Second Coming: Chapter 9

Despite showing off every form of identity I had on me, including email from the pastor on my phone, the men were insistent I had no relation to Joseph or the campaign. It must have been twenty minutes that I was in their custody and held sitting against the back of one of their cars when someone came looking for me. It was, unfortunately, Jess, who was immediately panicked.

“Ms. Cummings, do not go anywhere. We’re here for your father’s sake.” The lead agent spoke up to her, approaching her with hand out from across the parking lot. She found the door locked and inoperable and began to run back around to the main entrance of the church, from which people were already leaving. Not a short time after, Joseph himself finally made his way outside.

“Can I ask what may be happening here?” He said, approaching with his wife and daughter, the man, as well as Pastor Sim.

“Joseph Cummings,” The lead agent spoke to him, the leather badge holder in his hand and presented outward. “Please don’t be alarmed. We’re here to serve you.”

“Under what power?”

“They say they’re with the service.” I spoke up. I was treated to a nudge from one of the other agent’s shoulders.

Joseph eyed me warily before furrowing his brow. “Well, at this time I’d like it if you’d release my campaign manager.”

The agent holding me back suddenly pulled on my shoulder to return me up off the black sedan and to my feet. “My apologies,” he mumbled. I shook my head at him and rejoined Joseph. Sharon pulled me along with her and looked at my wrists.

“They didn’t cuff you did they? Or hit you? Call you… the word?” The woman whispered, looking me earnestly in the eyes. “You know, we hear about… hate crimes these days, and The Pastor wanted to make sure that’s part of his platform.”

“None of that, ma’am,” I said, shaking my head. I looked at Joseph, who was already face-to-face with the suited agent, his face quite serious.

“Secret Service, are you? Didn’t realize that your office had a duty to candidates so early in the process. Jude here isn’t fully registered as being in my employment yet, haven’t had a chance to get in the tax forms.” He explained to the attentive agent. “You don’t have contacts with the IRS do you?”

“No, Mr. Cummings.” The agent sighed defeated. He glanced at me as I returned by Joseph’s side. “Once again, we were at fault. But we’ve come for a reason. Allow me to introduce myself… properly- I’m agent Barth with the Secret Service. Mr. Cummings, your campaign for president has gotten a lot of attention recently, and the service has deemed it necessary that you are accompanied.”

Joseph tapped pensively at his cheek. “…And if I decline?”

I jumped and looked at Joseph. “Joseph, let’s take this into-”

“Once again, I kid.” The Pastor laughed. “Perhaps I should have said that ‘the grace of God would protect us.’ No, your jobs are quite important. Honestly, I didn’t know we’d be gaining… what do you call it… an entorage?”

“An entourage,” Jess spoke up.

“Right.” Joseph nodded. “How does this work? We go, and you follow?”

Agent Barth adjusted the ear-piece wire hanging down beside his neck. “You’ll have to let us know where your next stop is, and when. Some of us will head there to stake it out, and the rest will stay back and accompany you.”

Pastor Sim stepped into the fray, swaying his hands back and forth as if trying to amass the whole of us into a single spot. “Well, let’s get out of this parking lot and take our time sorting these things out.”

Joseph snapped his finger and nodded. “You make a good point. Lead on.”

Agent Barth spoke into his headset, and the others about them pushed their fingers to their ears to listen in. The lead agent spoke to Joseph as we went back around into the front of the mega-church. “Our arrival today is actually not simply on your accord, Mr. Cummings.”

“Is that so?” He said, glancing at the suited man. “Is there someone else here of importance?”

“That is so, Mr. Cummings, but he told us to not inform you directly of his arrival, as he wanted to make it… a surprise.”

“Well, then I can only assume that the surprise will be present,” Joseph boasted.

Ahead by the front doors, there was another pair of suited agents. Barth nodded at them as we passed, but I could see Sharon and Jess eying them the same as myself as we passed by and into the double doors. The still mysterious long-haired man, however, had neither been looked at nor questioned by a single person.

