The End is Now Page 14

  “No baby, I think everything’s right with you. You listen to me; you have been given a very important gift. The signs the face gave to you are very important. They’re from God, and they’ll tell us how to prepare for the rapture,” Amy said.

  “How do you know they’re from God?”

  “Because they came true.”

  “So if they didn’t come true they’d be from Satan?”

  “Um, probably. I don’t know, honey.”

  “I thought Dad wanted me to forget everything the face said.”

  “Your dad was just trying to get the mayor to leave. He’s a little worried.”

  “Oh,” Will said. “Does Dad think the face is Satan?”

  “I haven’t thought about that.”

  “He probably thinks the face is Satan. I thought the face might be Satan at first.”

  “You did?” Amy asked.

  “Yeah, but then I realized the face didn’t have horns. The face had a beard. And Satan never has a beard. Normally only people who are interested in God have beards. And that’s probably because God has a beard. If the face had been clean-shaven I wouldn’t have listened to him. It would have been a dead giveaway that he was up to no good.”

  “So, does the face visit you often?”

  “Nope, only that one time in the cornfield. I’ve asked him to come back but he hasn’t. I figure he has lots of other things to do,” Will said.

  “You’re probably right,” Amy agreed.

  The news station was much smaller than Amy thought it would be. On TV it looked like this large room with commanding oak desks and the sprawling Goodland skyline in the background. But here it was just this tiny set where everything looked plastic and flimsy — the desk looked like it could snap in half if you leaned on it wrong and the background appeared as if it was cut out of a large magazine and pasted on the back wall with a glue stick.

  It was a little disappointing. Not that Amy really had a reason to feel disappointed. It was just that her son was about to have his first televised statement, and that should be in a place that was as grand and important as what he was about to say. Apparently, Goodland Channel 4 wasn’t that place.

  Will and Amy waited for twenty minutes as the producer ran around making one frantic phone call after another. Finally she came up to them and said, “We’re really happy you want to give our station the exclusive.”

  “We just want to get his story out,” Amy said. “We want people to know what really happened.”

  “That makes perfect sense,” Monica said. Amy hated how agreeable she was. She knew the producer was just buttering them up to get what she wanted. Then again, Amy was using Channel 4 to get what she wanted, so it probably all worked out in the end.

  “All right, so we’re just going to ask Will a couple of questions. And Will, you just answer them honestly,” Monica said.

  “Yeah, okay,” Will agreed.

  “You can ask him about anything but the next sign,” Amy butted in.

  “The next sign?” Monica asked.

  “Ask him all you want about the tornado, the school, the cornfields, but I don’t want him talking about the next sign.”

  “I guess I didn’t realize there was more than one,” Monica said.

  “Me neither,” Nancy Palmer added, scribbling down notes on a notepad. She appeared out of nowhere and Amy noticed how great she looked all of a sudden. When Nancy had first arrived at the station she looked horrible. Monica had called her and told her she had to come in for this interview. Nancy had walked into the studio with bags under her eyes, frizzy hair, and wearing a large dumpy trench coat. Twenty minutes later she had her makeup, hair, and wardrobe done and she looked ready to change the world.

  Amy wondered if she could change the world if she had a whole team helping her look great. I look better than Nancy when I wake up, she thought. What if I had a whole hair, wardrobe, and makeup crew? For some reason Amy thought that Nancy made herself up for the nightly newscast. But now she knew the truth: Nancy had a whole team. All she really had to do was read words off a TV screen. Amy wondered what else she had misconceptions about. She’d always been so intimidated by the outside world, but lately she was starting to realize it was all smoke and mirrors. Amy was starting to understand she could have been just as important as these women newscasters and producers — maybe even more — if she hadn’t blatantly disobeyed God’s perfect will and gotten pregnant when she was eighteen.

  “So then, how many signs are there?” Monica asked.

  “Three,” Will said.

