The Second Coming

By Uma Brun

It's time for Yesu to return to Earth. But he is less eager to take on that assignment than his twin sister, Ashandi. With persuasion from his twins, their father decides for her to assume the mission, with Yesu coming along as her guide.

The mission? She must take part in a healing ceremony for the earth. First, she must discover how to navigate life in modern America and use her considerable gifts to create the required music. But as her brother knows all too well, people of Earth do not often respond to gentle persuasion. If the ceremony fails, are the people of Earth ready for what's next?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798886544329

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The Second Coming

Uma Brun

Copyright © 2022 Uma Brun

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 979-8-88654-431-2 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88654-432-9 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

About the Author

Chapter 1

Over the kiva ladder, the sky shown from horizon to horizon, as it always did, with bold, overarching stripes of color. Pathways of glittering, golden sand and dirt encircled the hardened bricks of the plaza and curved between the stacked houses of the pueblo. A newcomer to the village might be taken aback by the stark sky and the ubiquitous ladders, those jutting from the two kivas sunk into the plaza as well as the ones above providing access to upper levels of the adobe buildings. The two masked beings sitting below, side by side on the dirt bench cut into the adobe walls of the first kiva, however, were anything but newcomers. They were referred to by villagers simply as the twins.

The mask of one of the twins bore only slightly more feminine lines than the other, the only other distinguishing feature being the elevens on her cheeks painted in thin black lines. Both masks were large in comparison with the white-robed bodies beneath them, the faces painted white, with long black hair flowing beside bangs cut straight just above the eyebrows. The feminine being wore an elaborate silver-and-turquoise necklace, her brother adorned with a chain of silver, a simple silver rose pendant lying on his chest.

The feminine masked being spoke first, using the most primitive language in the universe. Though the language might sound strange to that newcomer, he or she could, for reasons unknown, understand what was being said in a primordial depth, a depth inside themselves never before touched by language, the words releasing chemicals within of which they were previously unaware, affecting a general aura of peace, well-being, and perfect kindness. For the villagers, the language was treasured as the gift available only to themselves, the highest order of spiritual beings. Visitors rarely came, but if they did, they looked back on their visit to the Rainbow Village as a treasured experience, not something to be discussed when they returned to their more secular existences. Beings throughout the universe generally believed in the existence of the Rainbow Village but for the most part held its existence as a hope more than a fact of their everyday lives.

No other beings sat with the twins. Ashandi had invited her brother to join her here to express the feelings that had been sealed inside her for millennia. Both of them knew that a message would be delivered to them soon from their father. It was this impending message that had Ashandi feeling that it was now her turn to act. She turned to her brother.

I hear the footsteps of our father approaching.

Yes. His steps have that determined, dogged pace signaling an announcement.

We both know what that announcement will be.

We think we know. But, of course, we've been wrong about his intentions before.

The footsteps thundered across the plaza and stopped. They both looked up to see the mask of their father as he peered into the opening at the top of the kiva. The mask was of an ogre figure, too terrible for the uninitiated to behold, with a voice that echoed seemingly endlessly.

"Yesu? It's time. My son, the time has come."

The masked being moved away from the opening, but they could feel his presence above them, awaiting a response. He was in no hurry and was prepared to wait as long as necessary for his son's decision. Having long since risen above the dramas of everyday village life, he no longer entered the kiva, the space in which issues were discussed, ceremonies planned, and decisions made. His were the rhythms of the universe, and he communicated with villagers only when his internal calendar of prophesies required action. The twins sat in silence, allowing the words to become a part of their being, to wash over them with meaning and feelings of the future and the past.

Though the twins were indeed twins, Yesu appeared to be considerably older than his sister because of his previous travels to other parts of the universe. According to Rainbow Village reckoning, Ashandi was but a young maiden while her brother was a seasoned being, having lived as a man on another plane, suffered torture and death, thus fulfilling one of his callings.

Time for your return to Earth, just as we knew as he approached, Ashandi said, removing her mask to reveal a vibrant young face, full of energy and expectations.

Yes, Yesu said with a bit of sad resignation in his words. Sadness and resignation were sentiments unusual in the sweetness of the village spirit.

Ashandi's heart broke at the sound of them. She stood and knelt before him, taking his hands in her own. He also removed his mask, revealing a middle-aged face, intelligent and kind.

