Second Coming: Chapter 17

We arrived in Atlanta late in the afternoon, an easy trip considering the graces of having two people to switch off on the driving. We stayed in the RV that night in a park that Joseph had reserved for us. Due to the winter weather keeping the park mostly empty and the proximity of the Secret Service sedan, nobody bothered us that night, despite having Joseph’s face plastered on the side of the massive vehicle.

I found myself barely able to find sleep that night. Maybe it was knowing that the man was just beyond the thin privacy curtain, ostensibly awake, doing whatever he did during the times when everybody else was asleep. I couldn’t also get the worry out of my head that my plans for that following day would be the best for me, the Agent, and the country in general.

I peeked my head out beyond the curtain for a short moment, simply out of curiosity. The long-haired man was sitting in the kitchenette, head turned out the window and looking up at the bright moon shining through the dark cloud cover. He didn’t seem to blink, but so late in the night, I didn’t care to confirm whether such a thing was true or not.

The Pastor was up earlier than myself that next day and had already ventured out to bring back a box of donuts and two steaming cups of decaf. “Good town here,” Joseph announced energetically. “Good people.”

I picked at my hair and brushed the sleep out of my eyes to appear as proper as I could at a time like that for the man who was still technically my employer and boss. “You didn’t go alone, did you?” I asked, making sure the man was still about. I noticed him outside, still looking up to the sky.

“Oh, no. Agent Barth came with. I actually hadn’t gotten much talk out of him until now.”

“I see.” I focused on the conversation and attempted to ignore my desire to dig into the sugary box of pastries.

“They’re sending out a shuttle at about 2 to bring us to the station. Eat up, Jude.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

As he foretold, the shuttle bus with the TV network’s logo on it pulled up in the neighboring spot just on time. In the hours previous, Joseph, myself, as well as the man had finished going over the questions and the particular ways he could answer them. We had also made ourselves presentable, with the Pastor dressed in the same manner he had appeared on the rally stages and sermons many times previous.

It was the first time that anyone outside of our regular group had come into contact with the supposed holy man. The driver, a young intern-looking woman, wavered between staring at him and being fixated on the floor while she helped us into the vehicle. On the drive, I caught her eyes several times in the rear-view mirror looking at him possibly more than the road. Despite her inattention, we arrived at the station’s parking garage in one piece.

Just as we were going to enter the building, her voice echoed about the wide, dim space. “I must ask something of you, your holiness!”

Joseph turned with the man toward her. He maintained a straight face. “Of course, my dear. Speak.”

She approached us again, hands on her stomach. “I am… not able to have a child… to conceive with my husband. I ask of you… please make my womb fertile.”

Joseph’s eyebrows twitched, and his gaze trailed toward the man. Before he could speak, the long-haired man stepped forward and placed his palm toward the young woman’s stomach. As he held her, everyone seemed to be holding their breaths. The moment lasted for longer than anyone would have liked, but separation finally came. “Go now with more ease, child.” The man said.

Tears formed in her eyes, but before the exchange could go on any longer, a man in a headset popped out of the nearby elevator doors. “Joseph Cummings and party? May I ask you to proceed with some haste?”

While Joseph and the man went off to makeup, agent Barth caught up with me. “Interesting show.” He murmured.

“On this station? Or…?”

“The one down in the parking garage.” He corrected.

I leaned in close to him and spoke lowly. “Do you really think… he did anything at all?”

“Whether he did or not, it’s not like the girl will know anytime soon, or if what happens is a result of anything he did.”

From there on out, I didn’t have any further contact with Joseph or the man. First was lights, then soundcheck, and then the host came out to meet and chat with the both of them. Mark Pilatus was his name, fairly famous in the area, and although I had never watched the show before, my quick internet search revealed he had decent ratings across most of the midwest. Barth and I moped around backstage until the camera operators began to turn restless. A loud call for quiet on the set went out, and the lights fell.

The stage we set up nicely with a long desk with two opposing chairs and fancy microphones which were likely there just for show. Joseph was already sat at one, with the holy man just off-camera. The crew directed us to a screen from where we could see what was being broadcast at that moment. The energetic middle-aged tan fellow jogged out and rubbed his hands before the camera, launching into his spiel. “Good evening Ladies and Gentleman at home, and welcome to Cross the T’s, with I– Mark Pilatus. We’ve got a unique show for us tonight indeed. First off tonight, speaking with us is the talk of the town- no- the entire United States. Joseph ‘The Pastor’ Cummings.”

Pilatus restrained himself a bit as he found the seat across from Joseph, and the camera pulled in to frame both of them.

“Welcome, Mr. Cummings,” Pilatus said, shaking hands across the table.

“Good to be here, Mark,” Joseph replied, reciprocating the shake. “Just Joseph or Pastor is fine.”