  “And the tornado was the first one?” Nancy asked.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Will answered.

  “Okay, I can’t ask him specifically about the next sign, but can I ask him how many signs there are?” Nancy asked Amy.

  “Yeah, sure, I’d appreciate if you did ask that,” Amy said.

  “Just out of curiosity, why don’t you want Will talking about the next sign?” Monica asked.

  “I want his father here for that,” Amy said.

  “But Mrs. Henderson, Will saved so many lives by telling his prophecy the last time,” Monica said.

  “I know what my son did,” Amy said.

  “Then you realize he can save as many lives again.”

  “What I realize is I can take him to Channel 9 instead and they’ll be happy to respect my requests about the interview.”

  “Okay,” Monica said and flashed a smile. Then she turned to Nancy, “No questions about the next prophecy.”

  Amy sat in the makeup room watching a stylist feather her son’s hair. It really was impressive to watch. She sculpted each strand with such confidence, and Amy was amazed as Will’s hair went exactly where the stylist wanted.

  How come his hair won’t do that for me?

  Monica popped her head in the door and said, “Okay, we’re firing everything up now and we’ll be ready for Will in five.” Then she left. She didn’t even look at Amy. It was probably because she was still upset that they couldn’t ask about the next sign. But Amy had her reasons. Right now was about getting him on the air and having him become a friendly, trustworthy face. And then, when the time was right, maybe later today or even tomorrow, they would stand as a family and Will would give them the next sign. And ultimately it would be her family — not the stupid mayor or Mike or anyone else — that would lead Goodland to the end.

  It was so exciting.

  Amy could almost picture what the day would look like. It would start with all of her family and the rest of Goodland on a hill looking up towards the sky. Maybe they’d all be wearing white. They would hear the trumpets blaring this perfect heavenly blast. The sky would split open, glowing with ultraviolet, crimson, and tangerine hues. It would probably also be lit up with other colors that hadn’t even been invented yet. And everyone on the grassy hill would be so enraptured with the colors that they wouldn’t notice themselves becoming light as balloons and floating off the ground.

  The floating would be the best part.

  It’d be better than any amusement park ride ever created. They’d float into the air (maybe it’d even feel like the hand of God was pulling them up) and as they’d float higher, they’d watch their houses, then Goodland, then Kansas, then the entire country become ant-sized and eventually disappear. And soon they’d stop looking at the earth all together. They would look up towards the sky as they passed through the atmosphere and then there would only be heaven and eternity to think about. Of course Amy knew this was a fantasy. She knew the end of the world wouldn’t be as romantic as she was picturing it.

  When they finally got Will on the set Amy thought Will looked so grown up. And he looked grown up more than just in a my-boy’s-growing-up-so-fast way. He actually looked like an adult. She’d always wondered what he’d look like as a thirty-year-old with kids of his own. Of course now with the rapture she would probably never know. After all, we don’t become grown-ups in heaven, do we? How old are we in heaven? And as Amy thoug
ht this she realized maybe there was something to be sad about with the end of the world. She would never get to see Will and Emily as adults. She would never get to hold her grandkids. She would be in her thirties and Will and Emily would be preteens and teenagers for all of eternity.

  So, as she looked at her handsome son in his blazer with his hair done so professionally, she thought this may be the closest she’d ever get to seeing him as an adult. And Amy was glad he looked so grown up, because once the cameras started to roll and the reporter started to talk, she knew he was completely on his own.

  “Good morning, Goodland,” Nancy said as she smiled and flashed her flawless teeth to the camera. “We’re here with Will Henderson, the fifth-grade student who caused quite the ruckus four days ago when he predicted the Jefferson Elementary Disaster. And yesterday his prediction came true when a tornado came out of nowhere and did quite a bit of damage to the elementary school. Now this morning, Will has agreed to give Channel 4 his first public statement on all of the events of the last couple of days.” Nancy then turned to Will. “Good morning, Will.”