I can't imagine dreading such a calling, my fortunate brother!

I'm just wondering what good it will do. Earth people, as much as I loved them, are incorrigible children. They would not listen to my council the first time. Even my closest followers failed to understand my purpose when I was with them. After I left, they continue to use my name to disturb the delicate balance of Earth. And now they propose spreading their malignancies throughout the universe. He paused, looking up at the kiva opening. Father's expectation is that I will teach them the hard way this time. No love, no human kindness. Those virtues will be over forever for them. Many of those who call themselves my followers have already become what you might call mean. They hate and warmonger, claiming it is in my name. But you know, Shandi, that I do not have that in me. Father is asking too much this time. I do not think I am up to it. I do not want to become, to act, vengeful, to judge. The ceremony he has planned is to discipline them violently even to end all life if they continue to transgress the natural order.

Ashandi jumped to her feet and paced back and forth in front of her brother, arms flying up in enthusiasm and rage. "Oh, Yesu! How I would love to go! He is right to put an end to their behavior one way or another. How I would love to set them straight. How dare they be so bold!"

Once again, she knelt in front of him and took his hands. Just think what they did to you! she exclaimed, rubbing the scars on top of each of his hands and turning them over to touch the scars on the inside.

She looked up into his face. "And they're still torturing any emissary we send. They're still hating and torturing each other. They're even torturing Earth itself. Either that or they've resigned themselves to a life of drudgery in order to rise in wealth above their brothers and sisters. Oh, how I would love to show them how foolish they have been to abandon the Path of Beauty!"

Go then. Go in my place. I will gladly let you do the honors.

Sure! she said, rising. She began to pace again but this time more slowly and thoughtfully. "As if he, she pointed upward, will ever let me do anything. He keeps me here as if in a glass case. To look good. To attend ceremonies. To dance. But what, really, has he ever let me do to prove myself worthy? And I don't want Sewa following this same path. I want her to become a healer like you."

"Our little sister would love to follow in your footsteps if you have the courage to take this step."

She paused to look her brother in the eyes then slowly resumed her pacing, thinking aloud, "He would never agree. He will never think me capable of performing the necessary healing ceremony. When has he ever changed a decision once he has made it?"

He rose and took her hands and gently reminded her, You have never asked.

"You didn't ask to go the first time. You're not asking to go now. He would never agree."

Ask him.

She led him back to the bench where he sat, and she flung herself to her knees, using the bench as an altar from which she raised her face to the ceiling to shout, Oh god! If only I had the nerve!

Maybe he would consider it if… he said, rising as if an idea is taking shape in his mind, I went along…as your…your guide, he finished his idea, turning and reaching for her hands to bring her up from her knees, haltingly.

You would do that? You would go with me? Oh, my brother, she said, kissing each of his hands. Will you help me ask? That will be the hardest part.

For you, Shandi, anything. But I need time to think. He turned away and began his own pacing and thinking aloud, I could love them while I was among them, but looking back…they've learned nothing. So few care about anything except the most trivial of life's possibilities. Most are… he paused, "almost heartless. Spiritual infants is the term that comes to mind though without the endearing qualities of infants. They, most of them, regardless of their artful religions, will do anything for money or security. The modern cultures have enslaved them to their material world."

Coming out of his reverie, he turned and placed Shandi's face within his hands. I fear it is too late, my beloved sister, for them to regain the Path of Beauty. He sat again on the kiva bench, shaking his head, then looked up into her face. No. Not you, Shandi. They will never accept you. No one is ready for what they will have in store for any of us. You should not suffer for them.

Suffer? I'm not one to suffer! Ashandi began to twirl, clapping her hands, still full of hope. But ready? Oh, sweet brother, I am so ready! I am ready to go. I have lived forever for this assignment. Yes, I fear asking HIM, she said, pointing her lips upward toward the kiva's opening, but I could do even that to pave a path toward actualization for Sewa.

I would be there if you needed me, he said. After a long pause, he looked up at her again and said, Let's do it then! He rose and looked up toward the opening at the top of the kiva. Extending his hand upward, he smiled at his sister and said, Let's approach him together.

At last. Something we can do together, she said, going to the bench where she gathered their belongings. Both donning their masks, they looked upward, she ascending the ladder first, followed by her brother.

