Second Coming: Chapter 4

Our flight from the plaza began as the crowd came about to what had happened, or supposedly happened, as I was still in disbelief from what had just appeared in front of my eyes. As the phones came out and the news cameras readjusted, I tugged on Joseph’s sleeve, prompting as well the attention of the freshly descended man, “We need to leave. Now.”

While Mayor Malcolm was left to calm the rabble, Joseph and his family, plus the man, departed in the car, with me shortly after them in my own. When I returned to the RV in the parking lot of the department store, they had already unloaded and headed inside. I was calling the pastor’s name as I pushed my way inside, but something was already afoot. In the cramped aisle of the long vehicle, the long-haired and bearded and cloth-draped man was already scanning the family one by one. “Joseph…” I heard his voice for the first time, calm, deep, refreshing, and somehow unsettling. “Sharon… Jess…” He continued.

“And my campaign manager, Jude.” Joseph spoke up. “Join us for this divine meeting, my good man.”

The man looked to me, and I felt the urge to push myself up against the counter. “Campaign Manager Jude.” His eyes met mine, gazing, studying, and I felt both great unease and lightness.

“It’s a pleasure-” I blurted out, nodding the man out of my vision. “Joseph, I don’t think… I’m pretty sure we ought to make a move here.”

Joseph’s temporary aura of serenity broke. “What for?” He said with a tilting of his head.

“I’d suppose… we just drew more attention that just about anyone could have hoped for.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

I rubbed my hands back and forth, peering over my shoulder at the busy road next to us. A few cars began to pull into the parking lot, heading for an unknown destination. I held my breath and turned back to Joseph, catching sight briefly of the man still standing uncomfortably close. “I have no doubt as to… the divinity we’ve just witnessed, but you know as good as anyone… that others will seek it out.”

Joseph hummed, hand to his chin. “Rightfully so.”

“We’ve had the RV here for a week… Those who wish to come for it…”

“Campaign Manager Jude speaks words of wisdom.” The man interjected with great peace in his voice. “As I have just set foot upon this land once again as a man, I find myself restrained to the adequacies of mortality. My father’s divinity will take time to flow within me once again.”

Joseph dropped his head and took a long stride to kneel before the man, taking the stranger’s hand within his own grasp and touching it to his lips. “My deepest apologies, your holiness.”

I pulled myself away from the scene and stepped down the steps to the door. Outside was a mat of fake grass, a collection of plastic folding chairs, and other cheap remnants of urban camping. “We’d best clean up and move out. Sooner than later.”

Sharon stepped down after me. “That’s no problem, but where do we go?”

I sighed and pondered, looking out again to the parking lot. “There’s a bit of a lot near my apartment complex…”

The RV was no less conspicuous in its new spot, but at the very least, it was away from its previous location at the front of a busy road. My apartment was far from clean, but somehow doing anything short of inviting the family and the man in felt blasphemous. My couch was far too small for the entire family to sit, but it seemed that the man was completely happy standing and staring at my various pieces of furniture and electronics. “I can make coffee… no decaf I’m afraid… tea?” I spoke up, attempting to break the silence.

Sharon pushed herself up, out from between her daughter and Joseph. “Oh, let me help you with that! You’ve already offered up your place for us!”

“I’m just going to boil some…”

“Nonsense.” She interrupted, nearly shoving her way past me into my tight kitchen.

I joined her around the corner. “I don’t really have a kettle, so any of those pans down there will have to do…” I said, pointing to a lower cabinet. “Uh… all I’ve got is tap water, too. Let’s see… green tea? Where was that…?”

I turned to search the high reaches of one of the upper cupboards while Sharon clattered around down below. “This is it, isn’t it?” She said with a low, heavy breath.

“Oh, well any one of those should be fine…” I said, not caring to look.

“No, not the pan-” She whispered, tugging at my shoulder. She huffed anxiously, panhandle dangling in her opposite hand. “This is how we get to Washington. We have been blessed this day by heaven’s grace itself.”

I bit my lip and nodded before returning to my search for the ancient teabags somewhere back in my storage. “Something quite unique has befallen us today, you’re correct.”

It was just past noon when the call arrived from my parent’s landline, interrupting a silent hands-held-in-a-ring prayer between the family and the strange man. I pulled myself away from the situation to answer. “Hello?”

“Jude, boy, you gotta turn on the news.” My mother spoke frantically to me.

“You know I don’t have cable here…”

“Oh, you mussa’ been there, at the plaza this morning…”

“I know exactly where this is going.”

