with molasses dumped in pits located in the
fields around Chernivtsi. Molasses is a product which results from
refining sugar beets into sugar. Hundreds of Moldavians set out on
foot for Chernivtsi, like for a place of Redemption, except that after
they had jumped in those pits, they died; they died because they ate
in haste. Before jumping in, they took off their clothes so as not to
stain them. Hunger made them forget about shame. Women and men
had jumped together in the pits, and their naked bodies remained
there forever. My grandfather, who was only a child at the time, didn’t
jump in the hole and lived. But what he saw then caused him to lose
his faith in God. Earlier today, when I saw those people in the
supermarkets, I remembered this story. We haven’t changed a bit,
Inspector.”
“Let’s get out of here! I believe our job here is done,” said the
Inspector, shuddered by the story.
“Agee... let’s go.”
The Minister would have wanted to say something more but
remained silent. It was almost dawn, and the mist was rising above
the freshly ransacked earth. Gazing through the half-opened window
of the ambulance, the Minister thought for a moment to open the door
and jump out, but instead, he lit a cigarette and smoked it in silence.
The Inspector asked for one too.
“Have you taken up smoking, Inspector?”
“No, but you tempted me...”
“I see,” the Minister smiled knowingly.
“A cup of coffee would do now.”
“Indeed, a cup of coffee would be just fine.”
 The April Sun

