A strange change came over the Eldrich household during the next few weeks. Whenever the Thought Police plugged in, they didn’t hear any conversation, neither did they see anything out of the ordinary, except that the house had suddenly become neater and more like a home. Anita and Rich’s co-workers also began to notice a change around the two. During the Two-Minute Hate neither seemed to be really caught up in the frenzy. Rich became a more thoughtful person, trying to help those he saw, whereas before he minded his own business to the point of ignoring even his wife’s problems. Anita’s once harsh attitude had softened and if you spoke with either for even a short period of time you could see a fire in their eyes and sense a gentle power about all their actions. But aside from this their discussion topics worried the other Party members. They didn’t talk about the Party’s greatness anymore, just about the beauty of life and most of all about “God.” They never discussed it overtly; no, they were too cautious for that, and yet it was something about the way they mentioned “Him” that instantly made their comrades suspicious of their motives and mental stability.
Every night they would pray together and study before going to bed, and during this time they were often reminded that persecution was soon to come. Rich prayed for strength to stand against any tortures devised by their Lord’s enemies. Also, as time passed Rich and Anita slowly became aware of a growing love for the other. It grew daily as did their devotion to their new God and it also marked their actions and words. There still were fights now and then, but the split never lasted long, it always healed quickly as the one at fault made amends.
* * *
“Eldrich!” Rich leaned back in his seat to see a tall, thin man dressed in black overalls coming towards him.
“Ah, Kirkland,” Rich said with a warm smile. “How are you doing?” The man in black just grimaced at him and motioned Rich to follow him. Rich quickly rose and followed Kirkland out of his department of the Ministry of Truth. A few minutes and several flights of stairs later he was standing in Kirkland’s office. The Inner Party man sat down behind his expansive desk and looked at Rick for a long moment and then began to speak in an icy tone of voice.
“I have been hearing some rather disturbing things about you, Eldrich,” he said. “I wanted to check into them and put a stop to them before anything else happened.” He studied Rich for a long moment. “I hear you haven’t been really contributing to the general good of the Party. I even have observed you during the Two-Minute Hate. You don’t act on it. You just act as if it is good exercise and at the end you just sit calmly. How can you do that? It is impossible to break the hold of the Party over the individual!”
“Is that so?” Rich said with a half-smile. “I believe that many people have broken that hold at one time or another, some just from their own strength and others through a Power greater than their own. The power of hate, however, is another matter,” Rich continued. “Man can’t break that through his own power, because of his faulty nature that often feeds on hate to keep going.”
“Shaddap!” Kirkland suddenly yelled. “You don’t understand why you’re here. You aren’t here so we can psychoanalyze your ability to withstand hate. You are here so I can help you get back on track.” Kirkland calmed a bit. “Eldrich, you have gotten into something that is destroying your career and effectiveness with the Party. We are worried about you and want to help you come back to where you really belong.”
Yeah, right! Rich suddenly found himself thinking. It was him that got that promotion I deserved! He almost answered harshly to this man’s accusation, but something inside him whispered, What would Jesus do in this situation?
“My dear friend,” Rich said with a warm smile, “I already have found the place where I belong, and I am in it. Now, with your permission, I would like to return to my work.” Kirkland’s pale face reddened for a moment, but the dark man calmed himself.
“All right, Eldrich,” he said carefully, “you can return to your job, but let me warn you, Big Brother is watching you!” Rich just smiled and left the office.
* * *
“I think we’re about to get caught, Anita,” Rich said that evening as they were preparing for bed.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
“Kirkland called me into his office and warned me to return to the ‘right’ way.”
Anita laughed, her once plain face sparkling with joy and warmth. “But you have found the right way, luv, why go back?”
“There you have a point,” he said, putting his arms around her. “After I have found God would I ever not want to know him?” She just smiled and kissed him.
Crash! The door suddenly folded in on itself to reveal one of the black Party guards, his foot raised in a kick. “Get back and put your hands on your head!” he yelled. The couple complied instantly. Black-clad soldiers poured into the room, surrounding the two. The one that had kicked in the door raised his rifle butt and swung it towards Anita.
“No!” Rich threw himself in front of his wife, catching the vicious blow on his shoulder. Pain shot through it, making him stagger, but he stood tall in front of her.
