The
Chickasaw
Home Short Stories Poetry Articles Humor Links
The End Times and Julita Valenski
by John R. Guthrie
Rev. Ian MacLeash leaned forward in his seat at the banquet table,
“Many Christians feel like the End Times are upon us. Sexual perversion!
Promiscuity! Abortion! The desecration of the Lord’s Day! God excluded from the
public schools! Darwinism!”
The dinner was a
must-go event that Monday evening for Dr. Christopher Jacques (rhymes with
“rakes”), a family physician in the town of
Austerity is a
place of great natural beauty. It is tucked into the northwest corner of
The banquet
occurred in the dining room of Austerity’s
Chris Jacques came
in late, having had to see a croupy child in the emergency room. Still in his
white clinic coat, he took the first available chair when he came in, one near
hospital pathologist Dr. Hilary Stein. Rev. MacLeash
of Austerity’s
She said, “Hi
Chris, I’m Julita Valenski--Julie.”
She smiled, an utterly charming smile, eyes violet like the twilight, jet black
hair was in a pixie cut. A couple of loose strands fell across her forehead.
Her cheek bones were pronounced, her lips full and generous.
“You’re not from
Austerity, are you?” Chris said.
“No.” She shook her
head.
“What brings you
here?”
She wore a pleated
raw silk dress in deep amethyst. From its elegant cut and drape, Chris
recognized it as a designer item. Good taste, but she also would have looked
good wearing a grocery bag.
“Hilary.” She waved
her hand in Dr. Stein’s general direction. “He’s my first cousin. He’s also a
good friend since childhood. I’m traveling from
Surprised, Chris
said, “
Her eyes sparkled
as she spoke, “I’m a rabbinical student at
Chris nodded and
said, smiling, “Aha! Doctor Valenski! Wonderful.”
Brains and beauty in a woman had always been a compelling combination for him.
Julie cocked her
head a little to the side as she spoke of her work, “It’s been quite an
adventure. My university offers the option of spending a year at our Jerusalem
Campus. While there, I did things that I found to be absolutely fascinating.”
She leaned closer, and gesturing with both hands, said, “I went on an
archeological dig at
“Sure, I’ve heard
of
She continued, “We
actually recovered some document fragments. They were related to the
eschatological beliefs of the Essenes. They believed
the End Times had arrived over 2000 years ago.”
“Well, I’m pleased
that they were wrong,” Chris replied, smiling.
Rev. MacLeash, seated to their left, leaned forward and said,
“End times? Eschatology is a special interest of mine.”
“Oh, really?” Julie
said, smiling, one eyebrow raised as she considered this.
MacLeash continued, “Many Christians feel like the
End Times are upon us….” Here he catalogued his favorite sins.
Julie nodded
slightly as she listened.
Rev. MacLeash angled his chair toward Hilary, Julie, and Chris.
His gray hair was artfully cut, not a hair out of place. Nodding, he said,
“It’s all in the scriptures. Book of Revelations. May I share it with you? It
may change your life.”
“Uh, sure,
Revered,” Julie nodded slightly, looking doubtful now.
Dr. Jacques nearly
choked on the sip of water he’d just taken. He was in regular attendance at
“Pastor, have you
seen the new linear accelerator Dr. Stein helped the hospital obtain? It’s just
astounding…really hi tech…”
MacLeash rolled on like
main battle tank, and holding one hortatory hand aloft, said, “I don’t mind
telling you, Dr. Stein, Miss Valenski, the Jews and
the Jewish state are central to God’s plan. That’s why we Bible-believing
Christians have a special love for our Hebrew friends and neighbors.”
“Jews are central?”
Dr. Stein said, looking a bit mystified.
Chris realized his
face was flushing. He tried again, interjecting, “Dr. MacLeash,
perhaps sometime we could take a walk through radiology...”
Julie, Chris noted,
brow a bit wrinkled, looked worried now.
MacLeash’s face glowed now as
he continued. He chopped one hand into the other, “Yes! The End Times
prophecies can only be fulfilled if the Jews are in possession of all the lands
given to them by God, all of Biblical Israel and the Temple will be rebuilt on
Jerusalem’s Temple Mount.”
Julita said, “What about
the mosque that’s been there since 1035? Al-Aqsa”
Macleash took in a breath and
chuckled. He winked conspiratorially, “Al-Aqsa? Baked
Looking
incredulous, Hilary Stein said, “Like, beamed up?”
MacLeash said, “Indeed. As
God's chosen, Jews, though left behind, are to be protected until they have an
opportunity to accept Jesus as the Messiah."
“Oh?” Julie said softly. “And if we choose not to?”