As usual, Jacob Kohner woke up late, bothered by the warm April

sun. The blooming cherry tree outside his window reminded him that
he was not at his home. He slept like a log and was now feeling fresh
and full of positive energy. There was no sign of the disturbance from
the previous day, as though his whole past had been erased the
moment his computer had been hacked. He got out of bed and gazed
through the window at the cherry tree, absorbed in his thoughts.
Never before had he seen a cherry tree so close.
“What a sunny day! We’ll have a beautiful Easter this year!” the
old lady’s voice sounded from the kitchen.
“Indeed. Last year was colder,” said Vik.
“But Easter was earlier too...”
Jacob came to his sense, made the bed, and hurried to the
kitchen. It was inappropriate to continue sleeping while the
homeowners had been long awake.
“Good morning...”
“Oh! Good Morning, Jacob! How did you sleep? Here’s some
coffee, it’s still warm...”
“Thank you. I slept very well. Oh! The coffee tastes great!”
“My mother made it. She’s got coffee down to a fine art,” said Vik
proudly, getting up and kissing the old lady on her forehead.
“Come, come! Sit! Making coffee is not a big deal!”
“Yes, it is! I always get it wrong!”
“You get it wrong because you never do it! You’ve always been a
poke!” the old lady joked, bonking Vik on the head.
“I noticed you have cherry trees!” said Jacob in a courteous
manner, “They’re blooming so beautifully!”
“We have apricots, too. Alexander’s father, my late husband,
planted them. He loved trees, especially when they bloomed. It is a
splendor! I always think of him when I watch the trees blooming...”
“You must have loved him very much...”
“I still do... He died in an accident. May the Lord forgive him! I
remained a widow when I was still young... Alex, pour Jacob some
more coffee, will you? Have some cookies, too...”
Silence suddenly filled the room. The old lady had gotten lost in
her thoughts, making Jacob feel sorry for the question he had asked.
Vik stood up and opened the window. The fresh air flooded the
kitchen, carrying the perfume of the flowers inside.
“Why don’t you tell us something about you, Jacob? Alexander
had told me a lot of beautiful things...” the old lady broke the silence.
“There’s nothing special about me...”
“Come on, don’t be shy!”
Jacob didn’t know what to answer and remained quiet.
“Oh well, if you wish not to tell us about you, dear, tell us about
your parents instead... Your mother... How was she?”
“My mother was an extraordinary woman... And so was my
father... I regret not having learned more from them...”
“Parents are always a fountain of wisdom.”
Jacob got up without saying a word and went to the coat hanger,
where his backpack was hanging. He rummaged in it and pulled out a
book.
“My mother left me this,” he said, placing the Bible on the table,
“She wrote me that whenever I wish to talk to her, I should read from
this book. It’s a Bible...”
“Really? Your mother was a Christian?”
“Kind of... She got baptized at the nursing home. I have a letter
too. Her last letter. In fact, it’s the only one. It’s the most beautiful
letter. It changed my life. I had no idea that my mother had loved me
so much... I always thought that she loved my older brother more...”
“You have an older brother?! Oh, I see...” the old lady excused
herself, looking at Jacob’s big body.
“His name is Raul, but he’s in Israel now. He left many years ago,
and I’ve never heard from him since...”
“That’s sad. But your mother was baptized at the nursing home,
you say? Very interesting...”
 “Yes... Look, she wrote it here... She met there some father called
John. He gave her the Bible. Now, the Bible is with me... I’ve started
reading it...”
“Father John? From the Euthanasius Nursing Home?”
“Yes... I think that’s how they call it. The home at the edge of the
town...”
“Yes, yes! Of course, I knew him! Alex, it’s Father John! How can
we not know him?! He was from our Church! He came to us many
times! Your mother must have been so happy for having met him!
Everyone found it hard not to believe in God after they had met
Father John... Oh, I must tell you a story about him!”
The old lady stood up and stirred into a big boiling tin kettle.
“It’s almost done... I’m making some delicious stinging nettles! I
picked them from the garden myself. I’m sure you haven’t tasted such
a goodie in a long time...”
“I haven’t... I usually eat hamburgers...”
“I know, I know. You, city people, eat only junk food, full of
petroleum and plastic. I’d rather starve to death than eat that...”
The smell from the kettle filled the kitchen, and Jacob felt his
stomach hungry. He enjoyed the atmosphere of his friend’s home; it
was a mixture of embarrassment and obedience that made him feel
like a child. Vik, who had been silent all this time, stood up and got
out, wanting to go pick up some fresh onion leaves. When he opened
the door, the draft blew on the window curtain, and the Bible, which
was lying on the table open, flipped its pages.
“Well, let me tell you about Father John,” the old lady continued
the discussion, stirring the kettle.
“Yes... Please...”
“Father John was a priest of our church... Oh! We must take you
there! We could even go today... Oh! Everybody loved Father John.
He was a tall and handsome man. I knew him since he was young.
And he had a beautiful and melodic voice. It was a pleasure listening
to him. But he wanted to go to the home… He could have remained
with us, of course, for there are old people in our community too...
Even His Holiness is old. Right, you do know His Holiness, don’t you?
Don’t worry, you’ll get to know him. Anyway, there are people who
take care of the elderly at the home. I don’t know how much Alex has
told you, but Father John preferred to follow his call.
The old lady stopped stirring and took the kettle off the fire.
“It’s ready. Where’s Alex with the onions? Alex! Bring some
radishes too for the salad,” shouted the old lady, bending over the
window. “Well, I’m glad that your mother met Father John. That
means his mission was not in vain, and that God loved your mother
very much...”
Jacob didn’t understand anything anymore. First, he was
surprised to see an old lady who had surpassed the age limit set by
the law and who was still alive, and now, he was shocked to hear
about the existence of an entire community of people like her. How
big was that community, and how did it manage to remain hidden
from the authorities? Jacob had experienced so many mood changes
since yesterday that he lost track of time. The woman in front of him,
the blooming trees, the fresh air outside, and the sun that seemed to
enter the house made everything possible. Jacob felt good even in
this state of confusion and wonder, and he didn’t want to wake up
from it too soon. He felt that any question born out of his curiosity
could dissipate the magic of those unimaginable moments.
“Lunch is ready. It’s a meager meal, but it’s very delicious,” said
the old lady, setting the table. “It’s the Lenten fast. My husband and I
always fasted. Alex has been fasting too lately, but because of his
taxi business, he sometimes has to eat those rubbish hamburgers in
the city. I told him so many times not to, but at least he fasts when
he’s at home... The onion and the radish are here! We’ll make a nice,
delicious salad in no time... Come, Alex, give them to mommy to
wash it...”
“I’ll wash them, Mom, don’t worry. You rest a bit, ok?”
“Well, alright, if it pleases you so much to wash them, go ahead...
I’ll just sit here for a moment and talk to Jacob a little more. I’ve just
told him about Father John. Do you want to hear something
wonderful? Father John had baptized Jacob’s mother at the nursing
home! Could it have been a coincidence? No, I don’t think so! There
is no such thing as a coincidence. Everything happens according to
God’s will.”
 “I’ve washed the onion and the radishes. Do you want me to chop
them, too?”
“Eh, how would I look doing it?!”
“I can chop them if you want…”
“Let me do it! The nettles will get cold by the time you finish,”
joked the old lady, grabbing the radishes and the onion from Vik’s
hand. “But do you know what I’m thinking, Alex?”
“What, Mom?”
“Let’s take Jacob to His Holiness. He’ll have somebody to talk to.
His Holiness is a great connoisseur of the Scriptures and has read
books which nobody else has. But what am I saying?! He himself is
an open book! Thanks to his prayers, God protects our entire
community. I’ve never had any state inspection, for as long as I can
remember. The words The Kingdom of God is not from this world
fulfill themselves through him, I am certain! If there were more men
like him, the devil wouldn’t have been able to do the horrible things
that he’s now doing...”
“We’ll go to His Holiness too, of course,” said Vik, “That’s why I’ve
brought Jacob here.”
“Very well. Now, let’s eat, and talk later…”
The food looked delicious, and Jacob gobbled everything he had
on the plate in front of him. He was eager to meet His Holiness and
decided to let himself in the hands of these two kind and amazing
people, Vik and his elderly mother. Never before had he felt so
protected. After they’ve finished eating, he and Vik went in the
garden, where they spent the rest of the day discussing about the
most various things. The sun and the gentle April wind made Jacob
regret that he hadn’t been born in the countryside; he realized that he
had wasted the most beautiful years of his life in front of the
computer.
At nightfall, Jacob was taken to meet His Holiness. The church
was different from what Jacob had imagined. Instead of a museum-
church like the ones in the city, he found a simple house, a little
bigger than Vik’s. The entrance door was open, and the three entered
without knocking. The old lady stepped in first. From the last
chamber, the still voice of His Holiness could be heard:
“Let us fulfill our night prayer to the Lord!”
 “Lord, have mercy!” responded some disharmonized voices.
“Protect, redeem, give to us and protect us, Lord God, with your
grace!”
“Lord, have mercy!” the voices responded again.
The three made their way among the few believers who were
praying together with His Holiness. The whole chamber smelled of
frankincense, and the burning candles made everyone there appear
unreal. Jacob, who had never seen anything like it before, fixed his
eyes on His Holiness; a short old man, with white beard and tresses,
dressed in a long robe and a long and narrow epitrachelion.
“All night, Holy, in Peace and without sin, let us ask the Lord!”
sang the old man, his face worshiping towards East and his back
turned at the believers.
“Grant this, O Lord!” the few believers responded, whom Vik and
his old mother joined.
“An angel of peace, a faithful guide, a guardian of our souls and
bodies, let us ask the Lord!”
“Grant this, O Lord!
“For forgiveness and remission of our sins and transgressions, let
us ask the Lord!”
“Grant this, O Lord!”
“For all that is good and beneficial to our souls, let us ask the
Lord!
“Grant this, O Lord!” mumbled Jacob, feeling awkward to have
remained quiet while everybody else was singing.
He looked around, trying to understand what was actually
happening. Everything was so solemn and at the same time so
peaceful that Jacob no longer felt the need to fidget. He imagined
how proud his mother would’ve been if she had seen him now. He
even felt her standing beside him, and her presence was so strong
that when he took his palms to his nose and smelled them, a scent of
soap filled his nostrils, like the scent of his mother’s hands when she
would cuddle him in his childhood. The same warmth washed over
him now, making him shed unstoppable tears.
“For a Christian end to our lives, peaceful, without shame and
suffering, and for a good account before the awesome judgment seat
of Christ, let us ask the Lord.”
 “Grant this, O Lord!”
“Grant this, O Lord!” whispered Jacob and clumsily crossed
himself, imitating His Holiness. His heavy body suddenly felt lighter,
as if only then did the soul enter his body for the first time and was
trying to lift him up to another world and to another life.
After Vespers, they all went into another room, where a food table
had already been set. The last to arrive was His Holiness. Before
sitting down, a man, apparently the oldest in the room, said a prayer:
“The poor shall eat and be satisfied, and those who seek the Lord
shall praise him; their hearts shall live to the ages of ages. Glory to
the Father and the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and forever and to
the ages of ages. Amen. Lord, have mercy, Lord have mercy, Lord
have mercy. In the name of the Lord, bless us, Your Holiness!”
Making the sign of the Cross over the food, His Holiness said:
“Christ, our God, bless this food and this drink of your servants,
for You are Holy now and forever, and to the ages of ages. Amen.”
The food on the bishop’s table was as simple as the food on the
table of Vik’s old mother: unpeeled boiled potatoes that those present
had to peel themselves, salad, tea and jams. In the light of the
kerosene lamps, the whole gathering, with their bony faces and with
their hands peeling potatoes, seemed of fire. Noticing Jacob’s
clumsiness, His Holiness peeled a potato himself and put it on
Jacob’s plate.
“Here, brother Jacob, eat. It’s not a hamburger, but it will satisfy
your hunger for a while,” joked the bishop.
“Thank you...” said Jacob, embarrassed. “How do you know my
name?”
The bishop smiled.
“Father John spoke of you.”
“What?” asked Jacob, confused, “Ah... you’re probably joking,” he
tried to brazen it out, smiling, as if he heard a good joke.
“Of course, I’m joking,” answered the bishop, taking a sip from his
tea.
Then, looking toward Vik’s mother, he said:
“Sister Mary, why did you bring this unbaptized boy here?”
“Well, Your Holiness…,” began the woman but was quickly
interrupted by Jacob, who said:
 “I want to get baptized... I don’t know the procedures, but I do
wish that.”
The bishop smiled and put his little hand on Jacob’s big shoulder.
“I know, son, I know… I just wanted to tease sister Mary a little
since I’ve missed her and haven’t seen her in such a long time.”
“Forgive me, Your Holiness,” intervened the old lady, flattered by
His Holiness’ attention, “I didn’t think you would mind if I brought
Jacob here without asking for your permission first. You should know
that our Father John had baptized his mother at the nursing home.
And I thought that you’d be happy to hear that...
“How could we not be happy? Father John is our brother,” replied
His Holiness, without looking too surprised by sister Maria’s words.
Jacob became even more confused. If sister Mary hadn’t spoken
with His Holiness about him before, then how did the bishop know his
name? He thought that maybe Vik had told him. But when? For a
moment, Jacob had the impression that the bishop knew everything
about him. The emotion was so strong that for a moment, he couldn’t
speak as if his heart, the very place where the words were born, was
being looked at and analyzed.
“It is a blessing for me and to our entire congregation to have a
baptism on this Great and Holy Pascha,” said the bishop, his voice
full of joy. Then he told everybody, mostly for Jacob to hear, about the
long tradition of the Church to perform baptisms on the Easter
Saturday. Jacob was listening attentively, feeling that his life had
never been so fulfilled. He had never received so much attention
before, especially since the attention came not only from people, but
also from God Himself.
They left for home late, around midnight. The oval moon and the
bright stars, which were many that night, made the sky seem as
though it touched the earth. The wind was blowing and rustling the
tree leaves, spreading a fresh smell of grass and flowers. Holding the
stick in one hand and leaning against Vik with the other, Sister Mary
spoke the entire way back.
 The Children Battalions

