Without the phone, there was no longer any such thing as Eliza time, but that was fine with Gabriel. The sun peeked through the clouds on the horizon, rays of light reaching out into the early morning sky. Gabriel kneeled at the window. He regretted the loss of his Bible upon his transportation, so he focused on repeating verses that he knew by heart. God had particularly encouraged him to know the book of Job, and now he was glad he did.
In the reflection of the window, Gabriel saw the boy. He was trying to communicate again. Ignoring the protestation of his joints, Gabriel turned and squinted at the boy, thinking of how Eliza told him that he thought of himself as the son of God.
To his credit, the boy waited patiently as Gabriel rose and made his way to sit down in his easy chair. Eliza had shown him how to raise the leg rest for his swollen feet. This time the boy at least had a plan to cross the language barrier. He had a sheet of paper and colored pencils, on which he drew a bright yellow cross, colored in with a lazy squiggle. He drew yellow lines pointing out around in a halo. He pointed to the cross and said something.
“God,” Gabriel suggested languidly.
The boy pointed a finger and exclaimed affirmation. “God!”
The boy pulled a black pencil out of a yellow box and drew a stick figure. He pointed to himself. “Eloy.”
Gabriel nodded, growing more fascinated despite himself. Eloy drew another stick figure and whipped out a brown pencil, with which he drew a sloppy blob around the second figure. Presumably a robe. The boy pointed at him.
The next figure stood a head taller than the rest and had some scribbles near the head to give the impression of long hair. “The Spanish Woman,” Gabriel said.
“Angel,” said the boy.
Then the boy drew another two figures, one with a little green dot on the shoulder and another smaller than all the rest. He pointed to the first one. “Eliza” muttered Gabriel, furrowing his brow. Pious pride tangled with personal shame in his mind. The boy pointed to the smallest figure. “The baby,” said Gabriel.
“Destiny” said the boy.
“Yes,” Gabriel nodded.
Eloy nodded and took his black pencil. He drew a line from the cross to each figure. He pulled his pencil back and threw down an X over all the lines. Gabriel felt the same cold sweat break out that he’d been living with for the whole month he’d been here at Camp Virtue. The abrupt disconnection from the divine, more recently compounded by the shame of nearly succumbing to the despair. I insult to injury, rescue by the apparently superior faith of a little girl who had readily admitted she didn’t even belong to a church… it was still a fresh wound on his pride.
“No!” he nearly shouted. From the way the boy jumped, he may have actually shouted. He had to take pride in the piety of the future’s children. It was an admonition to him to be even more faithful. “We cannot allow ourselves to believe that God has abandoned us.” He leapt up. “Like Job, we have the rare opportunity to prove our faith in God’s benevolence and wisdom!”
The boy shrunk from Gabriel, his hands raised in a placating gesture. Here Gabriel was with his second chance, and he was using it to shout at a child who didn’t even speak French.
“No,” Gabriel repeated more quietly, sitting. He beckoned the boy back over. Hesitating, the boy approached and, with an apologetic look, re-emphasized the X separating each of them from God. Gabriel nodded stiffly.
The boy proceeded to draw a blue box underneath Eliza. He added two rectangular doors, a shorter one on top. “Refrigerator,” he said. This magic box that was always cold and produced food was now familiar to Gabriel and he nodded. Underneath the baby, the boy drew a rectangle with two circles and a line extending from the top. Another artifact of the future, the radio.
The boy put a question mark under each device. Gabriel had no idea what the mystery surrounding these objects was supposed to be. He didn’t understand them at all, but Eliza had explained they were commonplace in everyone’s time but his. He shrugged.
The boy tapped his temple with his index finger. He said something more, but Gabriel still didn’t get it. He shook his head.
The boy made an impressive show of keeping his cool. He took a blue pencil and drew new lines from God to each of Eliza and the baby. This was unmistakable. Gabriel had no idea how or why, but the boy was convinced that Eliza and the baby somehow had established new connections with God.
Gabriel reconsidered recent events from this position. How could he be blamed for losing faith in God first when God had selected only him to be abandoned? Could Eliza have used her divine advantage to humiliate him into thinking he was of inferior faith instead of telling him the truth? Gabriel set his jaw. What would it say about him that after a life of sacrifice and dedication his own God so casually left him for someone who had given nothing?
These thoughts were confusing and alien to Gabriel. In eighty years in the monastery he had seen every sort of human injustice, but he had to admit that here eighty years of experience amounted to little. He drew in a breath. “What do you think we should do?”
The boy probably didn’t understand the words, but he went to the paper anyway. He drew three lines halfway to the Spanish woman, himself, and Gabriel. He drew a black line in the way. Something was blocking God from helping them?
The boy drew a question mark. He didn’t know or he wasn’t sure. Gabriel nodded. This was the sort of ambiguity he knew how to work with. “We know there is hope. We bide our time.”
The boy tried to figure out what Gabriel had said for a moment, then shrugged. He stood, gave an awkward nod, and left. He wasn’t more than a few steps away when Gabriel felt a feeling he hadn’t in a month. In an instant, he felt whole and loved. The feeling was electric, and Gabriel was lucky that the boy didn’t turn around at his sudden intake of breath.
The voice from his life on Earth came to him. “I never left you, Son, but you must face this challenge on your own.”
Gabriel was in shock. He could do nothing but mutter prayers under his breath.
“Also, Eliza’s cell phone is in the third crevasse from the beginning of the rock section of the climb. The Spanish woman couldn’t find it because it was buried in a pile of leaves. That is all I can tell you. Be strong.”
The feeling of wholeness lingered before Gabriel knew he was alone again. That night, when he returned to his bunk, he saw two books on his bunk. The first he was delighted to see, was his illuminated bible, bound in leather. The most valuable possession he had ever owned. He opened it to the first page and traced the beautifully wrought I with his finger, following the path of the bright green snake that twined around it. The other book was much smaller, less than half the height and a quarter the thickness. Gabriel wrinkled his nose as the thin, flimsy cover bent and the whole book lifted off the bed when he tried to open it with one hand. It was in English, too. Gabriel was mystified until he saw the smaller French translation underneath the English. Gabriel put the book to his face and, haltingly, read the English: “Talk Like an American: a Traveler’s Guide.”