Jacob found that his urge to travel no longer contained specific destinations. He returned to traveling endlessly without purpose. Any joy he could have found in knowing he did not have to relive the memories of his deeds was shattered when the new book bound to his chains floated before him and opened.
A name glowed brightly on the page, and then a glowing copy of the words lifted from the page and floated in his vision. As Jacob walked, he was forced to read the information, to read the name of the person he had wronged in life. The words would not go away, like a pestering insect they limited his vision and gnawed at his tortured nerves. He tried everything he could think of to make the words go away. They were there when he closed his eyes, they remained when he slapped himself, when he shook his head or slammed his face upon the ground. He tried lifting the cash boxes he was dragging in the air and dropping them upon his head, but it was all for naught as the words persisted in his vision.
For days he walked with the person's information in his vision, always the same, always present. He gave up trying to make the words go away, trying to see his path through the words. He began muttering to himself, absentmindedly reading the words in his vision as they appeared.
In his astonishment, the words were suddenly gone.
“All it took was for the words to be read out loud and they go away!” Jacob shouted in relief, yet the feeling was premature.
The book rose into the air again, and a new set of words appeared before his face, limiting his vision once again. Jacob frantically began reading the words, to make them disappear as before, yet they would not go away. He read them again, desperate to satisfy whatever requirements the torturous words had of him. He repeated the words on the page over and over again, losing count of the times he said them. He roamed as he read out loud, often rambling the words incoherently as he slurred them together in his desperation to make them go away. Yet the more he read, the more he spoke, the more persistent and obstructive the words became.
Jacob stopped reading the words out loud, giving in to the torment, and traveling in silence for some time. The words could not help but be read as they were always in his vision, bright and oppressive. After several days Jacob read the words out loud again without knowing he was doing so, and the words faded away.
He sobbed into the air as the words faded, yet once again the joy was shattered as the book rose into the air. In desperation, Jacob begged for release, shouting at the book for forgiveness, pleading to understand whatever purpose this new trial wanted to teach him so the torment could end. There was no relief granted, and a new name and crime against his fellow man filled his vision.
This patterned continued without end for Jacob, days or even weeks passing before reading the words out loud would cause them to disappear. He could find no pattern on how long it took for the words to receive satisfaction before they would depart. He resigned himself to the torment, heaped upon the punishment of endless fatigue, travel with no rest, and never finding peace.
Eventually, Jacob noticed a change within the entries of the book when it opened to reveal its pages to him. Just before his vision was clouded over with glowing characters; he could see that some of the entries had a glowing checkmark next to them, and he immediately recognized the name and crime associated with the check as he had already endured that entry in his vision.
Jacob’s sight was limited by the words floating in his vision, and there was no thought he could latch onto that was not halted by the increasing weight of his burden. He continuously read the words in front of him until they would leave his vision, then start the process over when new words appeared.
At one-point, Jacob realized that he was reading an entry he had already read before, and it caused him to halt in surprise. Immediately the urge to continue moving increased to a deafening roar, so he obeyed the urge as he considered the words in his vision. He read them to himself a few times, before carefully stating them out loud, firmly, and slowly. The words disappeared, only to be replaced by another set of words that he had also read before. These words also disappeared as he read them, immediately being replaced by new words.
Whenever Jacob tried to rush through the words or did not read them precisely enough, the words would linger in his vision, prompting him to start over and try again. This happened more often than not as Jacob was desperate to have the words removed, although he was desperate in all things now.
Eventually, the entries were all read a second time, and the book rose into the air in front of Jacob and opened facing him. Nothing glowed or appeared in the air, the book just sat there in his face. Each entry had a second check next to it now, and an empty space where a third check could fit. Jacob knew what was required of him, and he started reading the entries out loud, slowly. As he read each entry, the space was filled with a check.