After the remains of the disaster had been swept away from the
streets, Jacob and Vik returned to the city. A tourist would have never
thought that almost twenty-thousand people had been decimated
there just a few days earlier. The trucks from the City Council had
collected the garbage, the vegetables and the food littered in the
streets, and had washed the blood off the asphalt. Construction
crews had replaced the broken store windows and had repaired all
the damages done by the unleashed mob, so everything looked like
new. The only thing suspicious was the absence of people in the
streets on such a sunny day.
“I wonder if the internet is back up again,” said Jacob
unexpectedly, as soon as they entered the city. “I need to fix my
computer, which means I have to spend money again. I’ve become
addicted to it, you know.”
“It seems to me that everyone is addicted to computers
nowadays. They spend their lives more online than offline,” replied
Vik with conviction.
“How can His Holiness live like that, without electricity? I cannot
imagine life without it...”
“He has something more valuable than that. He’s in a totally
different world.”
“By the way, Vik… how did He know my name?” asked Jacob with
a childish curiosity.
“It’s not the first time. He often says things which he shouldn’t
know. He sees them in the spirit.”
“What do you mean?”
“Godly powers are given to holy men. For example, they can work
miracles and can see things from far away or even in the future.”
“Interesting… Are they like magicians?”
 “Kind of...” smiled Vik, happy to have found an explanation that
Jacob could understand.
The two bade farewell in front of Jacob’s building, agreeing to call
each other later. Once in his kitchen, Jacob fried some eggs in which
he’d chopped a lot of salami; then he took a shower and sat down in
front of the TV.
The TV: Thousands of children have lost their parents in the tragic
events that took place on the seventeenth and eighteenth of April,”
informs the Office of Press from the Presidency. “As long as the
nuclear family continues to be a constant of our society, the
government is not able to predict the kind of tragedies we witnessed
lately,” declared the leader of the Green Party, Ross Leibovich.
“Childcare in specialized State institutions where the necessary
education and a high level of security is assured by the State
represents the objective of the Green Party. We have repeatedly
brought the ordinance to the attention of the Senate, and now we
hope it will be promulgated as law. In the future, children will no
longer have to experience the shock of parent loss given their
education in the spirit of the love for the State,” Ross Leibovich also
declared. As more and more politicians consider the nuclear family to
be outdated for the new type of society based on welfare and
security, an emergency meeting in the Parliament will take place in
the following days to discuss the nuclear family concern. And now,
back to sports...
Jacob switched to another news channel, wanting to learn more
about what had happened during the days he was out of the city.
Everywhere people were talking about orphans and the law that
would put an end to the nuclear family, namely the traditional family,
on the grounds that parents couldn’t guarantee for the care and
education of their children.
The TV: However, in situations such as the one that had occurred
in our city these days in which thousands of parents had lost their
lives, the children are automatically placed under the care of the
State. Wouldn’t it be normal for the State to provide the support and
care for children even from their birth, in specialized institutions, so
that they wouldn’t have to experience the shock of parent loss, a
shock which will have a negative impact on their personalities later in
life? Once the nuclear families will cease to exist, the discrimination
between orphans and non-orphans currently affecting hundreds of
thousands of children will disappear forever. All the children will
belong to the state, and the state, just like a loving parent, will grant
all of them equal chances and rights. Isn’t this the ideal society that
we all long for?” the Ministry of Education, Vladimir Lavrov.
Then the TV showed footages of children brought in the asylums
after they had been hunted down from the streets and picked up from
the empty apartments. Young men and women in uniforms were
caring after the children, brushing their hair and peeling their oranges
and bananas. The children were also dressed in uniforms; both girls
and boys were wearing blue knickerbockers and white shirts, blue
caps on their head, and small, blue scarves around their neck.
FIRST CHILD: “I am very happy to be here. I have more parents
now, and many more brothers and sisters!”
SECOND CHILD: “It is nice here. We have toys. We sing, we
swim, we play video games.”
THIRD CHILD: “I am not sad that daddy and mommy died. It is
much better here.”
Jacob changed the channel. But other children, dressed in the
same uniforms, appeared on the screen. Aligned in rows of two, they
were marching on the spot, chanting a strange count. In front of the
rows, a child who seemed to hold the role of the commander, started
the count, the others continuing shortly after.
COMMANDING CHILD: One, two!
CHILDREN FROM THE ROW: Three, four!
COMMANDING CHILD: Three, four!
CHILDREN FROM THE ROW: One, two!
COMMANDING CHILD: Who are those who march with us?
CHILDREN FROM THE ROW: We replace the world that passed.
And we’re marching two by two. We are boys and girls: merry, proud
and smart!

Jacob turned off the TV. In the silence that followed, he thought of
the old bishop, Vik and his mother, and the people from the church; a
wave of profound sorrow washed over him as he realized he had lost
the inner peace he felt among them. Something about the city
troubled his heart and mind. He knew it now. At the sight of the
apartment buildings, of the streets and of the traffic lights, Jacob’s
mind passed into another registry. Instantly, he remembered his
computer, the internet, the money, and all the worries that engulfed
him. For a moment, the thought that buildings and pavement had
been created only to subordinate people crossed his mind. The world
in which he lived felt so dull that it triggered in people the same
thoughts, reactions and desires. He felt part of an experiment, and he
didn’t know how to escape from it.
He fought the urge to turn on the computer for as long as he
could, but eventually, he gave in and pushed the button. After a few
seconds, a greeting text appeared on the black screen:

“Hello! MacroSoft Inc. apologizes for the technical failure that had
occurred last week. We’ve identified the issue to be a cyber-attack
caused by the ‘End of the World’ virus. The virus has been deleted,
and your computer can now be used without any problem!”

“Finally,” mumbled Jacob, eager to log into his blog account. The
fact that he didn’t have to waste time and money to fix his computer
put a smile on his face, and he thanked the people at Macrosoft,
convinced they had done him a big favor.
“So... let’s see what the world has to say...” he said, typing his
password, “Aha! It seems there are a lot of comments waiting for
approval. Now... let’s see...”