“Get out of the way!” the soldier screamed with a curse. Rich just shook his head and remained in place, tears running down his checks from the pain in his shoulder. The rifle butt swung again, hitting him in the stomach. He doubled over for just a moment and straightened again in the same protective stance in front of her. The soldier raised his rifle butt again, this time to strike him in the face.
“Stop!” came a voice from the doorway. A man dressed in plain blue overalls stepped through the door. Rich knew him. He worked in the cubicle next to Rich’s and was plainly in charge of the operation. “Get them out of here,” he said jerking his head toward the door. A soldier grabbed each of Rich’s arms and almost carried him out of the room. Rich planted his feet down and turned his head toward Anita.
“Be strong in the Faith and in the power of His might!” he called. She just nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks as they dragged him from the apartment.
* * *
Rich groaned quietly as they kicked him into the room. He had been beaten severely and now they had tossed him into this room. Rich carefully pushed himself up with his good right arm and after a few minutes he was able to crawl to the small benches that lined the walls of the room. He pulled himself up on it and sat still. After a few minutes his blurry vision began to clear and he noticed that there was a large telescreen set in every wall, staring at him. After staring back at the one across from him for several minutes he looked down at himself. His overalls were torn and bloodied, and his right leg hung limply to the floor. He was quite sure that several of his ribs and his shoulder were broken, and he wondered if he would ever be able to get better again. But then he began thinking about Anita. He was worried about what had happened to her.
“Oh, God,” he said quietly, “protect her and strengthen her to stand against the torture she will endure.”
“Silence!” the telescreen bawled at him, but Rich didn’t obey. He prayed on for her, for his fellow inmates, for his captors, the Party, Washington D.C., and the rest of the world. As he prayed his pain slowly seemed to lessen, and by the time the door of the room opened again, his leg and arm were completely healed. Only his side seemed a bit tender. The soldiers tossed another figure into the room and slammed the door shut. Rich instantly bolted from his seat and knelt beside the wounded individual. He knew it was a woman from the long hair and the high-pitched moans she gave. He carefully turned her over and looked at her battered face. She seemed almost dead, but of course the guards wouldn’t kill her until after she confessed complete fealty to the system. He carefully wiped the blood from her mouth with his already bloodied handkerchief and waited for her to come around. He stood and sat against the wall again, head bowed and arms crossed, praying silently.
Finally, he heard a moan and looked to see that the girl had come around. And a girl she was: he didn’t figure her to be older than 20. He quickly came and knelt beside her.
“37412, Eldrich, R. Get back in your seat!” the telescreen screamed, but Rich didn’t hear. His heart was too full of compassion for the young woman to obey the cruel command. He carefully helped her to her feet and sat her down on the bench. No sooner had he done that than the door crashed open, and the soldiers burst in with their short cudgels. They began beating Rich mercilessly, but he didn’t make a noise, he simply endured, praying silently for those who beat him. Finally, one of them decided that it was enough and they left the room. Rich pushed himself up off the floor and stood uncertainly, collapsing on the bench right next to the girl, who was staring at him incredulously.
“Who are you?” she finally asked after a while.
“My name’s Rich,” he said with a smile. She noticed his eyes were clouded with pain, and yet he didn’t make a sound.
“What are you in for?” she inquired farther.
“For believing in God.” The answer was simple, but it shocked her.
“For believing in God?”
“That’s right,” Rich said, nodding.
“But that’s silly, there is no God!” she said after a moment.
“My wife told me that, too, but she changed her mind.” He paused for a moment, searching her brown eyes. “And you, what are you in for?”
“Well, I’d rather not talk about that,” she said uncomfortably.
“Okay,” he said and bowed his head again.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“I’m praying,” he said seriously. The girl seemed to think for a moment.
“Well, would you put in a word for me, too?”
“Of course,” Rich answered with a smile. The telescreen then came on yelling at them to shut up. They obliged, and Rich sat quietly for a long time, lips sometimes moving in silent prayer, sometimes still. Then suddenly he quoted a verse he had memorized.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”
“What does that mean?” the girl suddenly asked.
“It means that God will be with you no matter where you are and what trouble you are in, if you choose to believe in him,” Rich answered. The telescreen screamed for silence, but Rich ignored it.
“You see, God created this whole world. He created me and you, and those people sitting behind these screens. When He created the first man and woman, He made them perfect, but they disobeyed God and so we became what we are: twisted and evil individuals.”
“But the Party is trying to make amends, make us perfect,” the girl countered.