Jacob found that he had each entry memorized. He could start reading a name and then close his eyes and say the information out loud, so he did exactly that. He read aloud the crimes he had committed against his fellow man, receiving a full knowledge of his guilt as each crime reached his ears. His voice became emotional as he reread, as he remembered, as he relived the moments in his mind without the aid of visions. He cried softly as the words escaped his lip, his eyes closed as if in prayer. He found himself reading the next entry without having to open his eyes to see the name on the page. The book was seared into his soul, and he knew the information as if the book was an extension of himself.
Jacob reached the end of the entries in his mind and opened his eyes to find himself returned to the chapel of the church Daniel had taken him to. He was standing at the pulpit looking out over the same congregation as before, all witnesses to his crimes. There was a change from before. Instead of forgiveness, love, and pity on their faces, he saw what he expected to feel the first time he had seen them. He saw anger. He saw hatred. He saw disgust.
Daniel and Andrew appeared between him and the congregation, each holding their book in one hand, and a link of his chain in the other. Without a word they began to pull at his chain, pulling him through the pulpit and towards the congregation. The room seemed to swim and sway, shimmering as it altered in shape and proportion until there was a single pew in the back of the chapel. Jacob turned around to see that the pulpit had been pushed forward until it was in front of the pew, and there were cascading stairs descending from the pulpit towards the ceiling, all holding those he had wronged in life.
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Daniel and Andrew pulled at his chains, forcing him into a sitting position on the pew, and tied his chains to the bench. Their books floated in the air while their hands were preoccupied, waiting to be grabbed again when they were finished with their task.
The smallest child came to the pulpit, and the pulpit seemed to shrink, or the floor to rise, or somewhere in between so that the child was seamlessly at its top looking down at Jacob. The girl spoke to Jacob in a clear child’s voice, high pitched and appropriate for her age, yet the words used were far beyond the education she would have had at that point in life.
“Alice O'Sullivan, March 18th, 10:52 am on Vine Street. I stepped in front of your carriage and you scolded me for being a fool. You asked my name. Upon hearing my surname, you told your driver to run me over called me a-”
Jacob knew the story by heart, he knew exactly what he had called out to the girl, and that she had ducked under the carriage to avoid the wheels. Her small size was the only reason she was not trampled by the horse, and Jacob remembered looking out the rear window of his buggy at the girl. She was lying in the mud, unmoving, and he had felt satisfaction, the satisfaction that he had reminded her of her place in life.
When Alice was finished with her story the next child came to the pulpit and the process was repeated. Jacob found his head immoveable, that he was forced to stare into the eyes of each person that came to the pulpit, and hear every word they had to say to him. He had it all memorizes, all seared into his soul, yet hearing the words spoken by those he had offended, seeing their eyes, seeing their anger, their hurt, their pain … Jacob wanted to shut his eyes from their stares, to peel his face from their direction, yet he could do neither.
The audience came by age, growing older as each new person spoke. Jacob found himself mouthing their words as they were spoken, feeling them brand upon his soul all over again, this time with a face to associate with the information. Tears streamed down his face as he heard their witness against him. It seemed an age passed as he heard every detail of the damning of his soul.
When the last person finished their testament against him, Daniel and Andrew removed the chains from the bench and pulled his chains back towards the opposite end of the room. The room shifted the same as before, and in an instant, Jacob was standing at the pulpit facing the congregation of victims as he had before, their anger still plain on their faces.
“Jacob, you grew angry when you saw forgiveness in their eyes. How do you feel now? What did unforgiving animosity make you feel?” Daniel asked him calmly.
Jacob was having a difficult time speaking, feeling deep emotions from the experience of reliving the totality of his crimes against mankind in such a personal way. He could hardly speak but managed to get a few words out.
“I feel … as if … I have done nothing worthwhile in my … entire life” Jacob said between sobs.
“You died a wealthy man, did you not?” Andrew asked, his voice very similar to his brothers.
“I would give it all away to sponge the writing from one entry in that book,” Jacob said, pointing to the book filled with his sins sitting closed on the pulpit in front of him.
“There is nothing you can do to save yourself from your torment,” Daniel said firmly.
