I am getting some great feedback from my readers. You are guessing what these crazy people are up to, and it's nice to see you trying to figure out the plot. Here is another chapter ready to go. Just a few more before I go away on vacation.

The Messenger

Chapter 10

Beloved Liar

The grey clad man in the back row hesitated too long in standing up and following the orders of The Messenger. Out of the shadows two men appeared, also wearing dark suits, who took the shaken young man by the upper arms and guided him out of his chair and pulled him down the aisle towards the stage. Michael came down a small set of steps and was waiting at the front of the room when the man was placed in front of him. The suited men then stepped away and faded back into the shadows.

"Jeremiah. Why would you do this to me? My beloved Jeremiah" said Michael sadly. He stood staring at the cowed man, glaring at him until Jeremiah had to look away. The tension in the room grew heavier the longer Michael stood silently contemplating the shaky man in front of him. Michael stayed still with his eyes fixed on Jeremiah for an uncomfortably long time. Seconds stretched into minutes, until the agony of the silence was finally broken and Michael spoke again.

"Do you have an explanation for your actions?" Michael finally said, leaning in close to the man's face and speaking softly. "Is there a reason you continue to let me down, let down your friends and fellow searchers in our journey? Tell me what is on your mind Jeremiah, I want to learn from you."

Turning to the room, Michael addressed the waiting crowd.

"We all want to know what is on your mind Jeremiah. Teach us! Enrich us! Illuminate us with your considerable wisdom, your bountiful wisdom, your overflowing wisdom!" he said, punctuating each word with a poke of his long index finger into Jeremiah's chest, until he was crying out in pain. "The wisdom you had to share with your friend!"

"Teach us Jeremiah!" Michael shouted now, his face contorting into a mask of rage. "Share your knowledge, as it must surely surpass mine!"

The man in grey shook his head in confusion and horror for being caught showing disrespect to The Messenger, of all people. All eyes in the small auditorium were on the young man now.

"I… I .. I don't know anything Michael!" he blubbered, tears falling down his cheeks in panic. "I'm sorry, I don't know anything…" he cried as Michael stood back and took in the pathetic sight in front of him. "I wasn't saying anything important to John, I swear it!"

Jane leaned forward in his wheelchair, watching this frightening show of power and control. It both attracted and repulsed him. And oddly, it frightened him.

"Is this man telling the truth, or is he a liar?" Michael called out to the hushed room. "Can he be trusted or is he a pariah, a leech, a man so filled with his own self-importance that he would disregard what all of you so desperately seek to discover?" he asked, raking his eyes over the rows of solemn faces, until a voice answered his question.

"He's a liar Michael!"

Another voice lifted above the crowd. "A leech Michael!" Gradually voices rose in a cacophony of accusations…"A liar!" "The devil amongst us Michael!" "A pariah wasting your precious gifts Michael!"

Soon it was hard to discern what was being said as each person shouted his own accusations to be heard above the din. With each condemnation the man in grey seemed to shrink more and more until he cowered in front of Michael like a lamb in a lion's cage. Michael stood with his eyes shut, his head down, deep in thought. The crowd hushed. Something was about to happen.

Lifting his head, Michael sadly beheld his benighted disciple.

"Jeremiah. My friend. My beloved."

Michael ran his hand over Jeremiah's cheek, caressing it like a lover. " See how you have caused heartache? My heart is broken. Do you enjoy the pain you have caused to your brothers and sisters?" Michael asked him softly. The people stilled to hear what else The Messenger might have to say. "The chair is empty" Michael said, turning to point at the chair standing in the middle of the stage. "It is empty for a reason Jeremiah. You have stayed the advancement of all of us here at the Refuge."

Taking Jeremiah's hand in his, Michael once again lowered his voice so that all had to strain to hear his words.

"The chair stands empty, but it could have been filled today. Could you have filled it?" he asked the frightened man, who shook his head from side to side, no… not him. "Could this worthy woman have taken a seat on my right hand today Jeremiah?" asked Michael again, pointing to an older woman in deep blue sitting in the front row. She was a true believer, one of his earliest disciples. Jeremiah had a panicked look on his face. How should he answer that question? No one knew when the chair would be filled, and by whom. Who was worthy enough to be Michael's equal?

