[Author’s Note: This is an AI-assisted rough draft, so it’s still got a lot of issues that are going to be worked out before the final draft. The genre is post-apocalyptic / end-times fiction, and I plan to publish this novel under my pen name J.M. Wight.]
The late spring air was dry and pleasant, the afternoon sun not quite hot enough to justify turning on the precious air conditioning that drew so much power from the house batteries. Jacob Wilcox knelt among the tidy rows of vegetables in their front yard garden, his calloused hands stained with dirt. Nearby, his wife Emily dug through the soil, carefully plucking out the pesky weeds that had sprung up among the tomatoes they’d recently planted. Their two year-old daughter giggled nearby, chasing a butterfly through the overgrown grass on the other side of the sidewalk.
“Look, Mommy!” Lily squealed as she scampered after the delicate creature, which evaded her grasping fingers with ease.
“Careful, sweetheart,” Emily called out, smiling at their daughter’s innocent delight. Her eyes met Jacob’s, and he nodded, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
“We’ll need to expand the potato patch soon,” he said, his blue eyes scanning the yard critically. “With food shortages getting worse, we can’t afford to waste any space.”
Emily nodded, her braid swinging as she bent to pat soil around a tomato plant. “I was thinking we could tear out those old rose bushes by the fence. They’re not practical anymore.”
A flicker of sadness passed over Jacob’s face. Those roses had been Emily’s pride and joy, before… well, before everything changed. As with most of the people still living on their street, their front yard had been converted almost completely from lawn to garden space. Jacobe had even extended the garden to the neighboring house, which had been unoccupied ever since the elderly couple that used to live there had passed away. Though technically they didn’t own it, Provo city gave them a break on their property taxes to maintain it, and the yard space was useful for feeding their growing family. Besides, it kept their street from looking as ugly as some of the others in the city, where totally abandoned houses stood in broken disrepair, their yards covered in weeds and overgrown saplings.
“It’s hard to believe this used to be such a lively neighborhood,” Emily murmured, following Jacob’s gaze. “Now it feels…empty.”
Jacob nodded, his brow furrowing. “The population crash has taken its toll, that’s for sure. But at least we have this.” He gestured to the garden, the rich soil yielding the fruits of their labor. “With the supply chains collapsing, we’re blessed to have this extra space to grow our own food.”
Emily smiled faintly, wiping a strand of hair from her face. “I’m grateful for that, Jacob. It’s one less thing we have to worry about.” Her expression darkened slightly. “Though I can’t help but wonder what else the future might hold.”
Jacob reached over, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Have faith, my love. The Lord is watching over us, even in these uncertain times.”
Emily nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “You’re right.” She squeezed his hand back, then returned her attention to the garden, her movements calmer, more assured.
Jacob glanced from Lily to the craggy mountains that towered only a few miles from their house. The mountains were one of the few things that hadn’t changed, though the paint on the Y above Brigham Young University had almost completely worn off. The faint scent of sagebrush carried on the breeze, mingling with the earthy smell of the freshly tilled soil. It wasn’t difficult to imagine what the pioneers must have felt when they’d planted their first crops in the soil not far from here. Jacob couldn’t help but feel his kinship with them as he turned to regard their own small garden.
The jingle of an approaching bicycle bell suddenly caught their attention. They turned to see Brother Hansen, the stake executive secretary, pedaling up the cracked sidewalk.
“Brother and Sister Wilcox,” he called out, smiling wanly as he stopped his bike in front of their yard. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Jacob replied, setting down his shovel. “What can we do for you?”
Brother Thompson’s eyes darted between them. “President Thornton would like to meet with you both this evening at the Stake Center. Seven o’clock, if that’s convenient.”
Jacob felt Emily stiffen beside him as she drew a sharp breath. He squeezed her hand for support.
“Did he say what it’s regarding?” Jacob asked. There were only a small handful of possibilities.
Brother Hansen shook his head. “No, he didn’t provide me with any details.”
Emily glanced quickly at Jacob, as if gauging his reaction. “Jacob…”
“Can we make it?” he asked her softly.
She bit her lip and nodded. He turned to Brother Hansen again.
“Of course. We’ll be there.”
