Chloe (25 page)

Barabbas was released.

Pilate asked the people what they would have him do with
Jesus. And the people responded, in a symphony of senseless hatred, to crucify
him. Pilate did not want to do that and refused, saying he would chastise him
instead.

To appease the crowd, Pilate had Jesus, who was guilty of no
wrong, severely punished. He was beaten and whipped within an inch of his life.
Several days later, Pilate brought Jesus before the priests and crowd once
again to release him. Maddened by unseen evil forces, the people cried for more
justice, unsatisfied. The devil wanted Jesus put down. He was a great threat.

And Pilate had no choice but to give the crazed, blood
thirsty masses what they wanted.

Surely, crucifixion was one of the worst punishments of
ancient times. It involved being nailed to a wooden stake and forced to hang by
the hands until the body slowly crushed itself from the inside. The victim did
not die from starvation or pain or loss of blood, but from suffocation. In due
time, the muscles would lose the ability to support the body and the chest
cavity would collapse.

It was slow, excruciating, and horrible.

To make a mockery of Jesus, the people had a crown of thorns
placed upon his head, hailing him on the way to his execution as the King of
the Jews. But never once did Jesus complain, curse them, or struggle against
his captors. Because he knew, and he had known his whole life, that this was
the reason he was born.

This was his purpose. This was his duty.

He came to die so that man may live, to take up all the sins
of the world on his shoulders as surely as he bore his own cross to the place
where he would be killed. He would pay the penalty in our place—someone
perfect, slain in a sinners stead. And in so doing, he would wipe the slate of
sin and filth clean, acting as a veil, a lens, through which God could look and
see people worthy of heaven. He came to open the door for all who would
believe.

No one comes to the Father, to God, except through Jesus. No
one will ever be good enough for heaven. It is physically impossible for
humans. But through Jesus, any can come, just by the simple act of faith. Only
through him can men dwell in eternal Paradise after death with their Creator.

Any can come, but the way is narrow.

The story does not end with his death though. Where would be
the hope in a story that ended in death?

Chloe knows that three days later, the tomb, given to Jesus’
body by Joseph of Arimathea, was found empty. Jesus appeared to his disciples,
alive, with the scars from the nail holes still plain in his hands and feet, as
proof. He told them to go out into the world and spread the good news and the
Christian faith.

That was their duty, their purpose.

It was not an easy one though. The majority of the disciples
met horrible deaths like Jesus, aside from John, who was spared to write the
book of Revelations. A few months after his resurrection, Jesus left his
disciples, departing and ascending into heaven—a living God who still reigns
today, looking to save, to comfort, and to forgive.

All that being said, Chloe wants to capture aspects of the
story that most relate to contemporary culture and troubles.

Things like Judas’ betrayal and the avarice, contempt, and
jealousy of the priests.

Things like Mary’s teen pregnancy, the disappointment of her
family, and Joseph taking the high road to be with her regardless, sticking
around as a good example to all men.

Things like mob mentality, and wrongful persecution.

Things like the trials of being a leader and having a solid
foundation for what you believe in, no matter what hardships may come your way.

Things like the need for acceptance and forgiveness and
love.

The directors and producers share her vision, of which she
could not be more thankful.

They take it into account when adjusting dialogue sequences.
Chloe wants to portray Jesus as approachable, not some untouchable deity. She
does not want him haloed in ethereal light or presented like some floating
specter. Jesus was fully man and fully God. He must be depicted as divinity
within the imperfect shell of a man.

Darker skinned, as was regionally correct. Dark haired.
Sometimes dirty.

The disciples are capable, and often found guilty, of many
faults. They were hardly perfect people and easy for her to draw connections
with. Very relatable. Even Peter, who was considered to be Jesus’ rock, cracks
at one point. But all those tribulations were meant to mold and shape them into
what they would become. And Jesus loved them no less for each mistake. If
anything, he loved them more.

