Paradise Gained

Donovan Winters couldn’t sleep. The silence here was different from the one at His Word and Light in Michigan. He found it invasive and consuming, but he couldn’t bring himself to go home. In the month since Colossus had passed, since failing his faith, followers, and his God, Winters retreated. For all he knew, the members of his church were gone and without a flock to shepherd, he was lost to the world. It was early morning and Winters sighed to himself, before pushing off the bed and pivoting his body around so his feet touched the floor. The cool cement pad pushed a shiver up his spine, curling his toes at that same moment. He stretched, arching his back and letting out a cavernous yawn as he staggered to his feet and made his way across the room. He could feel every last bit of his 47 years, and they ached fiercely. He pulled open the curtain to the singular window in his room and basked in the view. It warmed his soul every morning, renewing his vigor and restoring his belief in the righteous cause he pursued. What he saw was a far cry from the secluded woods of Michigan. White sand stretched out before him as far as he could see from southeast to northwest, lapis lazuli waves rollicked peacefully along the shore before receding and repeating. The sun slowly inched its way over the horizon, hanging golden and enormous. Under his breath, he murmured the same words he had every morning since arriving in Guyana. “I’ve found what Milton lost.” He crossed his chest, bowed his head, and silently mouthed a prayer to himself. ✟ ✟ ✟ January 12, 2024      I’m not ready to head back yet. At least that’s what I’ve told Troy, and the others at PRIME. I’ve found something here. What felt like an abject failure at the end of Colossus has led me here, and I have been rejuvenated in His Light. I know the 14 have left me because of the failure against Diamonds, but I have faith they’ll return. If they don’t they’re not truly committed to His Word and Light. They would know that He tests us in many different ways and that a perceived failure is merely part of His test, His will. I have faith that it wasn’t in His plans for me to beat Daytona Diamonds, that this is one small step in something much greater, the full picture of which I cannot see yet. No, I will not hang my head in shame. I will not let myself fall into the doldrums because of what the church members perceived as a failing of faith and loyalty. My faith holds strong. My belief in His Word and light is unwavering and unequivocal. It is them who are wrong and they will most certainly see the Light, and they will be welcomed back with full Absolution. For my heart is forgiving and I am full of love for my flock. Others are milling around, false prophets leading men astray, blindly into darkness. Their flames are burning bright, but those are the ones that fade the fastest. I am steadfast, I am not whipping myself into a frenzy over nothing. It is my cause that is true and just. His Word and Light is My Word and Light. I seek His Light and follow His Word. And where are they? What are they praying to? Heresy. The heretics shall see their flames extinguish, but not before they’re burned in them. I am the Resurrection, I am His Light. I am the Holy Fire that will cleanse all before me. They are not ready. Am I? ✟ ✟ ✟ “So how much longer have we got?” Don Winters looked furtively at the construction foreman sitting across from him. The foreman was a broad man with a big, white, toothy grin. His dark eyes were piercing and studious, yet reassuring. “It won’t be long, Father. It’s January 15th now. We’ve got to get the stained glass windows in and then furnish the interior. Pews, altar, all that good stuff. We’re well ahead of schedule. A couple more weeks and you can start holding Sunday service. You should be targeting the 28th.” “That’s wonderful news, Leon.” Winters smiled. “I’m looking forward to you and your team joining us as soon as it's ready. You’ve done such incredible work. We’ve been blessed to have you here.” “It would be our pleasure, Father.” Leon Carpenter smiled in return. “The restoration work you’re helping within our community has been nothing short of amazing. The entire town has been buzzing. They’re eager to see the tourism start pouring in. I don’t know if you know how proud they are of what’s being done here.” “Leon,” Winters began. “I was called here by the Lord and I’m following His will. I do need you to be honest with me about something though. Are there reservations about this? I know you’re just leading the construction, but you’ve got a good ear to the ground. I’m a little worried about comparisons to the past in this country. They’re certainly understandable, but I can’t stress enough that