TURBO2222: hello, jacob! where have you gone, man?! the end
of the world is over ☺ what are your thoughts on the blocked cards
maneuver? i thought it was cool!
BARAC OBAMA: hi! here’s a tip! the interim president also died
but his death won’t be publicly announced until another candidate
shows up. the problem is that nobody wants to be president ☺
they’re afraid of death! i wonder how will they preserve him? formalin
or alcohol? I'd prefer alcohol, whisky :))
BLACK MAN: hey! how about some chess? sign-up for a game
on my page!
 The squeal noise of a truck breaking sounded outside. Then
silence again. The sun was shining throughout the whole room,
causing the silence to feel warm. Jacob got up, opened the window,
and stood there for a while, staring outside, but he didn’t see anybody
in the streets. A garbage car appeared out of the blue only to
disappear moments later amongst the buildings.
In his forty years of life, Jacob Kohner had never suffered from
loneliness, or at least he believed so. But now, loneliness seemed so
terrifying like never before. Although he had been taught that
knocking at his neighbors’ doors was inappropriate, he was dying to
do exactly that.
As a kid, he saw a movie once where a cowboy had knocked at a
wooden door, and he was so fascinated by it that, one day, when his
parents were not at home, he went out in the building hallway and
knocked at all the neighboring doors. When his parents returned, they
scolded him for having displayed such an “indecent behavior”. Jacob
had never knocked at anyone’s door again ever since. Now, he
wished for someone to scold him, but he had nobody. He didn’t even
know if his neighbors were alive or dead.
The internet and the TV had ruined Jacob Kohner’s sense of
loneliness. However, after having unwittingly skipped his
“technological” habits for a few days, he realized that everything he
had thought to be true was, in fact, nothing but a big fat lie. The
encounter with Vik and the city break had caused a shift in the way
he viewed himself and his life. He felt like a wardrobe that had
suddenly been moved from its spot, exposing a big pile of mess
behind.
He put on his boots and got out of his apartment. He was craving
for people — the people he had seen so many times but never
thought of before — and he felt that seeing them was the greatest joy
of life. He walked around his block and then headed to the park. The
city was deserted, with only a few cars passing by from time to time.
A trolley appeared out of the blue, and Jacob spotted a couple of
human silhouettes inside, sitting, their faces pointed forward. What
could they be thinking, he thought. Only God knew.
He ran into a bunch of constructors in the park who were busy
taking some measurements of the area. Two of them were speaking
loud to each other from behind a tripod, while the third was sitting on
a bench and was writing down the information on a register. Jacob
would’ve liked to engage them in conversation, to ask them what they
were doing, but he realized that it would’ve been rude. Besides, he
was also shy. So, he sat on a bench and watched them from afar
instead.
“Do you mind if I sit next to you?”
Jacob’s thoughts were interrupted by an old man in his sixties
carrying a newspaper in his hand.
“No... not at all,” he answered, startled. “Be my guest...”
“Such a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I love the April sun and the blooming trees,” said the man, sitting
on the other side of the bench. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
“No, no... go ahead.”
“Would you like one?”
“Excuse me?”
“Would you like one?”
“Oh, yes, thank you... My apologizes, I didn’t understand your
question the first time... I was wondering what these people are
measuring here.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the man while lighting Jacob’s cigarette, “You
mean those guys over there? I’m surprised you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
“Well, they’re redesigning the park. I know someone at the city
hall. But this is confidential information.”
The man then lighted his cigarette, and filling his chest with
smoke, he leaned on his back. When he exhaled, he covered his
upper lip with the lower one, causing his face, in Jacob’s opinion, to
look like a boiling-over tea pot. The resemblance seemed even
stronger when the man started to giggle.
“What rubbish! Who ever heard of such a thing in my time?! No,
this is an outrage, sir! I’m going to tell you something that’ll make you
think I’m mad...”
“You’ve made me curious...” exclaimed Jacob, in curious tone
“Really, don’t you know anything at all?”
“No, I don’t even know what I should know...”
 “Let me tell you then, young man. I know someone at the city hall.
It’s something I’d known earlier but didn’t take it seriously. He tells
me: They will redesign the whole city. So, I tell him: What do you
mean redesign the whole city? There are apartment buildings, there
are parks, squares, parking lots and so on. This is money, sir! I ask,
what are they going to do with all this then? They’ll demolish it! he
says. Demolish?! They can’t do that! I reply, But the people… where
will they live? I ask confused. He says: Well, they’re going to get rid of
some of the people too, there will be just as many as necessary. Hear
this, man, I couldn’t believe my ears. And what happened next?!
They’ve gotten rid of us, man! They used the story with the banking
cards to deceive us... I say! Where has anyone seen twenty-thousand
people die in a street clash before?! They’ve whacked them, man!
Somebody told me that they transported the corpses in garbage
trucks to the outskirts of the city and buried them there. They buried
them alive, man! Behold, the democracy we all wanted! I heard that
they poured thousands of gallons of acid on them! And now, they’re
going to redesign the city because, according to them, there is no one
left to live in all these buildings?! Screw that man! They wanna build
something beautiful, with wide boulevards, with parks, with many
garden spots, fountains... a kind of heaven... ‘cause mankind has
reached a high degree of prosperity, they say, and that everybody will
live in luxury. What luxury, man?! I’ll die before I get to see this
heaven. And so will you. We’ve wasted our life building these
buildings, and now, those like you will destroy them. That’s how this
crappy life is: some build, others destroy. Anyway, I hope that I
haven’t exhausted you...”
“No, no... you’re absolutely right,” said Jacob, glad that he was
given the right to speak. The expression on his big face reflected the
image of a poor child whose praying had finally been answered.
“I want to live...” sighed the man unexpectedly, and with no
connection to the previous topic.
He took another long puff, stretching his lip in the same way as
before, and released the smoke perpendicularly upwards.
“I want to live!” he said aloud, drawing the attention of those
working in the park.
 Suddenly, he turned towards Jacob and put his hand on his
shoulder:
“I invite you to my home. I have good wine. Come on, you’re my
friend, please, don’t refuse me.”
Taken by surprise, Jacob didn’t know what to answer. He didn’t
know the man. The guy was weird, troubled, and said so many
terrifying things. How did he know them? Maybe he was a retired
former official. However, his talk and straightforwardness inspired
confidence. Jacob accepted the invitation.
A detachment of children dressed in uniforms like those on TV
made their appearance out of the blue at the other side of the park.
They were accompanied by a young tutor, also dressed in uniform.
She was giving out instructions to the children while a couple of
cameramen were filming them.
“Over there!” Jacob exclaimed, “They look like the ones on TV!
Who are they?”
“They are the children battalions,” answered the man, standing up
and taking a solemn pose, “We’ll see them more often from now on.
They plant trees, sweep the parks, and supervise the squares and
stores. This is the ‘future’!” smiled the man ironically. “Let’s go, I have
no eyes for them. These innocent kids today are the future killers of
tomorrow.”
“Are they orphans?”
“Orphans?! What are you talking about?! There are no orphans in
the New World! Those children belong to the state,” growled the man
in his strange way, from which Jacob couldn’t tell if he was just joking
or was serious. “Do you want another cigarette?”
“No, thanks... I want to quit.”
“Good for you! I’ll have one, though.”
The two left while the children’s marching and counting resounded
louder and louder in the park:

Who are those who march with us?

We replace the world that passed.
And we’re marching two by two.
We are boys and girls: merry, proud and smart!
 The April wind inflated the children’s blue scarfs and carried their
songs through the branches of the trees to far-far away. The white
apartment buildings with darkened windows were caressed by the
golden and hot rays of the sun. At their base, the decorative shrubs,
which had just been pruned with big iron scissors, seemed too tiny for
the wind to touch them. At the newsstand, hidden under a dark glass
eave, the saleslady, who hadn’t sold anything that day, was eating a
sandwich, her expression sour. When she spotted the two men, her
face suddenly lightened, and she put the sandwich aside:
“Would you like to buy a newspaper?” she yelled from behind the
pile of papers filled with colored pictures and letters.
“Thank you,” answered the man, raising the newspaper in his
hand, “I have one already!”
“Oh, ok,” replied the woman disappointed, returning to her
sandwich again.
“Newspapers write nothing but lies!” shouted the man, his tone
mildly annoyed.
“Really?!” the woman replied, irritated by his tone, “Then why are
you still buying it?”
“Just to see what lies they’re feeding us this time!” giggled the
man, satisfied with the joke he had made. Then he addressed to
Jacob aloud so that the saleslady could hear him too: “See this poor
woman? She’s doing her job with devotion, convinced that she’s
doing good for the society!”
“Don’t trifle with me, asshole!” yelled the woman, outraged. “I
know who you are, you filthy anti-Semitic Nazi! I saw you on the news
protesting against the New Government! You bastard! It’s because of
people like you that we don’t receive funds from the World
Government!”
“I wish I was younger and had a nuclear bomb with me!” the man
shouted, indignant, “So I can drop it on the morons who brainwashed
you too!”
“Yeah?! Well, I wish you had died like the rest of your kind! The
authorities should’ve wiped you too!”
“You’re a masonic bitch!”
“Look who’s talking! Filthy legionnaire! Anti-Semitic Nazi! I’ll sue
you! Asshole! I am Jewish, did you know that?! Do you want to kill
me?! You motherfucker! Your time is over! Filthy old fart...!”
The two men were far away by now, but the woman’s shouting
could still be heard in the background.
“I am tired,” said the man, a glum tone in his voice, visibly affected
by the woman’s insults, “I’ve fought all my life against this demonic
machinery that is crushing us all, and all I’ve got back were insults.
How old are you?”
“I’m forty...”
“Old enough to be my son... What is your name?”
“Jacob.”
“Nice to meet you, Jacob. I am Narcissus,” said the man,
stretching out his hand in a courteous manner.
“Nice to meet you too, Narcissus!”
“Let me tell you something, Jacob; I love life very much. I want to
live. I am sixty years old, and I feel like my life hasn’t really begun yet.
I want to do so many things, but I am terrified of how little time I’ve
got left before they’ll put me to sleep.”
The man went silent. Jacob, not knowing what to answer, went
silent too. Though he was twenty years younger, Jacob was
tormented by the same thoughts. He felt that his life had just begun,
but the time he still had left to live was so little.
 The Signs of Time

