Destination Eden
By Jim Payton
()
About this ebook
After the death of a student at an Auckland school over a creation verses evolution disagreement a teacher at the school enters into a wager with another teacher that she can prove creation. The story follows her efforts to locate the biblical Garden of Eden and thereby prove creation rather than evolution.
Jim Payton
My wife and I live in Masterton, New Zealand, enjoying our retirement. Our five children have long left home and have provided us with 12 Grand children. I have lived a life of varied occupations ranging from an Avionics Fitter in the Royal New Zealand Air force, a Detective in the New Zealand Police, a Private Investigator and far too many other jobs. Retirement allows me to spend more time writing, when my wife's list of 'jobs to do' have been attended to.
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Destination Eden - Jim Payton
DESTINATION EDEN
by
Jim Payton
A Novel
Published by Jim Payton
Copyright 2014 Jim Payton
Smashwords Edition Licence Notes
Thank you for downloading this eBook. The eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.
If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For my wife Yvonne with love as always
Table of Contents
Death
Turkey
Joan of Arc
Loneliness
Signposts
The Valley
The Return
Epilogue
The End
About Jim Payton
Connect with Jim Payton
Blog
Other books by Jim Payton
DEATH
Chapter1
Jesse Solomani. Sit down and shut up this instant
The shrillness and volume of the voice stopped the hubbub present in the year ten classroom. It was the period before lunch on a Thursday. The voice belonged to Joe Palmer: to be precise, Joseph Zechariah Palmer, B.A., M.Sc., a science teacher at Shackelton College in Auckland, New Zealand. His directions were aimed at one of the year ten students, Jesse Solomani.
Written in bold letters on the white board at the front of the classroom, were the words: Evolution – Natural Selection.
Solomani was a quiet and studious boy who until now had worked consistently hard at achieving excellent results. His argument with Palmer had come out of left field, as far as Palmer was concerned. He, Palmer, was taking the students through the Theory of Evolution based upon the Darwinian Theory originally espoused by Charles Darwin in his book, Origin of the Species, and enlarged upon by a myriad of followers. Palmer had pointed out that life, like the earth, was billions of years old. At that stage, Solomani had held up his hand, and when Joe Palmer pointed at him, Solomani had stood and said, You are wrong Sir
.
For a moment, Palmer had been taken aback. He was not the only one. The entire classroom had fallen silent. Palmer was known to not suffer fools lightly, and for someone to tell him he was wrong was not going to bode well for that someone.
Oh, I see,
nodded Palmer. "I suppose I must bow to your superior knowledge Solomani. After all, you are what . . . 16 years old and still at College? I am 30 years of age with two degrees. Yes indeed, you really trump me.
Where am I wrong Solomani?
At billions of years Sir,
replied Solomani.
Where, at billions of years Solomani?
Everywhere at billions of years Sir. The earth is only thousands of years old. My Dad told me that whenever I hear the words 'billions of years old' I will know a lie is being told.
Are you calling me a liar Solomani?
Yes, I think I am Sir.
That was when the hubbub had started, and was when Palmer issued his directive to Solomani. Solomani sat. Palmer surveyed the class. It was a mixture of boys and girls from the middle class suburb of Mt Albert. The ethnic mix favoured the European races and the academic ability of the school tended towards the above average. Until now, Palmer had always assumed Solomani to be a follower. He was unaware of his sporting and leadership roles outside school. Solomani's questioning left Palmer puzzled.
Palmer walked up to Solomani’s desk and picked up the notepad upon it. The page was headed Evolution – Natural Selection, but written below that were the words: false assumption.
"So you dare to disagree with me do you Solomani? Let me point out to you that while you may relate to the name you do not have the Wisdom of Solomon.
"Now, the examination at the end of the year will be based upon what is in the text book that is provided by the school. What is in that textbook is law, as far as Scientists worldwide are concerned.
It is absolute nonsense, Solomani, to presume that you and your father know more than those of us who have studied science for years. What is it your father does for a job?
