“Cunning grows in deceit at seeing itself discovered, and tries to deceive with truth itself.”
一 Baltasar Gracián (1647), “The Art of Worldly Wisdom”
I left the Family for the first time in a year, after the Ascension of Samuel. God sent a virus, said Samuel, to punish the Wicked. But the Wicked turned the virus against the Good. The virus hunted Lord Samuel, and he was taken to sit with God. The Family still has purpose on Earth, so God and Samuel protected us. The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
However, my wife has taken to her bed and struggles for air. She is more pious than I, and the virus attempts to steal her from us.
I showed weakness.
“Are you sure I can’t get you a mask?” Julie, the social worker, asks. I glare at her. Only the Wicked hide their faces. All of them hide their faces; Julie, the entire police station, the few I saw on the road into town.
“We want to help you, but can’t if you won’t tell us where the compound is.” I know her lies.
“I want a doctor to save my wife,” I tell her again. “I will return him when my wife is well.”
“She needs to be in a hospital.”
A man in a suit talks to another man outside the room. He enters. “The best we can do is ask you to bring your wife to the hospital.”
“No. You’ll follow me. I won’t allow it.”
“Why do you think we wouldn’t follow you anyway?” The man pulls his mask over his nose.
“I will have your doctor.”
“I don’t think you thought this through.”
Julie attempts to confuse me. “The virus affects the ability to plan in some people.”
“I AM NOT SICK!” Standing, I lose my balance. Exhaustion consumes me since Samuel left us. As I tumble toward the chair, I realize I should have trusted God and Samuel and stayed by my wife’s side. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
The man tries to grab me. Julie is saying, “Calm down.” A man dressed entirely in black, the Angel of Death, blocks the door. All I can do is relent.
“Why does everyone cover their faces?”
“We don’t want to get sick,” Julie lies.
“Why are there no people on the road or at the gas station?”
“They are at their homes, where it’s safe.”
I see the truth. The Tribulation is upon us. The streets are vacant. The Army has set camp in abandoned parking lots. Only the Wicked remain, hiding their faces from God. Foolishly, I am in the center of their den, pleading for mercy.
The man in the suit squats and looks at me. “You know we can’t give you a doctor.”
I ask, “May I leave?”
“You think we’re going to let you walk out of here?”
“Yes.” God and Samuel will protect me. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
The man in black is standing in the door, the word SWAT emblazoned on his breast in yellow letters. A black turtleneck disguises his face. He nods at the man in the suit.
The man in the suit raises. “You’re free to go.”
The Angel of Death steps aside. Julie pleads with me. I cross through the police station as masked heathens stare. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
I cross the empty street to my truck. I have betrayed Samuel, but I will not betray the Family. I drive to the bay and find the beach barricaded. So, I proceed on foot, and kneel and pray in the sand, feeling Samuel’s love. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
As I rise and walk into the water, there is the squawk of a siren and voices yelling. The Wicked have followed me, they will not find the Family. Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
M. E.