The meeting with Narcissus had ripped Jacob away from the
burdensome world of his own thoughts and introduced him into an
even more confusing reality which he didn’t perceive before. The
stories about how the city would be redesigned and how the dead
were transported in the garbage trucks had leadened Jacob’s heart
with fear — he was afraid precisely because they seemed so real.
Narcissus knew a lot about the world, and so the more he talked,
the more Jacob’s trust grew in him. Everything that Narcissus had
done in his life sounded fascinating to Jacob, who wished to have
been besides the old man in his youth. He was seduced by the
courage with which Narcissus spoke; his gestures, even the way in
which he would light his cigarette, seemed to defy the leaders of the
day. Absurd as it was, Jacob even thought that the man looked like
his mother, although Roza Kohner didn’t smoke and didn’t use to
gesticulate so impulsively. Perhaps the resemblance was so
compelling because of the manner in which his mother died, or better
said, of how she was killed by the cursed Law 182/110, a demonic
law which was now sniffing like a beast at this fascinating man called
Narcissus.
The following days, all the news channels debated the topic about
redesigning the city, and Jacob could see how people of all ages
were taken from the old homes and brought into the new ones, along
with their furniture and personal belongings. The living were moving
into the apartments of the dead. Old neighbors were separated, and
new ones, total strangers, were jostling in, carrying their luggage up
the stairs. Some were angry that they had to stay on the top floor,
others didn’t want to live on the ground floor. Some were sad for
leaving their old home behind, while others liked their new one better.
 They all began a new life. In their wake, giant cranes immediately
started to demolish one building after another, while convoys of
trucks, some loaded with debris and others with fresh soil, rumbled
through the city streets, the air behind them smelling of earthworms
and freshly plucked roots.
As Easter got closer, Jacob needed to prepare himself for his
baptism. This made him act nervously, easily going from excitement
to fear. He had read in the Bible that those who were baptized in the
name of Jesus Christ could perform miracles: resurrect people from
the dead, heal the sick, drink poison and not die, and so forth. He
even thought of resurrecting his mother but then quickly realized the
foolishness of his idea. Nevertheless, he imagined a world where
apostles and all the saints would resurrect their parents and relatives
over and over again. Later, he gave up the idea of bringing his mother
back to life and started wondering how going to hospitals and heal
the sick would be. He’d become famous in no time, and he’d abolish
the pharmaceutical industry forever. The oligarchs would plot against
Jacob Kohner, pouring poison into his coffee, but he wouldn’t die.
Instead, he’d become even more famous.
Jacob was flabbergasted by everything that baptism meant in his
imagination, but since reading the entire Holy Scripture seemed like
an impossible task for him, he decided to skim through passages
from it instead.
On the other hand, he very much wanted to help Narcissus. What
he couldn’t do for his mother, Jacob wished to do for his new friend
who was a simple stranger not so long ago. Was it possible to find a
place for him in the brotherhood of the old bishop? The thought that
Narcissus could escape from the cursed law sent chills down Jacob’s
spine, and he couldn’t wait to meet His Holiness and personally ask
him for permission to bring Narcissus in the brotherhood.
The fear of death — of his own and of others — became
increasingly persistent when the news finally made public the death
of the interim President. Although the rumors about the President’s
disappearance had flooded the internet a few days before, no official
source had confirmed it. Until now. The President had died in the
same terrible and suspicious way as his predecessor and the former
Prime Minister.
 Sources from the State recount that the President had begun to
emanate an unbearable odor just two days prior to his tragic end. But
even stranger, the President himself couldn’t smell the stench of
death that came out of his mouth whenever he spoke and would
linger in his office for hours. He died during a meeting with the
ministers, and his death was so terrible that it caused everyone to
storm out in fear, leaving him alone and in agony in the presidential
tribune. His corpse, disfigured by maggots, was taken to the morgue,
where it was kept in the freezer until the funeral. The burial was made
in a hurry, so as not to let his frozen corpse defrost. The Minister of
Education wasn’t present at the funeral, and his absence led people
to believe he died as well. There was a palpable sense of panic
amongst all of the officials, and nobody wanted to occupy the empty
chair of presidency. Several ministers resigned, and the superstition
that death would come for everyone in the State Apparatus seized
people’s hearts. All anyone talked about was the end of the world.
The cold rain, which had started the night before, gnawed at the
ground, forming muddy creeks that swirled from under the cranes and
on the asphalt. Jacob slid the car window down, and tiny raindrops
splattered on his face and arms.
“I like getting rained on!” he said joyfully, looking at Vik.
“I like it too, but I’m thinking that we have to walk, and that we’re
gonna get mired down with mud.”
“Oh, I like walking through mud!” Jacob flared up, punching the air
with his clenched fist, “I’ve never done it before...”
Vik couldn’t help but be amazed by this gown-up kid called Jacob.
The enjoyment and sadness were reflected not only by his face, like it
did on others, but by his entire being, including his soul. Therefore,
whenever Jacob was happy or sad, he would give out the impression
that his soul was trying to escape his body. His sturdy body would
leap at the sight of rain, of blooming trees, and of freshly plowed
earth, and he would have to make great effort by dragging his heavy
and slightly knocked legs just to walk, or by bending over his big
tummy in an attempt to catch a worm.
The two friends arrived at noon, and around three o’clock, they
were already inside the small church where His Holiness had just
started Our Lord’s Last Rite Mass. Everyone in the room had
fastened, not having eaten nor drunk all day, in remembrance of the
True Passion of Our Redeemer Jesus Christ. The words of the
Canon, sung for hours by the entire gathering, stirred up Jacob’s
heart, making him even more eager to get baptized. When His
Holiness came out with the epitaph and placed it in the middle of the
church and bowed down in worship three times to the ground, Jacob
felt like he was ready to die for Christ. And he would’ve done that.
After the Mass, they all went to the refectory where they ate fruits and
had tea with jam.
“How do you feel?” His Holiness asked Jacob when they
remained alone.
“I’m good, thank you. A little nervous though...”
“It’s normal. Have you read from The Holy Scripture before?”
“I have... not much, but I have. There are many things that I don’t
understand.”
“The Scripture is to be understood when it is lived.”
“Where does the Bible talk about the end of the world?”
“Hmm, there are many passages in the Bible that speak about the
end of the world and about our resurrection, starting from the Book of
Prophets and ending with the Book of Revelation.”
“Is it true that a flood will drown the Earth? I saw it in a
documentary once... It said that ‘global warming’ will melt the ice caps
and flood the Earth.”
“Nonsense! They’re confusing people with ice caps and solar
explosions, but they’re not afraid of what is worse.”
“Don’t you believe in global warming?” asked Jacob naively.
His Holiness stood up and approached the window. The sun had
set, but its reddish-yellow light was still visible from behind the hill.
The shadows of the trees fell over the house, penetrating through the
window and into the chamber. The bishop lingered there, starring into
the distance, long enough to make Jacob wonder if he had heard the
question or had lost interest for the conversation.
Then suddenly, His Holiness took a deep breath, his gaze still
fixed at the reddish sky, and like a news reporter who was reading a
text on a prompter, he said:
“The end of the world will not be triggered by a cataclysmic event
as many believe, but by a demonic desire to kill, a desire which is
already creeping into the souls of more and more men. Evil will cause
people to doubt each other and destroy themselves. When the last
man alive and capable of loving will be killed, the life on Earth will
lose its true and only meaning: love. Then God will put an end to all
evil. When love will disappear from the world, everyone will die, and
the Devil, whose greatest pleasure is to kill, will gain their souls for
the kingdom of darkness.”
“But aren’t we already living without love, Your Holiness? So many
people have died, and nobody questions why that had happened.
People don’t care about each other, and as long as they themselves
have a place to live, a job, and food on the table, they accept
whatever laws the government comes up with. I don’t believe this is
the normality. Neither do I agree with this damn law that interrupts life
at sixty-five! I believe it is a kind of crime.”
“Don’t be naïve, Jacob! It’s not a kind of crime, it’s the crime that
the Devil himself commits. And do not use the expression ‘interrupts
life’ but call it as it is: murder. At first, they deceived people by
convincing them that killing the unborn child is nothing but a
‘pregnancy interruption’, then they said that killing the elderly is just
‘an interruption of life’, and not even of life but of ‘vital functions’. And
others don’t even call us people but ‘human beings’, namely beings
that look like people. If you paid attention, you also heard the
expression ‘human machinery’. For many years, people have been
inoculated the idea that the human organism functions like a perfect
machine, so that eventually they would refer to an old or sick man as
a useless machine. And what can you do with a useless machine?
Discard it. But man is much more than a machine. Do you agree?”
“I agree... I think so...” answered Jacob, confused.
“Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes
from the mouth of God, said Jesus Christ. Man is also spirit, and the
spirit has no age, it is everlasting. The healthiness of the spirit is
wisdom, and wisdom is achieved in time. As the old man needs the
young man’s strength, so does the young man need the old man’s
wisdom. Otherwise, they’re running around like a chicken with its
head cut off. God granted each age number its own beauty. The
‘generation gap’ is an invention of the Devil. God says: Honor your
father and your mother, but the Devil says: don’t listen to your
parents, they are old and don’t understand you. So far has gone
mankind with this demonic policy that the children have begun to
enjoy the death of their parents. The retirement centers, once built for
noble purposes, have prepared the killing of the elders. Not the
elders, but the young who repudiate their parents should be taken to
centers for they are the mentally ill ones. The Devil has fulfilled his
dream: parents kill; they kill their children before they are born, and if
somehow a child is lucky enough to be born into this world, he grows
up and kills his parents. Killer children are born from killer parents,
and because of that, death spreads across the entire Earth, to the
Devil’s delight.”
“This cursed law must be abolished!” Jacob flared up, “People
should live as long as God allows them!”
“Jacob, Jacob, you’re thinking like a child... How would that
change anything? It’s not the law that makes the reality, but the reality
has become the law. When people had rejected God’s laws, the Devil
quickly snuck his tail and imposed his laws. In the end, however,
there is only one law of God, which is Life, and only one law of the
Devil, which is Death. Many are the desires and wishes of people,
and many are the ways in which the Devil tempts them. But, if you
pay close attention, you will notice that everything ends in death.
Young lovers end up killing each other, and if they don’t do that, they
kill their babies before they are born. The greedy die alone, many
times killed by thieves or poisoned by their relatives. And so on. For
when the Devil proposes something, his sole purpose is to kill.”
Jacob was hungry, and the tea and fruits had only caused him an
even greater appetite. Overcoming his shyness, he grabbed a loaf of
bread and started to eat.
“Are you hungry? Woe to me, ignorant old man,” moaned His
Holiness, “Wait a minute. I have something for you.”
The bishop disappeared and returned shortly after, carrying a
smoked fish wrapped in a piece of paper.
“Eat this. You are not accustomed to fasting, but you will get used
to it eventually. You got your whole life ahead.”
“Thank you! I haven’t eaten anything today. My head is spinning
with hunger.”
“That’s how fasting rookies are,” joked the bishop.
 “And still, do you believe that the end of the world is near?” asked
Jacob, gobbling the fish.
“God knows.”
“But what does the Bible say?”
“The Bible says that we cannot know the day or the hour, but we
will figure it out by looking for the signs of the time approaching.”
“And what are these signs?”
“Wars, the love fading, earthquakes...”
“All this has already happened.”
“And is still happening.”
“Does it mean that the time is near?”
“Yes, the time is near. But there is something more. The Hebrews
must return to Christ.”
“The Hebrews?”
“Aham, finish your meal. You are so concerned with the end of the
world that you forget to eat.”
“Oh... that’s right... Well, I’m just thinking that if the end of the
world is close, why are they still fighting against overpopulation? We
all will die anyway.”
“This fight is in vain. There is enough earth and water to support
everybody. In times past, we’ve built cities that crowded millions of
people, while in other places of the world, millions of hectares of land
and forest had remained uninhabited and unworked. They produced
artificial fruits and vegetables that killed billions of people, while
peasants weren’t allowed to work their fields. In the last thirty years,
the population of the Earth has halved. But do you think anyone got
to live better? I could tell you they’ve ended worse. And it will get
even worse and worse because people let themselves be deceived
by the false promises of the Devil, abandoning God and hating each
other.”
“But if mankind is continuingly decreasing, doesn’t this mean that
we’re all heading to the day when the very last person on earth will
die? And wouldn’t that be the actual end of the world?”
“God knows. The world began with two people, a man and a
woman, who had filled the earth. Now it’s the age of the Devil, and if
God allows him, he can kill even the last man on earth. But perhaps
God plans to start from the beginning, and from the last people who
would remain, He would rise a new nation, and then another, and so
on... God will put an end the world when He wants to, and the Devil
will be unable to do anything against the will of God.”
“But can’t we do anything against the Devil?”
“Of course, we can, Jacob! We can do everything against him,
including defeating him. All we need to do is to love. I would go as far
as to tell you that for those who love, the Devil doesn’t exist
anymore.”
“What does it mean to love?”
“What does it mean to love?!” repeated the old man, surprised by
the question.
“To love means to feel the pain of others as being your own.”
“And to fight?”
“And to fight.”
 The Big Brother

