Shadowed: Chapter 4: Getting to Know You
Alone at last, Jae and Margaret can have some good ole girl time together, now that Jae’s two small children are being taken off…well, who knows where? Surely not Jae or the children’s fugitive father.
Both women wept, commiserating over the loss of brother and son.
Yeah, too little, too late, Jenkins. Five minutes ago, Margaret was rolling her eyes at her silly husband and his silly ways.
Jae had never felt the presence of God so clearly, and it terrified her. She had loved getting to know Him through the New Testament discs…
Um, she had? Because that’s not how I remember it:
But sadly, Jae has officially drunk the Flavor-Aid:
Strangely, though, while she had predicted that she wouldn’t understand Him or like Him much if the curse was enacted, she found only the former true.
Well, naturally. Disliking the being that killed your brother would be just plain weird. Especially the brother you loved, your friend and confidante. I’m close to my brother, too, and I can’t even begin to wrap my head around what a normal person would feel in this situation. But Jae, like all good little RTCs, has become so thoroughly sociopathic that she can’t even bring herself to not like her brother’s murderer.
And she knows that Berlitz, who probably never even saw a Bible in the whole course of his life, is now roasting in A Place Called Hell. Forever. For the crime of not believing.
Oh well. Them’s the breaks, eh?
It wasn’t that she was happy about what had occurred. Who could be?
Oh, I don’t know…your husband, for one? Given his celebration over the thousands of deaths at God’s hand in Los Angeles, I can only imagine that he’s that much happier now. It’s only the fact that he actually has to watch over his own children that’s keeping him from a big ole party.
But that it was so specific, so definite, so crystal clear, made her fear God with such profound respect and awe that any doubt escaped her.
Oh yeah, Jae? Yanno who else did specific, definite, crystal clear things, huh?
Yeah, I went there.
Aside from that, I know Jenkins bangs these books out at the speed of shit, but does that really excuse this?
It wasn’t that she was happy…[but] any doubt escaped her.
These…are not even close to the same thing, Jenkins. Holy crap.
Yeah, God has proved himself to her. And proved that he is an unimaginably evil, murdering monster. He may be a god, but really, the only response to such a being is to fight him. Or, hell, I’ll even give you flight. Why not?
But worship? That is a bridge too far.
This goes on and on, and the upshot is that Jae thinks like Paul now, with perhaps a smidge less bloodlust.
But the important thing that transpires here is that Jenkins engages in a rather subtle (I know, I’m shocked, too) retcon. He refers to the “New Testament” that Jae had listened to, “all the recorded Scripture” she had heard.
It’s a bit tricksy of him, but it leaves the impression that Jae knows much more of the Bible than she actually does. Remember, in Silenced, Jae started with Acts, barely making it into Romans. Even being generous and assuming that this vague reference means she made it all the way to Hebrews during her time in Washington, that still means that she has read less than 10% of the Bible. If we assume she only made it into Romans (the last direct Bible quote we get), that drops to 4%.
So we’re not exactly talking about a Bible expert, here.
Here is Jae’s Big Prayer, while she sits comforting her mother on the loss of Berlitz:
Lord, I have had my mind and heart thoroughly changed. I believe in You with all that is in me. Thank you for Jesus. Forgive me for rejecting You for so long.
Oh, and that whole killing-my-brother thing? No worries. It’s all good.
As Jae is officially making the transaction, Paul is busy coming to terms with the death of one of the few people to ever be able to stand his presence for even a few minutes: Bob Koontz.
Oh, and Tick Harrelson is dead, too. Paul literally does not even react to this news, but it makes me sad. Tick was a good guy.
Oh, and Felicia? She lost her son and her brother-in-law.
Paul felt for Felicia. What could he say?
Yeah, I guess it’s hard to say “sorry” for calling down the wrath of God on innocent men and boys and babies and consigning them to Hell forever. There’s not a good Hallmark card for that, either.
But Paul tries:
“I was hoping it wouldn’t have to happen.”
“I’m so sorry, Felicia. I really am.”
Heh, yeah. I’ll bet.
“Yeah? Are you? Well, so am I. What am I supposed to do now?”
That’s a damned good question, and one Paul decides he really doesn’t feel like answering.
A tone sounded from one of Paul’s molars. “I’ve got another call, Felicia.”
Yeah, no shit. And Paul wanted to be so helpful, too. Stand-up guy that he is, and all.
The call is from Straight. Paul wants Straight to get his ass into the Columbia underground. (Oh, and probably those kids in the backseat, too—Whoever and What’s-His-Face.)
But Straight deems Paul too “hot” for the underground to let him in just like that…
…so they just kinda figure that maybe the wanted fugitive and his two tiny children should stay “on the move.”
Once again, Paul,