“Actually, my dear friend, the Party just wants more power to feed on. It cares nothing for the perfection of its people. All it wants is power and more power. Only God can make you perfect, through the gift of His Son.”
“God had a son? How’d He do that?” she asked.
“Oh, it’s not like you would have a son,” Rich said with a warm smile. “It’s more like, oh, a spiritual kinship. Jesus was God’s Son, and he came to earth to die for our sin.”
“What is sin?” the girl wanted to know.
“Sin is not doing what God wants you to,” Rich said, his hazel eyes full of sadness. “It hurts God to see us do such things and because of that we can’t go to be with Him when we die.”
“But isn’t death the end of all things?”
“No, death is not the end,” Rich said shaking his head. “Either you accept God and receive true Life and go to live with Him in Heaven, or you stay in Death and are thrown into a Lake of Fire. It is very painful there, you are constantly burning, and there is no way that you can leave. But most of all it is lonely.” He fell silent and the girl fidgeted uncomfortably.
“I will tell you why I’m in here,” she said after a long pause. “It is because I fell in love and followed my heart.” She looked at the floor. “I now am here because of crimethink and there is no way that I can get out except for giving up and becoming a complete Party member. But I don’t want to,” she said, tears sliding down her white cheeks, “I want to be free.”
“With Jesus you can,” Rich said, putting his arm around her.
“Really?” she asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her eyes. Rich nodded and asked if she would pray with him. She nodded and the two knelt under the angry eyes of the telescreen. There in the depths of the Ministry of Love another soul was won back from the darkened path. As they finished praying the door burst open and the guards exploded in, bludgeoning the two prisoners. Rich was then yanked to his feet and dragged from the room, praising God that this girl’s soul had been saved and praying that she would remain strong in her new Faith.
* * *
He lay on a strange table on his back with his wrist, ankles, neck, and waist strapped tightly to it. He couldn’t do anything but look at the ceiling, and only from the corners of his eyes could he see two phantoms hovering around the table. One was slightly stooped and dressed in a white lab coat. The other one was tall and thin, dressed in the black of the Inner Party. The man in black stepped up to the table and spoke to Rich.
“Well, Eldrich,” he said, “I warned you to watch yourself and now look at what has happened. You are trussed up here and have to go through this painful ordeal.”
Rich smiled. “Kirkland, you really don’t care what happens to me as long as you can have more power. That’s what this is all about. I have found a power so much greater that it threatens the stranglehold of the Party and its doctrine over this world.” The Inner Party member’s face contorted with rage, and he suddenly yanked a lever beside the table. Pain shot through Rich. It felt as if someone was ripping out his spine and twisting his arms off. It was so great he couldn’t make a sound. Then it stopped.
“You see, Eldrich, I told you you would go through a lot of pain,” Kirkland said with a cruel smile. “Now let’s start with the basics.” He began pacing back and forth in the room. “First of all, you must understand that there is no ‘God.’ It was just a myth thought up by the people previous generations before we enlightened them. This ‘God’ of yours was just as much a fairy tale as Jupiter, Mars, or Venus of the Romans. None of these exist and neither does your ‘God.’” A moan came from Rich’s lips.
“What did you say?” Kirkland demanded.
“I cannot… I … will … not … recant!” Rich panted. Kirkland spun the dial and yanked the lever again. A second time Rich experienced the pain this time greater.
“I will not recant!” he screamed through the haze of pain. Kirkland shut off the device and signaled his white-coated assistant. The man brought a helmet-like device over and placed it on Rich’s head.
“Close your mouth,” Kirkland ordered calmly. Rich felt a pop in his head as suddenly a big hole opened in his mental fabric. What is going on? God, help me! He tried to remember some of the scripture he had memorized as Kirkland began his monologue about God being a myth again. Just one fragment came to Rich’s mind: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, ...”
Rich’s lips began to move, repeating the fragment. Slowly the rest of it came back: “your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us today our daily bread and forgive us our debts, as we have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one, for yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.”
As he prayed this prayer the mental gap closed and not one word Kirkland said had effect on him.
“So,” Kirkland finally asked, “is there a God?”
“Yes, there is, friend,” Rich said, hazel eyes sparkling. “And he loves you deeply.” Kirkland’s mouth dropped open.
“Get him out of here,” he screamed. The bonds loosened and several black guards entered the room, quickly dragging Rich out of the interrogation room.