Chapter One Excerpt
Carter's Vision: An America with No Christianity
[Note: Forcefully Advancing is not a novel, but the first and last chapters are written as a fictitious story to illustrate the plight of America if things continue on their present course.]
Light—blazing, white light—came from every direction, surrounding me, blinding me. I was paralyzed instantly, frozen in place like a statue. What just happened? I wondered. Where am—? But before I could finish the question, a horn blared just in front of me, and my instincts took over. Move! my mind cried—so I did, diving as hard as I could to my left, toward the curb. I stood to watch a clean, black Mercedes dart into the night, my hair disheveled, course gravel layering my palms. I brushed them on my pants. Close, I thought. Too close.
Where am I? I pondered, finishing my thought from a microsecond before. A moment ago I was… Well, I think I was at home. Was I in bed or working in the garage? I can’t remember.
So I walked.
Judging from the line of buildings just in front of me, I was in a small town somewhere. They were short, brick buildings, no more than two or three stories tall. I was on one end of the procession moving toward them. It was late fall; the smell of dry leaves and crisp evening air confirmed it. There’s something familiar about this place, I thought. As I walked, I noticed the year “1939” carved into a cornerstone of one the buildings. But this isn’t 1939, or even what I would call the present. I think this is the future.
But I kept walking.
I passed an old service station. A Chevy blazer, probably forty years old, sat in the parking lot with the hood propped open. But nobody was working on it; it just sat there, silently, like an old man on a porch. Then I noticed the railroad tracks to my right. Slightly above street level, they ran parallel to the line of buildings. In fact, there were no buildings at all on the right side, just the tracks. Several crossings dotted its length for the next several blocks, like rungs on a ladder. I heard the thump-thump as cars crossed.
Look at all the people, I thought. They don’t look like my kind of people; this isn’t like any small town I’ve ever seen. Apprehension hit me without my even realizing it. This place gives me the creeps. But I kept going. There was something for me to see here—I could feel it—something for me to learn.
The sidewalk was brighter now. Street lamps poured their light on glass windows, tall, wooden doors, and pedestrians huddling in shadows. As I passed the first brick building, I realized how spiritually dark this place really was. A faceless guy sitting cross-legged with a needle falling from his arm, an old man leaning against a wall, talking to himself and shaking uncontrollably, a woman dressed in sleazy clothing and thick, cheap makeup leaning into a car window—each told me that God was not to be found in this place.
I don’t like this. I’m a Christian. I shouldn’t even be here. Turn around, call someone, and get out of here, I ordered myself.
Then he spoke to me. I didn’t even see him coming, but suddenly he was staring me right in the face. “Hey,” he said, breathing alcohol on my skin. “How ‘bout you loan me a buck?”
“I—I don’t have any money,” I responded. He was thin, black, looked to be sixty, skinny with a rough, sunken face and blood shot eyes, scruffy white beard. Over camouflage overalls, he donned a thick, winter coat.
“Oh, come on, now. I know you got money. Help me out, man.” He stumbled, almost falling. I reached out to steady him.
“No, really, I don’t have anything, man.” At first he scared me, but then I realized he was just a harmless old man with some sad story. Maybe he’s somebody’s dad or grandpa; he raised his kids and then something terrible happened; he didn’t start on the streets but was driven there by life’s unfortunate circumstances. A pain welled up from inside.
“What’s your name? Do you live around here?” I offered.
“I’m Ed. No, I don’t live here. I got me a condo down at the beach.” With that he laughed and turned away, back into his world of shadows.
I slowed to watch him and then continued on my way.
Eventually, I came to a street crossing. Apparently I was on Center Street. Center was intersected by several smaller side streets. This one was Clay.
At the intersection I noticed two signs in the ground just before the sidewalk ended, the kind real estate agents use to get you to their open house, rectangular with thin, metal rods that stick in the ground. When I read the words, I did a double take. One was purple with pink, reflective letters: Girls—See Before You Buy. The other was equally as perverse, but with a plain, white background and black, square letters: Gay Love—Cheap and Discreet. My stomach curled. Oh, my, you can’t be serious. What kind of place is this?
There was no way I was going down that street. I wouldn’t dream of dishonoring God or Eileen by being seen in such a place. But then I heard a voice, as mysterious as anything I had experienced thus far. The voice said simply, “Go.” I don’t know if it was audible or just inside my head. I’m thirty-eight years old and have never heard God speak to me in a voice before—and perhaps I never will again—but tonight I was sure. This voice was God’s.
So I turned left and walked.
Within a few seconds, I entered the most degenerate strip of ground I had ever seen. As before, there were people everywhere, walking up and down the sidewalks: men in business suits and cardigans smoking cigars, couples leaning against the walls kissing, young men in dark trench coats walking in ominous packs. Then the women in the windows appeared. Dressed in sordid lingerie, they danced behind glass windows, prostitutes on display like manikins in a department store, their bodies unreachable, yet their power all around. With the simple motion of a finger, they called in their prey like a puppet on a string.
I can’t believe my eyes. Tell me this is some big city, some foreign land! Oh, God, what is the meaning of this? I pleaded. I’ve got to get past this; I feel sick. I tucked my head and pushed through the crowd. Finally, after a few blocks, I could breathe again.
