MARIEL

10~Use Your Gift~

His hands felt tingly. Phil Jameson would have normally determined that it was carpal tunnel but, after Carolyn's healing, he felt that it was an awareness increase to the gift God had given him. He also attributed it to the high blood pressure he felt he had been given by Fr. Jerome's appalling behavior towards him. At some point, and some point soon, he felt his only duty was to report Fr. Jerome to the elders of the church for his anger issues and, of course, his liberal ideologies.

Phil sat at the dining room table, reading the newspaper with occasional glances towards his wife as she prepared lunch for him. What a gem. Last night she had complied to his every wish without complaint, and even though he had healed her of the beating bruises, she had new ones from the aggressive sex he had initiated after dinner. For a brief moment, he had considered healing her of the bruises. However, on second thought, he decided to leave them as ownership marks. He chuckled. Every good wife needed those.

"Do you want anything else on your sandwich, Phil?" Carolyn's voice was soft, meek.

"No, my sweet."

Cautiously, Carolyn approached him and placed the round white plate with the thick, chicken sandwich before him. Phil grabbed her arm and she jumped with wide eyes and a fearful expression.

"Why so concerned, my love?" Phil asked, as if unaware that his violence towards her the night before had been of any concern to her. He pulled her down and kissed her. "I just wanted to tell you thank you for lunch." He reached behind and squeezed her bruised butt cheeks. "Go do something for yourself, dear. You deserve it."

Carolyn's body jolted in response to his touch. "Are- are you sure?"

He pulled back and took a bite of his sandwich. "Go before I change my mind. Just don't spend more than thirty bucks, got it?"

Quickly, she nodded and then hastened upstairs.

Phil continued to eat and read his newspaper. A brief time after Carolyn left, his cell phone vibrated on the table. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he looked at the caller identification.

Unknown Caller blinked across the screen.

Grunting, Phil took a sip of water and answered. "This is Phil Jameson."

"Hello, Phil." The male voice was a deep, flat, mid-range tone, and unfamiliar.

"Who is this?"

There was brief hesitation before the voice spoke again. "I know you have a special gift."

Phil's heart beat faster. Who else, besides Carolyn, could possibly know about this already? His expression darkened. If that bitch had disclosed that information - !

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. I'm going to hang up now." He moved to bring the phone down from his ear.

"God doesn't want you to end this conversation yet, Phil."

Phil held the phone in the lowered position for a brief moment, then returned it to his ear. "Excuse me?"

"Remember how God gave you the gift of healing hands? You can't keep that gift to yourself, Phil, you have to share it."

Phil's knuckles whitened as he clenched the phone. "How do you know about this? Who the hell are you?"

"You could call me a messenger, I suppose. Just listen to me. The world has become a bleak, hopeless place to live. It could use some hope... much less a miracle, don't you think?"

"Get to the point."

"Here's what I need from you. Well, not me, but God. You will soon be asked to use your gift. When you are asked, use it. Do not hesitate."

For a brief moment, Phil sat silently. Suddenly, other questions began forming in his head. "If you are a messenger, tell me how I discovered my gift."

"You cut yourself with a knife and healed yourself."

Phil began to shake. "How do I know you are not a messenger of Satan?"

"How do you know I am not a messenger of God?"

Nervously, Phil glanced around as if searching for an apparition. "So, to be clear, you are saying that it is the will of God that I use my gift to heal people?" He suddenly felt excited, and more powerful by each second of thought.

"Yes."

Suddenly, he had the memory of Fr. Jerome come to mind, standing angrily with his fists clenched and his face red. "I have another question. Do you know of Fr. Jerome Nadier?"

Brief silence over the line. Then: "Fr. Jerome's time in the church has run its course. It's up to you to make sure everyone remains on their feet in the true doctrine. The man is losing sanity, Phil, but be easy on him. It's not his fault."

Pride swelled in Phil Jameson's chest. "Yes." He stood up excitedly. "God's will be done." He stared outside the window at the snowy day. "But please...tell me who you are. Your name?"

Another brief silence over the line. "Call me Fr. Paul. Goodbye, Phil."

Phil Jameson lowered the phone and trembled with excitement. No more self-doubt. Only action. Only healing. Saving. Only God's will.

Hurriedly, he left the table to access his laptop in the living room. With excited fingers, he opened the laptop and a text document to write his Sunday school lesson of the week. He had so many ideas. The feeling he was experiencing now was similar to that of how elated he felt after Carolyn's healing. This had been all he ever wanted...to serve the Lord and use his talents to lead others away from the heresies of the world. Now, he had the blessing from God's own messenger, and he knew great things were coming to the true followers of Christ.

'Children,' he wrote. 'Be excited. The gate has opened, and your gifts from God will soon be revealed.'

He wrote upcoming-

- sermons-

-lessons for hours.

He wrote until an officer came to his door later that afternoon, at 4:58pm, and told him his wife Carolyn was dead.