With a nod and a smile, Brother Hansen remounted his bicycle. “Thank you, Brother and Sister Wilcox. We’ll see you there.”
They watched in silence as he rode away, hardly daring to speak until he turned the corner and passed out of sight. Jacob turned to his wife, searching her face, which had suddenly gone pale, her green eyes wide with apprehension.
“What did Brother Hansen want, Daddy?” Lily asked in her innocent voice.
Jacob let go of Emily’s hand and knelt down to give his daughter a reassuring smile.
“Mommy and Daddy have a meeting with President Thornton tonight, after you go to bed. But don’t worry, I’m sure Grandma can babysit you while we’re gone.”
Emily bit her lip. “Do you think President Thornton is going to…” Her voice trailed off, leaving her thought unspoken.
Jacob took a long breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, the words feeling heavy on his tongue. “But we have that extra house… it makes sense that they might call us to live the Principle.”
The Principle. Yet another thing that they now had in common with the early pioneers. Had it been as difficult a thing for them to live as it was for the saints now? Until President Soares had announced the resumption of the practice, nearly everyone in the church had thought of plural marriage as a historical anomaly—something that the Lord had required only of the early saints, for reasons that were unique to their time and circumstances. But now, it was clear that the true anomaly was the century and a half in which the practice of plural marriage had been suspended.
“It could be about anything,” Jacob said softly, trying to reassure her. But his own heart was racing. A summons from the Stake President was rarely a casual matter these days.
Emily shook her head. “Why else would he want to see us both? We’re not rich, but we’re better off than most. We have the extra house next door…”
“Which we’re using for more garden space,” Jacob interjected. “Emily, please. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. Our faith will see us through.”
Emily bit her lip, clearly unconvinced. Jacob longed to pull her close, to chase away her fears. But he knew that right now, his certainty would only push her further away.
“Mommy,” Lily asked, her big blue eyes filled with worry. “Why do you look so sad?”
Emily forced a smile and scooped Lily up into her arms. “I’m fine, dear. Just some adult stuff to deal with. How about we go inside and make some lemonade together?”
Lily nodded enthusiastically, her thoughts now consumed by the promise of a sweet treat. Jacob watched them go, his heart heavy. He lingered a moment longer, surveying the fruits of their labor—the garden, the houses, the comfortable life they’d built. How fragile it all now seemed.
Jacob adjusted his tie in the mirror, carefully smoothing out the silk fabric until it lay perfectly against his threadbare white shirt. Behind him, Emily sat on the edge of their bed, quietly brushing out her long chestnut hair. The weight of their impending meeting with the stake president hung between them like a thick fog. Even so, neither of them said anything until a knock at the front door broke the silence.
“That’ll be your mother,” said Emily, rising at once to her feet. “I’ll go check on Lily one more time and be down in a few minutes.”
Jacob nodded, watching her slip out of the room before he made his way downstairs. Sure enough, his mother Eleanor was waiting on the porch, a gentle smile on her face.
“Good evening, Jacob. I hope I’m not making you late.”
“Not at all, Mom,” he said, stepping aside to let her enter. “We’ve already put Lily to bed. Thanks for watching her while we’re gone.”
Eleanor paused, studying his face with her keen blue eyes. “Is everything alright, Jake? You seem troubled.”
Jacob sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just this meeting with President Thornton. I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to ask Emily and me to… you know…”
“To enter into plural marriage?”
He nodded, his shoulders sagging. “To be honest, I don’t know how Emily would take that. She’s struggled with the Principle ever since President Soares announced it. I’m not sure her testimony is strong enough for something like that.”
“Have you talked with her about it?” Eleanor asked gently.
“Not really,” Jacob admitted, looking down at his shoes. “I don’t want to push her. She’s been through so much already, with her mother leaving the church and all. I don’t know how to bring it up without making things worse.”
Eleanor’s gentle gaze lingered on her son, her brow furrowed in concern. “Oh, Jacob. I know your love for Emily is strong and you only want to protect her. But a good husband must also be able to have difficult conversations. You cannot keep avoiding this forever.”
Jacob let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of his mother’s words. How could he explain to Emily that while he didn’t necessarily agree with the concept of plural marriage, he had faith in the church and its leaders? That they were being guided by a higher power, even if it was hard to comprehend at times? His mind was filled with conflicting emotions, but he knew deep down that Eleanor was right. They couldn’t keep brushing this issue aside.
