One Unknown

ONE UNKNOWN

  By: One Unknown

  Dedication: For you

  Chapter 1: Truth

  Good and evil, we know, in the field of this world grow up together almost inseparably; and the knowledge of good is so involved and interwoven with the knowledge of evil that we cannot even tell right from wrong. Unknowingly we pursue evil believing it to be good. In this way, we fall into misery.

  The answer to one question would solve all of the world’s pain. “What is good? How can it be defined?” We do not seek a choice, but a definition. If we could only find the good, whatever it is, would we not follow it? I do not speak of that which is good for all, but only the selfish good for each alone. Knowing the true form of evil, no one deliberately seeks it. No one wants to be unhappy. Why then are we all chained to sorrow? I promise you, all will be happy when they discover the true meaning of the good.

  Some will argue that pursuit of selfish gain is not the answer to the world’s problems. These are the poor souls who suffer for mankind and endure abandonment by a world that wants to forget suffering. They seek the good of all, even if it destroys them. They cannot believe whatever is good for each is good for all. For the good of one is entwined with the good of all. Neither can survive alone. Both arise from the same Truth. This Truth is the definition of the good. This Truth will bring joy to all humanity.

  I have discovered this Truth. I have written this book so that you too may understand it and find peace. The Truth, shrouded in darkness and a cloud of unknowning, is not easy to understand. To reveal it, I must relate my life, my journey, my pain. Trust me. We who are strangers now will become good friends. I will lead and we will follow each other. For in reading my journey, you will find it is the same as yours. I wrote this book, but the story is about you.

  Chapter 2: Death

  Who am I? I am a man of sorrows, well acquainted with grief. If you want to understand this, we must return to the beginning of my journey.

  Who was I? What was I? From where did I come? What was my destination?

  To answer these questions, I must begin with my death. I do not speak of physical death, but, far worse, the death of the soul. The price of physical death is small and relatively painless when measured against the entire span of life. The death of the soul is unending; every day you live, it dies again.

  The soul always dies slowly. You cannot point to a time and say, “That is when my soul died.” The soul dies through starvation. Slowly, painfully, quietly, it slips away.

  You realize your soul is dead when hope becomes a waking dream. Your life will always be hell. You cannot change it. You cannot wake up. A nightmare cannot be controlled, it must be endured.

  My soul died and my waking dream began in college. Why then? I can only guess. I believe college was the first place I could be invisible. A place filled with so many people, I was able to become lost without anyone noticing.

  I became lost. I accept full responsibility for what happened. They simply set up the machine. I strapped myself in, not because I wanted to, but because I couldn’t help myself. I confess. I am a murderer. I killed my own soul.

  Chapter 3: Non-Existence

  Everyone said college would be great, but for me it was torture. I felt miserably shy and alone, as if I was on one side of a glass wall and everyone else was on the other.

  I withdrew from life, friends, work, school, and especially love. I ran away, not because I wanted to, but because it was easier to run than to face my problems.

  I did not want to talk to anyone. I was afraid someone would ask me, “How are you?” I had no answer to that thoughtless question. I was not fine.

  At first, some tried to help me, maybe even tried to be my friend. They were unsuccessful and eventually stopped trying. Even saints have limits. Some people don’t deserve friends. There are never any successful suicides among people with friends. Suicide victims die alone.

  I woke up one morning and realized there was nobody there – I no longer existed. My life became pointless and I became worthless trash. I fell into an unchanging routine. I had no reason to get out of bed in the morning, so I invented one. I felt compelled to attend my classes even though I knew they were meaningless. How could classes, how could anything, help? You couldn’t call it living because it wasn’t. I was dead, one without hope.

  As soon as my classes ended, I returned to my room. My room, my safe haven, my prison. Knowingly I locked myself into this cage. I wanted to explode with energy and fly away as fast as mortally possible. I wanted to escape, but I could not. I left it only to go to class. Weekends were hell. On those days, I never left the shadows.

  Loneliness is the greatest torment of all. There is no use in feeling lonely, absolutely no use. Nevertheless, loneliness tortured me.

  My life was nothing except loneliness. I was so alone that the laughter, the cheerfulness of others, cut me like a knife. I continually assaulted myself asking, “What is wrong with me?” I moaned like a dove all my days, “Why can’t I be happy?” My songless soul longed to drift out past the sea of pain where my shapeless life was wrecked, but I could not escape.

  Soon I lost all emotion, all feeling, except hate. Hate, not for others, they were not responsible, but hate for myself. Hate so powerful I felt joy when I suffered.

  If you understand this, I pray for you. If you do not, I mourn for you. This was my life, by day sighing, by night lamentation. This was my life, monthly trepidation, despair the year. This was my life, unborn, unending, unchanging.

  Chapter 4: Chosen

  You never know the day that will change your life. The day mine changed, I have to admit, was beautiful. The sun was shining and the grass was very green. Everyone was laughing.

