surprise as she turned calmly back to him awaiting his next direction.
He laughed out loud, despite himself, and Jeza smiled back.
“Now I need to take a quick picture of you.” He pulled out a Polaroid camera and snapped off a few shots. “And I need to get you to read and sign a few papers.” He opened a clipboard and placed it in front of her, indicating with an X the lines she was to sign.
She made no attempt to read the documents, but immediately affixed her “signatures,” which, Feldman noticed with interest were perfectly rendered Stars of David.
Returning the papers to Feldman she looked questioningly into his eyes.
“That's about it for now,” he informed her. “Is there anything you wish to ask?”
“No.”
“I've brought some sweet rolls and coffee with me if you'd care to join me for a little breakfast,” he offered, hoping to prolong the visit. He pulled a thermos from his bag and opened the bakery box invitingly.
Jeza shook her head and sprang lithely to her feet “I thank you, but I am fasting and I must return now to the desert to complete my morning prayers.”
“Well then, I guess we'll see each other next Saturday, here, at the same time? Or”-he was fishing again- “perhaps I could pick you up somewhere else?”
“I shall await you here at first light, nine days from this. May I call you by your first name?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” he replied, clumsily attempting to rise without the aid of his hands, which were occupied with coffee and sweet roll. “Please call me Jon.”
“Thank you, Jon,” she said, and recognizing his encumbrance, she dispensed with the customary handshake.
Sitting back down on his rock to enjoy his breakfast, Feldman watched her striding spryly out into the wasteland, her robes and unruly hair flowing freely behind her. As she receded in the distance, he wondered where she went and what she did. The morning rays of sun sent up from the desert floor waves of heated air behind her, creating atmospheric distortions that shortly, he would swear, dissolved her into nothingness.
63
The Papal Quarters, Vatican City, Rome, Italy 11:12 A.M., Friday, February 25, 2000
Nicholas VI was standing at his study window, peering out over the colonnades of St. Peter's Square. An exquisite view of Rome, yet it brought him no comfort this morning.
Arriving outside the pope's quarters, Antonio Cardinal di Concerci could see his pontiff from the threshold, but halted, announcing his presence respectfully at the open doorway.
“Tony, please”-the pope had been anxiously awaiting him-”what word do you have of Alphonse?”
“Not good, Holiness,” the prefect replied, glumly. “As you know, he's vacated his quarters without word. All his personal effects, and only his personal effects, are gone. Yesterday he emptied his Vatican bank account, and a Swiss guard at the piazza saw him leave about seven-thirty this morning in a cab. He took with him three large suitcases and a footlocker. We're checking all the city hotels now.”
“I would suggest you try the airport” Nicholas sighed heavily.
“You feel he's left the country?” the prefect asked.
“Yes, Tony. I believe he's pursuing his obsession to follow this false prophetess. You know how badly he wished to attend the forthcoming Mormon convention. Hearing that his Jeza would be making an appearance there, I'm certain, was more temptation than he could resist Espedaily in his current agitated state of mind.” The pontiff looked again out the window, as if searching after his lost cardinal.
Frowning, di Concerci followed Nicholas's eyes with his own. “I fear we will not easily be rid of this seductive impostor,
Nicholas pivoted slowly and looked with troubled eyes at his prefect. “Yes, I'm afraid our encyclical has not been well enough received. The allure of this woman is very compelling to many. We're encountering strong rebellion in the ranks-all over, not just in the United States.
“And it's not only our parishioners, Tony,” the pope elaborated. “We're losing priests, nuns and even a number of our bishops. The media pronounce last rites on us. Can you image what they'll make of Alphonse's defection if it comes to light? To lose a cardinal-a curial cardinal, no less!”
“Yes, Holy Father,” di Concerci commiserated, “it keeps me awake at night.”
“I, too, have difficulty sleeping. And when I do nod off, I have these tormented, recurring dreams that I cannot explain. In different forms I encounter this elusive presence. It abides nearby, always around, yet always in the periphery. Disappearing a step ahead of me, just around the corner. A familiar shadow, only I can never glimpse its face nor make the proper connection to identify it I believe God is delivering a sign to me, Tony, but I cannot yet read it.”
“An intervention from God would be most welcome right now,” the cardinal agreed. “We're all praying for guidance.”
The pope paused, observing his advisor closely. “Tony, I'm about to ask an important favor of you.”
“Anything, Holy Father,” di Concerci pledged.
“Tony, I want you to go to this second interdenominational convention in America.”
Di Concerci's positive expression evaporated.
“Hopefully you can persuade Alphonse to return. But more significantly, I want you to gain a firsthand experience and assessment of this mysterious Jeza woman, this spellbinder who's entranced so many, including one of our very own Holy See. I've arranged for you to occupy a seat on the presiding panel. I'd like you and another cardinal of your choosing to represent the Curia at the convocation. Hopefully while you're there, you'll find Alphonse and return him to his senses.”
Nicholas placed his hands on di Concerci's shoulders. “Bring Alphonse back, Tony. Bring him back. But more importantly, bring with you an answer to this spreading problem that grows more serious by the day.”
64
Mormon Convention Center, Salt Lake City, Utah 9:00 A.M.. Thursday, March 2, 2000
Not unexpectedly, the Mormon organizers had been more than receptive to WNN's overtures. Jeza would be scheduled in whenever WNN wished, for as long as WNN wished. WNN would also have exclusive coverage rights for the entire convention, complete with scheduled TV time-outs for sponsorships and commercial messages, with the exception of Jeza's speech, which would be telecast live and uninterrupted.
Subsequently, the atmosphere for this much-vaunted Second Convocation of Interdenominational Religious Faiths of the Third Millennium, was far different from the first. For one thing, thanks to the announcement of the new surprise guest speaker, the convocation had gleaned vastly more respect and world interest Literally overnight, the Mormons were overrun with registration requests. In the first hour alone, after the mere rumor of Jeza's scheduled appearance leaked from a Washington, D.C., radio station, the Mormons had received over 400,000 orders from all over the globe, by phone, fax, e-mail and telegram, not including the massive in-person invasions of the Tabernacle Hall itself.
The “Holy Bowl” was unquestionably an event of epic proportions. The excitement in the world religious communities was electric. And despite the sellout millions of rapturous pilgrims were still converging on the city by the Great Salt Lake.
So many people, in fact that the governor of Utah was compelled to call out the National Guard to handle the unprecedented influx of pilgrims. Tent communities and soup kitchens were set up to accommodate the swelling numbers of homeless and afflicted who'd journeyed here just to be near their Savior. Cars, mobile homes, trailers and RVs stretched for tangled miles along the major routes feeding into the area.