we are not working toward those same ends.” “I believe you, Father,” Leon replied quietly. “There is some concern, of course. That was a tragedy, but that was a man led by greed, not one of God. Most of us know your mission is honorable as a man of faith and we are happy to support it. There will be others who disagree with your project, with you moving here, but they will come around. They will see the Light. Now! Come! Let’s take a little tour of the progress, shall we?” Winters nodded and the two men stood together. “Safety first!” Leon remarked and Winters acknowledged him with a slight smile, before putting on a safety vest, glasses and hard hat. Sunlight poured into the job trailer as Leon opened the door and the two men stepped onto the jobsite together. There was a sense of awe that filled Donovan every time he looked up at the newly constructed church, the steeple stretched into the sky, trying its best to reach God and heaven. As they walked, Leon recounted how the church was being constructed out of Purpleheart, which would be very resistant to decay, but being so near the ocean could be susceptible to marine borers. Winters took mental notes as they walked, adding that fact to the list of things they would need to protect against with regular maintenance. “So tell me, Father, what are the plans here?” Leon asked as they passed masons working a mortar mixing bin. Winters smiled again, despite feeling so alone without the members of his church, around the new company he could feel the confidence in his faith regrowing. “A community, first and foremost, Leon. A community that is in harmony with God, faith, and specifically His Word and Light. I want to foster a hardworking, faithful community that can come and pray together on Sundays. A community that feels safe, neighborly… you know, Leon, it feels like so few people are willing to be close as neighbors these days. Fences, big yards, and security systems keep everyone apart. I don’t want any of that here. We’re here to build love, faith, and community.” “So, the church, and…” Leon trailed off as Winters energetically interjected. “Yes! The church, the hotel, and the amenities.” there was a gleam in Donovan’s eye as he continued. “His Word and Light have big plans for Winter’s Port, Leon. I’ve spent many, many years looking for heaven on earth and every single day I wake up and thank God, thank His Word and Light that He, in his infinite wisdom, has washed me up on these shores. This isn’t a circumstance, this isn’t a coincidence. This is divine intervention, my good friend.” “Praise to His Word and Light.” Leon bowed his head, crossed himself, and whispered a private prayer. ✟ ✟ ✟ January 20, 2024      I received a message from Coral Avalon last night. Inexplicably, he’s chosen me for his War Games team. The eGG Bandit team. I’ve known Coral for a long time, even if we’ve never really been anything more than acquaintances. Certainly never someone I could call a friend. Those have always been few and far between. But back to fWo… I just want to forget that time of my life, and yet… it keeps coming back, keeps rearing its ugly head at me. Coral may be a weak link to that past, but he’s there, he’s part of it. Memories like waves on this beach. I can only take so much before I start to erode. Again. I should be honored, right? Night two, PRIME’s first major event of the year, in Wales, no less. A showcase for The Revelator. A spotlight for His Word and Light. I can feel that this is His greatest test yet. He is working through Avalon in the ultimate test of my faith and loyalty to His Word and Light. Jiles and Diamonds. Can I coexist with them? Is it even possible for me to work with those men, even for one night? The Lord works in mysterious ways and I am going to look at this as a sign, a test of faith, and not some cruel prank being. Yet, at the back of my head, that thought continues to gnaw away at me. Why? Why me, Coral? He is doing His works, his test to ensure that my loyalty is total, and He is doing it through Avalon. That’s the answer. There’s no way Avalon would do this of his own free will, I refuse to believe there could be such malice in his heart. He’s no Jiles (doesn’t care) or Diamonds (purposely antagonistic). No, Avalon is a family man, one repeatedly forced into situations working against him, yet he persists and continually comes out ahead. There’s more to this man than I can gather from the surface. Sinister? Not necessarily. