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Excerpts from
Moonie
By Iben Melbye
Michael and
Harry took the elevator up to the video centre. Michael stood with one hand in
the pocket of his dark-blue windcheater. He gripped the chestnut in his hand,
but he wouldn’t, couldn’t tell Harry about his weird experience in the park.
As they
opened the door, Paula hurried over to them.
“Michael …
Judith and Steinar and Björn are waiting for you in the lecture room.”
“What’s
happened?”
“I’ve no
idea, but you’d better get a move on.”
In the
doorway of the lecture room he met Björn, who whispered:
“It’s good
you’ve come.”
Judith
pointed at a chair opposite her and Steinar, and Michael sat down. Björn sat
down next to him. Michael fidgeted about a bit nervously in his seat. Had he
done something wrong again?
Judith
looked at him fondly.
“Your
mother rang at about three o’clock and said that your grandmother is seriously
ill. She’s close to death, Michael, and so …”
“No!” he
yelled. “Not grandma.”
“Your
mother wants you to come home and say goodbye to her.”
“Yes, yes …
of course … but she mustn’t die.”
Michael put
his face in his hands and sobbed.
Björn put
an arm round his shoulders.
“You might
not even be able to get there in time.”
“Michael,
be strong,” Judith sounded firm. “She’s an old lady …”
“I’ve got
to see her … I’ve got to … I’ve got to.” Michael’s words were barely audible.
Steinar
spoke: “I didn’t go home to Norway either, Michael, when my father was dying.
That was my great sacrifice, that was my Isaac.”
Björn took
over: “Your grandmother will know, when she reaches the Spirit World, that
she’s your Isaac, and that our mission is pressing and requires all our
efforts.”
“Can you
show me any passage in the Bible where it says that Jesus’ disciples went home
after they’d received God’s summons?” added Judith.
Michael
shrank and shrank. If only he could just disappear altogether. He could feel
the forces fighting inside him. His egocentric ‘I’ had but one wish: to go home
immediately and see his grandmother. But his other ‘I’ knew it was God’s will
that he should stay put here and work.
“What do
you think God would feel!” Judith’s voice became intense. “Right now you’re
very unhappy, Michael, but your life is short, less than a drop in the ocean.
What is your grief compared with Our Heavenly Father’s profound grief built up
over thousands of years? We can’t keep on turning away from God, can we
Michael! You’ve got to hold on now and not let God down.”
He sat
quite still, staring at the floor. The pain in his chest swelled into a
desolate torrent.
Grandma …
he prayed silently. You mustn’t die … you mustn’t … He stood up, hesitated for
a moment, and whispered:
“Then I’ll
stay here!”
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