Problems come to everyone, and sometimes they seem
insurmountable. But Chloe wants to present the idea of leaning on Jesus in
those times. She wants people to know, namely in the highly individualistic
American culture, that it is okay to ask for help, to seek assistance.

She had to learn that the hard way.

Chloe, standing in the kitchen of her condo, takes a quiet
moment to marvel at how far she has come over a bite of mint chocolate chip ice
cream.

As nerve wrecking as it was to work in Hollywood’s shadow
before, she is much more comfortable with it and confident with herself now.
The director, Frank Berg, was very easy to talk to. The actors were just as
agreeable on set as they were offset. Chloe got to witness several of them
becoming saved as a result of working on this film.

Strange things happened during production as well though,
things no one could ignore or explain. Hauntings. Mysterious accidents.

Chloe knows that the devil was less than thrilled about the
project and was going to do his best to hinder its progress. Luckily, faith and
prayer made it all bearable. In the entire two years of production, from running
lines to filming to editing, they only lost two team members, who quit to
escape the peculiar events.

Frank always knew what to say in trying times and Chloe
cannot help but feel God had his hand in his selection to undertake the movie.

She made many new friends along the way and strengthened her
faith as well as the ability to share her own testimony.

She was so excited when James flew out for the premiere in
California. Walking the red carpet was deliciously terrifying. She was seeing
flashes of light for at least an hour afterwards and is still astounded that
she did not trip all over herself on her way into the theater. All the same,
she was very grateful to have James’ arm to lean on. He was looking at her
throughout most of the pictures, which was more than evident in the next
tabloids.

Chloe tries not to look through them or pay attention to the
paparazzi. She has never liked being the center of attention, whether it was at
Orion’s or on the red carpet.

This is such a dream come true! This is everything she has
ever wanted.

Well… almost everything.

•

Tonight, there is a poster for a new release on the wall
outside the town’s most popular theatre. The title of the movie is ‘Passion of
the Cross.’ All the work has paid off, with interest.

A long line extends from the cashier all the way into the
parking lot. The entire place is bustling with activity. The box office can
hardly keep pace with the impatient crowd, let alone the snack bar. While it is
not the movie premier, as that was an eye-opener in and of itself, it is the
premier of it in their town.

Chloe and James sit at the back, watching the movie with the
crowd who has no idea they are present. Chloe glances around at some of the
patrons, seeing mixed emotions on their faces. Some are crying, some laugh. The
prevailing sense, however, is conviction.

Chloe reaches across the divider to hold James’ hand,
oblivious to the shock on his face and the fact that she has never initiated
that kind of contact between them since their kiss in the park. He sits,
grinning like an idiot, beside her.

Chloe’s attention is elsewhere.

Another young man sits close enough to make out his face
under the soft light of the screen. He is dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans,
his black hair styled not unlike the gothic boys she remembers from high
school—hanging in his eyes, hiding him. His lip and nose are pierced. His ears
are gaged. He is in tears, fist pressed to his mouth as he watches intently.

Her heart goes out to him. She experiences a spate of guilt,
knowing she is part of the reason he is so upset. Chloe sees no one else for
the duration of the movie, making a silent promise to herself to try and talk
with him after.

When the movie ends, a message appears on the screen, asking
everyone to remain seated for another two minutes. Amidst the confusion,
lingering sniffles, and murmurs of conversation throughout the audience, the
screen changes. A question appears.

“Chloe Cleopatra Taylor, will you be my wife?”

Chloe looks at a beaming James, stunned. He stands and
extends his hand to her, producing the Tiffany box from the pocket of his
slacks. The audience quickly catches on and turns towards the back as some of
the theatre lights come up.

James waits patiently, as he has always done and will always
do, for her answer. He stands like a statue—the pinnacle of everything she has
ever wanted and everything she will ever need. In spite of all they have been
through, he remained the only constant in her life. And he still wants her,
regardless of the fact that he has probably seen her at her very worst. He is a
godsend in its truest form. And she really truly does want to spend the rest of
her life with him, telling him so.