He works for Elders Sir.
Ah, yes. Elders! So, he handles farm supplies does he?
Yes Sir.
"Listen to me Solomani, and listen very carefully. You, your father, your family and anyone else who believes that this planet, solar system, universe, galaxy and humankind came into being in thousands, and not millions of years are idiots. Do you understand Solomani, idiots.
Tell me son, where does your Dad get those ideas from? The Bible?
Yes Sir and it’s not only Dad, but the Pastor at Church and other people at Church also.
The Bible! I might have known. A bunch of unsubstantiated stories written by some desert nomads! You know what really gets me Solomani?
No Sir.
The belief that someone, three or four thousand years ago, living in a tent in the middle of a desert, could know more than we do now. That is what gets me.
So there is no God, Sir?
one of the children in the class asked.
Joe Palmer returned to the front of the classroom. He sat with one hip on the desk and let his gaze roam over the students.
How many of you go to Church, or have parents who go to Church?
he asked.
About six children put up their hands.
How about Grand parents?
Another five or six children put up their hands. Palmer nodded his head.
The belief in a Creator God is an aged concept, or way of thinking if you like,
continued Palmer. "The world now requires proof of what we believe. We humans are intelligent. We will become even more intelligent as civilization gets older. While you will find it hard to believe, we did not always have television, mobile telephones or even motor vehicles. They are the sort of thing that proves evolution. Your Grand parents, Great Grand parents and all before them, lived without electricity and many of the things that we now take for granted. As man has evolved, he has been able to understand more about science and the world around himself. As a result, he has been able to improve his lot.
"When dinosaurs roamed the earth two hundred million years ago, Solomani, man was very primitive. Not even human really. Neanderthal man, our ancestors Solomani, lived five hundred thousand years ago.
When you get home Solomani you tell your father, from me, that he is the liar.
Spontaneously the class turned upon Jesse Solomani and commenced systematically chanting,
Jesses’ Dad’s a liar. Jesses’ Dad’s a liar.
Joe Palmer did nothing to stop it. He watched as Solomani, tears running down his face, picked up his books and left the room.
When the students had calmed down, Palmer resumed the lesson until the lunchtime bell rang.
Chapter 2
In the staff room, Palmer made himself a cup of coffee and sat down at a table with three other teachers. He opened his lunch box and proceeded to eat his sandwiches. As he munched, he related his confrontation with Jesse Solomani. At the conclusion of it Janet Winter said:
I have always found Jesse to be a quiet but clever boy. As a matter of fact I would be pushed to recall him ever answering back to anyone, let alone me.
I would have to agree,
nodded Peter Jones. Most unusual! I wonder of everything is all right at home? You never know what goes on behind closed doors.
Do you think you might have been a bit hard on him,
asked Brad Dudley? He appears to be quite a sensitive child you know.
You can never be too hard Brad,
retorted Palmer. Once you let them get the upper hand you are done for. Anyway, at the end of the day, we teach evolution, and evolution is what they will be examined upon. Christ, what doubt is there. Pun intended. Science has proved evolution. Let us face it, did the universe and the galaxies get there as a result of The Big Bang, or did some unknown ‘thing’ reach out its hand and put them there? Come on now.
There is some opposition to evolution these days Joe’
pointed out Janet Winter. Intelligent Design, or a Young Earth, has its supporters.
Absolute rubbish,
countered Palmer. It is you ‘Goody Two Shoes’ who are ruining the world. A fact is a fact. Christ, next you will be saying that Noah’s flood was worldwide and not just a local event. Come on, let us be real.
Janet turned back to Peter Jones.
You have been known to go to Church. Do you believe God made everything?
Well it is more Diane than me,
pointed out Jones referring to his wife. "While I know there are a few die-hards who believe the Bible's every word is sacred and direct from God, I think the majority of Church-goers have a different view. Let us face it, the Bible, particularly the early books like Genesis, come from an oral tradition. You can only imagine how many mistakes were made reducing oral to written. On top of that, you have got all the copying and translations that have occurred over the years. God would have had to be a busy man, or woman, to keep correcting everybody’s bias and mistakes.