Emily’s soft footsteps on the worn wooden stairs drew Jacob’s attention. He looked up to see her descending, her chestnut braid swaying gently with each step. A smile tugged at his lips, momentarily easing the tension that had built in his chest.
“Hey there,” Jacob said softly, meeting Emily at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Lily go down okay?”
Emily nodded, her hazel-green eyes meeting his. “She did. She asked for an extra story tonight.”
Eleanor stood from her seat, smoothing her skirt. “Well, I’ll be here if she needs anything. You two go on now, don’t want to keep President Thornton waiting.”
“Of course.” Jacob guided Emily towards the door with a light touch on her lower back. “Thanks again for watching Lily, Ma. We shouldn’t be more than a couple hours.”
“Take all the time you need,” Eleanor said, embracing each of them in turn. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
They walked in silence for a moment, the fading sunlight casting long shadows across their path. The once-vibrant neighborhood had a haunting, abandoned feel, with overgrown yards and darkened windows hinting at the collapse that had transformed their community. Given everything that had happened in the last few years, it truly was a blessing that they lived in a town where it was safe to walk five blocks after dark. Then again, things had never gotten as bad in Utah as they had in most of the rest of the country.
“Could you have ever imagined our town looking like this?” he whispered, struggling to find the right words.
“So much has changed,” Emily said, her voice trembling as she squeezed his hand tighter. “And who knows what else could change, depending on what President Thornton has to say.”
Jacob’s chest tightened, and he squeezed his wife’s hand in a way that he hoped was reassuring. Five years had passed since the church had issued Official Declaration 3, with the unanimous support of the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve. Jacob had been on his mission at the time, and like everyone else in the church, Jacob had struggled with it, but he felt he’d gained a testimony of it—or at least, as much of a testimony as one could gain without actually practicing the Principle. But with Emily, he wasn’t so sure.
“It’ll be alright, Em,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “And even if it is, we’ll… we’ll figure it out. The Lord wouldn’t ask anything of us that we can’t handle.”
Emily nodded, her gaze fixed on the familiar path leading to the stake center. “I know, Jacob. I just…” She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth. “What if President Thornton does want us to consider plural marriage? I don’t know if I can do it, Jacob. The thought of sharing you with someone else…”
Jacob squeezed her hand, wishing he knew the right words to comfort her. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said gently. “We don’t know for sure what this meeting is about.”
Emily leaned into his touch. “I know the church teaches that plural marriage is a righteous principle,” Emily whispered, her gaze fixed on the pavement. “But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to live it. Does that make me faithless?”
Jacob stopped walking, turning to face her. “Of course not,” he said firmly, cupping her cheek. “Having questions doesn’t mean you lack faith, Emily. It just means you’re human.”
Emily managed a small smile, drawing strength from Jacob’s reassuring touch. “I’ll try to be strong. For you, and for Lily.” She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I just wish I had your unwavering faith.”
“Your faith is strong, Emily,” Jacob insisted, his tone earnest. “You’ve never wavered in your love for the Lord, even when times have been difficult.” He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “As long as we have each other, and the Lord on our side, we can handle anything. Right?”
“Right,” she murmured, though he could still hear the uncertainty in her voice.
“Brother and Sister Wilcox,” said Brother Hansen, setting aside the three-ring binder splayed across his lap as he rose to greet them. His smile was warm, but did little to ease the tension Jacob felt as he and Emily stepped into the foyer of the stake center.
“Is President Thornton seeing someone right now?” Jacob asked as he shook Brother Hansen’s hand.
The stake executive secretary laughed. “No, for once we aren’t running behind. I also left the next interview slot open, in case the president wants some extra time with you.”
Jacob could practically hear his wife’s nervous swallow. Uncertainty coiled in the pit of his stomach, but he forced it down. He had to be strong enough for both of them.
Brother Hansen quickly ushered them down the hall to the stake offices behind the chapel. The lights on the other side of the building were off, making the empty hallway beyond feel like a long, dark tunnel. President Thornton was waiting at the last door before the darkness, his smiling face partially shadowed.