Chapter 2

Since moving to Los Angeles, Ray Talakai was even less sure of who he was than he'd been on the reservation. Oh, he was a census-card-carrying Navajo all right because his mother was a Navajo. And his father—like himself, half African-American and half Navajo—had even been a member of the tribal council a few years back. That hadn't stopped his classmates back then from calling him ishini, the Navajo word for black, pronounced zhinnie as in Zhinnie, Zhinnie Cocoa Pop, though he didn't think his skin was that much darker than theirs. He had an almost-traditional family and clan, much as his tormentors did, and he spoke the language better than most did back then and better than almost anyone did now.

Walking the three miles from his and Lydia's tiny apartment left him feeling energized. Unlike most days when his job as assistant to the director required a 7:00-a.m.-to-4:00-p.m. schedule, today he was on a 3:00-p.m.-to-midnight shift because of tonight's party. He unlocked the side door of the building and let himself in. It was an old building, but with donations from the uber wealthy of Los Angeles as well as the merely filthy rich, it had been well-maintained. The well-worn Saltillo tiles of the hallway that led to his office smelled waxy and shone from a recent buffing. The thick, white-washed adobe walls were earthy and effectively shut out the sounds of both car traffic and air-braking buses on the heavily-used street that ran along the left side of the building. Though the neighborhood was considered inner city in the worst sense of the word, pockets of historically preserved buildings such as this one added character to its surroundings. Gangs, for the most part, didn't consider the building theirs for some reason unknown to him, so tagging seldom occurred on the outside walls and never on the inside, something Rev. Elijah Pearce would have taken issue with. Even the notorious gangs, it seemed, weren't sure they wanted to dance with the Rev. Elijah Pearce.

At last week's meeting, Elijah had laid out his plans for the midyear Christmas-themed graduation party he was throwing for the neighborhood students who would be completing their high school credits the fall semester. It would be a potluck and dance to honor the five he knew of so far.

Looks like you're expecting a crowd, Ray said. How many tables do you need set up? Ray tried to keep up as Elijah swept out of his office and, arms full of tablecloths, down the hall into the party room.

A few students and some Inner-City Assembly staff were apparently putting the finishing touches on the room's elaborate decorations. The party would be held in the community hall, the largest room in the building. At various times, the hall served as a hot-lunch cafeteria for the needy, a Bible study hall, an adult Sunday school classroom, and, like tonight, a party place and ballroom.

Here are the pictures you asked for, Sydney Graves, the youth pastor, said, holding up a stack of frames.

Ray, take those. Thank you, Brother Graves. Just put 'em on a chair till we get these tables set up over here. Help me out here, Ray.

You need help, Rev? a young man preparing to leave yelled from across the now-almost empty room, empty except for folded tables stacked against the front wall beside a seven-foot-tall Christmas tree and a few stragglers preparing to leave.

Nah, Brother Talakai and I got this, he called back. You young'uns go on home and get all decked out for tonight. He turned to his secretary who was admiring her own and the youth group's handiwork.

Y'all outdid yourselves with the decorations, Sister Robinson. You might as well take off early too. See you back here 'round seven.

As the stragglers said their goodbyes and departed, Elijah got around to answering Ray's question. "We'll set up three along this wall. Help me here. Don't put 'em against the wall yet. Those pictures gotta be up behind 'em first. No, I'm not expecting a whole roomful tonight. Seems like only a handful of the young people around here are thinking 'bout graduations and weddings unless we throw a big party like tonight. Lord knows I can hardly fit this graduation hop in edgewise, what with all the homicides and suicides and funeral ceremonies I preach. Sister Robinson and I got together. We've been compiling gunshot-wound stats. We plan to present them at next week's city-council meeting. I didn't mean to exclude you from our meetings. It's just that you weren't here for the last buyback, what with Little Mandy's birth and all, and Sister Robinson and I know all the players. Just from the hardware and ammo turned in to me over the years—I showed you my closet full of everything from zip guns to shotguns and Uzi Pros—we're hoping to get enough to melt it all down and commission a sculpture for the entryway. At the rate we going, we may even build a sculpture for city hall as well. I'm just kidding you there, Ray.

Sister Lydia coming to the grad party? he asked, putting his hand on Ray's shoulder. We can use all the chaperones we can get. Or is she too tired from chasing Little Mandy around to cut a rug on the dance floor?

"She'll be here. Little Mandy, too, if you still allow toddlers at