“Is that so?” Pilatus nodded with a smile. “I’ve never actually addressed anyone as Pastor before, or Priest, or Father for that matter- not even my own!” He joked loudly.

Joseph sat back and audibly breathed out his nose. “Well, whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Pilatus rubbed at his face and fine, dark whiskers. “No worries, no worries. Perhaps I should be worried instead with the man you’ve brought with you today. How should I call him? Mr. Christ?”

“His holiness, I prefer to use, but he goes by many names.”

The caster nodded emphatically and waived for the man to come into view from behind the set curtains. A stagehand stepped in hurriedly after with a matching seat, and the supposed holy-man sat down at their level.

“Well, never would I have-” Pilatus paused. “No, perhaps down to business. In case anyone at home has been living under a rock, Mr. Joseph Cummings is running for President of the United States. You’re planning big changes here in the U.S.”

“That’s right,” Joseph answered officially.

“With this man’s help.”

“Well, Mark, such was the plan, in fact, from the beginning,” Joseph said, leaning confidently across the table at the host. “I’ve had the Lord on my side ever since I accepted him into my heart. When I first decided to run, it was with his strength I was going to do so. But it just so happened that he appeared to me in the flesh and blood.”

“And you’ve taken that as a sign?” Pilatus asked expectantly.

“Oh, yes, quite. There is no greater sign than the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.”

“Quite interesting. I’ve been following your interactions about the country so far, the Bible Belt for a good part of it. Obviously, you had nothing but good turnouts in those parts, correct?”

“Correct.”

“And what about the rest of the country?”

Joseph shrugged. “There are plenty of believers out there, and more who will open up to believing when they see the light.”

“I see, I see. We haven’t heard much from this man over here- excuse me, his holiness.” Pilatus leaned to the side, finding the eyes of the man. “May I ask you what you think of this? Perhaps… perhaps give us a message that can be cast all across the country, for all to hear- from the blessed one himself.”

Joseph bit at his lip, but it didn’t seem like he was going to stop the man. He took a breath and began to speak, vaguely able to find the lens of the camera. The words that came from him were the very same I had coached him on: “In good time, all shall come to believe and trust in us, and have faith. If they want to be saved, they must follow.”

“Everyone, huh?” Pilatus hummed, mouth twisting up. “I realize you may not have been on modern-day Earth for that long, but of course The Pastor, or your campaign manager, or anyone else working your team could have told you this: in our government, we have this thing called ‘separation of church and state.’”

Joseph cleared his throat. “That is a given, Mark.”

“Well, then, you should know that plenty of people out there may be… turned off by your rugged religious views. Especially those who practice other religions, or choose to not practice at all. So far, in my humble amount of research, mind you, I haven’t seen much of any policy from you that would attract those not immediately drawn to your character or specific views.”

Joseph leaned back, nonplussed. “That’s a lot of words just now.”

“No, I don’t mean to muddle the issue, Pastor. Can I pose it another way?”

Joseph crossed his arms and leaned into the table, eyes locked to the host. “If they don’t support me, others will. It’s as simple as that.”

Pilatus pursed his lips and nodded slowly. “You know, Joseph, Mr. Christ. You mentioned earlier this idea of a Second Coming. I’ve just heard back- my manager pulled up the verse- King James Version if that works for you-”

“Yes.”

“-and it says that he will claim Earth as his kingdom. That it will be fearful and mournful for the wicked. Who would you call the wicked in your mind? Or perhaps, his holiness’ mind? And claiming the whole Earth- that must be only figuratively, of course?”

Joseph’s face twisted up like I hadn’t seen before. He looked to the man, who similarly didn’t seem able to respond. “May we… take a pause? Edit out this part? I’d like to change the topic.”

Pilatus flapped his mouth, and then looked to the camera. “I, uh- let’s go to a commercial break, shall we? We’ll be right back with our two expectational guests… Okay, we’re off? Mr. Cummings, I’m afraid this is live.”

Joseph jerked the chair back and stood. The man followed suit, leaving the host silently in his spot. Barth and I rounded the set stage and caught up with him, his back hunched over. “What sort of a man does he think he is?” The Pastor fumed.

Second Coming: Chapter 16

The drive home found my newly-fixed car in the lead, followed by Jess in the bug, and the Agent far behind. The extra space in the yard of the Cummings estate was slowly being taken over by various vehicles of all shapes and sizes. When we pulled in, however, I noticed the nice pickup truck that I assumed to be normally used by the family was gone.

“Oh, Joseph went out to get his new suit tailored for him,” Sharon revealed to us after we settled in. “He should be back in just a short while.” The wife asked about the drive and how much the repairs had cost. I answered quickly to avoid the extra contact with Jess, who now carried with her possibly damning information. I heard her talking to her mother as I excused myself to my room.

I must have lost the time in my long-awaited return to doing proper work, as soon enough there was a knock at my door. “Jude, you there?” Came Joseph’s voice.