“Jacob and Emily,” he welcomed them warmly. “It’s good to see you both. Please, come inside.”
President Thornton was an older man, with gray hair and a navy blue suit and a white shirt, both of them slightly wrinkled. His tie was red and navy blue, with a simple chevron design. His smile was warm and friendly, though his eyes were solemn. Jacob felt his wife stiffen involuntarily as he pulled back the large conference chair for her.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” President Thornton said as he took his own seat at the head of the large conference table. “I know this has been a difficult time for many of us, with all the changes our church has recently experienced.”
Jacob took the chair beside his wife and squeezed her hand, acutely aware of Emily’s tension. He cleared his throat. “We’re happy to serve in any way we can, President.”
There was a moment of silence, heavy with anticipation. President Thornton leaned forward, his hands clasped in front of him. He met each of their eyes.
“Brother and Sister Wilcox, I have prayed earnestly about your family and the role the Lord would have you play in the unfolding events of these latter days.”
This is it, Jacob thought, bracing himself. He felt an awful knot form in his stomach.
“In the last general conference,” President Thornton continued, “President Soares announced that the time has come to build up Zion in the land of Missouri.” He paused, his gaze sweeping between the two of them. “Brother and Sister Wilcox, the Lord has called you to go to Missouri and help build the New Jerusalem.”
The words hung in the air for a moment. Jacob blinked, surprise washing over him. He turned to Emily, searching her face for a reaction. Her eyes were wide, a mix of relief and uncertainty evident in her expression.
“You… aren’t calling us to practice plural marriage?” he asked.
President Thornton smiled. “No, Brother and Sister Wilcox. I have not brought you here to call you to practice the Principle at this time. Rather, it is the Lord’s will that you should take your family to the New Jerusalem.”
Jacob felt the breath leave his lungs in a rush, the knot in his stomach unraveling. They were not being called to practice plural marriage. He was not being asked to take a second wife at this time. But as he glanced at Emily, he saw a different emotion flickering across her face – one tinged with uncertainty and apprehension.
“The New Jerusalem?” Emily’s voice was soft, tinged with a hint of wonder and trepidation. “But…what about our life here? Our home, our family?” She reached for Jacob’s hand, her fingers trembling slightly.
President Thornton nodded sympathetically. “I know this is a lot to take in. The call to build Zion is not one to be taken lightly.” He clasped his hands on the table, his gaze earnest. “But the Lord has spoken, and we must heed His call. The Lord has chosen your family, along with several others from our stake, to join the first wave of settlers. You, Jacob and Emily, are called to help built up Zion there—to be part of the vanguard of saints heeding this prophetic mandate.”
Jacob’s mind was suddenly in turmoil, torn between excitement and the fear of leaving behind everything he knew. Moving to Missouri would mean starting over, leaving behind the comfortable life they had built. Yet it was also a chance to take part in fulfilling the prophecies about building the city of Zion in the last days, a duty that thrilled him to his core.
“What exactly will this calling entail, President Thornton?” he asked.
“I know it will be difficult to leave your homes behind,” President Thornton said solemnly. “But you won’t be alone in the journey. Your father, Thomas, has been called to lead the caravan, along with both of his wives.”
Jacob blinked in surprise. “He’s already accepted the call?”
“Yes,” said President Thornton, smiling. “I extended it to him just an hour ago.”
“When do we leave?” Emily asked.
President Thornton turned to regard her kindly. “Not until everything has been put in order. The prophet’s counsel on this matter is clear: we are not to go up in haste, or to run faster than we have strength. You will have all the time you need to make the necessary preparations.”
But not to sell their house, Jacob knew. No matter how much time they took, he doubted they’d ever find a buyer. The population collapse had completely destroyed the real estate market, even here in the free state of Utah.
“I know it will be a difficult sacrifice,” President Thornton said, as if reading his thoughts. “But I testify that your family will be blessed as you answer the prophet’s call.”
Jacob nodded and glanced at his wife, squeezing her hand. “We know, President Thornton. We’ll go.”
The stake president smiled. “Thank you, Brother and Sister Wilcox. Do you have any questions?”
Before Jacob could speak, Emily’s soft voice cut through the silence. “I know you haven’t called us to live the Principle at this time, but if… if we’re asked to live that law upon arriving, how are we to…” Her voice trailed off, leaving the question unspoken.