I caught Joseph staring at me from across the room, having pulled himself away from his inner monologue. “Jude, is there something we should know about?”

I held the phone away from my ear and hovered my finger over the microphone button. “Mom, I’m putting you on speaker. The Pastor and his family are here with me.”

“Good day to you Mrs. Jackson.” Sharon spoke up.

“Oh lord, you folks. The news is saying some crazy things, ya’ll,” My mother huffed. In the background, I could hear the reporter spouting out a haughty description of the events at the Plaza. “They are sayin’… Jesus Christ himself descended upon us… descended upon you. The cameras an’ all… I’ve seen the light, I’ve seen the light y’all. Pray to God they aren’t taking us for fools.”

Joseph cleared his throat and lowered his head near the speaker of my phone. “No, Ma’am, what you see and hear is the truth, just as true as the scriptures themselves. The lord has presented for us, for the Cummings family, and for America herself… his own flesh and blood.”

I glanced at the stranger, who was standing quite still, eyes closed and listening intently. A heavy breathing came through the phone, followed by my father’s voice. “Jude? Jude, and Joe, you too… well, you don’t need no blessin’, do ya’? Listen ya’ll, we gotta get the word out.”

“Dad, believe me, the word is out-”

“Promise me…” My mother spoke up again, her breath heavy. “I’ll get a seat at the inauguration.”

“You bet’cha, Ma’am.” Joseph hummed, straightening his back.

I looked to the window, double-checking nobody had somehow tracked us. I looked to my phone again, which was still connected and broadcasting the sound of the television at the opposite end of the line. “Mom, I might be heading out of town for a bit. I’ll leave you the mail key so you can pick up my bills- I’ll leave a check too, for the landlord if I’m not back by the end of the month. I’ve got to go-”

Joseph tilted his head at me while I hung up. “We’d best be getting out of town, then, huh?”

I shoved the phone in my pocket and bit my lip, deciding on how to ask the question in my mind. “I… wouldn’t suppose your place back home could accommodate a few people? At least your Campaign Manager, that is?”

Second Coming: Chapter 3

I had been able to workshop a few slogans and platform bases with The Pastor over email and the phone that week. The next time I saw him in person was that Saturday morning, out at the concrete parking pad just between the park and the plaza where the rally was taking place. They had come by car, and the volunteers that were likely brought in by the Mayor’s office had already set up plastic barriers, taped-off areas, and most importantly, a podium with a microphone and speaker system.

I was nearly blocked off from entering by one of the begrudgingly accommodating individuals who was dressed in a shirt matching the small sea of others. Sharon was able to push through and waive disarmingly at the helper and allow me through. “This fine young black man is actually our campaign manager.” She offered in a slow drawl. “You’d never guess it, though, huh? Come now, Jude, The Pastor is probably looking forward to seeing you.”

I was brought into the fray, where Joseph was calmly looking over his note cards. He was in a nice suit, which seemed slightly cold for the day, but looked as presentable as anyone could have been. “Ah, Jude! Late, are you?” He said while slapping my shoulder. “Kidding, son. We always show up everywhere a good bit early.”

I looked to his daughter, who was dressed in a coat, with her hands shoved tiredly under her arms for warmth. She forced out a smile to me as her eyes caught mine. I turned back to Joseph after a glance about the venue. “Malcolm must have been up even earlier. He’s done good for you.”

Joseph puffed out his chest and put each hand to his waist. “Good man, he is. Might see him. Plenty of people out this morning, too. I feel good about this.”

I nodded, knowing fully well that the farmer’s market a few blocks over was the cause of the occupied parking spots in the area. Nevertheless, I saw a few older folks waiting by the yet unopened blockades into the plaza. Joseph’s slow, even breaths of condensation gave a sense of confidence, but I couldn’t help feel the second-hand anxiety about him being up before a crowd of people- big or small we had yet to see- and spouting out a speech I had yet to hear in full. “I may be out of place asking this…” I spoke up.

“Oh? What’s worrying you?”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” I said with a shake of my head. “I just… this must be quite a different experience from speaking to your parish.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Joseph hummed, rubbing at his chin. “Those faithful will come before us today. That is the constant.”

Sharon came up and hung to her husband’s shoulder. “It’s a beautiful speech we’ve prepared. Joseph was practicing it for us last night.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Oh, and look.” Joseph perked up suddenly, jutting a finger to the street bordering the far end of the plaza. A white van with the emblem of the local news station had pulled up and slid open their door. “The word had been properly spread. That reminds me, Jude.”