I stood and answered the door. “Welcome back.”

Joseph took a step back. “Got your car back, I see.”

“I did.” I replied, trying to lead him to where he was getting at.

“That’s good.” The Pastor shuffled, rubbing his hands together. “You might not be driving it much, if plans turn out the way I’m thinking, though.”

“Perhaps out in the living room, then?” I said, looking back to my glowing laptop screen.

“Oh, sure.”

Sharon, Jess, and the long-haired man were still watching TV, this time with some sort of old soap opera-looking show on. Joseph and I sat at the dinner table just inside the reach of the sound. “Well, I told you about the interview and how it was just supposed to be a quick local flight out?”

“Right, just this morning,” I concurred. “I was actually preparing a few talking points just now. I was looking into the network and how they usually conduct.”

Joseph leaned across the table slightly. “Oh, sounds like you’ve been busy.”

“Well, I’ve only just got started. But I was planning on sending it your way so you’d get it by the time you are landing.”

“Oh, well that plan is canceled, actually.” Joseph contradicted his plans he had described before I left that morning. “When I called to make reservations, I found that they might not be too friendly to our friend. They wanted an ID and everything.”

“Right…” I said, glancing to the man sitting on the ground in the next room.

“I should have told them to pick up a Bible, that’s all the ID they would have needed.”

“Well,” I spoke up, trying to break Joseph out of the obtrusive train of thought. “Georgia is still a bit of a trip…”

“But enough of a way in the direction of the DC area.” He asserted. “If we’re already up north, might as well stop there as well. We’ll take the RV.”

“So, that’s what you said about me not driving?” I asked, glancing to Sharon, who I assumed would have been listening. “But if I recall, it might be pretty packed if I come on board with everyone.”

“Just you, me, and the Good Son, Jude,” Joseph replied with a smirk. “I discussed it with the family, and while I’d love to have them along, we’d have to worry about school for Jess and this and that. Just us three.”

“I guess…”

“And we can continue to put our heads together and get the best word out to the good people,” The Pastor said, touting his big idea. “The primaries are right around the corner, and once we get the nomination, we can look to the young political talent in DC to join the campaign. Maybe even look for an office to settle down in.”

There I was, yet again in the back of the RV and staring at the assumed holy man. He wasn’t looking at me, or rather anything in particular, and I was giving it my best attempt to continue my work. Joseph was in the driver’s seat focused on the road, and I was imagining the secret-service cars following behind.

After some driving and stopping to refuel, Joseph offered me the driver’s seat for a while. While I had never driven something so massive before, he promised me that it wouldn’t actually be terribly hard. Feeling somewhat bad for making Joseph do all the driving, and hoping for the long, straight and flat southern roads, I accepted. In turn, I allowed him to look at my computer with the doc containing all the talking points and ways to expand upon them.

It wasn’t long after we had switched places and set off that Joseph joined me in the passenger seat, bringing with him my computer. “Hey, Jude.”

“Huh?”

“Heh, it’s just like that Beatles song.” He joked suddenly.

“Oh… yeah…” I remarked, too distracted by driving the beast to react to what he was saying.

“Anyways, Jude,” the Pastor continued, ready to skip to his next thought. “I like a lot of these, but some have my concerned.”

“Yeah? Like?”

“Addressing those who are still not willing to believe.” He read off. I bit my lip, already knowing he was going to focus on such a detail. “What’s that about?”

“It’s just something that I imagine they would want you to cover,” I said, holding tight to the wheel. “Political beliefs come in all shades of gray… whether people can put their trust in them or not. But… he… believing, in this case, is either black or white. Believing or not.”

I caught Joseph squinting at me out of the corner of his eye. “Lots of people are out there, doubting this obvious truth before our eyes?”

“Well,” I sighed, shifting about in the spongy driver’s seat. “Yes, a fair bit, actually.”

“Just those shameless northern states, I hope?”

“A little bit of everywhere.” I shrugged.

“I won’t answer it.” The Pastor huffed, hunching down in the seat with my laptop on his knees.

“That won’t do your image very well,” I remarked in a low voice.

Joseph slapped the faux-leather armrest, startling me enough to allow my hands to briefly leave the wheel. “The true believers will prevail, is what I’ll say,” He said indignantly. “Blessed are those who believe without seeing.”

“You might…” I spoke up, playing with the words in my head. “Joseph, perhaps not all are… blessed in the same way. Some may need… to be blessed in other ways. Some may find the blessing in not just seeing you, but… his… holiness as well.”

The pastor pursed his lips. “You are quite right.”

“We should request that he be brought on camera…” I said, remembering the plan. “Have him speak for himself, maybe…?”

Joseph put his fingers to his lips and lurched the chair about. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him looking at the man before he spoke. “My lord, would you care to join me on the television this coming morrow?”