President Thornton nodded kindly. “The prophet Joseph Smith taught us that a religion that does not demand the sacrifice of all things does not have the power to produce faith unto salvation. The Lord’s timing is His own, and I cannot tell you everything that He will require of you. But I promise that He will guide and uphold you as you put your trust in Him.”
The tension in the room eased somewhat, though Jacob could sense that Emily wasn’t totally satisfied with the stake president’s answer. It would not be easy to leave everything behind.
“We will do all that the Lord requires of us,” he said firmly.
“Thank you, my dear brother,” President Thornton answered. “Now, I suggest you go home and start making preparations for your journey.”
He rose to his feet, signaling the end of their interview.
Jacob leaned against the heavy black door of the stake center, holding it for his wife as they stepped out into the crisp evening air. The last traces of twilight were just visible on the horizon, and hundreds of stars were already visible in the dark, cloudless sky, multiplying by the minute above the sparsely lit city.
Emily was the first to break the heavy silence as they walked hand in hand down the darkened neighborhood street. “At least we weren’t called to practice plural marriage,” she offered.
“Yeah,” said Jacob, glancing at her sideways. Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to say that? He squeezed her hand reassuringly, but she still felt tense and nervous. What was she worried about?
“So,” he said, “the New Jerusalem.”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Her steps were slow and hesitant, and not just from the darkness or the cracked and broken sidewalk.
“Hey,” said Jacob, putting an arm around her as they walked. “Is everything okay?”
But as they walked down the street back toward their house, Emily’s steps were slow and hesitant, suggesting that she was still troubled. Jacob longed to wrap his arms around her and comfort her, to tell her that everything would be alright, but the words caught in his throat like a lump of coal. Despite the peacefulness of the night, a storm brewed within them both, uncertain and fearful of what their new calling would bring.
Emily was the first to speak, breaking the stillness. “Missouri,” she said doubtfully. “The New Jerusalem. It all sounds so extravagant. But what about our lives here? Our home, our friends?” She looked at him with a pleading expression. “How can we just up and leave everything behind?”
Jacob’s heart sank. He had no easy answers, only the unwavering belief that they must follow the prophet’s guidance, even if it felt like an impossible path to follow.
“The Lord will bless us, Emily,” Jacob said, trying to convince himself as much as her. “It won’t be easy, but the Lord will provide for us, just as He has for His people throughout history.”
Emily’s grip on Jacob’s hand tightened, her fingers trembling slightly. “I want to believe that, Jacob. I really do. But…” She trailed off, her gaze fixed on the cracked sidewalk beneath their feet.
Jacob’s stomach churned with a mixture of empathy and frustration. He knew Emily’s faith wasn’t as unwavering as his own, but he desperately wanted her to feel the same peace he did about their calling. He searched for the right words, praying silently for guidance.
“Remember when we first got married?” he asked softly. “How scared we were about starting our life together, especially with the world falling apart around us?”
Emily nodded, a faint smile ghosting across her lips. “How could I forget? We were so young, so naive.”
Jacob pressed on, encouraged by her response. “But we made it through, didn’t we? We built a life together, despite everything. The Lord blessed us then, and He’ll bless us now.”
As he spoke, Jacob’s gaze drifted upward, taking in the vast expanse of stars above them. The night sky seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if the very heavens were affirming his words. A cool breeze rustled through the nearby trees, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and distant rain.
But when Jacob looked back at Emily, his heart sank. Instead of comfort, he saw a shadow pass over her face, her eyes growing distant and troubled. The smile that had briefly graced her lips had vanished, replaced by a tightness that made his chest ache.
“Emily?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, her hair catching the dim light of a nearby streetlamp. “Never mind, Jacob. I’ll be alright.”
The rest of their journey was filled with heavy silence. As they neared their modest home, Jacob couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his own reflection in the darkened windows. The man staring back at him looked lost and uncertain – a stark contrast to the confident, strong leader he knew he was supposed to be. He felt grateful for the opportunity to help build the New Jerusalem, to be chosen among those preparing for Christ’s return. But as he thought about the daunting task ahead, doubts and insecurities crept in, making him question if he was truly worthy of such an important role.