  “Good morning,” Will responded.

  “So, why don’t we start with the tornado?”

  “Okay.”

  “How’d you feel watching it?”

  “Sad,” Will said.

  “Why were you sad?”

  “’Cause, um,” Will squirmed.

  What’s up with the one-word answers? Amy thought. Was he getting shy? Don’t get shy, Will. You’ve got to be strong and confident if you want people to follow you as a prophet.

  “Is it because your friends were in there?” Nancy asked.

  “Yeah. I mean a lot of people think just because I said the school was going to be destroyed that I wanted it to be destroyed. But that’s not the truth. Whoever thinks that is just lying to themselves. And why would people want to lie to themselves?”

  “I’m not sure,” Nancy answered.

  “All I know is I loved that school. I grew up there.”

  “If you loved the school, why’d you say it would be destroyed?”

  “I was just telling everyone what the face told me.”

  “The face?” Nancy asked, leaning in.

  “Yeah, it’s a face that I saw one night when I was lost in Mr. Johnson’s cornfield.”

  “Do you see the face often?”

  “Nope, I’ve only seen him that one time.”

  “Have you ever seen anything else like this face?”

  “You mean like angels and demons and supernatural stuff?”

  “Yeah, things like that,” Nancy said.

  “Nope. I’ve wanted to. I mean, doesn’t everybody want to see stuff like that? It’s like if God’s real and there are all these angels and demons around, then how come we don’t see them? Haven’t you thought that?”

  “I suppose I have,” Nancy said. Then she asked, “So, who do you think the face is?”

  “God,” Will answered. “I’m sort of like the story of Moses and the burning bush. Of course, I’ve also thought maybe the face is an angel of God. Sometimes they came to deliver messages in the Bible. Like when the angel told Mary she was pregnant. But I don’t think the face is Jesus. There aren’t stories in the Bible about Jesus coming back and giving messages. And my mom has told me stories where some people say they’ve gotten a message from Jesus like his face appearing in a piece of bread or on the side of a wall, but I think those people are just imagining stuff because they’re bored.”

  “So you think some people actually have visions and other people just imagine their visions?” Nancy asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Okay, so let me ask you this — how are you so sure you didn’t just imagine the face?”

  “Um, two reasons I guess. The first reason is I know when I’m imagining something and when something is real. And the bigger reason is what the face said came true. I mean, that school has been there my whole life, and nothing bad has ever happened to it. And then all of a sudden it’s destroyed around the time the face said it was going to be. That’s pretty crazy, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Nancy said. “Let me follow up on that real quick though — why was there so much confusion about the timing of the tornado?”

  “That was my fault. I misunderstood what the face was saying. He said three days and I didn’t know when the three days were starting.”

  “Was there anything else the face told you?”

  “Yeah, he said there would be three total signs that the rapture was coming. The tornado was the first.”

  “Do you know what the rapture is, Will?”

  “It’s the end of everything. God will take all the Christians like that,” Will said as he snapped his fingers, “and then everyone else is going to suffer. I think there’s going to be fires and wars and Antichrists and stuff like that after the rapture.”

  “Wow, that sounds pretty bad.”

  “Not for Christians.”

  “True,” Nancy said, seeming a little awkward about where the conversation was going. “All right, let’s go back to what the face told you. There are going to be three signs?”

  “That’s right.”

  “The tornado was the first.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you can’t tell what the next two are going to be?” Nancy asked.

  “No,” Will said. “My mom said the time’s not right. But don’t worry, I’ll tell you before it’s too late.”

  “Okay, well then let me ask you this. There are still people who are doubting all of this. I might even be one of them. Why should we believe you?”

  “Because everything the face said has come true.”

  “Right, but you’ve only given us the one thing the face has said.”

  “And that one thing came true.”

  “Yeah, sure, that one thing did come true. But that’s not what I’m getting at.”