There were other agents about the main hall of the church, and all but one of the attendees from that morning was there sitting in the pews. He was dressed in a navy blazer and slacks and perked up as soon as our group entered. I immediately recognized his face, as did the rest of the family.

Joseph and the surprise visitor approached each other. “Mr. Vice President.” The Pastor remarked, hiding the contempt he had spoken of before regarding the man. They shook each other’s hands in vigorous motions.

“Joseph Cummings,” Caine spoke in a delighted tone, “I might be breaking tradition here, but I had to meet my political opponent, especially with all the buzz about him.”

“Well,” Joseph hummed, “I’d say I’ve had to rise above the buzzing and focus on moving forward as usual. But I am certainly surprised to hear that you consider me a proper opponent.”

Caine chuckled. “Well, I would be lying if I said I came out all this way to simply fraternize with the enemy. Your peculiar company has intrigued me.” I saw the VP’s eyes train on the long-haired man. Joseph recognized the gesture immediately and ushered him forward.

“I’m surprised I didn’t spot you in the crowd this morning,” Joseph said, allowing the man and Caine to shake hands.

Cain pointed up to one of the private booths on the second level. “I was actually up that way. Let me tell you… I think I’m beginning to become a true believer. Not just in the Jesus I thought I knew, but as well the one here before us in the flesh.”

Pastor Sim intervened between the two men. “Shall we all go for a walk about the building while we speak? I assume that will suffice for our secret service friends?”

Second Coming: Chapter 8

The dug-up video had trended across the political hashtag spectrum for two whole days, and from there the story rolled, expectedly through the news with a refreshed vigor. Before the end of that week, Joseph had organized two more rallies; one in Mississippi, and one in East Texas. More and more, I felt my responsibilities as campaign manager fade away, but it seemed like Joseph was attempting to keep me in the loop nonetheless.

That Thursday, we departed the gates, pushing aside the crowd at the entrance of the Pastor’s manor with the help of the local sheriff. It was much like Tallahassee, with the family and the man in the big RV, and me trailing behind in my own car. Let me add that this particular journey was one of my first time out of my home state, save a high-school trip to Washington D.C. one year. Watching the back of the gaudy RV and its novelty license plate in front of me for much of the journey offered to me the revelation that had been building up inside me for some time; I was being led into the unknown, tailing something massive and ridiculous. Even more than that, there was no hope in turning back at that point.

After a few stops and several hours later, we arrived in the town where the rally was going to be held. It was fairly late when we finally settled in a place that would allow us to park the massive RV, and by that time, I realized that neither myself nor the family had put thought into where I was going to sleep. With no other apparent and cheap options, I made due in the back seat of my car that night. At the very least, they offered to let me use the shower in the RV the next morning.

The venue there in the medium-sized Mississippi town was a high-school football stadium. I had heard mumblings of Joseph practicing parts of a speech all that morning. At that same time, I managed to apply myself in researching the area’s demographics and economic standings so to provide a list of talking points for the Pastor- not that he chose to use them that afternoon. Instead, he chose to parade the presence of his trump card around, speak in bible verses, and praising the heavens. The crowd ate it up as expected, and we left with likely a good amount of new votes in our favor. Despite a few strange looks my way from some of the staff and attendees, I felt like the whole event went well.

In the times in between traveling, I caught Joseph conversing and confiding with the man. Let me go into detail- since that man’s arrival… unto us, he had not changed clothes, bathed, eaten, or likely slept, based on what I had seen. Even if this meant what Joseph and the others believed was true, it didn’t make me any less wary of him. The man spoke simply and yet fluently, although he seemed more content with listening most times. Wherever he was or whatever he was doing, I had yet found the charity to feel at ease around him the way the others did.

Despite Joseph’s assurance in both the campaign and the man, after the rally that weekend I began to suspect Joseph of being stuck silently in a moral bind. While the man’s true nature us was still something I had yet to be able to explain, no more divine- flashy, you might say- feats had been attempted by him. While something of the sort might have cemented the man as who he was claimed to be, I believed that Joseph was avoiding asking him to do such things for the crowds. Whether out of respect for the holy figure, or respect for his own faith, it was impossible to tell. Neither did the man confront me about my asking of him to turn water into wine.