“Yes, Joseph, I would be glad to.”

“Great,” I spoke up. “I maybe… could pass some talking points onto him as well.”

Second Coming: Chapter 15

The place where my car was being repaired was only an hour’s drive away, but I decided nonetheless to take the first leg and spare the girl the extra drive. “It’s fine, I can handle it,” Jess protested a few times reluctantly as we set off. “You just drove all the way out here yesterday after all.”

“Hey, I can’t complain,” I countered, deflecting guilt where possible, “this little bug is fun to drive.”

Jess pouted her lips and stared out the window at the passing trees. She spoke up a few minutes later as we were turning on to the highway. “My dad was reluctant at first to let me drive, but it’s not all that bad. I actually started learning by bringing us to my dad’s work- the church on Sunday mornings. Nobody on the road.”

“That’s nice,” I said, eyes on the road and hesitation on how to hold a conversation with a girl of that age.

“But,” Jess spoke up again, turning to look at me out of the corner of her eye. “It seems like if I… if we get to the White House, I won’t be able to drive anymore.”

“Oh?”

“Like, with the secret service. You always see the president in that big, heavy limo-car thing.” She gestured. “I guess they don’t want the most important person in the world getting in a crash or something.”

“That’s about the gist of it,” I said, looking in the rear-view. The highway was mostly empty, save the black sedan holding its distance behind us. In the rear-view and beyond the tinted windshield was Agent Barth, hands to the wheel unmoving.

Jess patted the sides of the car’s seat. “I’ll miss this bug if that happens… driving it too.”

I shrugged, but couldn’t conjure up any words of wisdom to make the girl feel better. She went silent and concentrated once again on the scene out the passenger window. My eyes tracked to the road, and I succumbed to the hypnosis of the dashed center line and messy patches in the asphalt.

A short time later in our journey, I caught Jess looking up at me from her seat. I didn’t care to look her way, but she finally spoke up nonetheless. “How old are you, Jude?”

“Twenty-five.”

“…Eight years…” She mumbled.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” The girl spoke up. “It doesn’t seem like you have a girlfriend or wife or anything.”

“Nah, I don’t. No luck either way.”

“Either way?”

“I’m bi.” I said with a shrug. “Big thing is, I’m not too good with relationships, so I’m single.”

“Bi?”

“As in… bisexual. Liking both boys and girls.”

“You’ll end up in hell!” Jess declared before slapping her palm over her mouth as if finding her own reaction disgusting. “I mean… that’s what some say…”

I let out a sigh, immediately recognizing what I had unleashed. “People believe plenty of things that aren’t in the scriptures.”

“My father… I don’t know… does he know?”

I shrugged again. “If he does, it wouldn’t make much difference, would it? It has nothing to do with my employment, does it?”

Jess shifted about in her seat back and forth. “Well… that’s up for him to decide… but… I’ll keep it a secret, Jude. You’re nice, and not like… those others…”

I pondered what she meant by those words, but kept my silence rather than asking her.

The first half of the journey ended and we picked up my car without any trouble. I turned over the keys to Jess looking forward to a comfortable trip back in my own car. Nature called, however, and we decided to stop in town at a local ‘greasy spoon’ as Jess called it to eat lunch. Barth followed us inside, and quietly sat at a table across from us, adding to the newly-found awkward silence.

After we placed our order, the agent stood and kicked at my foot with slight eye contact. I watched him wander outside, and I excused myself. Barth was around the corner leaning against the side of the building. “Funny how this played out, we can have some time away from the rest of the family to discuss the plan moving forward. I’m thinking about involving the girl, too. She’s shown discomfort with the target as well. Perhaps her father will listen to her more than anyone else. I bet if we convince her to-”

“Whoa, slow down,” I spoke up, scanning the lot for any onlookers. “I think we need to go one step at a time.”

“Getting her by herself again like this won’t be easy under the Cummings roof,” Barth suggested. “But it seems she trusts you, or something of the like.”

“Hard to say now.” I frowned. “I kind of… came out to her.”

“As in… coming out as a gay man?”

“I identify as bi…” I paused, passing the suited man a judging glance. “How did you-?”

“You went in to donate blood once, and answered on the questionnaire that you had experienced sexual contact with-”

“Okay, okay, keep your voice down. Look, it just came out in casual conversation.”

Barth frowned. “And you’re afraid now that the girl is going to out you to her father? None of his preachings has ever indicated particular feelings for or against the LGBT community.”

I peeked around the corner, glancing in the window for our table. “Well, the best thing to do is to leave the girl out of it. If she doesn’t like the thought of me working with you and against her father, she has ammunition to turn it back on me. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Sure.”

After taking in Barth’s plan, I slithered back into the restaurant, leaving the suited man to return at his own pace. Jess was already eating. I finished my own food in silence, offering only a few glances across the table at her.