A year later, Rebecca graduated with a Bachelor's in Writing and Andrew an Associate's in Finances. The last semester was a dismal affair for he could sense their friendship was drawing to a close. They no longer studied together and there was no time to read aloud to each other because, according to Jonathan, most books were inspired by Satan, planting diabolical thoughts into the minds of God's children. They no longer had time for such meaningless books as Jane Eyre, Sense and Sensibility or David Copperfield. Now they were reading real books--The Apostolic Quest, Crusaders of the Last Days, The Mark of the Beast and The Whore of Babylon Revealed--the books that would survive the fires of God's judgement. They shared lunch only twice a week and one day, Jonathan whistled and looked daggers at her. She left the bench immediately and from then on, Andrew took his meals alone. Once, he tried to invite her to an orchestral performance in a desperate attempt to revive the relationship. Although he made it clear, Jonathan could come as well, she shook her head saying she was too busy. A group of houses were being built on the plot of land Jonathan had rented and he needed her more than ever. 

 The graduation ceremony was lovely with it's ribbons, flowers, choir and musicians and the feast that followed was a sumptuous affair. Andrew took several pictures with Rebecca and danced with her when Jonathan was not around. Deep down, he felt a little sad for his intuition told him this would be the swansong of their friendship so he was determined to relish every moment as long as he could. He tried to convince himself, it was all for the best. If Rebecca was truly meant to become Jonathan's wife, every other man must be kept at arm's length. 

 Shortly afterwards, the construction of the commune was complete, and the group was ready to settle into their new home. 

 The Franklin Mountains were a strange and lonely land. Long slopes of dusty gray cliffs seemed to recede into the heavens. There were no trees and few bushes. Wisps of grass waved their long wilting leaves piteously through the wind that howled with an unearthly sound. Whirlwinds, thick with dust moved with fiendish velocity, devouring anything unfortunate enough to cross their path. Squirrels peeped cautiously from their holes, venturing little by little, always watchful lest a viper should be lurking nearby. They gathered what little they could but they dared not linger. It was here, the Franklin Community of Prayer stood.

 There were four adobes with wooden roofs and white walls made of clay. The first two were dormitories. Between them sat a large silver bell, used to announce the beginning of the day and summon the disciples to service. Beside the porch were some creosote bushes surrounded by a bed of verbena and primroses, lovingly cared for by Rebecca to give the settlement a more welcoming appearance. The third building lay behind in a long strip. It was divided into three rooms--a kitchen, fellowship hall and sanctuary. But the fourth was a cottage set apart from the others. This was where Jonathan lived. A member was forbidden to enter unless he called for him. No one felt the desire to disregard the order, for there was something ominous about the distance and the way it loomed before them in that vast open wasteland, especially at night. One might almost say that if there were a ghost upon the premises, that would be it's haunt. 

 Jonathan demanded his followers find jobs and place all their money in a single account controlled by him, so the demands of the rent and property tax would always be met. Personally, Andrew thought it strange that Jonathan himself did no work, but he dared not complain. He was, after all, an end-times apostle called by God.

 Although Andrew had always been possessed by a strong sense of diligence, he was weary from the exhaustive load of classes, term after term. And since most of the disciples were already employed, there was no need for him to search for a situation just yet. He decided to rest for half the year and devote himself to the landscapes, bouquets and portraits he had always wanted to paint. 

 He had a custom of rising two hours before the bell was sounded to walk through the mountains. He would take a series of pictures and choose the best three for his compositions. Although he was grateful to the group for giving him a home, it was here in the quiet of the dawn, he could reflect on the course of his life. Jonathan believed it was wrong to be melancholy and withdrawn--true worship was about being vivacious and charismatic, spending every waking moment with the brotherhood for protection against the enemy. But Andrew found he could honor God just as well in being alone with his thoughts, thanking him for his blessings and delighting in the wonders of his creation.

 One morning, on his way back from a walk, he discovered he was not the only early riser. It was Cory, the shy and awkward youth who joined the same day as Andrew, who passed by on his way to the belfry. He did not observe Andrew. 

 "Cory, what business summons you at such an early hour?"

 It was Jonathan. 

 "Time to ring the bell." said Cory. 

 "You need no longer toll that bell. That is a task for novices. You are worthy of leadership." 

 "Really?" 

 Jonathan drew closer to Cory. As he spoke, Cory's eyes shone bright. 

 "I have faith in you. The little candle that resides within your soul has grown so bright in so short a time. I knew from the moment I saw you, there was a calling in your heart to be with me. But this is only the beginning. There is so much more."

 He touched Cory's cheek and gently combed a loose strand of hair, back in place. Cory smiled but there was something in his face, Andrew did not like that spoke of intense adoration and worship rather than a modicum of pleasure derived from a sincere compliment.

 "Will you oversee the activities of the men's house?" said Jonathan, handing him a clipboard. "I want to make sure they're fulfilling their duties in a timely manner."

 "Oh yes." said Cory, ecstatically. "Thank you." 

 No sooner had he left then Rebecca emerged from the women's house. She was wearing a blue uniform and looked very excited.

 "Good morning." she called. 

 Jonathan colored as she approached him. He nodded stiffly.

 "Do I look like a nurse?" she asked, with a beaming smile. "Well I am! I got the job! Isn't it wonderful?" 

 She ran to him with open arms. 

 "No!" he said. "We mustn't."

 There was a sharpness in his voice that quelled her spirits. He had never spoken to her in that manner. 

 "What's wrong?" she asked.

 "Nothing...It's just...we mustn't forget, our relationship is strictly of a spiritual nature."

 "Oh yes...I had forgotten." 

 She bowed her head. Jonathan took her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze. 

 "There now...Don't be too hard on yourself. The flesh is weak but the spirit is strong."

 "But...wasn't the flesh also given to us by God?" 

 "It has it's place but we must all bow to a higher love." 

 "Of course." she muttered.

 "Rebecca, do I love you?...Well, do I?" 

 "Yes...It's just that..." "What...?"

 "Things don't seem as close as they were. You seemed so closed off sometimes, as though there exists a part of yourself I can never be privy to."

 "What do you mean?" said Jonathan nervously. 

 "Is there someone else?"

 "What?" exclaimed Jonathan with a laugh. "Of course not." 

 "If there is, I'm perfectly willing to step back. I know I'm not everything a wife should be. I just want you to be happy, whatever you decide." 

 "You've been listening to the voices of fear and confusion. But God is not the author of fear and confusion. He is the author and perfecter of our faith. And that's what you need--faith that we are meant to be together as the vision foretold." 

 Rebecca smiled. 

 "When will we be married?"

 "I'm not sure. I'm still waiting for a sign." 

 "Isn't it possible God could have revealed his will through the course of events? Our ministry is thriving, and you have a house set apart from the others...could we have a baby next year?"

 Jonathan was silent. Rebecca's lower lip trembled. She could give up writing and teaching for him, but not this. 

 Finally, he said with a great effort. "I'll think on it." 

 She sighed and threw her arms around him. This time, he accepted her embrace. "Oh, I love you Jonathan." she cooed, pressing her head against his breast. "Everything you do is so special."