Mountains towered on every side; their cragged crevices dotted with evergreens. Flowers grew in rectangular brick containers on the street. Some hung, others graced windowsills: pinks, yellows, geraniums. Here he could find the strength to resist the New World Order. These were Brianna’s people and this was the Bavarian Village or Leavenworth, Washington. The quaint buildings of cream and wooden criss crosses and lattices made the courage of these people seep into his bones. He thought of Brianna when she nursed him after the car accident. Underneath her sweetness was a reservoir of strength. Her father, Franz, though a member of the New World Order, had the courage to investigate for Stephen Tischler. If the New World Order knew of this, they would target Franz. Dor hoped Franz would exercise more courage and leave that corrupt organization.
Somehow Rachel didn’t threaten him here. So what if his synagogue disowned him because he divorced her and married the love of his life? If he denied his heart, he couldn’t go on. Rachel never let him see Eva. What could he lose by marrying Brianna? But if he married her, the New World Order would target them harder. He didn’t understand it, but he knew the Order wanted to blockade his marriage to Brianna. Now if they married, her life would be in danger. So he came here to Leavenworth, to somehow convince the world of the dangers in the New World Order. If he could hinder or damage them, maybe he and Brianna could marry. He’d never forgive himself for not looking out for her. The Order must be weakened first, then he’d know Brianna would be safe as his wife.
Today there was a celebration of cultures. The crowd gathered and he sifted through his note cards. He looked behind him and saw many dressed in Bavarian clothing. The women wore white, airy aprons that matched their short sleeved blouses of the same material, like colorful housedress with mixtures of white and other colors. The men wore shorts with jumper vests over white short sleeved shirts and a brimmed alpine hat that capped their head. Jews gathered around Dor in prayer shawls and kippahs.
Dor climbed to the podium and heard a round of applause. How heartening to see all the beaming faces. An orthodox Jew tramped up the steps behind him, took the microphone and presented Dor with a plaque. “I am proud to give this plaque to Rabbi Dor Ben Habakkuk to honor his work against a possible Holocaust in this country.”
A man in the audience yelled and pointed at Dor. “He isn’t faithful to his wife Rachel! And he’s having an affair with Brianna Wilhelm.”
The orthodox Jew stepped aside and Dor came to the microphone. “I haven’t seen my wife in years and I’m certain she hasn’t been faithful to me. Yet despite her unfaithfulness, I haven’t had sex with any woman besides her.”
A buzz of voices and commotion mingled through the crowd.
The man pointed at him. “You’re the devil!”
Dor cleared his throat and spoke into the microphone. “Thank you for this plaque.” He reached for the orthodox Jew’s hand. “I’m honored to receive it and hope to be worthy of it.”
Danielle wandered into the crowd with her boy. She looked depressed. Her depression reminded him of his mother. . .a weight fell over him and he almost forgot where he was; his mind drifted to Ruth’s Reformation Center. Visions of Brianna’s face would strengthen him. If he looked depressed now, they would think that crazy man upset him. Brianna. Let me see your face. Images of her in his mind saturated him with love and tranquility.
On the podium, he shuffled his note cards under his fingers. If he thought about Brianna and how she believed in him, he’d be strong enough to deliver his message.
“There’s a monster on the horizon and it threatens all of us. It disguises itself as love, tolerance and peace; but these are only speeches to cover its treachery. It says we have more freedom, that we’re not bound by convention; and that sexual freedom, no political interests, a great spiritual force is on the rise. . .”
Dor drank some water. Several Jews swayed back and forth in prayer. He noticed a mixture of conservative, orthodox, and reform, maybe some reconstructionists. Many of them would denounce his love for Brianna. A police officer paced on a street corner. Should he finish his speech? Too many Germans here. Too many Jews. What if he started a riot? He remembered Brianna’s faith in him; courage imbued him.
“Germany in 1923 preached love and peace and condemned the Judeo-Christian ethic. Conventional morality was laughed at and everyone created their own morality. Now a group called the New World Order invokes deep meditation to contact the force that empowered Hitler. They are deep into devil worship and mysticism, yoga, Zen, meditation, astrology, belief in reincarnation and karma. Germany has learned from her past and won’t repeat her mistakes. What Germany was in the 1920s, America is today. Unless we see the dangers of these new beliefs and what they’ll bring, we’ll repeat Germany’s mistake. Because without standards, nothing can be criticized, even murder must be tolerated, and this results in rampant evil. So we must cast out this freedom which is no freedom and replace it with the traditional standards that made our country great.”
Brianna meandered into the crowd carrying a large framed oil painting. He tried not to stare, but his eyes glued onto her. Strength surged into him. He wept.
“My mother’s in a concentration camp here in America. And she’s been brainwashed. They’ve used sophisticated computer and science technology on her, so that she is not at all the mother who raised me or the mother I knew and loved over the years.”
His lip quivered and he turned away from the audience.
“She’s not my mother anymore.”
Suddenly, he heard the crazy man’s voice. “That’s her! Right there! Brianna. Dor Ben Habakkuk’s lover.”
Copyright © 2009 – 2013 Gail Chord Schuler. All Rights Reserved.