No, I think most Church-goers these days believe that the Bible was inspired by God, but that would be as close as they would go. Research indicates that most Church-goers believe in evolution and that the seven days referred to in the Genesis version of creation probably relates to a period of thousands of years, or even millions of years.
Still rubbish,
grumbled Palmer. Show me the proof, that is what I say, show me the proof. Science is the new religion. It is something you can rely on. It has a solid foundation.
The end of lunch bell rang and the teachers washed their cups, put them back on their pegs, and headed out to do battle with their students.
Chapter 3
The following day Jesse Solomani did not appear at school. The normal procedure, if a student did not attend school, was to telephone the child’s parents, but in the case of Jesse Solomani, they did not do that this time because his departure the previous day was the talk of the school. The consensus was that his parents would be keeping him at home.
At about 3 pm. a Police patrol car arrived at Shakleton College. A uniformed Sergeant and Constable went into the Administrative offices. Following a short conversation with Mr. Jackson, the Principal, Mr. Joseph Palmer was sent for. Palmer walked into Jackson’s office. He found Jackson sitting behind his desk and two Policemen to one side of it.
What’s this,
he asked Mr. Jackson. Is there a problem?
I don’t think so,
reassured Mr. Jackson. It is just that these two officers would like a word with you.
With me?
asked Palmer turning towards the Policemen.
The Sergeant stood up.
Mr. Palmer, I am Sergeant Johns and this is Constable Nix. We would like to have a word with you concerning Jesse Solomani.
Palmer sat down on an empty chair, and with a questioning look at his Principal said, Of course. How can I help? He’s not in any trouble is he? Like, he’s such a quiet thing normally that I just cannot see him causing you people any problems.
He is dead Mr. Palmer,
said Sergeant Johns resuming his seat.
Dead? What do you mean dead? He was here yesterday,
said Palmer.
He killed himself Sir,
said Constable Nix. Hanged himself in his parent's garage.
Whatever for?
asked Palmer. I mean, why? When did this happen?
This morning,
said Constable Nix. As far as his parents were concerned he had left for school. That was at about 7.45am. At 9am. Mr. Solomani went to get the car out of the garage and found his son hanging from a rafter.
Oh my dear God,
said Palmer feeling quite sick and faint. Why? Do you know why? Like, did he not tell anyone? No of course not. What an idiot thing to say. You don’t tell anyone when you are going to kill yourself do you?
He did leave a note Sir,
said Sergeant Johns. They don’t always but this kid did. It’s always a little sad when kids do it but they have so many pressures upon them these days. Not like in my time.
What did the note say?
asked Palmer, That is if you are allowed to say.
Oh, yes we can tell you,
nodded the Sergeant. Just before that though, we understand he got a little upset over something that happened in your class yesterday afternoon. Would you care to tell us about that Sir?
My God, gasped Palmer,
Don't tell me he killed himself over that."
Just tell us what happened please Sir,
repeated the Sergeant.
Well, very little Sergeant,
said a shaken Joe Palmer. We, that is, the class, were looking at evolution. I was explaining how life had evolved over millions of years from a single cell to what we have today. Solomon took exception to what I was saying and called me a liar. I pointed out certain scientific facts to him. The class agreed with me and let Solomani know it. He was obviously upset and left the class. I haven't seen him since.
And do you think he would have been upset enough with you to kill himself?
asked Johns.
I doubt it. He was just reiterating what he had been told by his parents and Church. We get that all the time from Church people. If anything, he was probably terrified of his father. Once he discovered the truth of evolution he would have confronted his father and was probably scared of that.
And what was Solomani's belief that it differed from yours?
queried Nix.
