I obeyed—at least, I took off my shoes.
"Who are you?" I asked. I had a hunch, but I had to be sure.
"I am the LORD, God of your father and mother, and their fathers and mothers."
- - -
"Are you trying to tell me that you met God at Hobberts Park? Because now, this is just getting ridiculous…"
"Molly Price…" I said, pausing only to allow my patience to replenish before continuing. "Didn't God create the whole earth and everything in it, including Hobberts Park?"
"Even if I did believe that, of all the beautiful places in the world, why would he choose to meet you there? Does your God have no ambition Thomas Moore?"
Thomas ignored her and continued.
- - -
At that point I was shaking. To say that I was a hundred percent afraid would be a lie; there was a bit of euphoria mixed in too.
"So are you here on good terms or bad?"
"I am here to make an accordance with you."
"So is this the part where you tell me that you'll make me into a nation?" I asked, almost swearing at myself for making a bad joke at such a crucial time promptly afterward.
"You will not become a nation. You will not even be a clan. You will never have children."
I became completely afraid again. I began to wonder if my bad joke had made him mad. I took another step back.
"Do not be afraid," he said, even clearer than before. "Because even though you will never have children, you will help me to bring a great deal of my own into my kingdom, which you will all enter into soon."
"The people of Farabon have become wicked. They have hardened their hearts against my Word. They have certainly caused me to hide my face away from them with their wicked ways. Yet, there are those who say that I have abandoned them; they call this place the Abandoned City. Do they not see that it is they who have abandoned me?"
"Still, I will show my abounding love to those who will receive it, for I am the LORD, and I will show faithfulness to those that love me. I will certainly save those in this corrupted place who still love me, and believe in my Son—whom I gave to all humanity."
"But even those who do not love me, but whose hearts are not hardened completely still, I will save through you. You will go to them and prophesize, and I will open their eyes so that they too can love me and certainly be saved."
"B-but…that's a huge job…" I said, "…and of all people…I wasn't always…"
"Is it not wiser to send to them someone who was once like them?"
I was about to think up another excuse. I really didn't want to take on such a huge responsibility. Where would I ever get the courage…how could I ever do such a thing alone? And then, in a moment of realization, my doubts faded back into the shadows of my mind.
I nodded. Promptly after, I realized how foolish that must have been—His back being turned to me and all—but He must have seen me anyway.
"Good," He said. "I will show you where to go and you must follow me with haste. You must deliver my great promise to all of those whom I send you to before my Son returns to earth again—which is very soon. This is why I say you will not have children, because when you are done with my work there will not be enough time. But if you do my work faithfully, I will bless you with many gifts that you will not be able to receive all of them."
- - -
"I thought you were being theatric earlier..."
"We're here; welcome to the mission."
Molly's silver sedan pulled into a paved driveway that lead up to a flat orange building.
"Hmm, it's more quaint than it looks driving by." Molly observed.
The building was small, and almost a perfect square, but its bright walls glowed with charisma, almost as though inviting passers-by in. On the front side, near the white reclining door, there was an attractive caption that read:
LAST CALL MISSIONARY
Molly parked her Focus in one of the four parking spots and then shut off the ignition. She grabbed her handbag from the back seat, got out her notepad and made some quick jottings. She then turned to Thomas as she opened the door.
"So whatever happened with Simon? Never saw him again?"
"What? Of course I saw Simon again. Sure, there was loads of angst, but we were teenagers; that's what teenagers do. I wasn't going to stop talking to my best friend because he was having a few bad days. And man, did those next few days suck."
"Alright alright, drama king; I was only kidding."
- - -
"This isn't a good time, Tommy."
"I saw God, Simon…I saw him."
Simon stepped outside and joined me on the front steps with such haste that I backed down. His face was twisted into a mesh of anguish and confusion. Around his eyes were red, with lumps at the bottom. The actual eyes were squared at mine with such concentration that if I didn't know better, I'd have said I wasn't welcome. Of course, I didn't know as much as I thought.
"About ten minutes ago man—it was…"
"You came all the way here to play out some stupid fantasy?" He interjected. "What happened to you? Get this in your stupid head: there is no god!"
At that point his eyes turned away from mine; he seemed to be deliberately avoiding them. He turned back toward the door, but stopped halfway.
"And you know what else? I wanted to believe you. Since my dad got sick, and they only way he could get better was through some kind of miracle. And he started praying—my dad, the biggest atheist I know—I thought that must have been some kind of sign. And then you…"
He broke down.
"Your dad's sick Simon? Simon…is your dad sick?" I felt guilty for not having known something so important. Sure, there was no way for me to have known without him telling me, but I still felt that I was my fault that he didn't feel comfortable enough to do so.
"And the same time, you started on about these visions, and I thought, hey maybe this god is real. Maybe he's trying to tell me something." And then suddenly his voice turned cold. "But he wasn't, cause he's not real!"
I couldn't see his face, but I sensed right away that something terrible had happened in Simon Garber's world. "Simon…Simon is he okay?"
"No he's not okay Thomas! That god crap didn't get him better—didn't stop him from dying. And I swear if I ever hear anymore of it then this god better be with you! So just stay away from me…"
- - -
"Geez, what a jerk."
Thomas and Molly were already inside the building, in his cozy office. Inside there was a desk and two chairs behind it, along with one at its front that Molly was sitting in. Behind Molly's chair was a bookshelf which was right next to the glass door to the lobby area. Lobby area was the only term that Molly could use to describe it. It was totally empty except for the receptionist area, a plant, and three identical paintings that hung on the orange walls. The receptionist wasn't even there.
"She's out to lunch, I guess," Thomas had told when Molly inquired, but when she glanced at her watch it was ten thirty.
"He was acting like it was your fault that his dad…died."
"Are you actually taking my side?" Thomas teased.
Molly scowled and started scribbling on her notepad again. "So the first article will be out on Fr—"
She paused as she looked up and saw him grinning and gesturing to somebody behind her. She spun around and saw a well-dressed blond haired man approaching them from the lobby. He was grinning as well.
"You find favor with just about everyone, don't you?"
"What does that mean?"
"If this were a book you'd be called Mary Sue," said Molly, and then she added quickly. "I took creative writing in college. It's just that everybody seems to like you—especially when them liking you has benefits; that Marty guy, the Audi dealer, obviously, and now this guy. I don't even know who he is but I can tell he's important. And quirks probably come with him too."
Thomas glanced out his office door at the approaching man, and then to Molly in amusement.
"Molly," he said, pausing for her to look at him. "That's Simon."
Hope you enjoyed that as much as I did. Thanks under the influence for the sharp eyes.