Nodding, MacLeash continued, “The book of Ezekiel tells us there
will be a time of unimaginable suffering and horror for Jews, a people who have
rebelled against the Lord. He will separate the perfected ones, those who have
professed Jesus as Messiah, from those who haven’t. All who persist in unbelief
will die a terrible death.”
Hilary drew back,
“A terrible death?”
Chris was flinching
as he thought, I’ve never fully realized what a fool MacLeash
is.
“Then they will be
cast in to hellfire! Hell, Miss Valenski! There will
be no relief from pain. Ever! No Morphine, Dr. Stein. Consider that I’m saying
as a friendly wake-up call.” MacLeash shook his head
sorrowfully. He looked from one face to the other.
Chris continued to listen in abject horror; Rev. Dr. MacLeash
had morphed into Dr. Mengele
“Oh,” Julie said,
“In other words, Christians are supporting us in order to abolish us.”
“Not at all. When Christ returns and defeats the forces of evil led by the
Anti-Christ at Armageddon, any remaining Jews will be given a final opportunity
to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.”
Julie spoke again,
“Rev. MacLeash, you’re saying Christian prophecy will
not work without us, but in t1he end, we’ll either all be begging to become
Christians or die and go to eternal agony.”
He nodded, smiling
smugly as he said, “It’s God’s plan, Miss Valenski,
not mine.”
Dr. Stein pushed back from the table as he spat out, “I haven’t felt so honored
since I got accepted at Harvard Medical.”
”Wonderful!” said
Dr. MacLeash, reaching for his water glass.
“Sure,” said Dr.
Stein. “But Reverend, the next time you talk to that God of yours about his
plan, please tell him to just leave Dr. Hilary Stein out of it. Good evening,
Reverend.” He stood and walked briskly out of the cafeteria, the swinging doors
ca-whumping behind him as he left.
Moody fellow,” said
MacLeash to his wife, Jeannie, who sat to his left, a
woman with a permanent smile pasted on and the demeanor of one who has
undergone prefrontal lobotomy. Reaching for his salad fork, MacLeash
said, “Terribly moody, Dear.” Jeannie, still smiling, nodded, stared straight
ahead.
Julie fiddled with her napkin.
Chris took a deep
breath, then said, “Oh, my. Julie, let’s go check on Hilary.” They stood and
walked toward the exit.
Outside the
cafeteria’s swinging doors, Hilary Stein stood, unmoving, pale and visibly
shaken. He held his steel-rimmed glasses in his left hand, his award plaque
he’d received for spearheading the effort to obtain the linear accelerator in
his right hand pretending to read it.
“Hilary,” Chris
said, placing his hand on Hilary’s shoulder. “Hilary, old friend, I’m sorry.”
Hilary sighed,
“Chris, it’s not your fault.”
”Look," Chris
said, "let's get out of here. I'd love to buy you and Julie a drink. We
could go out to the club, visit a little, grab something to eat.”
Stein, his color
returning, took a deep breath. “I’d love to take you up on that, but I have two
post-mortems tomorrow. They are particularly complex due to legal issues. I’ve
still got to check some references this evening. Rain check, please? Julie, you
and Chris go ahead. I need to go home and get to work.”
Chris looked at
Julie questioningly. She smiled graciously. “I’d love to, Chris.”
Clearing his
throat, Hilary added sternly, “Chris, I must insist that you be on your very
best behavior with my cousin. And get her home early!”
Chris did a double
take. Hilary’s demeanor softened and he chuckled, and then said, “You two have
a good time.”
Chris and Julie
were soon sitting in the Jasmine Room, the informal dining room at the
Chickasaw Country Club. Fleming, the bartender, a youngish man with bleached
blond hair and a modest gold hoop in his right ear, greeted them warmly. “Dr.
Jacque! So good to see you again, Sir. Would you care for a menu?”
“Good to see you,
Fleming. Sure. A menu would help. We skipped dinner.”
“And to drink, Sir?
“Korbel Brut champagne sound OK with you, Julie?”
“Yes. And Fleming,
consider this a champagne emergency!”
Fleming smiled, “Right away, Ma’am.”
They both ordered
bouillabaisse and a Greek salad with a cheese and paté
plate to share. Julie drained her full flute of champagne. The food arrived.
“I’m starved,” she said. She sampled the bouillabaisse. “Yumm!
Delicious!”
Chris smiled. He
found it satisfying to see an exceptionally lovely woman who didn’t pick at her
food. He took another sip of champagne. “Julie, when Pastor MacLeash
got on his End Times kick, he embarrassed the crap out of me. I felt so bad for
Hilary.”
