The End is Now Read online

  “Henna tattoos wash off.”

  “Oh, so it’s like those tattoos they give away in packs of gum.”

  “They’re a little more intense than that. They last for weeks.”

  “Weeks. Wow.”

  “Weeks are a big deal when that’s all we have left.”

  “I know, that’s why I said wow,” Jeff said. “Okay, so let me guess, he had you tattoo the number 666 on your hands?”

  “No.”

  “No,” Jeff said, “then what number?”

  “He used the numbers one, two, three, and four, which can all easily add up to six.”

  “They can also add up to seven, eight, and nine,” Jeff said. And that’s when Jeff stopped himself. What sort of conversation was he in? Was everyone actually saying Mr. Clayton, who had the guts to step up and be the leader at a difficult time, was the Antichrist because of his initials and bubble gum tattoos? This was insane. The whole town had gone crazy.

  “I can see you’re skeptical, Jeff,” the voice said.

  “Yeah, actually, I am,” Jeff agreed because that was the first thing this person said that made a lick of sense. He was skeptical. Not because he didn’t try, though. No matter what Amy, or this guy in the cell, or anyone else thought, he did try to believe. He tried to have a supernatural experience in his motel when the reflection in his TV talked to him. And he thought he had had an experience. At the time it was making a lot of sense. It told him to help his son deliver the last prophecy. He was moved by the reflection’s words. He was touched that something so grand and great as the rapture was happening and his son was right in the center of it all. The Hendersons would change the destiny of this town.

  So what happened?

  Amy, the mayor, and Will all made a plan without him. Will gave the prophecy and the mayor died. Jeff was told he needed to help his son deliver the final prophecy but he never had the chance to act. It all went on as if he didn’t even exist. The reflection had been wrong. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. The reflection hadn’t been wrong. The reflection hadn’t been there at all. Jeff was so alone and desperate that he would believe anything. And Goodland was the same way. They were so freaked out and desperate for answers that they’d believe a tornado in Kansas and the death of an overweight mayor could mean the end of everything. Goodland was the problem. Jeff had to get out of this cell. And as soon as he did he’d find any excuse he could to load his family into the car and drive out of this place. He’d drive all the way to the east coast.

  He’d drive across the Atlantic Ocean if he had to.

  “Be a skeptic if you want. You’ll know the truth soon,” the voice said.

  “I will.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what is it? What is the truth?” Jeff said. He was surprised to hear himself still talking. But what else was he supposed to do? Sit and think? He’d done all the thinking he needed to do. It was now time for action. And he would do something as soon as someone in authority walked in here. Until then he needed to pass the time.

  “The truth is, we’ve been chosen for something special,” the man’s voice said.

  “You honestly believe God has chosen us as the test market?”

  “That’s a crass, twenty-first-century way of putting it. That’s the way the Realists are putting it.”

  “How would you put it?”

  “That we’ve been given a great honor.”

  “Which is?”

  “To warn the world,” the voice said as if it were obvious.

  “About the rapture?”

  “About the end.”

  “Right. Excuse me if I’m not as excited as you are.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just wanted to have a good, regular life. I’ve never been able to have that. Everyone else gets to have this great life, they get to take their families on vacation to Disneyland and buy their kids the hottest new toy every Christmas. They get to have nice houses and stable jobs. They get to laugh with their friends and drink bottles of imported beer on lazy Sunday afternoons. I never got any of that. I always had to work lame jobs and buy my kids Christmas gifts at the dollar store. I didn’t have any friends because I worked the jobs that only teenagers were hired for because I wasn’t educated enough to work the jobs guys my age were doing. And now that everything’s finally getting better you’re telling me that the end of the world is coming. Well, that’s just great. And you’re telling me I’m supposed to be excited about it? Honestly? Pardon me if I’m not delusional enough to see all of the signs you all seem to. I just want be left alone with my family.”

