United Nations of Plaquemine, Planet Diaphanum

Sharon

[United Nations of Plaquemine, Planet Diaphanum]

When Sharon Carter awoke the morning of Sunday the 13th of December, 2012, it was with a feeling of great anticipation. While part of her excitement as she dressed for church came from this being her golden birthday, it did not come only through passing from preteen phase to genuine teenager. Unfortunately, that small but significant milestone of life's passage that excited most young girls for centuries was not to be part of today’s celebration.

Sharon was excited because through dreams for almost two years, angels had been preparing her with a special prayer for this day- a prayer so powerful it would summon the presence of the Creator. This gift was the source of her excitement, and it was a gift not only for her pastor father and United Church of God, but a gift Sharon would eventually share with the world.

She could only hope it wasn't too late. In other dreams the angels had shown her a world where anarchy was king, a world where death and destruction ran rampant, leaving behind their bastard children with names such as Chaos, Confusion and Misery. The world of anarchy was not a world she would be a part of, for Sharon was aware of the fact that her time on the planet Diaphanum would be limited.

A war like no other was about to begin, and if by some strange twist of fate she was still alive when it came to an end, it would mean that she had failed to perform the mission assigned to her. In that case, because of her failure, millions of people would have died a hideous death. Such a consequence was unacceptable and convinced Sharon that failure was not an option.

Sitting in the front pew of First United Church of God, as her father Reverend Louis Carter was addressing the congregation, Sharon whispered a quick prayer for strength, knowing that the essence of failure was nothing more than the impish Demon of Doubt, whom she chose to ignore. Nor did she pay any attention to his three siblings, Panic, Fear and Nausea, who threatened to overtake and confuse her. Instead, she focused on her father, who was saying that as a honor for her birthday he would like his beautiful daughter Sharon to come up and lead the church in prayer. She didn't hesitate for a second, but immediately left the pew she shared with her mother, about twenty feet from the stage and the lectern where her father was standing. After rising from her seat, she would not remember her feet ever touching the floor, nor would she remember gliding effortlessly up the five steps which led to the stage.

The eyes of every member of the congregation were on the diminutive figure of the young girl who strode with obvious confidence across the stage to the lectern where Reverend Carter awaited her. He favored her with a proud, welcoming smile as he lowered the microphone a bit to accommodate his daughter's lesser stature, then stepped aside to allow Sharon to take her place before the congregation.

As Sharon began to speak, her child’s voice was light, but carried well in that small church, and the congregation hushed to attend to her every word. With their focus entirely on Sharon’s angel-inspired prayer, none were aware of the angels descending on the church, nor did they see the roof and the walls of the church become transparent to the passage of the angels, allowing entrance to their multitude. Along with the horde of angels, but observing unobtrusively from the corner among the artificial potted tree decorations, stood the handsome but evil figure of the Angel With Many Names. He gazed at Sharon with total fascination, wondering how he could have overlooked her until this moment, and why his minions of Darkness had not alerted him to her presence on the planet.

Despite Sharon’s diminutive size, being barely tall enough to be seen over the lectern, the young girl presented a dynamic image to the small audience of worshipers. The power of her words increased as her prayer continued to move the congregation to greater heights of spiritual intensity. If anyone could come close to describing what Moses felt like on Mount Sinai, it would have been the people in attendance that Sunday at First United. The awesome presence of the Creator among them was intoxicating, yet at the same time invigorating.

While the congregation of First United was mesmerized by Sharon's prayer, the astonishing events that followed left everyone with the belief they had been transported to a realm that was not a part of the real world in which they lived.

Mrs. Peggy Purvey, a widow of eighty-two, was seated in the back of the church in the last pew, a location she had chosen for the last four Sundays because of recent hip surgery. The location provided her with the shortest walking distance to and from the entrance, and therefore required the least amount of energy from her. With barely enough strength to get in and out of bed, let alone dress herself, such simple tasks often left her exhausted and in pain.

However, at this moment she could no longer contain herself at the back of the church any more than the levee could have contained the Great Mississippi that poured over New Orleans. Without the aid of her walker Mrs. Purvey was now making her way down the aisle toward the stage where Sharon was speaking, with her head low and her right hand raised toward heaven. She was unaware of the whispered comments and the gasps of amazement at her progress, for her mind was attuned to the voice of God in Sharon’s words, drawing her to the front of the church. Without hesitation, the elderly woman who could barely walk that morning knelt to pray at the base of the stage below where Sharon was speaking.