That Saturday afternoon, we departed for the even longer journey to East Texas, not far from Houston. After the long haul and unnecessary strain on my again car, I was relieved to find that we had lodging arranged for us that night. At the same time, I was surprised to find that it was inside what could only be called a ‘megachurch,’ the likes of which I had only heard about in biting news reports on their questionable altruistic nature. Not unforeseen at that point was that the individual that had invited us was none other than the head pastor, a white man by the name of Peter Sim.

It seemed as if our host foresaw our exact time off arrival that night, although looking back it was likely the Pastor or his wife calling ahead. He was greeting the family outside the RV by the time I had jumped out of my car after them. It wasn’t long before he was knelt before the man, speaking lowly and kissing the man’s hands. I replaced such images in my head by taking in the church, it being as massive and as lavish as I expected. We were soon allowed to move to our rooms for the night inside of the church itself. They were dorm-style, but I was allowed my own space. In the one next door was the family, with the man himself of course.

The second morning church service the next day was partially dedicated to Joseph and the campaign. We were backstage while Pastor Sim went about what was likely his normal introduction, including passing around baskets that became quickly laden with tithes. Although I had no previous experience with the particular service, I felt it building toward introducing Joseph.

“You all are versed in the power of Jesus, and I know all you folk praise his presence every day. And you may have heard the news of his presence coming ever closer to us. You may have heard the name of the man who has facilitated that proximity, the intimate closeness of his graces. That man hopes to take that grace he has earned and use it to make this country- the United States of America- into the greatest country in the world, just as it should be- blessed by God himself. And today, I have brought that man- Joseph Cummings- here, and with him, the Son, in flesh and bone.”

The vast pews of people around the shiny wood of the center stage clapped and hummed with excitement. Joseph and the man pushed past the curtain and out to Pastor Sim. Joseph waived out to the crowd and took a stand beside the podium. He had no notes or direction from me at that point, as he was ready to say the same things he had already said plenty of times before.

After nearly a half-hour of grandstanding, introducing his wife and daughter, parading his holiness, and passing messages of hope, faith, and defeating the political opposition, Pastor Sim and Joseph began to wind down the service. I sneaked out early and went back to grab my phone charger from my car in the far back lot next to the RV. To my surprise, though, two dark sedans with tinted windows were parked to either side of the long vehicle. A man stepped out as I approached. I held still as more exited the cars, effectively keeping me from coming any closer.

“State your identity.” The first man, in dark suit and sunglasses, called out to me. I looked back for the door which had closed behind me.

“You’re not security with the church, are you?”

“No, sir, we’re with the secret service. I need to confirm your identity, now.”

Second Coming: Chapter 6

I returned to consciousness the following day in the same, messed-up reality, and certainty way too early for what should have been a relaxing Sunday. I followed the smell of decaf to the rear of the first floor, where I discovered a den of sorts, nicely but somehow gaudily decorated with crucifixes, artwork of religious appeal, and bookshelves of well-used and faux-leather bound texts. Among the artwork of Jesus was his dead-ringer, in full flesh, accompanied of course by The Pastor.

“Good morning, you’re right on time.” Joseph looked up to me from his papers upon a simple wooden lectern. Jess came in through the doorway just after me with a phone tripod in her hands. Joseph adjusted himself and the stiff shoulders of his blazer jacket as his daughter took his phone and prepared it for the broadcast.

“You work fast, Joseph.” I spoke up.

He tapped his papers confidently and winked at me. “Indeed. Perhaps it’s just ingrained in me- Sundays and putting out my best, that is. Just you listen. Jess are we ready to roll out?”

“As soon as I hit the button.” She nodded, poking her head out to the face of the phone screen. I pulled myself away, looking to make sure that both myself and the strange man were out of the view of the camera.

The Pastor began with a clap of his hands. “Good morning, those congregated in the hallowed halls, and those who have come to join us virtually. While still away from you on this blessed day of the lord, I am in fact closer than you may think. I’m aware that my following, both spiritually and politically has grown as of recent. Some of you may… fall into both categories. In fact, recent events may have reached your ears already. Such news is the reason for making sure I was able to reach out to you personally this morning. And even as I have denounced much of the media as liars and false prophets, know that even a stopped clock is correct twice a day.