“Oh?”

“Jess, would you?” Joseph said back to his daughter who pulled something off the ground and brought it forward. “Here we go.”

Into my hands was shoved a black zip-up pouch, and inside, a fancy, seemingly unused DSLR camera. “What’s this for?”

Sharon held her hands up like a movie director framing the scene and turned herself toward her husband. “As a campaign manager, we assumed you may want to create some sort of… campaign video for the Pastor.”

“Oh…”

Joseph nodded. “A young person like you ought to have no problems with that, right? Care to capture the speech?”

I examined the cryptic runes around the shutter button of the camera while nodding like I understood them perfectly. “I’ll definitely get your good side, sir.”

“5 minutes ’till the gates open!” A volunteer shouted.

Mayor Malcolm, who had arrived just moments before, welcomed the people as they settled into the vast open space of the plaza. The number, to be honest, surprised even me, including the presence of some college-aged people. “Good morning, good morning,” he began. “Happy new year to you all. The Election year is upon us once again. As your Mayor, I have spent much time and energy for the betterment of this city, and today, I hope to introduce a man who will do unto the country the very same. It’s not often I feel so confident in any one political figure, but after talking with this man- Joseph Cummings- I knew that he would be the one to go all the way to Washington, a proud Floridian, and someone who grew up around these parts. Without further ado, the man of the hour.”

Joseph shook hands with the Mayor ceremoniously and they exchanged places. The crowd hummed and cheered and clapped their hands. As I scanned the people who were obviously already firm in their belief of The Pastor’s prowess, then to the news cameras pointed up at the podium, I remembered my own camera in my hands, not yet rolling.

“Proud followers of this cause… I welcome you!” Joseph began, his fingers dancing out before him. The hum of voices grew like a wave, before crashing back down onto the shore. I set the camera to record video and focused on his side before stepping carefully down the stairs to get a better focus on the Pastor’s face. He licked his lips before continuing. “The two most powerful forces in this country today are politics… and religion- for reasons that without them, we would be faced only with anarchy. From the first time I stepped up to the pulpit at the church that has long since heard many of my sermons, and looked out at all the faces among the pews, I could see nothing but sheep… grantedly safe inside their flock, but nevertheless desiring… and needing… order from a higher power. And you know what? I am not that higher power.”

This line brought out a few stifled hums and huffs. His words were confident, but I hoped dearly the content was going to shortly bring out more excitement. I redirected the camera and walked about, attempting a different angle. I took an angle aimed at Joseph’s back, taking in his proud figure and neat suit. In the background was the crowd looking eagerly up at him. In that moment, I was slightly more proud of myself for getting such a shot than anything else.

Joseph’s shoulders rose as it seemed he was shuffling through his note cards. He spoke up again, “Not even in the most powerful country in the world, The United States, could someone like the president be considered the highest power… But, of course… you all know whom that title belongs to.” With a pause, he pointed his finger up to the sky. The crowd hummed, and a singular whistle rang out.

“There is a certain… calling that is answered when you take the role of Pastor… a call from that higher power… HIS higher power. Asking you to do good by him. And for many years now, I have done the absolute goodest by him, no matter what. Through recessions, social strife… hurricanes! Dishonest, unbelieving, liberal presidents!” An ebb of boos rippled about. “It’s been not only me, but all of you as well, who have risen above it all, with the power of the good Lord Jesus Christ flowing through your bodies!”

I felt the speech devolving, but alas, the crowd was nevertheless eating it up. A hum arose again, louder than before. Through the viewfinder of the camera, I caught Joseph looking up to the sky as if channeling some sort of power. The sound grew worse, inhuman. Fearing some sort of electrical power surge or strange plane flying above, I pulled my eyes from the viewfinder of the camera and looked to the sky.

I felt myself blinded as my eyes turned skyward. A bright light had overtaken the plaza, even brighter than the low winter sun to our rear. The members of the crowd cried and bellowed. As I blinked the bright spot from my eyes, I caught sight of Joseph, arms held high to the sky, as if it were he himself inviting it. His daughter and wife clung to each other not far behind him. His voice suddenly called out again over the loudspeakers. “Regard, he has come forth!”

