Almost Paradise by Steve Ruedlinger

Author:Steve Ruedlinger [Ruedlinger, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781491724170
Publisher: iUniverse
Published: 2014-03-28T00:00:00+00:00

The meal went well. The hosts were generous and obliging, and the guests were courteous and grateful. Fresh fruit and vegetables were served along with fried clams and boiled lobsters, the biggest lobsters the Broadsword group had ever seen. One lobster fed five people, but Duke finished his without assistance. The Broadsword supplied a dessert of baked prapple pie. Mr. Henry had whipped up the pies, and everyone agreed they were delicious. Coffee was served courtesy of the Broadsword. It was a sumptuous feast.

After dinner, around a blustering fire, both groups settled down to quiet conversation. The islanders had many questions. Most were still trying to assimilate the news of being back in time ninety-two million years. Sure, they had seen strange things in four years on this island—giant fish, bizarre birds, and other strange flying animals—but none ever considered being back in time. The twins offered the usual explanations. Time rifts, quantum mechanics, space-time continuums, and of course the various, strange “triangles” around the world in which ships and planes were always getting lost.

These were of little comfort to the stranded islanders. Their strong faith and deep commitment to God was being tested. Where was God in this primeval world? How could Jesus come again if he had not come yet? They lived for the rapture of the second coming but had suddenly and curiously been pushed back to a time; they realized the rapture would not happen for much longer than they had originally anticipated. No saints had ever lived or died. No Mary and Joseph. No Bethlehem. No Pontius Pilate, just a handful of people, alone and isolated, in a brutal world.

Most of the islanders’ questions, however, were not theological. Who won the World Series? Who was president? What happened on New Year’s 2000? How many billions is Bill Gates worth now?

Current events were related. George W. had stolen an election in 2000. The Diamondbacks were best in baseball. Hillary Clinton was a senator from New York. Terrorists had flown planes into the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Regis Philbin was no longer hot, and Rush Limbaugh could hear again.

Since most of the islanders were fundamentalist wingnuts to the right of the ayatollah and most surviving Hilter youth, the news was met with quiet enthusiasm. Given the mixture of the group digesting dinner around the fire, sparks would soon be flying, and not from the campfire.

Reverend Wainwright was a gracious host but a forceful man. He was blunt and outspoken, a natural sermonizer and a gifted orator. He was the Lord’s servant and did not care who knew it. So the ensuing storm began not with thunder but with a gentle inquiry.

The reverend sat on a chair made of ship wreckage and twine, hands laced across a full stomach, the picture of contentment. “So tell me, admiral, who attends to the spiritual needs of your crew? You have no chaplain.”

The admiral was a veteran of nearly thirty-five years in Her Majesty’s Royal Navy. He chose his words carefully.

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