She replied,
looking thoughtful, “Stuff like that happens occasionally. Even when we were
kids, though, Hilary was the sensitive one. He had a pet white rat named Ruben
when we were ten or so. Ruben died. Hilary cried and cried. Though I felt sad,
I insisted that we bury Ruben. We did, in the backyard. Then Hilary demanded
that the two of us sit Shiva.”
Jacques chuckled,
envisioning two solemn little Jewish kids sitting in kitchen chairs beside the
small mound of dirt that marked Ruben’s grave.
“But there’s some
other history, Chris, behind Hilary’s reaction to MacLeash’s
conversion of the Jews story.”
“What’s that?”
“My grandmother,
for whom I’m named, died in Ravensbrück just before
its liberation by the Russians in 1945. My grandfather and Hilary’s, Isaac,
ended up in Treblinka, near
Chris took a deep
breath, shaking his head, said, ”And what became of your grandfather after the
war?”
She nibbled at the
French bread that came with the bouillabaisse, held up a finger signaling the
need for a pause, then swallowed and continued. “He ended up in
Chris smiled, nodding as Julie continued.
“Right up to the
end, he had to have his one cigar, a great, smelly thing called a Lord Beaconsfield
Round and a glass of Mogen David wine every evening. ‘My medicine’ he called
it. He left a trust fund for all his grandchildren, Hilary and me included. Not
a huge amount, but enough for me to pay my tuition and expenses, and enough for
the occasional shopping spree.”
“Wow, fascinating
story,” Chris said. “More champagne?”
Poker-faced, she
said, “Sure. My Medicine! Is there a cigar available? Lord Beaconsfield Round?”
Chris looked at her
in consternation, then saw the smile playing at the corners of her mouth, the
dimple appearing on her cheek as she tried to keep from laughing.
“No cigars,” Chris
said, reaching toward his pocket. In Austerity we favor chewing tobacco. Care
for a plug of Red Man?”
She laughed in
spite of herself, spewing out a bit of champagne as she did so. She was even
more beautiful when she laughed. Pausing, she wiped her mouth with a napkin.
She paused a minute, then she was somber. “I miss my Grandpa,” she said. “He
was the kindest man, so sweet to me and so funny. So much history died with
him. He loved to tell me about his first wife. I was always special to him
because I was her namesake. But at least, the Nazis finally let her die instead
of the eternal torment Rev. MacLeash proposes.”
Chris looked
closely at her. Her eyes were shining. “Hey, MacLeash,
I hate to say it, is my preacher. That stuff is his stock-in-trade, standard
for evangelicals. I realized this evening that he’s also a nut case, and that
in a lot of ways I don’t belong in his church at all. But I like seeing my
friends and neighbors there, and I like the music.”
She swallowed hard.
“Yeah, I think I do understand. As much as I love the tradition, I’m not all
that observant a Jew, rabbinical student or not. It’s just that so many people
in this country think like MacLeash these days and
‘love’ us Jews in the same way—their intent being that we end up gibbering
prayers to Jesus on our metaphorical Hebrew knees or go to torture that puts
the Nazis to shame any day. It’s scary, like Praying Mantis love. When the
Mantis’s are done mating, the male is decapitated.” Tears were flowing down her
cheeks now.
Chris leaned over,
put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She leaned into him.
Behind the bar, Fleming was pointedly looking into the distance as he wiped
glasses with his towel. Chris picked up a linen napkin and dabbed at her tears.
She sniffed, forced a smile. “Chris, this isn’t me. I’m not a crybaby, promise.
I’ve just been on an airplane for 14 hours, gone through more time zones than I
can remember, then drove from
“Some things are worth crying about,” Chris said.
“Yeah, but I’m just
jet-lagged beyond to the point of no return. As much as I enjoy your company, I
need to get back to Hilary ‘s house and get some rest.”
“It’s been great to
visit with you. You’re an intriguing person.”
She smiled, leaning against him again, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.
“Flattery, Doctor, may just get you everywhere.”
At the door to
Hilary Stein’s house in the
“Hey, it was great. I guess you’re leaving tomorrow?”
“Yep. Gotta catch a plane to LA. I’ve a dissertation to finish.”
“I hope if you’re
ever back this way, you’ll let me know.”
“I will. And when
you’re through
She stepped back,
then reached up and kissed him on the lips, holding the kiss a little longer
than necessary for a first date good evening kiss. Then she turned, entered the
house, and for the moment at least, Julita Valenski was gone.
***
With Appreciation to
First Publisher, The
The
Chickasaw
Home Short Stories Poetry Articles Humor Links