After he was baptized, Jacob stayed at the church. Easter and The
Bright Week had passed as if they were one single day. The joy and
the light in Jacob’s heart kept pouring and never seemed to stop. He
was even allowed to read from the lectern, and his trembling voice
blended beautifully with the voices of the angels and of the Holy
Fathers, who had written the wonderful songs about the Resurrection
of Christ many centuries ago. The Grace of the Baptism overcame
Jacob’s shyness, and together with the rest of the congregation, he
sang the life giving words:

It is the Day of Resurrection! Let us rejoice, O people!

It is the Pascha, the Pascha of the Lord!
From death to life and from earth to Heaven
Christ our God has passed us,
Who sing to Him the hymn of victory:
Christ is risen from the dead,
Trampling on death by death,
And upon those in the tombs bestowing life!

At home, Jacob no longer felt the need to turn on the TV or the

computer. His heart was filled, and the thoughts about the mysteries
of his own soul were sufficient to keep him occupied. He read The
Scriptures every day, as His Holiness had taught him, highlighting the
verses that he didn’t understand. Not only his mind but his entire
body had changed. He no longer felt burdened with the weight of the
world nor did he feel the need to sleep during the day. For the first
time in many years, Jacob could wake up at dawn and see the much-
desired sunrise. The white-yellowish light which rose above the
sleepy city transposed Jacob in the distant days of his childhood,
when the world seemed a much better place and when the dreams
about the future gave him pleasant shivers.
Jacob’s peace had been disturbed by an unexpected visit. One
day, while he was at home, lecturing, the doorbell chimed, causing
him to get up and open the door.
“Hi there, bro! You weren’t expecting me, were you?” said the
voice on the other side of the door; a man in his mid-forties, wearing
an expensive suit and holding a little leather suitcase in his hand.
“Well? Don’t you recognize me? You’ve changed a lot too, you know,”
the man continued to talk, shoving past Jacob inside the house.
“Raul?!”
“You do recognize me! That’s my brother! I’ve changed, I know.
I’ve had a plastic surgery, and I was about to have a sex change
surgery too. In Israel, if you have a sex change surgery, you have the
right to marry and have descendants. Anyway, as you already know,
I’ve sold my right to have children. After the money was gone, my
lover wanted a family, but like me, he also sold his right to have
children. Then we had this incredible idea that one of us should have
a sex change surgery so we could adopt a child. Obviously, he
wanted me to have the operation, and I wanted him to have it.
Anyway, he came up with the money, and in the end, I was on the
verge of having the surgery. Then I told myself: Forget about the
child! I’ve lived without one before, so I can still live without one from
now on too. In a word, I broke up with my lover. I went through
depression and all that, but I’m better now. Then I remembered you
and thought to myself: Hold on, Jacob is the successor. By the way,
according to my calculations, mother turned sixty-five this year so...
But come on, won’t you invite me in?! I have a bottle of whisky from
the airport. You’ve really put on a lot of weight, I know! Oh, how I
missed you, little brother!”
Jacob entered the dining room. He would have wanted to set the
table, but he realized that he didn’t know how to do that. He never
received visitors, and the visit of his big brother confused him. He
was gripped by emotions; his heart was beating fast, and he didn’t
know what to do. He felt small and excluded again. Raul had always
been smarter and ahead of him.
 “Over here,” Jacob asked his brother to follow him, but before he
would receive an answer, he went back to the hallway, remembering
it was impolite to speak from behind the door.
“Wow! Nothing has changed since I left this place! The same TV,”
exclaimed Raul, slamming the television with his palm, “by the way,
won’t you turn it on? The news must be on...”
“Sure, I was about to do that, actually...” mumbled Jacob,
intimidated.
“And the same couch! Incredible! Jacob, if you weren’t so fat, I
might believe that you are wearing the same underwear that you had
twenty-six years ago!”
Jacob blushed and didn’t know what to answer. He had always
been embarrassed with his looks, and now, with Raul mocking him
about it — Raul, whom he had always considered to be a physique
ideal — his shame became even more unbearable.
“Come on, relax, I’m only joking. I like it here. It reminds me of our
childhood. Bring two glasses! Let’s drink to our childhood!”
Jacob brought the glasses.
“Bro, haven’t you got any food in the fridge? It just doesn’t feel
right drinking on an empty stomach. I didn’t eat anything today, and I
didn’t want to buy food from the airport; it was too expensive. I
thought to myself that my brother Jacob must have something to eat
in the house, even though we haven’t seen each other in ages!
Cheers! I drink to you, brother! Oh, yes, and to our childhood too!”
Jacob brought something to eat then took a sit in the armchair, in
front of Raul. He wanted to feel him close, but he couldn’t. There was
nothing left from the old teenager he used to know. The floral shirt
was now covering a chest that looked more like a woman’s breast.
Only the hairy, thick fingers with groomed nails revealed the man he
once was. The freshly shaved olive complexion was shadowed by the
same long eyelashes that he had always been admired for. Only that
the eyebrows were now plucked, making his eyes seem bigger than
they actually were. In other words, Raul’s appearance made Jacob
feel it was indecent to look his brother in the eye.
“By the way,” said Raul after he drank a couple of shots, “I saw on
TV that here, in your city, they’re demolishing apartment buildings
because there’s no one left to live in them. In Israel, we’ve got a huge
housing problem. I was thinking that perhaps we could find something
here, you know; you could move somewhere else, and we could stay
here. Anyway, you know how things work around here better than I
do, since you lived here for so long.”
“We can live here together,” said Jacob gladly.
“Don’t get me wrong, Jacob, I wouldn’t mind... It’s just that... Oh,
well... I’m not sure what my boyfriend would say... In fact, it was his
idea to move here in the first place. I hope you’re ok with it...”
“Wait, this doesn’t make any sense,” said Jacob, slightly tipsy
from the whisky. “Didn’t you say you too broke up?”
“Oh, yes, we broke up but then we got back together. He told me
that if I solve the housing issue, he’ll come back to me.”
“You could file an application at the City Hall. I don’t think they will
deny it...”
“I know, Jacob, but to do that I must get my citizenship back, and I
don’t want that. You know the laws of this country. I don’t want to be
euthanized at sixty-five. I’d be too stupid. In Israel, things are
different. Indeed, finding a place to live there is harder, but if I lose the
Israeli citizenship, which will happen if I file the damn application at
the City Hall, I’ll end up a victim to the local laws. That’s why I need
you to find another place to live, so we can move in here. Anyway,
everything is temporary. No need for paperwork. We’re only going to
stay here until we solve the housing problem in Israel. After that, we’ll
leave. Come on, you’ve always been a true brother, you know that.
Don’t let me down now!”