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there is a reason He is working through Avalon. Co-existence is necessary. We have to get along, it’s the only path to victory. Does he even remember I was a Hardcore Champion in fWo? Is that why I’ve been selected? I just don’t know. It’s eating me up inside, but all things are possible through His Word and Light. Faith. Trust. Belief. Carry His Weight. ✟ ✟ ✟ “Rosa rugosa.” Don was fixated on several pamphlets about the local flora that he barely heard the words come out of Winter’s Port botanist Lily Tiller’s mouth. He looked up, half paying attention, the pamphlets splayed across his lap. “Huh?” was all he could muster. She furrowed her brow as she responded, slightly annoyed he wasn’t listening. “Rosa rugosa. Beach roses. You said those were the ones you liked, right?” “Oh, yes,” Donovan replied, gathering his thoughts. “My mother loved them when I was very young. They could survive just about anything, that’s what she liked. They can be quite pretty, too. I think they’d look great on the church grounds. We’ll just have to fence them in or something so kids don’t get into the puckerbrush of it. Those thorns will cut you up something righteous.” “Did you know they’re invasive?” Tiller asked, leaning forward in her chair. “Invasive?” Don was confused. “Really? I’ve seen them all over the place, and I mean, not just here, everywhere.” “Oh yes,” Lily smiled. She loved getting to use her knowledge. “The rose originally came from eastern Asia.” She held out her hand where several rose hips rested in her palm. “These hips are not only edible but incredibly hardy. They’ll even get into the ocean, survive the journey, and plant themselves where they end up.” Don was catching on. “Is that why they’re called beach roses?” “Exactly.” Tiller nodded. “That’s where the name came from. They started washing up on beaches and planting themselves across South America, North America, and Europe. They’ve been around long enough that people have more or less forgotten their invasive nature - especially with how often you see them in gardens, but yes…” Don cut her off. “The Rose is invasive. She comes in like the hip in your hand, landing on the shore, looking for a new place to call home. Burying herself in the dune and waiting for spring, waiting to grow. Waiting for the Second Coming.” Winters plucked a hip out of Lily Tiller’s hand and held it between his thumb and forefinger, turning it over, and inspecting it closely. “The invasive Rose is robust, strong, resilient. It’s not the typical rose we expect, the one we might buy for a lover. Deep red, fragile, temperamental in growth and care, but devastatingly beautiful. No, the invasive Rose is one to be wary of. It has proven to be able to survive nearly any climate and any situation. She’s dangerous, she’s small, but she is not fragile. She cannot be taken lightly, as she’s already proven.” Lily Tiller attempted to interject. “Are we still talking about flowers?” Winters ignored her. Tiller shook her head, sighed, and stood to leave. Before she did she bowed her head, crossed her chest, and whispered a private prayer. Donovan Winters clasped her hand just as she exited. “We are His Word and Light.” She acknowledged the statement and left the room. “No KINGs, Rose,” Don stated with confidence. “Only God and men. You’re just like rosa rugosa, Rose. Invasive. You came here after TAL full of blood, venom, and hatred. Where did it get you? Exactly where it got me with Daytona Diamonds. I lost the forest for the trees, and so did you. We’ve got that much, that little in common Rose. I respect your style, I respect your ability as a wrestler and your devotion and protection as a parent.” “However, I don’t respect your flippant attitude and disrespect for anybody who doesn’t see exactly eye to eye with you. Life is about compromise, Rose, but that’s not you, is it? Like the beach rose you bully in, plant your roots and make yourself impossible to reason with. Difficult to deal with, easy to underestimate, and always coming back for more.” Winters crushed the hip in his hand. “However, that stops here. That stops with me, Rose. A woman who dares call herself the Second Coming must reckon with The Revelator. I’m the one true word of faith, the beacon of hope, the Light that beats back the darkness. You are no second coming, you are merely playing at it. Invading the territory you think is yours, but no. I know you’re here. You can’t be culled, you can’t be removed, or exorcised. But you can’t be tamed, trimmed, cut back, and controlled. That’s what I aim to do Rose. I’m going to control the invasive species. I’m going to put you into your place. I’m going to smash the false idolatry and put down the pretenses that you are the second coming.” “When you’re looking up at the lights, lifted high in the air, feeling like Jesus standing before Pontius Pilate…In that moment, Rose, you will know Absolution.” Winters stood from his chair and stepped out of the trailer into the fresh