“I do not seek salvation. I am consigned to my endless fate. I understand that regret, and the desire to erase the past is part of that very fate. Still … if I could help one person, even if it did not lessen my damnation so much as the weight of a farthing from these cash boxes I drag about … I would do so” Jacob said resolutely.
Daniel and Andrew said nothing in reply, and it was then that Jacob saw a change in the faces of the audience around him. He saw the forgiveness, love, and pity from the first time he had witnessed their faces.
This time Andrew spoke. He seemed to be the senior of the two brothers as if his stewardship was grander in some way, yet without lessening the value or importance of his brother’s stewardship in the slightest.
“Jacob, the desire of your heart is a product of the torment you are experiencing, which only came to you after your mortality ended. It was this experience, without faith in things unseen, that helped you to develop a full awareness of your guilt. Know now that your fatigue and endless travel is your damnation. The hatred, or forgiveness, that you see upon the faces of these people around you is a product of your own creation.”
“Are you saying I can feel forgiveness within damnation? That I can feel happiness within torment?”
“No. I am saying that the damnation and the torment was crea-” Daniel was interrupted by Jacob.
“Because I created it when I made my trespasses against these people,” Jacob said impatiently, waving his hand around the room at the audience to their conversation.
Andrew smiled slightly, a smile of patience.
“He is not yet ready, Daniel” and he disappeared.
The congregation disappeared with Andrew and much of the light around the room. Daniel remained, and turned to Jacob with the light centered on his personage.
“Jacob, I must leave you for a time, but I would still offer you the three questions I owed from before … if you have questions to ask” Daniel said softly.
Daniel seemed to be disappointed, although as to what exactly was a mystery to Jacob.
Jacob seemed to struggle within himself. It was plain he did have questions, yet he remembered the stubborn way in which he refused Daniel's offer from before. In life; if he had taken a stance with someone over a dispute, his pride would have prevented him from altering his perspective later on. Yet knowledge within his torment was better than blind torment, so he swallowed his pride.
“Thank you, Daniel, …” the words were difficult for him, for he rarely expressed gratitude to anyone outside of the expectations of society “… I have many more questions after the events of this chapel, yet I have not yet formulated them into words. However, I suppose I can ask questions I have pondered on in the past.”
Daniel said nothing in response, merely waiting for the questions to be asked.
“I suspect today is the fourth anniversary of my death. I have noticed my torment is altered slightly after each anniversary after my visitor departs. Is this pattern to continue indefinitely?” Jacob asked.
Daniel surprised Jacob by laughing out loud quite merrily, then with a warm smile, he spoke.
“I do not believe you intended to combine so many questions into a single thought, but I shall count it as one question all the same. You are correct, today marks four years since your mortal passing. The pattern of an annual … ‘visitor’ as you called it, will continue until there is no longer hope of understanding.”
“Hope of understanding what?” Jacob asked.
“I did not intend to trick you out of a question, Jacob. So, are you sure that is the second question you wish to ask?”
Jacob thought on this for a moment before nodding his head in assent.
“Very well. Understanding why you can do nothing to save yourself, and before you ask anything more, know that is all I can say on this matter” Daniel said firmly.
“Then for my last question. Who were the two babes you held in your arms at our last meeting?”
Daniel had tears well up in his eyes for a moment, tears of happiness, and Jacob had a feeling the tears were not for the babes, but for himself.
“Of all the questions you could have asked to understand your torment or something of your recent experience, you ask concerning the infants you briefly encountered. This brings me joy, Jacob. They are my cousins, cousins who departed this world before they could experience it for themselves.”
“Your three questions have been answered, but before I leave your presence I have a gift for you. Know that your torment will not be lessened by its presence. The exhaustion will not be decreased through its company, nor the crushing weight of your crimes lifted by it … but I pray this book will give you a greater understanding of … unknown things” Daniel said, letting go of the book he carried in his hand as it floated to Jacob.
Jacob grabbed the book just as the light in the room, and Daniel, disappeared. He opened its cover and read the first line.
“1: The book of the generation of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham …”