Apocalypse of Jude

Evelin drives her car up along a steep gradient of a hill of the lone mountain, that stands beneath the rib-clouded blue sky stretching across the east and west of things. She turns into a long avenue of gnarled oaks shading the road in dappled sunlight.

“My grandmother’s got this small house and garden tucked away in a little cul-de-sac, and stays with a woman whose looked after her for years.”

Evelin turns her car into a small enclave road and into a cobbled drive.

“Ah, this is so quaint.” “

“Isn’t it just so. It is always reminding me of Red Riding Hood’s grandmother’s house.”

“Does that make you Red Riding Hood then?”

Evelin laughs.

“Kind of. When I told my grandmother that, she was like, ‘Now don’t you worry about the big bad wolf dear. He’s been bound for a thousand years.’”

Evelin shrugs, showing she knows not what it means.

“I think that’s what I love about visiting Gran. It’s like I’m going into this magical realm that’s protected from this world. But Gran’s not out of time herself mind you.”

They leave the car behind and approach a small cottage with thatched roof, and simple rounded gables. Over the veranda rises the pergola hanging with beautiful small roses. On the veranda stands a strong matronly figure, robust and colourful with a glorious white smile.

“Hello my young Evelin.” Her voice is round and textured.

“Hello Sophie.”

Sophie envelops Evelin in a hug which Evelin gives into pulling a sideways goofy face at Audrey.

“Who is your friend?”

“Sophie, this is Audrey. She’s thinking about joining the family.”

“Is that so?” Sophie turns her beaming face to Audrey.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Audrey. You have a good friend in Evelin.”

“Is Gran in?” “Oh yes of course dear. Come in.”

She ushers them into the cool dark house where the smell of baking over powers the other senses. A flour-dusted figure in apron emerges from the kitchen directly in front of them, light pouring in from the window behind her, illuminating her grey hair in a silver lining.

“I knew you were coming, so I baked some Christmas Mince pies. But you’ll have to wait for a little while for the batch to cool.”

There is a twinkle in her eye.

“Now no need to fuss. Go settle yourselves in the lounge. I’ll just dust myself and be right with you. Sophie will get some tea ready.”

The wizened figure disappears back into the light. Evelin directs Audrey through to the lounge where they settle on the window seat. The bright light coming in somehow doesn’t lighten the room with its dark furniture and baked-tile floor, but rather gives the cool gloom its own illumination, while the softness of the cushions and the length of the curtains warm it all up.

“Hello my dear.” She comes matter-of-factly through and Evelin rises to meet her in an embrace.

“Hello Gran.”

“I knew you would come today. Strange isn’t it.”

Her eyes are bright, watery, twinkling. Audrey stands to greet her.

“Gran, this is Audrey. A new friend of mine.”

“Oh. How lovely.” She looks at Audrey peculiarly.

“You look so sad, but you know sadness is good for the heart. Sometimes it is in a sad heart that the wisdom of Christ lies waiting to be found.”

Audrey looks a little perturbed as she sits.

“Don’t be alarmed dear. I have things to tell you both today that will sound very dark. But they are not the idle words of a scared old woman. They have the light of Life.”

Evelin has sat down alongside Audrey again.

“What is it Gran?”

The elderly woman rests gracefully into an armchair of out worn use.

“Remember child when you used to say you were Red Riding Hood coming to see me.”

Evelin laughs gaily at the memory.

“I just told Audrey that as we arrived. ‘Now don’t you worry about the big bad wolf dear. He’s been bound for a thousand years. And one day I will tell you why.’”

Evelin’s voice enters a hush as the last words fall from her tongue. Sophie brings through a tray and sets in on the table settling in the midst of the room.

“Come help yourself girls. Sophie does make a fine cup of tea.”

Both come forward, taking the china and silver awkwardly in the atmosphere of lightened darkness.

“You cannot imagine the pleasure it gives me to see your youth sit before me listening to my nattering over a cup of tea.”

Sophie settles herself in similarly worn chair across from grandmother.

“It’s funny the things you savour. Stupid little things. The first sip of tea. The sun in its right spot at tea time. It’s almost lovely living in the so constant present. But of course, Sophie sometimes over draws the tea or a cloud dulls the sun, and a memory comes out of nowhere. I daresay with no more intention than desiring to see hurt drawn from joy. Oh I do gabble on don’t I.”

She takes some time to sip from her cup and contemplate.

“It’s been a long hard year hasn’t it girls. For both of you. And it’s going to get harder. I don’t know if I want to be part of it much longer.”

“Gran, stop talking like that.”

“Oh go on child. You talk to me like I’m an adolescent playing for pity.”

“But look at you. Still doing it all by yourself. Full of vitality.”

“Whoever said I was doing this by myself. And I don’t mean Sophie here, though she’s a godsend. The vitality you see in me isn’t me. What vitality could possible be left in this old worn out body? It’s God my child, and He will keep me till it’s time for me to go out this world for a little while.”

They sit sipping in silence, with Sophie dozing her portly, ageing figure quietly in her chair.

“Now, come, tell me why you came?”

“I wanted to ask you if we could borrow your Christmas decorations. We want to have a celebration tonight, but both of us were just feeling too tired to brave the mad rush and go buy something.”

“Of course you are dear. You’re about to make two and a half generations three and a half.”

The blood drains from Evelin’s face as comprehension sinks in.

“You mean to say… How do you know?…Are you sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. The Lord showed it to me when you walked in the door. You’re about to complete your generation.”