  “You can’t be left alone anymore. The world is growing smaller and more fragmented, my friend. There are men leading countries with armies and tanks and weapons. These men are less stable than that guy in high school who wore a black trench coat and sniffed Sharpie markers in the corner of your chemistry class. These leaders are stocked to the teeth with nuclear weapons and God knows what else that could level entire countries with the push of a button. The polar ice caps are melting and the ozone is ripping to pieces like a cheap white sheet. Hurricanes, floods, and tsunamis are getting worse and worse every year, destroying entire cities. Here in the U.S. of A., husbands and wives are cheating on each other and not even lying about it anymore and our kids are loading up with 357s and gunning each other down in the streets.

  “And you want to go to Disneyland?” the man asked. “But you know what, Jeff, I used to be like you. I wanted to get the sale and take care of my family. But the worse part is, I wasn’t even taking care of my family. I realized that when I stood in the breakroom and saw that tornado ripping apart the school. I thought my little girl was going to die in there, and the worst part is, I’ve been so busy trying to earn money to take care of her that I don’t even know her. And when I finally got to hold her, when I got to see and touch all the bruises and cuts on her, it snapped for me, man. I tried to ignore it at first. The next day I tried to go on like I was the same guy. But then the ice storm, the mayor, I couldn’t deny it, you know? I had to admit something’s going on here. And so I made a decision: I wasn’t going to be that old guy anymore. I wasn’t going to turn a blind eye anymore.”

  Jeff actually felt for this guy. He talked with so much conviction. And his voice was so familiar. Who was he? A neighbor? A manager at the grocery store? Whoever he was, Jeff thought maybe he could talk some sense into him. “No, friend,” Jeff said, “I used to be like you. I wanted to believe something big was going on here. But it doesn’t make sense. At all. Why would God choose Goodland? Don’t you think that if he was going to warn the world, he would do so in New York City or London or Tokyo? It would make sense to have the rapture tested in a big city. But Goodland’s so off the map, how would anyone even notice? Don’t you see how crazy it is? And why does the world even need to be warned? Why not just end it all?”

  “If the rapture happened in New York City it wouldn’t be a test market — it would actually bring about the end of the world. New York is too big. If that city shut down, it’d have global effects. Same with Tokyo, London, or any other major city. But when the rapture happens in Goodland it won’t have any global effects. Everyone can keep on going like they are if they want. However, people will know what happened here. Don’t you understand, Jeff, with the internet and twenty-four-hour news coverage, everyone will see what happened to our town and they will have a decision to make. And God wants everyone to see because he gives us every chance he can. The end is so close, not just for Goodland, but for all of us. No one can see it because we’re too worried about the Crate and Barrel decorations in our houses and waxing our new shiny red cars. No one can see how close everything is from unraveling because we’re too comfortable. We need a wake-up call. And God has chosen us to deliver that wake-up call. It’s how God works. He didn’t just flood the earth, He had Noah warn everyone, He had Jonah warn Nineveh that fire and brimstone was going to rain down on them. Don’t you understand? Planet Earth is Ni
neveh and Goodland is Jonah.”

  Jeff didn’t respond to this at first. He was letting these words sink in. But he was also trying to figure out who he was talking with. And that’s when Jeff said, “Kevin?”

  “Yeah, Jeff.”

  “Kevin Grabowski from Hansley?”

  “The one and only.”

  Kevin was the most cold-blooded shark Jeff had ever known. Kevin would sell expensive cars to customers who couldn’t afford them. He’d lie, smile, tell Yankees fans he hated the Sox and Sox fans he hated the Yankees. Kevin once looked a client in the eyes and told her that he, too, had lost a child to cancer, just so he could get a sale. Kevin was the guy who originally started joking that Goodland was the test market for the rapture. This same Kevin was now preaching to him? Jeff hadn’t been able to tell it was Kevin’s voice throughout the conversation because it sounded nothing like him. Kevin’s voice was always gruff and direct and to the point. It was a trademark. The voice that had been talking to him was a soft, compassionate whisper. Only during that speech did the old Kevin come out.

