Fiction - Week 3 - A Fiasco in a Restaurant.

This is a continuation from Week 2. 

All characters are fictional and bear no resemblance to any person, living or dead.

I wrote the original story around 1992. This version is updated and modified.

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Then it happened - VOOM! 

Roger and Steve vanished - their clothing left draped on their chairs while the thunder suddenly diminished. Suddenly, I was left alone at the table where, just a short time ago, there were four of us sitting.

A woman diner screamed and went into hysterics. I saw the panic-stricken manager and our waiter rush over to restrain her as she thrashed about, knocking over furniture and scattering food and crockery over the carpeted floor.

No! No! No! Nooooooo-! she screamed as I arose to lend a helping hand. 

Quick! A glass of cold water! I shouted, and another customer quickly gave it to me. I took it and sloshed it over her face. She calmed down and resumed her seat, and allowed herself to be consoled. She pointed to the empty table next to hers. The sight of clothing draped over the chairs and surrounding floor area testified to the sudden disappearance of a family of four - the husband, the wife, and their two children, one of them being the youngest daughter, who was earlier frightened to tears by Phil's tirade.

Hardly was the woman calmed when the waitress, who served our drinks, appeared from the kitchen, her face ashen. She stifled her own scream by covering her mouth with her hand. She surveyed the scene: two vacant tables, clothing hanging on the chairs and a diner recovering from hysteria.

THE ASSISTANT CHEF HAS VANISHED! She shouted. Leaving his clothing behind. MY GOD, WHAT'S HAPPENING?

I couldn't take any more. I went over to my own table and gathered Steve's and Roger's clothing. How they were draped across the chairs was startling. They were all left as if they were ready to clothe a manikin for the window. With Steve's clothing, the shirt with its burgundy tie rested on the chair backrest, the trousers on the seat, and the footwear on the floor in front of the chair. It was as if the body literally atomised, leaving the clothing undisturbed.

Roger's clothing was more of an untidy pile, but his T-shirt was on the seat, and his shorts were on the floor. Yet it was Steve's tie, still carefully knotted around his flattened shirt collar, that caused a cold sweat to run down my spine as I made for the exit, taking all the clothing with me.

The sporty red Ferrari was now under my custody until Steve's father was contacted, that is, if he's still around. I searched for the keys until I located them in Steve's left-hand trouser pocket. I then searched for Roger's wallet, hoping that it contained his home address. Fortunately, along with his house keys, he had a small book of bank cards that included his home address.

Once in the car, I coded his address on the sat-nav and drove out of the car park and onto the chaotic street.

The streets of Windsor were in turmoil. People were rushing around and panicking. The sight of clothing scattered along the sidewalk seemed to aggravate the commotion. There seemed to be plenty of men clutching the clothing left by their vanished wives, girlfriends, and children, and staring at the garments with wide, terrified eyes. But what I thought was the height of frightened panic was the sight of young mothers dashing out of their homes while screaming with hysterical fear of the disappearance of their babies and toddlers.

Cars, many without a driver, were scattered along the road as if suddenly abandoned there on the spot, while other drivers looked bewildered as they left their vehicles in the snarl-up. Just then, I felt my stomach muscles tighten as I regurgitated the curry I had eaten earlier.

Cars...were scattered across the road...

I had to wind through the back streets to get out of town. Several times I had to navigate the sidewalks to clear other cars obstructing the roads. In one street, a bus full of people but driverless was blocking the street entirely. I assumed that the black pile of the company's uniform on the driver's seat deterred any passengers from approaching the wheel, let alone reversing the vehicle or even releasing the door locking device to let themselves out. It was at that moment that one of the windows exploded as it was hit from the inside by a terrified passenger. Some of the glass shrapnel rained on my car bonnet.

Let the police rescue them! I muttered, as I reversed the car into a side turning to join the main road via another route.

Out on the open road, I had to drive carefully, for not only was it pitch dark, but I also had to clear several cars and a bicycle abandoned in the middle of the road. Despite the diversions, the sat-nav guided me towards Roger's house to tell his parents of their son's disappearance, should the delay in their son's arrival worry them.

