The woman stopped her work and looked back at the rabbi, stunned at what she had just been told.
"He is the last in the lineage of James, the brother of the Lord," he continued. "He is the Avenger of Blood."
Chapter 13
The Color of the Horse
Derwood, Maryland
It was an extremely pleasant late fall day in Washington, D.C., with temperatures in the upper 60s, and the sky clear and sunny. It seemed to Decker a great day to play hooky from work. On the other hand, he had not been into the office for over three years and he figured he was about due.
Decker boarded the Metro at the Shady Grove station and noticed that the train was less crowded than usual. Several stations later, when the cars continued to be less than fully occupied, he realized the reason: the Disaster. He was aware the D.C. area had lost about fourteen percent of its population – nearly one-and-a-half million people – but seeing the impact in microcosm on the Metro brought the figure home. The thought continued to occupy him as he exited at the DuPont Circle station and made his way to the offices of NewsWorld Magazine. Is this what the world was like after the great plagues that swept Europe in the Middle Ages? he wondered.
When Decker walked off the elevator to the lobby of NewsWorld, the receptionist insisted that he sign in and wait for an escort before going back to the working offices. Decker was not a rude person but he was somewhat territorial, and despite having been gone for so long, to him this was his territory. He had no intention of either signing in or waiting for an escort. Fortunately for the receptionist, Suzy Stites was on the next elevator. "It's all right," Suzy told the receptionist, "he works here." Very few familiar faces greeted Decker that morning. Over the last three years, most of the people he knew had been transferred to other offices or had retired or taken other jobs; a few were victims of the Disaster.
When Suzy caught up to Decker he was staring unhappily at the person who now occupied what had been his desk and his office. Far worse, though, was the fact that some young jerk was in what had been Tom Donafin's office. "Mr. Hawthorne," Suzy called, preventing Decker from saying something to the new occupant that he might regret later. "Mr. Hawthorne," she repeated as she got closer, "Mr. Asher would like to see you."
Decker gave the young reporter in his old office one last dirty look and proceeded to Hank Asher's office. "I want my office back," Decker told Suzy as he walked away.
"This is not going to be a good day," Suzy muttered, trying to maintain a smile.
"I want my office back," Decker repeated as soon as he walked in Asher's door.
"That's what I wanted to see you about," said Asher. "We're giving you a new office, a corner office with windows and a view."
Decker's mood changed quickly as he looked around covetously at Asher's office. He knew that Hank's description could only fit one office at NewsWorld, and they were sitting in it.
"Wait a second," Asher said, reading Decker's thoughts. "Not this office!"
"So where then?" Decker asked.
"Decker, word just came down today. You're being promoted. They're putting you in charge of the New York office."
Decker thought for a second. "What if I don't want the New York office?"
"Why wouldn't you want it?"
Decker thought about his house in Derwood – the house he had told Elizabeth they would make their home. He thought about the grave in the backyard in which his family lay. "I'm just not interested," he answered.
Asher thought he understood what the problem was. After all, he dug the grave. "Decker if it's about your… uh… house, there's no problem. I've been authorized to offer you a very generous raise. You should be able to afford an apartment in New York and still keep your house here."
"Are you crazy?" Decker asked. "Do you have any idea how much an apartment in New York goes for?"
"It's less now than you may remember," Hank answered. "There are a lot fewer people in New York since the Disaster. It's a buyer's market."
Decker cringed a little as he recalled what the cabby in New York had said about dead people's apartments. "Yeah, that may be so," Decker answered, "but I hate apartments."
Asher closed the door and lowered his voice. "Look Decker, just between you and me, I've been told to offer you whatever it takes."
Decker looked at Hank to be sure he wasn't kidding. "What do you mean, 'Whatever it takes'?" he asked.
"Don't get crazy on me now, Decker."
Decker thought for a moment. "Why?" he probed.
"Why what?" Asher responded.
"Why are they being so generous?"
"They need a new head for the New York office, and I guess they think you're the man for the job."
"Look, Hank, I'm flattered but there must be more to it. NewsWorld is not the type of organization to throw money around. How can they possibly offer to pay me enough to maintain two homes?"
"I don't know, Decker. It sounds a little out of character to me too, but I think you'd be crazy to look a gift horse in the mouth."
"So what else did they tell you?"
"Look, Ima Jackson just called me this morning and told me that the decision had been made to give you the New York office. I asked her how much I was supposed to offer and she said 'whatever it takes.' When I asked her to be a little more specific, she just repeated herself. She told me not to ask questions; that the decision had come down from way above her head, and that I was to see to it that you accepted the position. I guess somebody on the board of directors must want you there. To tell you the truth, I was hoping you might be able to fill me in on what's going on."
"I have no idea at all," Decker shrugged.
Hank Asher took a deep breath and shook his head. It made no sense that the board of directors should care about the promotion of a particular reporter. They almost never got involved at this level.
"When do they want a decision?" Decker asked.
"A.S.A.P.," Asher responded.
"I don't know," Decker said. "I'll get back to you."
That evening Decker took Christopher out for dinner. He wanted to talk with him about his first days in his new school and to see how he'd feel about moving to New York. Christopher had been given a battery of tests at his new school because his records from California had not yet arrived.
"How do you think you did?" Decker asked him.
"Okay, I guess. The tests were pretty easy."
Decker had always thought of Christopher as bright; he decided to pursue it a little. "Christopher, what sort of grades do you usually get in school?"
"I've always had a 4.0," Christopher answered.
"That's good," Decker said, not really surprised. "Have any of your teachers ever suggested that you should skip a grade?"
"Yes, sir. Almost every year the subject was brought up, but Aunt Martha said that I should be with kids my own age. She said it would be bad for my social growth to be put with a bunch of older kids."
"What do you think?"
"I guess she was probably right," Christopher answered. "She said that once I got to college I could go as fast as I wanted because I'd be old enough to make my own decisions."
"Your Aunt Martha must have been a remarkable woman. I wish I had gotten to know her better," Decker said. Christopher smiled. They took a few more bites of their food and Decker changed the subject. "How would you feel about us moving to New York?" he asked without explanation.
"New York?" Christopher said with unexpected enthusiasm. "Would we be near the U.N.?"
"Well, I don't know. I've been offered the job as head of the New York office for News World. The office is just a couple of miles from the U.N. but I don't know where we'd actually live. We'd have to shop around for an apartment." Christopher's excitement was obvious. "You really are a big fan of the U.N. aren't you?" Decker asked.
"Yes, sir! I bet if we moved there I could get a job as a page to one of the delegates. And did you know that they have their own university?"