“Hallelujah.” Evelin’s shout merely brings a broad smile from the dozing Sophie, as Evelin turns and suddenly hugs an increasingly perturbed Audrey.

“Do you hear that Audrey? A baby. I’m going to have a baby. Geoff and I have been trying the whole year and just nothing.”

She lets go and jumps up to embrace her grandmother who receives her with grace.

“May God’s peace be with you my child.”

Evelin stands suddenly back from her grandmother, a little warily.

“Why His peace Gran? Why not His blessing? Or His joy?”

Then she takes another faltering step back.

“Why are you telling me this Gran? Why did God show you this?”

She suddenly remembers her grandmother’s earlier words and sits down looking rather ashen.

“Today’s the day you’re going to tell me.” Her grandmother nods her head gravely.

“That’s why He showed me dear. So I would know today is the day. But do not let your heart be troubled dear. You know the Way to His house and it cannot be taken from you. For a thousand years the old wolf will be kept out of the wood to keep him from deceiving people anymore than he already has. And during this time we will rule as keepers of the wood with its King, because we have not believed the lies of the old wolf that have lived on in the trees and spirits of the wood. But there will come a time when our time, times and half a time to rule as woodcutters, to ensure that the health of the wood and those of us who live in it, will come to a close. The great river that runs through the wood will dry up and three evil frogs will croak out to the whole forest to gather for the return of the bad old wolf, so that they might make war on the King of the Wood. ‘But behold,’ says our King to us, ‘I come like a forest fire. Blessed is he whose woodpile is stocked so that he will not go cold in the desolate waste that will follow fire.’ But in the meantime, the peoples’ of the wood will gather and surround the King’s castle where we, His people, live. And with them will come the bad old wolf, and they will destroy us, take over the city of our King and gloat over our dead bodies, because no more will our axes cut into their trees. But after a short while, our King’s fire will come and devour them, and we will be restored, our woodpiles burning fires in heaven for eternity. We do not know when these things will come to pass. But we do know that these things are already happening my Child. The city God loves is already being overrun and the peoples of the earth are laughing at our approaching death. That is why I bless you with Christ’s peace and caution your heart not to be troubled, for that wolf can not take away your Life from you. You need not fear death. And when you hear the wind, you need not ask what it that noise under the door, what is the wind doing?”

An unresolved tension about how to react lies on both the young women’s faces.

“This is the way things are meant to be child. Now I think we’d better get on and find these decorations. You’ll have to pull them out though. They’re up top of the cupboard in the spare room. Probably the reason why I don’t have them out. Do you want another cup of tea?”

Evelin looks at a visibly shaken Audrey.

“I think maybe we should be going. We have a lot of stuff to do.”

The old woman looks peacefully at them.

“Come then, let me show you, and get you on your way. Sophie, can you pack those mince pies for Evelin.”

They follow her into a dark, gloomy passage and emerge into a room with a vacant bed, unslept in for a long time, though the linen is fresh.

“You’re going to have to stand on a chair dear. You know the last time these were down was before your parents left two years ago. I reckon, so knowing your father, they’re probably tightly packed in.”

Indeed Evelin is pulling and tugging almost losing her balance as the box slides suddenly out.

“Woah.” She hands it down to Audrey standing lightless in the gloom, intensifying the glow of the old woman even more.

“Put it on the bed child and open it up.”

Audrey lays out the box lid next to the box where inside the dull reflective glow of shimmering reds, dark greens and gold shine back at her, opening shining reservoirs of delight in the old woman’s eyes, who runs her hands over the surface, flickering the shimmer of tinsel.

“So many years wrapped around each of these things. I’m glad you can wrap your experiences around them now. So many stories I can tell by just touching one of these items. But I shan’t keep you.”

She puts the lid back on. The girls are gathered awkwardly in the pristine room, the white bedspread, tassels hanging to the floor, a little creased now from the box. She gives the box back to Audrey.

“You carry them my dear. It seems you are the most in need of light.”

She turns and bustles ahead of them.

“I’m just going to see if Sophie’s got your pies ready.”

They don’t move, looking after her, and the tension breaks in whispers between them.

“Evelin I can’t deal with this. It’s like she is seeing right through me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve never known her like this. Come. Let’s go.”

They are met by her in the exit of the passage way, the light behind her streaming in over the oak dining room table, reflecting off it. The old woman proffers a plastic container into the hands of Evelin.

“Thank you Gran. For these, the decorations and what you told me. I really mean it. I don’t really understand, but I’ll let you know about it.”

She simply touches her bosom.

“I know you do. It’s been so wonderful seeing you. Thank you for thinking of me.”

They are still bottled up in the passage way exit. Audrey moves forward wanting to unbottle herself, and the old woman steps aside and gives way. Her mouth smiles, knowing the rejection but seeing far deeper and beyond it to the soul that is before her. And inside her she loves despite the loneliness and the pain of her own.

/this one is so much like me/ /bless her Lord/ /thank you for bringing her back into your kingdom/ /keep her in your loving heart and heal her I pray/

The two young women walk through the streaming light to the front door.

“Bye bye Sophie.”

“Bye Evelin.” She emerges in the kitchen doorway.

“May the good Lord bless you and your friend this Christmas.”

“Thank you Sophie. You too.”

They exit without further hesitation and slide the car out of the drive, leaving the garden to its house and its inhabitants.

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 41