What I mean to say to you… is that something unparalleled… divine has descended upon us. Depending on what you have seen, you may have thought that such a record was edited, extenuated, even fabricated. But I bring you news today that, despite all of your misgivings, God himself has nevertheless proved himself as good as we all truly believe. Proper believers have always been aware of his watchful eye and providence, but today, I will show you the greatness that he hath provided for us once again, in our lifetimes no less. What he has given to us will not only forward our campaign for the presidency, but will provide the means to show that we are the chosen ones, the same as Mother Mary herself .”

Joseph’s eyes danced about the room wildly, his breath heavy. He looked to me, then to the strange man, locking eyes as if to ask him to come forward. “Once at the right hand of his father, the holy spirit, now he has been reborn here on Earth. Whatever you may have seen on the television… a bright, divine light, unyielding… a figure descending upon us… I can place my hand upon this very Bible and swear that it is the truth. He hath come again, Jesus Christ!”

The man walked forward before the camera, and Joseph placed his hands upon the figure’s white-clad shoulders. I felt my palms begin to sweat with the desire of pulling the man back out of view, or tossing down the tripod, or simply whispering in Joseph’s ear to tone down his message. At the same time, I felt powerless, not powerless as man is to God, but powerless as an individual is among a sea of others.

Joseph’s eyes were fixed to the cell screen showing the live feed of himself and the man. “All along, I knew the lord would give me power, the insight and wherewithal to bring this campaign to The White House, and from Washington, lead this country to a better place. From my wonderful supporting family, an insightful Campaign Manager whom I told you all about the week previous, to the man himself- who I have decided to name my running mate!”

My breath caught in my throat as I heard these words. I nearly jumped in and pulled both of them out of the way, when the landline rang, echoing from the various locations about the house.  Jess ducked to the side to grab up the silenced handset just out of view of the camera and answered it in a low voice. Joseph flashed an annoyed face as the daughter attempted to leave the room, only to stop in place.

“Dad-” She said, jutting back around.

“Is there something the matter?”

The teen tapped on a button on the face of the phone, and a voice began speaking through the handset. “Joseph, are you there?”

“Hank, is it?”

“I’m really, truly sorry, Pastor.” The voice said lowly. “It seems like we had a huge spike in visitors. Seems like… the server crashed.”

“I don’t speak any of that technical stuff.” Joseph huffed, pulling himself closer to the phone. “What do you mean?”

“The website is broken, down. We lost the feed here at the church, too. Father August is filling time, but I don’t know if I can get it back up before the end of the time slot.”

Joseph sighed and rubbed his face, noticeably red and slightly shiny with sweat. “How much did you get?” he asked defeatedly.

“Up until… you brought in… the other fellow.”

“Humph-”

“Though, Joseph, err, Mr. Cummings…” The man apparently called Hank, spoke up again, hesitantly. “Is that really… who I think it is? That man?”

Joseph clicked his tongue and hummed with a teasing tone. “Do you have faith that it is, Hank?”

“Ohhh shoot, Mr. Cummings,” The man seemed to rattle with excitement over the phone.

“Get that website stuff working for me, will ya, Hank?”

“Right on it, Pastor.”

Jess hung up the call and sighed before exiting the room with the phone in hand. I found my breath finally returning to my chest as well. Before Joseph could post himself back before the tripod, I grabbed his arm. “Good show, Joseph, but-”

“Something wrong?” The pastor asked, eyebrow to the ceiling.

“Announcing a running mate… this early in the game…”

“Nothing wrong with it, is there?”

“Timing, no. But… there are certain things… requirements for vice president. Age, citizenship…”

Joseph’s face twisted up pensively, before offering a glance to the man. “I suppose we can sort out those things eventually.”

“Indeed, possibly…”

“Thank you,” Joseph began, landing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “for keeping me on track. I’m just getting ahead of myself with all these things happening. And that’s why you’re already two steps ahead, right?”