Chasing the Prophet Read online

  Greene gulped. “Now I’m a million percent sure he was behind it all. I don’t know why he’s denying it, but I have to find a way to thank him. You’ve got to understand, that kid gave me my whole life back.”

  Paul looked at him and thought back about everything he’d heard. David was most likely that mysterious kid from the hospital. Paul knew for a fact that the boy was probably related to some powerful organizations—possibly to the prophet himself. But he had no time to dwell on it now; he had to get back to David.

  He rose back to his feet with effort and reached for the cane leaning against the wall. Without saying a word, he reached for the door handle.

  Greene followed him with his eyes. “That’s it? Aren’t you at least going to tell me who you are?”

  “Don’t worry. I’m a relative of David’s. I just wanted to make sure you’re not posing a threat to the kid.”

  “Wait a minute! The kid, who is he?” Greene gasped loudly.

  His only answer was the sound of the door slamming followed by the regular beat of the cane against the floor, slowly fading into silence.

  28

  It’s Only Going to Get Worse

  “We’ll be there in a minute, Dad. It’s just around the corner.”

  Benjamin drove the car with David sitting by his side. They slowly drove up Washington Avenue, on their way to the industrial district.

  Benjamin was happy that he had insisted on taking his son. This would give them a chance to talk. Additionally, in the past few minutes the sun hid behind a blanket of clouds and the world darkened. If it wasn’t for the ride with his father, David might have found himself walking in a downpour.

  Benjamin gave his son a worried look. Normally, following a session with Mr. Harrison and a visit in Dreams Planet, David was tranquil and relaxed. This time it was different. He had never seen his son looking so glum. David looked tired, preoccupied, as if all the troubles of the world lay on his shoulders.

  The psychologist, Harrison, agreed with Emily’s claims that there was something special about David, some unique ability to analyze reality. Benjamin didn’t think of this distinction, whatever it was, as an advantage. On the contrary. Their son wasn’t happy, and lately seemed even more depressed.

  Now was the time for a father-to-son talk. Perhaps some light music would improve the mood. He turned on the radio. The radio announcer was complaining about the weather. “The skies are gray, and even though we’re in the beginning of summer, we’re still seeing cloudbursts and unseasonable cold spells. The weather forecasters assume this is a radicalization of the greenhouse effect, but they can’t tell whether this is a passing phenomenon or…”

  Benjamin pressed buttons and tried to locate a more cheerful station. His attempts were futile and he turned off the radio.

  “Look, David.” He cleared his throat.

  “What?”

  “Your mother and I are a little worried about you,” Benjamin continued softly. “Now, I don’t mean to pry, you know that we respect your privacy, but…” He saw David’s face harden and tried to choose his next words carefully. “It’s just that I… I mean we, we think that you seem a little tense lately. The sessions with Mr. Harrison aren’t helping?”

  David didn’t answer and merely continued to stare at the road ahead. Outside the vehicle the world darkened even further, and the cars driving down the street slowed down. Some of the drivers turned on their headlights.

  “You know that you can always come talk to me, no matter what.” Benjamin stole a glance at his son.

  “I know, Dad. Everything is all right.”

  But nothing was all right. Right after his visit in Dreams Planet, David had hurried home and logged into the prophet software. He sent an urgent instruction to his people, asking them to locate the flight simulator hacker and received a disturbing reply: no break-in attempt into the system could be identified.

  David did not know how to handle that answer. After all, he had not hallucinated it—someone had actually spoken to him. He repeated the instruction to check the matter and locate where that conversation from “the one who knows” had come from. He couldn’t let it go.

  “Well, lately, you don’t seem to be all right to me,” his father said.

  Silence.

  “You can tell me everything, about anything under the sun. School, friends, girls.” He stole another look at his son. “I’m here for you.”

  A sudden thunderclap sounded and a downpour began, striking at the windshield and obscuring the view.

  “Dear God, what’s going on?” Benjamin exclaimed.

  David reacted as well. “Wow, did you see that lightning? It looked so close! Maybe we should stop.”

  Benjamin agreed. The heavy rain obscured the field of view, preventing any possibility of moving forward. He carefully maneuvered the car into a parking bay by the side of the road. In his heart of hearts, Benjamin was happy for this sudden downpour.

  The center of attention shifted to the outside world and the burdensome conversation was forgotten to a certain extent. Now the drive had turned into a kind of survival experience, father and son against the elements.

  “What are your teachers saying about the weather? Do any of them have a theory?”

  “Not really. The physics teacher thinks there’s a very low statistical probability for this unnaturally long winter to last and that we’ll be seeing spring in the next few days,” David said, quoting his teacher.

  “Oh yeah? And what do you think?”

  “I think it’s only going to get worse.”

  “What makes you think that?” Benjamin slanted a curious glance at his son.

  David looked back at him and smiled. “Because the prophet said so.”