  “What are you getting at?” Will asked. Amy wasn’t sure if Will was asking an honest question or antagonizing Nancy, but he was clearly gaining control of the interview.

  “There may be some people who are still processing what to make of the Jefferson Elementary Disaster. But does that really mean we should honestly believe that the apocalypse is coming? A tornado equals the end of life in Goodland? It doesn’t even make sense. This is Kansas. Tornados come all the time. And most kids have some subconscious fantasy that their school is going to be ruined. It’s just those two things happened to line up for once. You had a lucky guess, Will, right? I don’t think that means we should all suddenly get ready for the afterlife.”

  “I’m not sure what your question is.”

  “I don’t have one. I’m just saying I’m not sure I can believe you. I don’t see any reason anyone else should either,” Nancy said, looking and sounding far more upset than Amy or anyone else had ever seen her. Normally she was always so composed, but Will seemed to be making her unravel.

  And the weaker she got, the stronger Will seemed. His eyes became steely and focused as he looked right into the lens of the camera (it almost seemed that he had the power to look past the camera and into the living room of every home in Goodland). “You can believe whatever you want. I’ll tell all of you what I know when the time is right and then it’s up to you how to react. You can believe the rapture is coming. Or you can believe that some crazy little kid is making all of this up. But when the end comes and all the Christians are gone and there is nothing left but fires and wars and beast marks, you might want to blame someone. You might feel like shouting, ‘Why didn’t somebody tell me this was going to happen?’ But you know what, you’re not going to be able to shout that. Because someone did tell you this was going to happen. Then the only person you’ll have left to blame will be yourself. And that will suck for you.”

  JEFF HENDERSON

  The idea that the world could actually be ending came with an unintended side effect — it turned Goodland into the happiest place in Kansas. Truthful
ly, you’d be hard-pressed to find a happier place in Oklahoma, Nebraska, Missouri, or Colorado either. And this didn’t make sense to Jeff. He thought the idea of Armageddon would send all of his friends and neighbors into a panic. And if there wasn’t a panic, he thought families would, at the very least, hunker down, lock themselves into basements and fallout shelters, and wait to see what happened next.

  But on the morning after Will’s first prophecy came true, Jeff drove to work, dumbfounded to see that the streets were bubbling with enthusiasm. It felt like Mardi Gras — at least a really wholesome, small-town, Kansas Mardi Gras. People were grilling out, laughing, hugging, and sitting on lawn chairs and chatting away as if the rest of their lives were going to be one lazy Sunday afternoon.

  To everyone in Goodland, the rapture seemed like either one big joke or the best news ever.

  Jeff noticed a lot of the shops in town were closed for business. And he wondered if perhaps Hansley Automotive would also be closed. But it wasn’t. The pre-owned automotive lot was swarming with people. Jeff was running a few minutes late; he’d overslept because the last few days had taken such a toll on him, so he rushed out of the house before he even talked to Amy or Will. And when he got to work he realized he was late on the one morning everyone wanted to buy a car. They were selling cars off the lot as if they were hip Christmas gifts. It was as if the Lexuses, Audis, and Hummers were Tickle Me Elmos and Cabbage Patch dolls — like every parent knew their families would be disappointed if they didn’t walk off the lot with the new car.

  Jeff couldn’t miss out on this chance to make monster commissions.

  His first customer was named Marsha Peterson and she lived just a half mile away from the Hendersons. Jeff had known her for years. And he knew that she was not the type of person he’d even picture in a brand new Hummer. Yet somehow that’s exactly what she had her eye on: a bright, shiny, brand-new, sunflower yellow H3.

  She was ready to close on it, but before Jeff would close the deal he felt that he had to ask, “Do you really think you can afford an H3, Marsha?”

  “No, absolutely not. But think how great I’d look in it,” Marsha said. She didn’t even look up at Jeff. She was just staring at her reflection in the yellow paint, probably imagining herself driving away in the car.