  It freaked Jeff out that Kevin was defending the rapture so adamantly. Now he knew what people in zombie movies felt like when they were already in a stressful situation, only to do a double take and realize that an old friend had also turned into a zombie. It was still their face but it wasn’t them anymore — their eyes were yellow and their skin was rotting and all they could think about was eating brains.

  That was Kevin now. He’d become a zombie.

  Jeff pulled on the bars of the cell with every muscle, so desperate to get out, that for a moment, he envisioned himself pulling the bars apart and freeing himself. But the bars didn’t budge. They were metal. They were designed to keep prisoners in. Jeff should have known better. But he couldn’t think. He needed to get out. He’d go crazy if he were in here any longer. And in the first stroke of good luck that Jeff had in days, that’s exactly when Sergeant Mike walked through the green, rusted metal door.

  “Officer, let me out, I have work to do,” Kevin said.

  Mike didn’t even look at him. Instead he walked straight up to Jeff’s cell and said, “How are you?”

  “I want out of here.”

  “You shouldn’t have charged the field like that.”

  “I know.”

  “You freaked a lot of the top brass out.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “They want to press some serious charges.”

  “Okay, fine, but can I get out of here on bail? I don’t know what’s going on out there, Mike. My family needs me.”

  “You can get out of here on bail, but it’s going to take a while, Jeff. It’s taking everything we have just to keep this town under control. But that’s why I’m here. I can help you out right now if you can help me with something.”

  “Anything.”

  “We need some extra men for the Emergency Police Force. If you’ll serve on it with us until things get back under control, I can let you out right now.”

  “Don’t do it,” Kevin shouted from his cell. “They want you to join their side, Jeff, and that’s not where you belong!”

  Jeff didn’t say anything back to Kevin. He just looked Mike in the eyes with the desperate sort of look that only a father could have, the look that said “I’d join the Nazis and follow Hitler himself if I could just be with my family.” Jeff nodded that he’d join. He’d do anything Mike asked of him.

  And that’s when Mike fished the keys out of his pocket and said, “All right, come on, let’s get you out of here.”

  THE HENDERSONS

  Amy sat at the kitchen table staring at the coffee pot. It was brewing a new pot, but it was taking an eternity. We need a new pot, she thought. I asked Jeff for one last Christmas and he didn’t get me one because he thought we should all pitch in for a new TV. And now I have to deal with this coffee pot that takes a lifetime to brew a pot of coffee.

  Amy needed the coffee. It was the only thing giving her strength. The only thing that would allow her to think straight. There was so much to do.

  First of all, Emily was nowhere to be found, and she needed Emily to stay with Will so she could go find Jeff, but it seemed like Emily was barely even a member of the family anymore. Fine, so be it, Emily, Amy thought as she stared at the drip, drip, drip of the coffee. But I need to find my husband. He was carted off last night in front of God and everyone else like he was Lee Harvey Oswald. What did they think he was trying to do? He’s a local businessman, he pays his taxes, attends church; he’s been a valued member of this community for his whole life and they lasso him like he’s a stuck pig.

  The nerve.

  Amy picked up the phone and called the police station again. She’d lost track of how many times she’d called. And again it was the same teenage-sounding kid whose voice cracked with every other word, and who said, “I’m sorry ma’am. I’ve already told you I can’t answer any specifics about your husband’s case. You’ll have to wait until someone in authority gets back.”

  Amy asked, “When is someone in authority going to get back?” All the teenager said was, “I’m not sure ma’am.”

  Amy slammed the phone down. Jeff, Emily, how have you done this again? How have you left me to clean up your mess? She wasn’t sure if she was thinking all of this or saying it out loud. She wasn’t even sure what cup of coffee she was on. Her twelfth? Thirteenth? Her hand shook as the pot finally finished brewing so she could pour herself another cup. She drank it and it didn’t even taste warm anymore. Or maybe it was warm and her mouth had gone numb so she couldn’t tell the difference between hot and cold. She needed to stand up. She needed to do something. Everything around her looked grainy and blurry like a VHS tape that’s been watched one too many times.