  Benjamin could not recall the last time he had seen his son smiling. It was like a refreshing breath of wind. “Looks like someone here is more up to date than I am.” He smiled back. “When did he say that? I don’t recall hearing this.”

  David hesitated. “Well… someone in class said that today.” He fell silent. He should be more careful with what he said. What the hell was happening to him? Mr. Harrison had also heard things that he shouldn’t have. He had to start keeping his mouth shut.

  Benjamin saw the expression of concern settling over his son’s face and decided to change the subject.

  “How’s your grandmother? Still living with fifty cats?”

  David tried to smile. “Just five.”

  “Remind me what their names are?”

  It was a kind of game they both played. Benjamin would ask questions about Grandma Edna, and David, on his part, did his best to answer without laughing, because he knew how ridiculous it all sounded to his father.

  “All right, but don’t laugh. Simba, Gustav, and Popeye. Those are the males. The females are called Coco and…”

  Another thunderclap exploded right next to their car before he could finish the sentence, startling them. The powerful shockwave set off car alarms all around the parking lot.

  “Rain,” David finished the sentence and exchanged a look with his father, both of them stunned.

  The wind quickened and rocked the vehicle.

  “I don’t ever remember thunderstorms like this,” Benjamin muttered as he peered out the window. He tried to look through the screen of water surrounding the car. “I think your prophet may have been right.”

  “He’s never wrong.” David sighed with agreement.

  They both sat silently, marveling at the power of nature. After a minute of deafening noise, the rain stopped with the same suddenness with which it had begun.

  David opened the window, poked his head out and breathed some fresh air as the sunlight returned to illuminate the rain-washed street.

  “Get your head back inside. We’re going.” Benjamin started the car and carefully pulled into traffic. He turne
d on the radio and a happy jingle immediately sounded: “…because the Order of the prophet beckons us all, and together, we shall build the prophet a temple!” The jingle ended and was followed by a feminine voice: “Join us tomorrow for an open gathering at the City Tower.” He turned off the radio at once and muttered, “Everyone is crazy nowadays.”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” David mumbled. He stole a sideways glance at his father, who seemed to not have heard him.

  The next few minutes of the drive went by in silence.

  “This is it, we’re here,” David said, picking up his school bag.

  “When will you be finished? I can come pick you up.” Benjamin stopped the vehicle.

  “I’m not sure when. That’s all right, Dad. It’s only a twenty-minute walk home.” David opened the door and slipped out of the car into the wet street. He saw his father’s concerned look and added, “I’ll give you a call if there’s a problem.”

  Benjamin knew there was no point in arguing. “Whatever you say, David. Bye.” He waved at his son.

  “Bye, Dad.”

  The car drove off. David stretched his neck and looked up at the luxurious building. A moment later he took a deep breath and stepped toward the glass doors, which automatically opened and silently closed behind his back.

  The logo glittered with shades of gold: Richmond Group.

  29

  Surprises are Always a Bad Thing

  Jackie sat in bed and leafed through the newspaper.

  He was trying to read an article about the possible reasons for the eccentric weather, but he couldn’t focus on the words in front of his eyes. A single thought uneasily occupied his mind—he had to find a way to talk to his father. He looked at the telephone once more and prayed that Daphne, his father’s secretary, would call him back.

  When his father heard what he had to say, he’d have to take him seriously. Jackie remembered how he had addressed his father in his office, and how he had waved him off impatiently. He could still see the mocking look in the eyes of his father’s entourage, and he gritted his teeth angrily. He may be only seventeen, but he knew his own worth and just how much he had to contribute to the family business, especially now that he had discovered this incredible secret. Something none of the usual flatterers that surrounded his father could have even guessed.

  He jumped to his feet and went to the large mirror on the wall. The reflection staring back at him did not look like a high school student, but more like a man, mature and confident. “All you need to do is get some proof, then everyone will realize who you are and what you’re worth,” the man in the mirror told him.

  Jackie knew the information he had was difficult to process. It would sound far-fetched if he told anyone he had discovered—right under everyone’s noses, here in Green Pines—a direct channel of communication with the prophet himself.

  He still could not determine David’s actual relationship with the prophet. Maybe he just approached the prophet through his website, and with time, some sort of connection had been established between them. Jackie had heard of these genius kids possessing a phenomenal computer-like memory. These were usually weirdos who didn’t have any friends, which made David an exact match. Maybe he even had some influence over the prophet’s messages to the media.

  Jackie snorted with contempt, went to the table, and picked up a cigarette. “That piece of shit kid can’t stop me,” he said as he lit it. His reflection in the mirror blew out smoke and nodded at him confidently.

  The telephone vibrated and Jackie hurried to take a look. It was a message from Thomas, asking whether they were going out tonight to some party. Jackie would have joined the rest of the gang any other night, but not tonight: the moment his father became available, he would hurry to meet him. A few minutes with his dad was all he needed. He couldn’t put it off anymore.