✽✽✽

For the next fifteen years, Raul and his lover lived in Jacob’s
apartment. How they actually lived there, Jacob never knew. After
they had spent their little savings, the two started to prostitute
themselves for a living. They were doing the same thing in the
country from which they came, but at least they had a home here.
Initially, Jacob lived at Narcissus’ place, but then they both moved
to the church. Narcissus, who had connections in the city
administration, fabricated his own false death, being among the
victims of the tragic events in April. In that way, he disappeared
without a trace and spent the rest of his life in His Holiness’
community. However, his living days weren’t so many after all.
Narcissus died from a lung disease at the age of sixty-eight. Jacob
recalled Narcissus furious outbursts, who would say that in vain he
had prolonged his life if he couldn’t fight. One of the days, the old
bishop called for Narcissus, and they had a conversation:
“Brother Narcissus, do you think that the struggle you face here is
less important than the one you used to have out there, chanting in
the city square?”
“Yes, I do, Your Holiness. It seems to me that while I’m hiding in
here, the evil roams the world and there’s nobody to stand against it.
The Truth must be spoken in public, not kept in the heart. I feel like a
coward who fled from the enemy to save his life.”
“My brother, I will tell you a mystery which I wouldn’t have told you
if I hadn’t seen the sincerity of your heart, a sincerity which could also
kill you. Have you seen how the mighty ones fall dead in the very
hour they least expect it? Have you ever wondered why this
happens?”
“I thought that God is taking His revenge!”
“God never takes His revenge because He is immortal and
almighty. But He said that he would revenge His servants who had
served Him faithfully. According to the Prophet, when the prayers of
those unjustly persecuted reach the heavens, God places burning
embers on the head of the oppressors. Or, do you think that The God
who inflicted the ten disasters on Egypt is not the same as the One
from today? Have you ever wondered why, for four hundred years,
God had allowed the Egyptians to oppress the Israelites only so He
could punish them in one single day?”
“I’ve never thought about that...”
“Because no righteous man like Moses had been born yet. It has
always been the same. Should there be righteous men who can
stand before God for the people and for the world, God will cast His
wrath upon the unjust rulers and will place other kings in their place
who would lead according to His commandments. I can tell you for
sure that Moses didn’t glorify himself through speeches or by
organizing riots, but by the meekness and the boldness that he
showed before The Living God. Your fight in the world was good, but
it ends here. The time has come to learn a much more terrible work
against the enemy: the prayer. You shall see how, by the power of the
prayer, those whom no human uprising could budge from their seats
will fall. What is impossible for man is made possible with God. Never
forget that.”
After the discussion with His Holiness, Narcissus became a
different man. He spent the last years of his life in silence, praying so
intensely that when people looked at him, their hearts would burn with
the desire to serve God.
The last time he saw Raul, Jacob had been a priest for several
years already. His body became thinner from fasting, and none of
those who had known him before could recognized him now. Jacob
had gone gray, but he looked much younger than he did fifteen years
ago, so when the door had opened, Raul thought he was one of his
old clients. But as soon as he entered, Raul recognized Jacob’s
voice.
“Oh, brother! I almost didn’t recognize you! What happened to
you? Do you have cancer or typhus? Oh, but you look so good!
Garik, come and meet my brother!”
Raul had changed too. There was nothing left of the pedantry
from when they met fifteen years ago. His stubble face was full of
wrinkles, and he had a thick streak of hair left unpluck above the
eyelids. He talked funny, his sturdy lips trying to hide the few missing
teeth, and when he stretched out his hand to his brother, Jacob
noticed his dirty fingernails. The entire room smelled of urine and
cigarette smoke. Drunk and dressed in a filthy negligée, an old man
put out his uncombed head from the bedroom.
“Garik, look who’s here! This is Jacob, my younger brother,” said
Raul, embarrassed by how Garik looked.
In fact, Jacob couldn’t tell whether Raul was ashamed of the way
Garik looked or was ashamed of how he himself looked, or maybe of
both.
“So what?” mumbled Garik, leaning against the door. “We have
nothing left to serve him with. You ate the last slice of salami, like a
stinky faggot that you are, and didn’t think of me at all...”
“Don’t mind him, Jacob,” Raul excused himself, “He’s just drunk...”
 “It’s ok,” replied Jacob, embarrassed by the condition in which he
found his brother, “I came to visit... I was wondering how you were...”
“How can I be?! I’m fine. We’d like to leave for Israel, but we’ve
got no money. We haven’t solved the housing problem neither. We
didn’t even realize how quickly time had passed... How many years
are there since we came here, do you remember?”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen?! Oh, right... I don’t know why I had thought of fourteen...
Oh well, time flies when you’re having fun, right? Care to join me for a
glass of whisky?”
“No, thank you...” answered Jacob.
“Well, I’d drink one... If you go get some... I’m out of cash now,
you know, but if you buy a bottle of whisky, I’ll pay you back the first
chance I get. Please, I really need to drink something...”
It was the last time Jacob saw Raul. His older brother died two
months later, at nearly sixty-one. For fear he might be accused of
illegal residency in the country, Garik dragged the corpse of his lover
under a bridge, after which he committed suicide by slitting his wrists.
Both were incinerated in the city crematory, without the police caring
to search for their identity.
 Jacob Kohner Goes to Heaven

That morning, the children battalions have returned at the

Euthanasia Home to plant seedlings. The elders, awaken by the
counting and the chanting of the pioneers, rushed to the windows. In
the garden, where Father John once ministered the Liturgies, the
noise of the chainsaws cutting down the cherry trees filled the air.
Birch and poplar trees were to be planted instead. The decision had
been made by the management of the nursing home who had
concluded that blooming cherry trees caused nostalgia to patients,
making them depressed.
The doors and the windows of the home were closed and guarded
the entire duration of the works. The measure was taken to prevent
potential conflicts that could arise between patients and workers. Two
days before, when the news that the cherry trees would be cut down
had reached the old people’s ears, some of the patients gathered in
the garden and declared a hunger strike. They were later joined by
others who, although not being really concerned with the fate of the
cherry trees, thought the revolt was an entertaining way to kill time.
Eventually, the guards convinced them to go back to their rooms,
while the more stubborn were tied up and put to sleep with injections.
The next morning, dressed in straitjackets, the protesters were
standing frozen at the windows. The noise of the chainsaws had
woken them up from the heavy sleep caused by the injections.
Outside, a group of pioneers in uniforms was gathering the blooming
branches of the cherry trees in a pile while another one was loading
them into a tractor. Nobody knew where the branches would be
transported. On the second floor, one of the people in straitjacket
smashed his head against the window and broke it. Shards of glass
fell silently on the stone pavement, their clink being covered by the
noise of the chainsaws and the tractors.
 One, two!
Three, four!
Three, four!
One, two!
Those marching with us are who?
Who are those who march with us?
We replace the world that passed.
And we’re marching two by two.
We are boys and girls: merry, proud and smart!