  She went to the bathroom, washed her face, and when she looked at herself in the mirror, she saw that her eyes were so bloodshot that she couldn’t tell if there had ever been any white in them. She needed to sleep. She’d tried to sleep. But sleeping just made things worse. She saw the same image over and over when she closed her eyes: she and Will were standing on a cloud wearing white while Jeff and Emily were miles below them screaming out and engulfed by flames.

  It was the direction her family was heading.

  They’d been torn apart and needed to be reunited. But to do that she had to get out of the house. And she couldn’t get out of the house without Emily. She needed her daughter to watch Will. There was no way Amy was going to take her son to the police station to see all the crime and filth and the underbelly of Good-land. He’d seen more than his share of disturbing things already. It was starting to weigh on him. Last night on the way home he actually asked, “Mom, did I kill the mayor?” Amy tried to tell him of course he didn’t. That’s crazy. It was something that had to happen, and Will nodded at her as if he understood. But she was not so sure that she understood herself.

  The more Amy thought about things, the more she experienced this deep-down, primal need to reunite her family. She was the mother and that was her job. She took a swig of coffee, picked up the phone, and dialed Emily’s number again. And to Amy’s surprise she answered. “Hi, Mom?”

  “Emily, there you are. Where have you been?”

  “I stayed at Curtis’ house last night?”

  “You what?”

  “Don’t get all freaked out, we stayed in different rooms and we didn’t even do anything.”

  “Have you done something before?” Amy knew she was going off track but she had to ask this question. This was the roller coaster of being a parent. One moment you’re so happy just to be talking with your daughter. And then the next your daughter says something like, “We didn’t do anything.” It was as if Emily was saying we did things other nights, but last night we abstained. And that made Amy feel like a first-time skydiver who’d just jumped from a plane and forgotten her parachute. “Emily, have you? Have you done something before? Anytime before?”

  “Gross! No, Mom.”

  “Okay,
why didn’t you come home?”

  “Because, I don’t know, everything’s been crazy at home. I wanted to get away.”

  “Oh, it’s been crazy at home. I’m so sorry. Has it ever occurred to you it’s been crazy for all of us?”

  “I understand, Mom. I know it has been.”

  “Do you realize your father’s in jail right now?”

  “Still? Are you sure?”

  “What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I’m sure. If he wasn’t in jail he’d be home by now.”

  “It’s just, I talked to Mr. Clayton and he said he was going to get Dad out of jail.”

  “You talked to who?”

  “Mr. Clayton.”

  “As in Mayor Clayton?”

  “Yes.”

  “As in the Antichrist mayor?”

  “Mom, you don’t know that he’s the Antichrist.”

  “You don’t know that he’s not the Antichrist. And why were you talking to him?”

  “Because I was at his house and I told him about Dad — ”

  “Wait, you’re dating the Antichrist’s son?”

  “We’re not dating exactly, we’re just going to homecoming together.”

  Amy didn’t say anything for a moment. She took another drink of cold/hot coffee (she still wasn’t sure which it was — but at this point it was fuel) and then said, “Emily, I need you to come home right now. Thing are getting very tense and you need to be with your family.”

  “Mr. Clayton says things are going back to normal.”

  “Well, he’s the Antichrist, honey. He would want things to go back to normal.”

  “The Antichrist wants things to go back to normal?”

  “No, the Antichrist wants you to think things are going back to normal. You know what, I don’t have time to argue. Come home so you can watch your brother and I can find your dad.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I’ll check with the mayor and make sure he gets Dad out. I love you, Mom.” Click. She hung up. Just like that. On her own mother. Amy was ready to dial her again but that’s when the phone rang.