Regard I did, a figure indeed coming forth from the epicenter of the light upon the plaza, between the news cameras and the crowd. The man resembled the same figure that one might see in the stained glass of a church window, a renaissance painting, or print on the top of one’s grandmother’s mantle; long-haired and bearded, slim, taught, and dressed in flowing tan robes. The light dissipated, but the man remained, commencing to come forth up the stairs and toward the Pastor.

“The Lord himself hath granted me this day a miracle! He hath delivered upon me, upon us, once again his flesh and blood, his son- his second coming!”

Second Coming: Chapter 2

“What? Are you kidding me, you can’t get much better than that in times like these.” My boss bounced around his office after hearing of my half-hearted desire to take the Pastor up on his offer.

“I can’t see it going anywhere, though, to be honest.”

“And what if it does?” He asked, leaning across his desk to me. “Let’s say Joseph Cummings doesn’t get past the primary- lots of secondary candidates and their staffers get scouted by the opposition and have work all the way until election day. And after that, you never know.”

“Well, I was hoping you would offer the job back if Joseph did drop out…”

“I would, but why would you stop yourself there?”

“Because it’s nice here.”

He shook his head. “I know you’re not that lazy. Look- if you don’t take this, I’m firing you and you’ll have no choice. We don’t deserve you. Get more than this tiny no-name organization on your resume.”

“But-”

“But nothing. What kind of cake do you like? We’ll have to have you a going-away party. Tomorrow, even. The election year is here! Let me shoot out an email.”

The boss sat down to begin typing away, while I dug my phone out of my pocket to bring up the phone number I had gotten previously. It began ringing as I stepped outside of the building and began walking to my car. “You’ve reached the office of Pastor Joseph Cummings, Presidential hopeful, Sharon Cummings speaking.”

“Hey… this is Jude… Jackson.” I said.

A long pause made me double-check my phone to see if the call had been disconnected. “Let me transfer you to Joseph himself,” she replied suddenly.

Joseph’s voice came to my ear before I could make any other sound. “Jude, is it? Can… I take it you’ve made up your mind?”

“If the offer still stands…” I said, swallowing hard, “I’d like to accept.”

“Good man.” The pastor replied in a rambunctious voice. “You’re lucky, we decided to stick around in Tallahassee here, actually. Is there any way you could come by? I’d love to formalize a few things.”

“Uh, well…” I said, looking back to the cramped building that held my nearly former job. “My boss was actually quite fine with the idea of… me finding greener pastures. I doubt I’ll have any work lined up for me the rest of the day here, so about… three?”

“Perfect. We’re not going anywhere, so whenever it’s convenient for you.” Joseph hummed. “We’re at 1077 7th Ave- you can’t miss us.”

“7th is… are you across from the department store?”

“Close enough to it. Just keep an eye out.”

I ducked out of work early that day with the promise of a going away party the following day. At the address I was given, Joseph’s warning of not being able to miss him was true as day. The big vinyl campaign signs were strung up facing the road, and behind them in the parking lot of the store was their RV, with a profile of the Pastor’s face pasted on in decals.

After parking nearby, I neared the row of spots the vehicle took up. I caught sight of Joseph’s daughter peering down at me through the window. The man himself was quick to arrive at the door the same time to greet me. “Well, seems you found us just fine.”

“It’s a pleasure, once again,” I said, looking up the narrow stairs to the inside, and down to the welcome mat on the asphalt. I brushed off my feet and followed the Pastor up and inside.

“Excuse the mess,” Joseph noted, to which there was barely. The space was obviously lived in, with kitchen set up with dishes and pots, bed at the far end made as neatly as the space allowed, and laptops and documents on the fold-up tables. The teenage daughter, whose name I recalled to be Jess, blinked shyly at me. Sharon, whose name I had heard on the phone earlier, was standing ready to greet me.

“So great you could join this cause- our cause.” She smiled with pursed lips. “Have a seat anywhere.”

I obliged and found myself on one of the hard foam cushions at the dinner-seeming area. Jess picked up a smaller laptop and took it with her to the passenger seat at the front of the vehicle. Joseph sat opposite me.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Joseph stared into my eyes. “No, we won’t make you sleep on the pull-out.” He said with a slight chuckle. “In all seriousness, it’s quite nice, isn’t it? The RV really is just the thing for our current endeavors. Coming in handy too, already- we didn’t expect to be out there this long, but we made a few connections locally after coming by your place. God bless.”

I attempted my best coy smile. “Well, I found your parish online. It’s only a two-hour drive to where you’re at, right? For… such a job, it would have not been such a long way for me to move.”