Sharon's lips were moving, but no sounds could be heard coming from them, as least none that could be identified as speech. Her long black hair that hung past the middle of her back had turned the color of flames that flowed over her shoulders like threads of silken fire. Her luminous golden brown eyes now glowed with crimson intensity, and were focused on Mrs. Purvey as she knelt before her. For those blessed to be witnessing this truly epic event, it was obvious that Mrs. Purvey, who was nodding her head in assent, not only heard but understood everything that issued from Sharon's lips.

Then, to the amazement of all present, Sharon raised her head, her gaze directed over the heads of the congregation, and in a voice much stronger and deeper than her own, she began to speak aloud. At first no one could understand the words that issued from the young girl's mouth. Yet the members of First United, with closed eyes and their hands raised heavenward, were soon absorbing each word with every fiber of their being, as those incomprehensible sounds pervaded their bodies to inflame their very souls with the ecstasy of Sharon’s prayer.

Like the roar of a mighty lion, Sharon's voice filled the air above the congregation, and the people became imbued with understanding. In those powerful moments not one of them could have identified the tongue in which Sharon was speaking, but each person present absorbed and understood the message she shared with them. Unknown to the members present that day, Sharon was not speaking in one language but in many tongues. In each the message was different and directed only at the person for whom the message was meant. Thus, none were capable of hearing or comprehending a message that was meant for another. It was the Creator’s way of reaching each of them as if in a private confessional.

It was in this manner, with a multitude of angels witnessing the historic event, that Sharon Carter delivered the Creator’s message to the individual members of the First United Church of God. However, the strain of speaking with such intensity for nearly two hours straight, took its toll on the body of the thirteen-year-old girl. As she uttered a closing “A-MEN!” with noticeably less fervor, her body failed her. Sensing the young girl's collapse through a connection that will never be explained, the elderly Mrs. Purvey rose swiftly from her knees and leaped to the stage to catch the girl’s body before it slumped to the floor.

Immediate chaos and consternation erupted in the congregation, as the Sunday service came to an abrupt end. Sharon was carried into her father’s office and laid on the couch to await the arrival of the ambulance. The switchboard of the local Police Authority lit up with the 2-2-2 emergency calls from the cell phones of half the congregation.

The ambulance arrived in a few minutes, and Sharon was whisked away to Plaquemine General’s emergency room, where the waiting crisis team of doctors and nurses immediately took over. Working with professional swiftness, they soon had a multitude of sensors, wires and tubes connected to Sharon’s unconscious body. In the nearby waiting room Reverend Carter and his tearful wife clung to each other for support, waiting for the results of the array of instruments monitoring and analyzing Sharon’s precarious condition.

Tabitha Tuders

April 29th, 2003

Nashville, Tennessee

Mary Ann

I had read and reread the words of the scroll that I translated into English. As a result I was thoroughly intrigued by the United Nations of Plaquemine, a world which exists parallel to the one in which I live. I found myself daydreaming about the people who live there. What are they like? Are they kind to one another? Do they take advantage of the young and defenseless? I had a multitude of questions with no one to answer them. Olivia was gone, and the scroll with her, for it had dissipated like smoke in the wind a few seconds after I finished the translation.

For hours afterward I awaited Olivia's return, for I was sure she hadn’t come to me just so that I could translate only a small portion of the story. As time passed, my concern about Olivia and the scroll was replaced by worries that were all too familiar to me. I had been so caught up in translating the scroll that I had not eaten, and while my stomach was reminding me of that fact, my brain was reminding me that at eight o'clock the next morning I would have to vacate this room, unless I came up with the sixty dollars required for another night's stay.

Tears of frustration and shame rolled down my face, as I once again considered the only way I knew to acquire that money quickly. Now that I had something to live for, the sleeping pills were no longer an option. Therefore, I was back to my last resort- selling my body again.

Upon realizing the inevitable, a dam burst within me, and the few tears of my shame became gut wrenching sobs for what I was about to do, and for the horror I was going to be facing on a daily basis.