"I am sorry Michael, truly sorry" said Jeremiah, tears and snot sliding down his tortured face.

"I meant no disrespect and I know I should have been listening more and not concerned with my own thoughts and comments. I know that and I ask for correction Michael" said the man sincerely.

Michael placed his hand on the grey man's shoulder and smiled deeply, pleased to hear his words of contrition. "Thank you Jeremiah. Thank you. You have no idea how happy you make me, hearing your wise words. Growth on our path is always painful and requires public scrutiny. But you do know that you will have to unlearn your negative tendencies, don't you?" he hissed, smiling at the hapless man.

Nodding his head in agreement, Jeremiah meekly whispered "yes". At a signal from Michael, the two black suited men emerged from the shadows once again and grabbed the innocent man Jeremiah had spoken to during the speech and hauled him out of his chair in the back row. Jeremiah watched in horror as his friend John was dragged to the back of the room and disappeared through the door and out of sight.

"Michael please! John did nothing wrong! It was me! I spoke during your lecture, John ignored me, refused to speak to me, he was good Michael, he was good! It was me - correct me!" he begged, putting his hands on Michaels chest to implore him for mercy.

Michael brushed the man's hands away in disgust and spoke in a voice loud enough for all to hear.

"See how evil works my friends? See how it begins?" Heads nodded in unison as they listened in rapt attention.

"Jeremiah has poured his evil into the ear of poor brother John. Such evil cannot be unheard, contaminating the vessel and spoiling the fruit. All John has learned has been spoiled by this worm, this infection, created by Jeremiah. It will take root and rot our good friend John. Can we allow that?" The Messenger shouted.

"No Michael!" screamed the excited crowd.

"Does John need our help?" yelled Michael, whipping the people up into a frenzy.

"Yes Michael!" they replied.

"And what about poor Jeremiah? What can we do for his soul? Give me your answer!" he thundered.

"Save it!" screamed every man and woman present.

"Shall we save Jeremiah?" repeated The Messenger.

"Save him!" called the crowd as one.

Michael smiled and raised his hands up to quiet his people, his children. A hush fell over the auditorium as he turned back to look at a completely terrified Jeremiah.

"Go, and learn from your transgressions" he said, as the two black suited men stepped forward once again and guided him slowly out of the room. Jeremiah did not resist.

As Michael turned and mounted the steps to the stage, Jane leaned back in his wheelchair, bewildered by what he had just witnessed. He felt sweat on his brow and his heart racing wildly in his chest. He was feeling frightened by what he had just seen, unable to figure out what was going on. Confusion was his constant companion today and with it came a great fatigue. His nurse looked down at him and saw his anxiety, so she pulled his chair around and left the room before the rest the people started to file out. Michael had left the stage, so there was nothing more to see.

Jane felt slightly nauseous and dizzy and revived slightly once outside again in the fresh air. What the hell was going on? Where was he? Who were these people? As groups of men and women walked back across the courtyard he studied them with concern, seeing them as moving blocks of colour, not individual people. Blues walking with blues, greens with greens, the oranges and browns scurrying in another direction. They seemed like puzzle pieces re-assembling themselves randomly on a large outdoor board. Jane felt bile rising up in his throat and made to empty his stomach over the side of the wheelchair. His red-haired nurse waited until he was done heaving, then gave him a tissue and hurried inside to put him back to bed. His day had been exhausting and he was clearly not feeling well. With some help, Jane climbed up onto his bed and fell back onto the pillows with relief. The pain in his foot was ratcheting up with all of the movement he had just endured. The headache that he had awakened with was still roosting in his brain. The nurse checked his pulse and temperature, then left. A few moments later Martha came in with a syringe filled with something to calm Jane down. He didn't argue and watched as the needle pierced his arm. Was the injection also part of the show? Who else got the shot? Was that his arm feeling the sharp prick as the needle pushed the liquid under the skin? Martha studied Jane with a smile, seeing his acceptance of her treatment as a good sign. After giving him his shot, she watched as his eyes flickered, then rolled up into his head. He sighed deeply and sank into his pillow, groggy and placid. Once she was sure he was suitably sedated, Martha turned and switched on the sound system high on the wall, and once again Michael's sonorous voice filled the room, offering up another perfect lecture.