While driving, I felt confused, bewildered. If Steve hadn't turned to this Jesus in the restaurant, would he still be with me now? If so, would Roger still have vanished? And why did only the Christians vanish? - IF we assume that this strange disappearance involved only Christians. Was it a global occurrence? Did they go somewhere? Or did they simply became non-existant? Where did they go? To Heaven? To another planet? Another galaxy even? To another dimension? Did Earth pass through a time warp? If so, then why were only some people affected? Questions, questions going around my head and torturing my spirit. Maybe the Bible is not a fabled book after all. If not, then it might contain the answers to this mystery.

I must get hold of a Bible if I can. In it, there may be a clue.

The sat-nav successfully brought Steve's car to the right house, which I remembered when we collected Roger. When I pulled up in front of it, I felt a gush of relief. Two cars were parked in the driveway, and the lounge light was on. They were in.

I ran from the car, rang the doorbell and waited. No answer. I knocked on the door with the heavy knocker. Still no answer. Then I banged hard on the door as my blood curdled in ultimate terror of the reality of what had happened. I had already transferred his house keys to my pocket when I left the diner. With them, I let myself in, only to find the house full of smoke and the television on. Thinking the worst, I dashed into the lounge where the smoke was most dense.

I found the ironing board erected. It was one of those old chipboard ones, probably passed down through the generations. The hot iron had smouldered through the cotton shirt, on which it rested, and was now blackening the chipboard base. I also saw the pile of clothing on the floor right next to the utility.

Immediately, I disconnected the power and opened all the windows to waft the smoke out. While I was doing so, I cried out, Mr Padula! Mrs Padula! Is anyone at home? But the empty house echoed my own words.

As I was in the front bedroom to open the windows, I stopped short to see something on the bedside cabinet. It was an open Bible, together with some notes scribbled on a loose writing pad. Apparently, there was a bedside Bible study earlier that day. I saw that it was open at 1 Corinthians 15, and on the margin was a coloured streak running alongside a passage, together with a reference marked in ballpoint. I picked up the Bible and read the passage emphasised by the coloured streak.

Listen, I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we shall be changed - in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed.

Quickly, I checked the ballpoint reference. It read, "1 Thess 4:13-18." Not knowing where "1 Thess" is, I turned to the contents list at the front of the book. No "1 Thess" appeared, but I did see, "1 Thessalonians...1186". I assumed this was the proper title of the book. I turned to page 1186 and found the title. A couple of pages on, I found the appropriate passage easily, as this too was marked by a coloured crayon streak. I was struck by what it said in verse 16:

For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ shall rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And we will be with the Lord for ever.

Caught up in the air...

I was astounded by what I've just read. It made sense! Both passages spoke of the "trumpet call of God". Could that have been the earsplitting thunder? The dead rising first. Could that have been what Steve saw, and mentioned the orbiting stars in the sky just before he vanished? Then the living caught up. Steve, Roger, and many others just disappeared in an instant. Why was I still here? Because I thought that Jesus was a myth, that's why!

It all sounded sensible. Yet, my thoughts conflicted. The greatest scientists, scholars, men of knowledge- yes, even church bishops and clergymen all believed that either Christ was mythical, or some distant figure who was executed, then forgotten, until some fishermen decided to take up a story of a resurrection to further their own credibility. Or rather, he never died, but fell unconscious, and woke up while still sealed in his tomb. He cried aloud to be heard, and the stone was rolled back, and he walked out, only to disappear to a foreign country.

According to my college mentality, the latter theory has become more popular, yet he still had followers who believed he actually rose from the dead. Yet, these academics, both in and out of the Church, must be right, or else they wouldn't be in such influential positions.

I left the Bible where I found it and crept downstairs to watch the television bulletin and find out more about the catastrophe.

It's a global catastrophe! announced the reporter. All the major cities are in a grip of panic and confusion. London, New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Paris, Rome, Madrid, even Moscow, Delhi, Hong Kong, Singapore, Sydney, Canberra, and Christchurch. Not to mention all the other towns and villages. Literally all around the world, from the United Kingdom to New Zealand. Even from the Antarctic stations, a few scientists from there have apparently vanished. In every case, they left their clothing behind, globally. Millions, literally millions of people have vanished so suddenly, as if atomised, leaving their clothing behind.

It is these discarded garments lying in the streets, homes, cars, and just about anywhere that are intensifying the feeling of consternation among those still here. Moreover, all those who have disappeared seemed to be fundamental Christians. If this is true, then the population of the faithful was much higher than recent estimates given.

This is Mike Taylor for the BBC Emergency News.

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To be Continued.