Then the pioneers would start the count from the beginning. Every
work they would do was accompanied by the count. Sometimes they
had to sing too. Their songs were about the blue sky, the wind or the
fire burning. It was hard for the children in uniforms to be happy when
they had to sing about stuff that made no sense. The pioneers were
supervised by teens also dressed in uniforms. Their faces betrayed
neither their age nor their sex. Looking at them, you’d think they were
a new kind of human race who knew nothing but to sing and work.
Jacob Kohner was brought to the Euthanasia Nursing Home at
the age of sixty-two. The medical examination had found him with
cardiovascular problems. The obesity he had suffered from for such a
long time had affected his health, so Jacob was put in the home
earlier. Before his death, His Holiness had ordained Vik as priest of
the community, who was forty-eight at the time. After many years of
service, Jacob had been granted the blessing to go to the nursing
home, following in Father John’s footsteps. The blessing matched
Jacob’s desire for it was the answer to his longtime prayers.
When Jacob entered the courtyard, the trucks with the pioneers
and workers were just leaving the Euthanasia Home. The pavement
was sprinkled with cherry flowers, and the freshly dug soil was full of
earthworms. Instead of the cherry trees, poplar and birch trees were
now standing tall, lined up in rows, like the children who had planted
them. The sight of them reminded him of the confusing count:

One, two!
Three, four!
 Three, four!
Two, one!...

After the battalions in uniforms had left, the doors of the pavilions
were opened, and the elders bustled outside like noisy children.
Accustomed to hide under the trees to smoke, they were now looking
for shelter. Some of them sat on the grass and lit their cigarettes.
“Don’t sit on the grass, you’ll catch a cold!” shouted the squeaky
voice of the supervisor, a young blonde in uniform with a blue cap on
her head. “Stand up, you’ll mess up your robes! There are benches to
sit on!”
Jacob took up a bed, a robe, a pair of slippers, a hat, a soap and
two towels, a toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, shampoo, and a
bar of chocolate. The clothes in which he came were taken away.
This procedure was necessary to prevent patients from escaping the
home. After lunch, he was going to be introduced to his colleagues.
Until then, he was free to wander outside.
He took a sit on a bench, next to a gray-haired man who was
smoking by himself.
“Are you new?” asked the man.
“Yes,” answered Jacob.
“How old are you?
“Sixty-two.”
“Couldn’t you wait a little longer?”
“I have health problems.”
“We all have health problems. You didn’t know how to work it out.
I should’ve been brought here three years ago for the same reason,
but I knew who to bribe. I’ve won two years of life.”
“I don’t care to live longer.”
“Why, don’t you have anybody? No family?”
“I do. A very large family, actually.”
“You’re lying. There are no such things as large families.”
“Oh, yes, there are. You just have to know where to look.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’ve been told that before.”
The man searched his pocket and took out a cigarette.
“Do you smoke?”
 “No, thank you. I quit. Many years ago.”
“I’ll just have another one, then,” said the man, lighting his
cigarette from the old one. “How long do you think it will take for these
trees to grow?”
“I don’t know. I know nothing about trees.”
“I’m guessing maybe thirty years. Maybe more.”
“It’s a long time…”
“Bastards! They’ve cut our cherry trees! They planted poplars.
And I’m allergic to poplars.”
“It won’t do you any harm, not in this life at least,” joked Jacob.
“Hmm… that’s true. You’ve got humor, I like that. Do you believe
in God?”
“I do. Why?”
“Only those who believe in God make jokes when they come
here.”
“I didn’t know that...”
“I met two of them. They died laughing. I envy them.”
“So, what stops you from being like them?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m too rational. But I believe that if God
existed, He wouldn’t allow such a thing.”
“What thing?”
“He wouldn’t let us die here like some dogs.”
“Does it matter how you die?”
“What else matters then, if not how you die?”
“I think it matters how you live.”
“I don’t know. Death is the crown of life. I think that how you die
says a lot about how you lived.”
“There were many people who lived majestically but died in the
most humiliating way. John the Baptist, for example, was beheaded
at the request of a dancer.”
“Who’s that? Was he a Christian?”
“Yes…”
“Whom did he baptize?”
“Christ...”
“Then he wasn’t a Christian. Was he Jewish?”
“He was. But because he believed in Christ and preached about
Him, he was a Christian.”
 “Christians are all weirdoes. They like dying. Killed, if possible. I
read a book once, when I was a teenager, about how Christians were
fed to tigers and lions in the Roman circuses. They’re crazy. Even
their Christ let himself be crucified. If he was God, why didn’t he fight
back?”
“Maybe because He is indeed God, and death means nothing to
Him…”
The piercing screech of a siren cut through the air, causing
everybody to get up and go inside.
“It’s lunch time. Let’s go. We’ll talk some other time about your
Christ.”
After lunch, the supervisor introduced Jacob to the rest of the
gathering. The procedure was compulsory, although everyone knew it
by heart and didn’t enjoy it at all.
After that, Jacob remained alone. He spent the entire afternoon in
the garden. The countdown had begun for him that day. His thoughts
gained a clarity which he had not known before, and because of the
fire burning inside his heart, he believed he would never fall asleep.
They had juice and cookies for dinner. The faces of the patients
had been transformed by silence and wisdom, and their hats, which
they never took off, looked like some poorly drawn auras. People
become themselves in front of death. What would those people have
looked like if they hadn’t known the exact day and time of their death?
After dinner, Jacob retreated to the recreation room. Some were
watching TV, while others were playing computer games. Just a few
were reading. Jacob sat at the table where he saw his mother for the
last time many years ago. Taking his Bible out, he broke time
somehow, mixing together the past, the present and the future.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe
also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so,
would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for
you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and
take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know
the way to the place where I am going. Thomas said to him, “Lord, we
don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one
comes to the Father except through me. […] Peace I leave with you;
my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not
let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.[1]
I have loved you, just as my Father has loved me. So, remain
faithful to my love for you. If you obey me, I will keep loving you, just
as my Father keeps loving me, because I have obeyed him. I have
told you this to make you as completely happy as I am. Now I tell you
to love each other, as I have loved you. The greatest way to show
love for friends is to die for them. And you are my friends, if you obey
me. Servants don’t know what their master is doing, and so I don’t
speak to you as my servants. I speak to you as my friends, and I
have told you everything my Father has told me. You did not choose
me. I chose you and sent you out to produce fruit, the kind of fruit that
will last. Then my Father will give you whatever you ask for in my
name. So, I command you to love each other. If the people of this
world hate you, just remember that they hated me first. If you
belonged to the world, its people would love you. But you don’t
belong to the world. I have chosen you to leave the world behind, and
this is why its people hate you.[2]
I am telling you these things, so that you will not turn away. You
will be chased out of the synagogues. And the time will come when
people will kill you and think they are doing God a favor. The time will
come and is already here when all of you will be scattered. Each of
you will go back home and leave me by myself. But the Father will be
with me, and I won’t be alone. I have told you this, so that you might
have peace in your hearts because of me. While you are in the world,
you will have to suffer. But cheer up! I have defeated the world.[3]”
It is said that Jacob Kohner never really died. He was seen rising
up from the garden one night and flying to the sky. Who exactly saw
this nobody knew, but this belief had forever remained among those
at the Euthanasia Nursing Home.

[1] John 14, 1-6; 27

[2] John 15, 9-19
[3] John 16, 1-2;32-33