He believed something that a bunch of desert nomads believed thousands of years ago; that God made all that we are, and have, in seven days. Can you believe that in the face of all the scientific data? Let's face it, I have an M.A. and a Master of Science degree. They do not come off the back of a cereal packet. Solomani has, I'm sorry, learnt his from a discredited book and a labourer father.
Have you ever met Mr. Solomani?
asked Nix.
Not so as to become involved in a conversation,
replied Palmer. I know the type though. All black and white. No grey. Bigoted.
From personal experience I take it?
queried Nix.
How very perceptive of you Mr. Nix,
acknowledged Palmer. Yes, from personal experience. I was brought up in such an atmosphere; an overbearing father, a submissive mother, Church, Church and more Church. Do not think. Do, do, and do. It was not until I was at university that I was able to expand my mind, and realise my possibilities. Indeed, Mr. Nix, from personal experience.
And you don't believe your 'correction' of Jesse Solomani would have upset him enough for him to take his own life?
I doubt it. Even if it did then it is no fault of mine. I would place any external blame fairly and squarely upon the father. Solomani was a bright boy and his bigoted father would probably rather a dead child than one he would consider a blasphemer.
Did you ever feel, as a child, that suicide would have been a way out of your father's dominance?
asked Johns.
Never,
stated Palmer. Never crossed my mind.
He stood up. Now, if you will excuse me, I have students to attend too. Good day Gentlemen.
Do you no longer want to know what young Solomani's note said?
asked Sergeant Johns.
Palmer sat down.
I had forgotten I'm sorry. Of course. It had slipped my mind, what with the shock of the suicide and what I can only take as questions from you suggesting that I was somehow to blame.
Sergeant Johns turned to his Constable and nodded. Nix opened his notebook and commenced reading, glancing up at Palmer from time to time.
The note said; 'Don't worry Mum and Dad, I love you both. I am sorry to upset you but I need to go to our Lord. Mr. Palmer is wrong. I will know this by the time you find me. Pray for him, and my heavenly father and I will touch him. Love you heaps, Jess.'
A silence stretched out as Nix closed his notebook. Palmer's face lost all colour.
I see,
he eventually said, If that is all, then good day once again.
He stood up and left the room.
Chapter 4
By the time Janet Winter got to the cemetery, the coffin was already on the strops and partly lowered into the grave. The pile of earth to cover the coffin was discreetly off to one side, and the edges of the grave covered with green faux grass.
The Church service had been held in a Samoan Church. The majority of it had been spoken in the Samoan language. Out of courtesy, a brief outline of what was being said showed in English on a large screen. Most Samoans retained a strong religious faith, even after they had left their home islands and settled in New Zealand. Their singing came close to lifting the roof off the Church building. It was an impressive building. While not the size of American Football Stadium Mega Churches, it could hold up to 400 people once the various sliding walls were open. Even so, the numbers attending Jesse Solomon's funeral were so large, the service had to be broadcast on speakers and a screen, outside the building. In contrast to the mostly casual clothes worn by those of European descent, the Samoans were in their 'Sunday best' dressed in mainly white.
There were many tears. The eulogies and stories were many and often long. Samoans had adapted many European church habits, and now celebrated the deceased's life. While not able to understand much of what was being said, Janet was left in no doubt what a valued member of the Church and the Samoan community Jesse had been; from Sunday school teacher to Bible class leader to sport and community service, he had been an enthusiastic, although quiet, member. He had lead by example rather than word.
Janet had sat at the Church with those teachers attending from Shakleton College: The Principal, Vice Principal, and others who had taught or interacted with Jesse. Also in attendance were various dignitaries', Police, and sporting heroes. It appeared to Janet that outside school Jesse had been regarded as a great leader with an almost God like status. There was no doubt that he had been intended as a future leader in the Samoan community, if not New Zealand and the world. His selflessness was legendary. It appeared that while Jesse's Dad worked in what some would regard as a lowly occupation, he was a Matai, or of the Chiefly class.
In contrast to the European