  I was starving. It was nearly noon and I had not eaten since 7:00 o’clock. The school had a cafeteria, but it was crowded. I had no desire to go inside and eat sitting by myself. I didn’t want others to know how alone I was, all alone in a crowded place. Instead, I sat on the lawn in the shade of a fig tree waiting for the lunch hour to end and my next class to begin. Waiting and watching the normal students playing on the lawn.

  I didn’t see the man until he sat down across from me. It is strange to say, considering his effect on people, that nothing about his personality or appearance stood out. He appeared to be a normal man in his mid-30s. The only interesting thing about him was his T-shirt, which read O.W.V.

  I acknowledged his presence but said nothing. I always assumed no one wanted to talk to me.

  “What are you seeking?” he said.

  This seemed like a strange question, but I felt compelled to answer. I looked at those playing on the lawn and said, “Happiness.”

  The man shook his head, “We are all searching for happiness, yet can anyone define it?” Before I could answer he said, “I look at what ordinary people find happiness in, what they make a mad dash for, racing around as if they can’t stop. They live for what is always out of reach. They all say they’re happy with it. In the end is there really happiness or isn’t there?”

  “I don’t know. Life eats up pleasure. It requires you to be successful, rich, and perfect while still having inner peace.”

  He laughed, “O generation of the thoughtlessly smug and thoroughly uncomfortable. No successful person has ever been happy.”

  “Who are you, and what do you want from me?”

  “My name is Jacob. I want to help you, and I want you to help me. You are on a journey. You have been traveling for longer than you can remember and you are weary. You were lost but I have found you. Now I need you to help me find others who are lost. Save me and I will save you.”

  I stood up and brushed the grass from my legs, “Sorry I can’t help anyone, not even myself.”

&nbs
p; He did not try to stop me from leaving, but he whispered, “It is never too late to be what you might have been.”

  For some reason this caused me to stay. Maybe it was hope overcoming reality. “If I am on a journey, can you tell me which way I ought to go from here?”

  “That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.”

  “You know what I seek.”

  “Yes, and we both know you will not find it here.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Leave here, leave everything and follow me. I will teach you the good and right way.”

  At that point, I still thought I had a choice, but I was ready to listen. We spoke for over an hour. Finally, he stood up. “You control your own destiny. Now that you know who you are, what do you want to be? If you want to change your life and follow me, come here tomorrow at 7:00 o’clock.” He left.

  Thus ended a day memorable to me; it decided my future destiny.

  Chapter 5: Choice?

  I did not deliberate. Does that shock you, friends? Would you be afraid to abandon your entire life? I had nothing to leave behind. When one has lived a long time alone and someone calls and offers a chance to end loneliness, you cannot refuse. This was my last chance to break free, my last chance to save my soul.

  I lay awake all night, not in fear or worry, but in anticipation. Wherever I was going, I was leaving this place, leaving my prison. Could anything really be worse than this? A change, no matter how frightening, must be better. If only I had seen this before.

  I heard other students talking and laughing in the hall. No longer did this pain me. No longer did I have to pass the endless nights hopeless and alone. “I could go out there,” I thought, “talk with them, be like them if only for one night.” How could there be any consequences. I was leaving tomorrow; I would never see any of them again. I burned with a mad desire to throw open my door and shout, “Here I am! I exist!”

  I locked the door. I no longer worried about rejection or embarrassment. Now I feared that somehow, in some ungodly way, I would become too normal. I would find friends, become part of the social life, and end my loneliness. All of the things I prayed for every day, but no longer wanted. If I became normal, Jacob would abandon me. He chose me because I was weak and worthless.

  Therefore, I did nothing. Unable to sleep, I stared out at the campus. Darkness lay upon the earth but the stars shone brightly in the heavens. I was ready to change.

  At 6:00 o’clock, I left with nothing but the clothes on my back. All that was mine I carried with me. I never looked back.

  Chapter 6: Disciples

  I found Jacob and his disciples at exactly 7 o’clock. I don’t know who I expected the Messiah to choose as his followers, but I was surprised. The disciples were lounging around a small bus. They looked worn out, as if they had just finished a 12-hour road trip. Their clothes were not exactly dirty, but they were not fresh. Nevertheless, all were smiling.

  The media has said many hurtful and untrue things about these people. Not all of them play a large part in our story, but I think you deserve to know the true disciples.

  Simon, their unofficial leader, greeted me first. He was everything I am not: Tall, attractive, outgoing, and so on. If we met in another way, I would have immediately loathed him. In fact, considering what went on between us, I should hate him now. However, I consider him my best friend. He shook my hand, “Welcome to our group,” he said.

  Next Andrew and James, two large brothers, so similar no one could tell them apart, greeted me. They told me Jacob had called them while they were making tires and they had followed without hesitation. I never saw them without their goofy smiles. Even when the trouble fell upon us, they faced it with their grins. First Andrew then James picked me up in a bearhug and said, “Welcome little brother”

  As I was gasping for air, Atarah and Stephen shook my hand. They seemed out of place to me, both as followers of Jacob and as friends. Atarah was a thin short man who looked to be barely twenty years old. His clothing marked him as a Hasidic Jew. Stephen was about fifty and wore a turban on his head, which he later explained to me was because he was a Sufi.