“Oh ho ho,” Joseph smirked. He looked back to his wife, who had pulled out a stapled packet of papers from a plastic file tote otherwise packed full. “Like I said, we had more than one opportunity. If you’d be so kind, you can fill out the bits of this contract and the tax form so you may begin working for me earnestly, my boy.”

The packet was slid my way, followed by a pen. I flipped through and glanced at the pages of what seemed like a regular employment agreement, then began to fill out the fields. Joseph cleared his throat and spoke up. “Perfect. As my brand new campaign manager, I suppose… we’d have to discuss what comes next. You see, your Mayor Malcolm here has graciously organized a rally for us. This weekend, in fact.”

“That’s perfect.” I nodded, flipping through the remaining pages. “I’ve never met the man, but having someone like him offer his support is certainly something.”

“It’s in the plaza downtown. Across from the University, so I suppose you know it.”

I scanned the last few bits for anything I had missed, then plopped down the pen. “It almost sounds as if you don’t need me at all,” I said with a chuckle.

Joseph raised an eyebrow to me. “Oh, well I think we certainly do.  I looked at the data online, and the number of young folk like you, university students, and the such, are not so hot on going to church and the like.”

“I promise you, it’s not out of spite of god, just the desire to catch up on sleep during the weekends,” I said, leaning back against the uncomfortable backrest. Joseph crossed his arms and frowned while staring off into space. I leaned forward, preparing myself to speak up. “But, as your campaign manager, I can certainly workshop something with you to rouse them this weekend. Do you have any talking points you’d like to present? I’ve had a great deal of practice with public speaking.”

Joseph’s face finally reverted to its positive glow. “Well, you don’t have to sell yourself, you’re already hired, Jude. But here I am counting on your already. I have more than a few things I’d like to say. It’s our first proper rally outside of the home town, so we gotta give it our all.”

“No doubt,” I said, drumming my fingers on the table.

Sharon stepped up beside the table, her hands at her waist. “Mr. Cummings has been writing his own sermons for a good many years now. He’s no stranger to rousing a crowd. Coffee?”

“No thank you,” I said, smiling slightly up at the wavy salt-and-pepper haired woman.

“And Mrs. Cummings has been making her wonderful coffee a good many years now,” Joseph spoke up, wiggling his nose at his wife. “Decaf, of course, but I wouldn’t be doing any rousing without it nonetheless.”

“…Perhaps I shall take some of that, then,” I said, watching as the woman perked up and made the two steps across the aisle of the RV to the drip brewer on the opposite counter. “Mr. Cummings, you know…”

“Joseph is just fine, my boy.”

“Joseph.” I echoed his words. I glanced once again at the now signed papers and pushed them out of the way of my elbows. “I’d say, to begin with, we need to attract the right people. There are a good many conservative voters here in this area already, religious folk too. But if you’re after the younger voters, I think that focusing on the issues, especially the economy and the environment, is going to get you the most traction.”

Joseph tilted his head away from me and to the laptop screen beside him before saying with a sigh, “Issues, huh.”

“We’ll have time to built a platform on all these things, but the basic things you could focus on are the deficit, student debt, the climate… first amendment rights are always a good way to go too.” I finished my list and caught sight of Joseph’s eye’s glazing over. The coffee maker guzzled in the background in the awkward silence. “Hmm, to narrow things down, we can look into the areas that Randy Caine are excelling in, and see if we can’t counter him and win over a few voters from him.”

“Randy Caine.” Joseph sat up. I even saw Sharon jump slightly as she set aside a pair of coffee cups from the cabinet. “That man is a heathen.” Caine was the incumbent vice president, running on the same ticket, and would be our biggest competitor. Last I had checked at that point was that he was leading the polls up in the north. “If there’s anything I can do, It’d be to make sure that man doesn’t end up in office again,” Joseph said, a slight energy returning to him.

Sharon jostled my elbows that I had propped up on the edge of the table. “Manners, Jude,” she declared as she brought by the dark, cloudy cups.

“My apologies.” I hummed, feeling the warmth of the contents in my hand. “It may be a lot to think about, Joseph. I’d say, perhaps, try to tackle the rally this weekend in the way you best see fit. Nothing wrong with the people seeing who you really are.”

Joseph returned to a tight-lipped smile to face me. “I can’t argue with that,” he hummed, dragging the finished contact across the table to himself. “Let’s see, we’ve got your email here as well. I’ll get you the details on the rally. Can I hope to see you again before then?”