Photo by Bernd 📷 Dittrich on Unsplash

This passage originally appeared in the novel GALAHAD (2022).

On a cool Easter morning, Josef Galaad was unexpectedly arrested by unidentified agents and brought to the central bureaucracy of the city, a building of mirrored glass. They did not acknowledge what organization they acted on behalf of, though the very act of arrest suggested legal enforcement. They did not tell Josef the crime of which he was accused. He feared he would be detained or worse, and he was not sure why—his innocence should be able to speak for itself. Josef Galaad was a chaste young man of common birth who knew scripture inside and out; he did not act outside the bounds of his strictly held beliefs. And still, he was arrested.

“You must have done something wrong,” the clerk at the central bureaucracy building said to Josef. “Otherwise, you would not have been arrested.”

Despite his conviction that he had done nothing untoward, the doubt curdled in his stomach like sour milk. Perhaps the clerk was correct, that he would not have been arrested if he had not done something wrong. 

“Will there be a trial through which I can prove my case?”

“All of the accused will be granted a trial, so long as they acknowledge they’ve done something wrong.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” responded Josef. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But you were arrested—you must have done something wrong.”

Josef looked at the other people seated in the lobby of the mirrored building. They wore glum faces, resigned to their arrests, preparing to enter their plea as soon as they were called to the clerk. “If I admit that I’ve done something wrong, won’t I be found guilty in a trial?”

“You will only be found guilty if you’ve done something wrong,” the clerk said. He was a small, bespectacled man with a round head surrounded by mountains of paperwork.

Josef Galaad had been unsure what to do with his life—he sought purpose. Perhaps this arrest would give him the purpose he so desperately craved—he would be a champion of these downtrodden people, terrorized by the central bureaucracy that they didn’t understand. “But don’t you see,” said Josef, “in order to receive a trial, I must admit my guilt in wrongdoing. I don’t even know what I’ve been accused of!”

“So you’re saying you’ve done nothing wrong. Until you acknowledge what you’ve done, there will be no trial. I don’t know how to help you, or make it any clearer. Your case will remain pending. Next!” the clerk exclaimed. He pounded a stamp on a paper that clearly must have contained Josef’s case, and then closed it within a manila folder. Josef found himself reaching for the file, but the clerk had already pulled it away.

“But wait!” Josef cried. He felt the injustice of his situation seize him as if by the throat. “You can’t just arrest someone who’s done nothing to warrant an arrest! You can’t ask him to submit his guilt in order to receive a trial! You and your bureaucracy must be reckoned with!” His nerves tingled with excitement, the adrenaline surging in his chest. 

The clerk, who had begun to turn away, looked back at Josef. “Are you a God-fearing man, sir?” he asked. 

“Yes, of course.” 

“So you believe in the Fall of Man, yes?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything, but yes,” replied Josef.

“Are you a man, descended from Adam?”

“Yes, I..."

“Then you must be guilty of something. Isn’t that central to your beliefs? There is no perfection in the eyes of God, for this is a worthless world, a fallen world. All those who are brought before the law, they are guilty of wrongdoing because they’ve been arrested. That’s how the system works. And the system continues to work because those guilty of wrongdoing are tried and convicted.”

“But that isn’t right!” Josef shouted. “I accept the Lord in my heart, and for that my sins are absolved!”

The clerk snickered. “And here, I am the Lord. You do as I say, or there will be no absolution.” 

“So what are you telling me to do?” Josef asked.

“Admit your wrongdoing. Plead guilty.”

“But I refuse.”

“At your peril. Your case will remain pending until you reverse your decision.” The clerk gestured for Josef to move along with a flick of his hand, as though he were swatting away an annoying insect.

Josef looked back despondently at the clerk before removing himself from the counter. He wandered to an open seat in the lobby, curiously wishing to observe someone else’s interaction with the clerk. Each person called to the clerk, their heads hanging low, spoke simple, short sentences and were escorted to the passageway beyond the counter by agents similar to those who made the arrest.

“You’re not like them,” the woman sitting next to him said. She placed a hand on his knee, which he barely noticed. 

“This doesn’t make any sense. I can’t admit to something I didn’t do.”

“Then maybe you should do something,” she answered, pursing her lips. At this response, Josef looked at her as she tilted her head. She had sharp eyes that changed color depending on the angle of the light, now blue, now green, now brown. Her pale skin seemed both comforting and inviting. In observing her hand on his knee, he felt lightning jolt up his leg. Suddenly he was standing without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t..."

“Shouldn’t what?” she asked, the hand that had been on his knee now brought to her chin. She leaned on the elbow of her chair, observing Josef and his sudden burst of anxiety. 

“What are you doing here?” Josef said, suddenly curious of the crime of which she was accused. Why else would she be in this lobby if she hadn’t done something wrong?

“I’m waiting to be called before the clerk, just like everyone else. But I’m happy to find ways to pass the time.”

“Is that why you’re here? Soliciting such acts?”

“Why are you here?” she retorted sharply.

“I was arrested without cause.”

“No one is arrested without cause,” she replied. “Everyone is here for a reason.”

“I do not know my reason, and you don’t seem to know yours!”

“Oh, I know why I’m here, but it’s no business of yours,” said the woman. 

With that, Josef Galaad felt his earlier sense of purpose snatched away from him. Those waiting in this lobby had their own reasons for being here and resigned themselves to letting the bureaucracy have its way. Was this how the law functioned—a tacit agreement between those in front of and behind the counter that relied on passive acceptance? 

Perhaps that was the way of the world, and Josef had never seen it clearly before. He glared at the woman, still filled with a sense of anxiety and doubt that perhaps he had made some transgression he could not recall. Josef began to walk away from her, curious if he would be allowed to leave this mirrored building if he were to make his way to the exit. A headache tingled within his skull. He rubbed his temples, trying to comprehend his predicament. 

Others walked to the counter when called, and they continued speaking their short sentences. Each were escorted to the passageway in turn while Josef Galaad meekly paced about the lobby. Eventually even the woman with the pleasantly changing eye colors and inviting pale skin was called before the clerk, and she was escorted to the passageway just like everyone else. He felt as though he were missing something, some great revelation that would make it all come into focus. 

The temptation was there, sitting like a boulder in his gut, to accept guilt and gain admittance to whatever awaited in that passageway. But there was also a strict conviction within Josef that would not allow such a lie. And so Josef Galaad waited and waited as others were called before the clerk and then escorted from the lobby.