  “He is surprised to see us,” Atarah said laughing, “doesn’t he know our people were awaiting the Messiah as well.”

  “Christians always forget this,” Stephen said smiling, “but it is one of the few things we all agree on.” Now all the disciples were laughing.

  Even Atarah and Stephen’s weirdness could not compare to that of the next disciple. She wore normal fashionable clothes but her hair was bright blue and red. Her name was Luish but she called herself Aurora. I never understood why, but she said it had to do with her religion so I accepted it. When I later asked where her religion came from she said she invented it, just as all religions are invented. The best I can tell she followed a mishmash of benign witchcraft, worship of the moon, and devotion to what she called, “the true goddess.” I guess I found it weird and wonderful that she would follow a male Messiah.

  “Welcome to the inner circle,” she said hugging me.

  To my surprise, Luish was not the oddest of the clan. The next one, Joel, far surpassed her in strangeness. He was the first person I ever met who wore overalls on a daily basis. When I asked him why, he just shrugged and said, “I have always worn’em.” He was somewhat resistant to change. He was also incredibly dirty, and I never saw him cleaner than he was that day. He said something that sounded like, “Welcome to the party,” but understanding what he said was always a challenge.

  Then came John, who everyone called “Little John.” Of all the disciples, I think he understood me the best. He rarely spoke and when he did, it was in a soft quiet voice. He mumbled a “Hello,” and went back to staring at his shoes.

  Following John were Philip and Matthew. They were great friends but constantly argued about religious matters because Philip was a Methodist and Matthew was a Baptist. I never understood the difference, but they insisted their views were miles apart.

  Finally, there was Mary. I fell in love with her as soon as I saw her. Girls like her are the reason men fall in love. She was beautiful in a way that makes the word sound ugly, beautiful in a way that stops children and men on the street, beautiful in a way that unsettles, frightens, and awes. I can describe her only by asking you to think of the most beautiful thing in the world. The best cannot be described in words.

  First, I lusted after her hair, reddish gold and the exact color of the rising sun. Then, I fell in love with her smile and her wonderful laugh. Later, I would adore her for her spirit and her courage.

  “Hello,” she said. Just one word but it made me feel like the luckiest person in the world. I don’t know if I even spoke. I was too entranced to care.

  After I had met them all, Jacob slapped me on the back, “I have found my last disciple, it is time to return.”

  For some reason all of the others cheered. At that moment, we all knew he was the Messiah. We all were prepared to give our lives for him and I think we would have, if he had asked us then. Later, when we all betrayed him, things had changed.

  Chapter 7: Journey

  Now there was no turning back. We boarded the bus and my journey began. I didn’t know where to sit so I quickly got in and chose a seat near the front. The others began to board and take what I assumed were their accustomed seats.

  When I saw Mary coming up the steps, I prayed that she would sit next to me. It seemed as if my prayers would be answered when she paused by my seat and smiled.

  “I’m glad we will get a chance to talk,” she said, “sometimes these trips can be boring.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled as my heart choked me and tried to explode all at once.

  “Sure, he can tell us all about his life,” Simon said, pushing past Mary and sitting down in the seat across from me. “That way you won’t have to be bored just sitting with me.” He playfully pulled Mary into the seat next to him.

  “Shut up Simon,” she
said punching him in the arm and rolling her eyes.

  I should have been consumed with jealousy but I was accustomed to disappointment. Mary and Simon were together and I would just have to deal with that.

  I figured I would ride alone, but unfortunately Joel plopped himself down next to me. His overpowering stench told me the all day bus ride was not going to be pleasant. Oh well, no one said eternal salvation would be easy.

  Jacob, of course, drove the bus. He closed the door, started her up, made a careful left turn out of the campus, and we were off.

  Joel immediately began pelting me with questions about my life. I wanted to avoid that subject, so I gave him some vague answers and tried to talk to Mary and Simon.

  “So how do we pay for gas and food?” I asked.

  Jacob overheard my question, “We are on a journey, and when you are on a journey you more often than not have to beg you way in order to get where you are going. Don’t be discouraged, God will provide us with what we need, He always has before. You will be surprised at how many good and wonderful people there are in the world willing to help those in need.”

  “Of course, there is a limit,” Simon said, “We do have to sleep on the bus. We always have enough to eat but the Son of Man has no place to lay His head.”

  Jacob laughed, “Stop that ridiculous talk. Things aren’t that bad. We usually find someplace to camp.”

  Thank God I thought. The idea of sleeping near Joel every night gave me chills.

  I noticed that Jacob had turned the bus onto the interstate, “Where are we going anyway?”

  Everyone fell silent and looked intently at Jacob. “Have you found the beginning, then, that you are looking already for the end?” he said, “What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us. Save tomorrow for tomorrow. Worry about today instead.”

  Chapter 8: Grace

  I still remember the first time I heard Jacob preach. I can’t possibly convey to you how mesmerizing he was in person. I can give you a summary of what he said, but his magic lay, not in his words, but in how he spoke. Often, as in his first sermon, he taught of ordinary things. You could hear similar words in any church on Sunday.