Chloe chokes on her tears, and can only nod her answer. She
takes James’ hand. He pulls her to her feet and they embrace. He picks her
flats up from the floor and she kicks them up instinctively. They laugh, the
sound strangled by happy tears. The audience erupts in cheers. The people start
to file out of the exit after another moment.

The young man from the theater walks through the parking
lot. He wipes his eyes again with the worn sleeve of his jacket. Chloe
hurriedly catches up to him.

“Wait up! Hold on a second!” she calls. He turns towards her
with a look of mild alarm, not unlike someone who is afraid of being caught in
a place they are not supposed to be. She wonders if his parents know he is
here. “Hi,” she says, assuming a gentle smile as she hooks her hair behind her
ears.

He is probably around seventeen and a little shorter than
she is. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, suddenly interested
in his shoes. Quietly, “Hey.” He sniffs.

Chloe takes a breath. “I saw you in the movie theater,” she
starts, hoping he will look up so she can catch his eyes. “You seemed troubled.
I just… I wanted to know if you were ok.”

To her relief, the boy does look up. He looks up and meets
her eyes. “I am now,” he replies.

Chloe could swear she has never heard a more sincere
statement. She blinks, seeing physical evidence of the impact made by her work
in another human face and heart. Chloe has made a difference and somehow she
knows that even if this boy was the only one in the entire world that her
script touched, she would be no less fulfilled and content.

As he shuffles his feet, “Congratulations on your
engagement.”

“Thank you.” She has no idea why she feels so compelled to
say what she does next, but she says it anyway. “God bless you.” Chloe smiles
back at him, reaching out and gently squeezing his arm. She lets him go. The
boy nods to her, turns on his heel, and continues on his way. Just then, James
catches up to her, jogging across the asphalt. He glances between Chloe and the
boy.

“We good?” he asks, assuming an affectionate grin.

“No,” Chloe replies. James falters and stiffens. A radiant
grin explodes onto Chloe’s face. “We are great!” she corrects. James scoops her
up into his arms and presses a kiss against her lips. She strings her arms
around his neck. They’re both smiling, hearts alight with devotion and love.

“Let’s go home,” James suggests. He picks her up,
bridal-style, and carries her towards their brand new BMW, parked in the front.
They can both still remember the beat up hunk of junk he used to drive her
around in—the temperamental piece of scrap that sometimes refused to start.
They look back now and they are grateful. And Chloe never has to “say anything”
again.

•

At their condo roughly a month later, there is a gathering
of guests.

Everyone is formally dressed. The party is catered. There is
even a man in a tuxedo delivering champagne and other non-alcoholic wines on a
silver tray. James walks around, greeting and meeting people. There are
pictures of him and Chloe on walls and shelves. Some are together. Some are
apart. Some of them he took himself. Whatever the case, both of them look so
happy.

People are chatting and laughing together in garrulous
clusters.

Chloe descends the stairs in a scarlet red dress. It ties
behind her neck, the satin straps spilling down her bare back. The skirt
reaches the floor, flowering out around her heels. She is an absolute vision.
The room seems to fall in a hush on her entrance. James takes her hand.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” James begins. “The lady of the
hour!” The room applauds.

Chloe assumes a humble, tight smile. Her cheeks are stained
with a blush almost as dark as her dress. She leans over to James, whispering
to him through her wan smile. “Is all this really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” he mutters back. “Just smile and wave.” So she
does. It is all rather embarrassing. She cannot help but feel this is taking it
to an extreme. Her own success is still bewildering. It seems too unreal!

Chloe helps herself to a glass of wine and some caviar—a
dish unknown to her only a year ago. Guests come to meet and greet her. James
takes a glass of wine from the passing tray and clears his throat.