air. Lily Tiller stood by, watching a small manakin hop along a tree branch overhead. Don took in the brilliant blue and black bird for a moment before he turned to Lily and said, “Plant the roses.” ✟ ✟ ✟ The weather in Kalamazoo was far less hospitable than Winter’s Port, Guyana had been. Don Winters shivered and hugged his body through a navy woolen peacoat as he exited a yellow cab. He held a dozen roses in his right hand but was careful not to crush them. The foreboding sign in front of the robust brick building filled him with dread every single time he saw it. The Revelator bowed his head, crossed his chest, and whispered a small prayer to himself. KALAMAZOO PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL It always took every bit of courage he had within him to go inside, and it had been about five years since he last found himself here. That was as a patient. He vowed it would be the last time he stayed there, and so far he’d kept his word. However, today wasn’t about him. As he walked through the front doors, his eyes raced across barren white walls, white flooring, reflecting white fluorescent lights. It was nearly overwhelming. He tried to imagine the stained glass windows being installed at the church in Winter’s Port, the sun pouring through them and creating light. Don approached the front desk and swallowed hard, scratching at the few days’ stubble that had found its way onto his face, travel not allowing him the time to shave. The receptionist asked him a question, but the anxiety was growing with him, which meant his heart was pounding and his ears were ringing. He felt slightly faint, but not noticeably so. “O’Rourke.” He stammered out a reply. The receptionist slid a clipboard in front of him and he scrawled his name across the first open line. He muttered a “thank you” and waited for the sound. **BZZZT** His body recoiled as the doors opened and an orderly flanked him as they headed down the static, sterile white hallway together. Their shoes clapped against the floor in unison step by step until they reached Room 45. The orderly unlocked the door and motioned Don inside. The room was dark except for the glow of the boxy 27” television set that long outlived its usefulness 15 years or more ago. A rerun of a 1980s game show flickered on the screen, excited people and an equally exuberant host all playing their parts. An elderly woman sat in an oversized green recliner, eyes fixed on the screen, her face unmoving. Don Winters slowly moved around into her view and placed the roses in her lap. He smiled at her, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “Happy birthday, mom.” He choked the words back and got down on one knee to make direct eye contact. “I’m sorry I haven’t been back to see you, it didn’t feel right.” Don Winters had only seen his mother maybe five or six times since she shot his father in the head nearly 39 years ago. His mind flashed back to The Thing poster on his wall and the bullet hole through the center of it. She did the right thing, she did her time in prison, and for protecting her son she was rewarded with a nervous breakdown and 20 years of being institutionalized. It broke Don’s heart, but he also knew this was where his mental illness stemmed from. He had been in this very building as a patient just as she was, but they weren’t allowed to interact. Her grey, glassy eyes looked up into Donovan’s cerulean ones and a faint flicker of recognition sparked her to life. A wry grin came across her face, stretching the skin tight against her sharp cheeks. Tears began to streak down her face as she reached out to touch his. “Donny?” She weakly pushed it out through the tears and that’s when Don lost it himself. He threw his arms around his mother and began sobbing. He was eight years old again if it hadn’t been a day since then, transported to the safety of her embrace, no matter how weak it had become. He pulled himself away from her spindly fingers and held her elbows. “How would you like to come home with me? To Guyana.” A son asked his mother. “I’m working on something wonderful.” The past calling back to him again, first Coral Avalon, now here was visiting his mother for the first time since he had been discharged from this hospital years ago. Mary O’Rourke (once upon a time Winters) smiled and nodded, fighting back more tears. She whispered something inaudible and he knelt back down and leaned in close. As he did, she bowed her head, crossed her chest, and whispered… “You are His Word, His Light, his Holy Weapon of Absolution. You will save us all.”

Don Winters smiled as more tears rolled down his cheeks. He hadn't heard his mother say those words to him in almost 40 years. He had never felt more alive than in this moment. ✟ ✟ ✟