I saw myself as having no choice, because I refuse to beg anyone for anything. Two weeks after I had run away from my adoptive parents, I was on the brink of starvation as I stood outside a place that sold burgers and shakes. It was going to be the first time I found the voice to beg someone for something, and it was also the last.

Just thinking about it now is enough to make my stomach turn. I had actually thought the guy was being nice as he handed me a burger when he came out of the place. Though I was hungry enough to eat the wrapper, I restrained myself, as my trembling hand removed the paper before I bit into the sandwich- the sandwich that to my horror and disgust this guy had actually taken the time to spread feces on, before bringing it out and handing it to me. Now I will not beg or ask anyone for help just because I am hungry or cold.

While it wouldn’t be the first time I would be without a decent place to sleep, I was worried that if I didn't keep that room I might never see Olivia again. She was the first kind person I’d ever met and I didn't want that relationship to end. There was also the matter of translating the scrolls. In allowing me to reveal the content of the scroll, Olivia had given me a glimpse of what I believed to be the future. If that glimpse was a true revelation, then selling my body seemed like a very small price to pay, if it meant assisting her in saving so many from destruction.

Resigned to the inevitable, I left the motel and was headed for the truck stop, a block away. I knew there were always drivers there, looking for a room and a quick lay after many tedious hours on the road- and I could offer both. As I stepped off the curb at the intersection, my attention was caught by an envelope lying in the gutter. Assuming it was just a piece of windblown trash, I took a step past it, but as I did so my eye was drawn to the bold writing that appeared suddenly on the face of the envelope. It was the same mysterious writing I had seen when I unrolled the scroll! That was too much of a coincidence to ignore, and I quickly bent down and picked up the envelope.

With shaking hands I tore off the flap and peered inside. I could not believe what I saw, and thought it must be a joke. However, after a quick look around the street showed me there was no other person in sight, I clutched the envelope to my chest and dashed back to my motel room. My heart was beating furiously as I fumbled with my key in the lock, then hurried inside and slammed the door behind me. I threw the key on the table, tore the envelope open and let its contents flutter onto the bedspread. Then one by one I picked up the new hundred dollar bills with my right hand, counting them slowly as I made a neat stack of them in my left. By the time I had picked up the last one I had counted to twenty-five, and my trembling hand was holding two thousand five hundred dollars!

I could hardly believe or accept that such good fortune had come to me. My first thought, of course, was one of wondering who would have been careless enough to drop so much money in the street. That was immediately replaced by the recollection of seeing the mysterious writing appear on the envelope, which meant this was no coincidence- that money was meant for me to find. In that case I had to accept that I was destined to have the money. But why so much all at once? I only needed sixty dollars to keep the room for another day, or two hundred and fifty for a week.

Confusion began to infiltrate my thinking, and I started feeling like I was part of someone else’s plan, but they hadn’t bothered to tell me what my part was. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was very hungry and I now had the money to pay for a meal. Okay, first things first, and number one on my list was to feed myself. But there was this stupid problem with my money- it was all in hundreds! If I went down the street to the little diner, they wouldn’t take anything larger than a twenty dollar bill- they even had a sign by the register to that effect. What a dumb situation- too much money to buy a meal!

Then I remembered what kind of motel I was in- one where the desk clerk didn’t ask questions when a woman checked in at eleven pm with one guy, then checked out three hours later with a different guy- and paid for the room with a couple of fifties or a hundred dollar bill. Those women always got paid with big bills, so the desk clerk should certainly accept a hundred from me for another night’s stay. And I couldn’t care less what he thought of me.

But first I took one of the nice new hundred dollar bills over to the bathroom sink and got it slightly wet. Then I wadded it into a ball and took it outside where there were some half-dead flowers in a planter, and I rolled it around in the dirt for a few seconds. After it was good and grungy I straightened the bill out, brushed the dirt off and took it back inside where I blotted it dry with toilet paper. When I was through it looked like any other bill that had been in circulation for a long time and – most importantly - accepted everywhere it went. Then I walked over to the motel office and used that bill to pay for another day’s stay, with the clerk accepting it without hesitation. He didn’t even give me a second look, just handed me my change and that was that.