  The cell phone rang: Thomas again. Jackie sighed and answered. “Not gonna happen today. I’m sitting with my dad. A business meeting, you know,” he said self-importantly.

  “Are you sure? Everyone’s gonna be there, lots of girls too.” Thomas sounded disappointed.

  “I know, I know. But this is an important meeting,” answered Jackie, resentment growing in his heart. He didn’t owe an explanation to anyone, certainly not to Thomas.

  “Something’s up with you, Jackie. You’ve been on edge for two weeks. Does it have anything to do with that kid?”

  “You think I give a shit about that little fuckhead?” Jackie answered angrily. He realized his anger proved the exact opposite, and he tried to subdue his tone. “Things are just stressful right now because of business. My dad decided to make me an important part of the company. It’s a lot of responsibility, you know.” The words blurted quickly out of his mouth.

  “Awesome, I had no idea, bro.” Thomas whistled. “So, you won’t be coming to school anymore?”

  “Sure I’ll be coming. It’s a process,” Jackie explained. “I’ll start after school. Advising him, you know. Then we’ll see. One step at a time.”

  “All right, whatever works for you,” Thomas replied and sighed with appreciation. “Anyway, we’ll be going to that party in a little while. I’ll tell you what you missed.”

  “All right, bye,” Jackie said and hung up.

  He checked the time: it was past nine in the evening and there was still no sign of Daphne. Could it be that he wouldn’t get to see his father tonight? Jackie felt that he was no longer able to contain the secret—he was about to explode.

  It had all started two weeks ago.

  His father always said that luck comes to those who open the door for it and make their own opportunities. Well, Jackie must have opened the door for it when he had volunteered to accompany the junior grade kids on their school trip. Actually, he hadn’t really volunteered. He and Thomas were punished for harassing the younger students. The two couldn’t understand why.

  After all, it was traditional to have a bit of fun with the freshmen, scare them a little. Someone had to prepare them for real life. But that wasn’t what Mr. Castner thought. The principal determined that the two would join the younger students’ school trip, and their role would be to make sure the students behaved themselves and not get lost.

  Actually, before that school trip Jackie hadn’t even registered David’s existence. And it would have stayed that way if that irritating kid had not insisted on taking his school bag with him everywhere he went, even to his bus seat, after Jackie had clearly instructed him to put it under the bus with everybody else’s. David insisted on taking his laptop out first, and typed on it all day.

  If there was something that Jackie didn’t like, it was being disrespected. He decided to find out exactly what that kid was doing, so he snuck around behind him. David noticed it and immediately closed the laptop. Jackie had only been able to see a single sentence: “Surprises, by their very nature, are always a bad thing.”

  For some inexplicable reason—perhaps because David had irritated him—Jackie remembered that strange sentence.

  Next morning, when the students met in the dining hall, noisily excited for the rest of the trip, Jackie noticed a copy of the daily newspaper placed on one of the tables.

  The front page depicted the familiar hooded image of the prophet. There was a quote beneath it: “Surprises, by their very nature, are always a bad thing.”

  The article itself boasted an in-depth interview with the prophet, detailing his predictions for the near and far future in a variety of areas. The journalist unsuccessfully attempted to shed some light on the interviewee’s mysterious character.

  The prophet tried to explain that whoever strives for success enjoys the fruits of his hard labor, but those who count on luck will never find it. Jackie muttered, “Just like my father always says, ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ The prophet isn’t exactly saying anything new here.”

&nb
sp; He had also recognized the quote in the headline. It was exactly the same sentence David had written on his computer on the previous morning. He must have heard the prophet’s words and quoted them. Jackie placed down the newspaper and was about to leave, but something stopped him. He did not know what had made him do it, but he picked up the newspaper again. “Tell me,” he addressed a guy who was passing by with a plastic container, clearing dishes from the tables, “is this today’s paper?”

  “Sure. Can’t you see the date?” came the answer. “The interview with the prophet was last night. Didn’t you catch it on television?”

  “Well, no. We are on a school trip.” Jackie tried to sound indifferent and checked the date. It was today’s. The newspaper was printed a whole day after David had written the words, the exact same words quoted in the article, taken from the prophet’s very own mouth.

  Jackie felt that he was on to something. Adrenaline began to pump through his veins. He slowly dropped the newspaper and raised his eyes, in search of David.

  There he was, sitting right in front of him, leaning over his laptop, typing with concentration. For a split second, he raised his eyes and met Jackie’s, then instantly lowered them and continued typing. If he had somehow felt that Jackie was suspecting him—he did not give away any sign of it.

  Jackie stood rooted to the spot. He looked at David and asked himself how the same words that some snot-nosed kid had written in the morning could be spoken by the prophet in the evening. And live on national television, no less! The conclusion was inconceivable.

  Someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “What’s the deal with you?” It was Thomas. “I’ve been looking all over for you. We’re hitting the bus.”