The End of G
Chapter 2
We will not die,
from your desires,
we will not lie;
liars.
One afternoon, towards dusk, two middle aged men and one elder meet in the back of their church. The church itself was lit by the dimming sunlight gleaming through open windows and two oil lanterns. It smelled as fresh as a rose bush blooming at the height of a season. One man named Thomas was freshly groomed with what appeared to be a bright purple shirt, finely pressed. He stood in proper fashion with his full attention beaming at the other two men. It was quite apparent he had an agenda. He was the type of man that always had an agenda and rarely had success. The biggest achievement of his life was organizing a pie eating contest in which his only role was to hand out the tickets. This never stopped him from voicing his opinion. His intentions never seemed aligned with reality. He kept the spirit of the past world, the past culture alive within himself. He struggled to see how his way of thinking lead to the demise of a nation. He still sought out the pursuit of progression in every aspect of life. A man like this is one, is only useful when closely guided and rarely listened too. He is tolerated only because his faith in the Church and his fellow parishioners. He is what the old society would have referred to as a business man or a professional. Perhaps in his last role in a fallen society he was a bureaucratic middle manager with little emphasis on humanity and an unrelenting emphasis on paperwork and record keeping. You could tell that every solution he had resulted in recording, documenting or micromanaging every scenario. For the most part, his decisions are made out of fear and closed mindedness. It is almost like a super power he has. If it were left up to him, the Church which he belongs, would be a business opportunity and less of a place of worship. The parishioners would be judged on how much they would give and his entire judgment on their character would be out of financial speculation. He is a reminder of all that was wrong with the old world.
As they sit in the pale light, each man struggled with their words and thoughts. The ramblings persisted as they awkwardly over spoke each other in argument. One word blended into the other’s resembling a twisted song written only for the coward that lurks within our inner soul. Words which are intended only to overshadow the reality of their situation. There was a pressing issue at hand and a decision needed to be made. The elder in the group raised his hand in splendor from his knee and ever so gently waived it to the right and then back again to his knee gaining the attention the dull company in-front of him. His eyes glistened bright blue with an ever so faint glimmer of happiness buried under much defeat and sorrow. He leaned back in his chair and regarded them for a moment. The silence now deafening with only the creaking of an old chair balancing back on two legs which at any moment has the possibility of crashing to the wood floor. He was wearing a brown leather vest over a tainted white loose fitting shirt that could never grow old fashion. His beard was groomed intentionally to display an unadulterated length with a dash of symmetry. He was deliciously haunted with a feeling of power, a feeling he knows he must suppress and end as a faintly glimmering light. Even though he was regarded as the elder, his strength, health and charisma out weighed all others. He rarely vested any energy in displaying his talents for charisma and commanding attention. This was saved for moments of darkness. Moments of time, when leadership is needed and encouragement must be dealt out with a dash of fear. The time was ever so present. So saying, he crashed the chair into the wooden floor where he leaped to his his feet, there he stood tall and courageous. His grey beard flowed wavy but uncurled down to his mid chest. His forehead wrinkled up fully acknowledging that the time for half measures and talk was over.
“It is not becoming of our Church, our community or our faith to have you two gentlemen bickering in confusion. Many people have put their trust into you. Well deserved trust I might add. Our future is at stake.”
Overcome with his presence, which now they once again could perceive. The presence they have seen multiple times in much needed times as these.
Thomas nervously turned right and saw nobody, not even his own shadow was there to comfort him. “Indeed, I will begin drafting a letter for review.’ If the accounts are true, we should be adequate candidates for their help.”
As though the second man had been enchanted. He surely stopped the repugnant lip speak that had dominated the conversation of early and courageously held his head high with no arch in his back. “And I’ll begin vetting a brave crew to deliver the message.”
The elder fixed his eyes on a cluster of leaves blowing outside the window behind the two men. “Have no fear and remember you both are doing a wonderful job.’ You have alot of work and tough decisions ahead of you.’ I promise that you will not bear the consequences alone, for I will be by your side every step of the way.” And off he set leaving the two men to their daunting tasks. Never sure of their capabilities, but relying totally on his faith in Jesus Christ of Nazareth to lead them to greener pastures. Pastures not riven with ceaseless creatures of human form causing weariness of his beloved peoples. He prays this more for his people and not himself, because secretly he has a faintness of rapturous delight while standing in the breeze of chaos and horror. All of which is a secret that will follow him to the grave, even though he knows they know.