MARIEL

31~ Politics Are For The Devil ~

The bowl of cheerios sat untouched, becoming increasingly soggy as the minutes passed. Alone, Phil sat at the dining room table, watching the cheerios float gently in the milk.

The knock on the front door startled him. Irritated, he glanced at the red clock above the stove. Was it necessary to disturb the public after six pm? He arose from his chair and started towards the door, but he was nervous. The last time someone had entered his house he had experienced excruciating amounts of pain, and he had no desire to live through that again.

Phil closed one eye and stared through the peephole. "Hello? Who's there? I have no interest in anything, especially Jehovah Witness crap." He saw the vague outline of two suited figures on the porch.

"Hello, Mr. Jameson. I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Well, you are."

"My apologies. However, I'd like to discuss something very important with you."

"Who are you?" Phil switched to the other eye and continued looking through the peephole.

"My name is Kaemon Spears, I'm the mayor of Chicago." The voice was calm, quiet.

"Ha! And I'm George Washington." He unlocked the door and opened it, smiling, and the smile faded immediately when he placed his eyes on the tall, black man in a long, black peacoat, and a shorter, more muscular white man with a shiny bald head at his side.

Spears smiled, exposing his straight, white teeth. "Hi, Mr. Jameson. You match every description they gave me."

Quizzically, Phil stared up at him, his brow furrowed. "Who?"

"The people you healed, sir!"

Phil blinked, startled. "I'm... not quite sure what you are -"

Spears interrupted and glanced around, his face agitated. "When the media spoke to them, each person from that hospital hallway described a red-headed miracle that walked past them before they, incredibly, were healed. May we come in, Mr. Jameson? It's cold." He returned his glance to Phil now with an impatient smile on his lips.

Phil's face paled. Nervously, he wet his lips and glanced around his home, as if expecting someone to be there suddenly without his immediate knowledge. After several moments of convincing himself that he was not about to be assassinated, he stepped aside and opened the door. "Welcome."

Looking around with quiet curiosity, both men stepped inside the house as Phil shut the door and turned to face them. "Coffee? Water? Milk?" Phil stood with his hands clasped, his eyes wide, and his lips tight with agitation.

"We're alright. Perhaps a place to sit."

Nervous, Phil led them to the dining room and gestured towards the available chairs. He removed the bowl of cereal and placed it on the kitchen counter. Once seated, Kaemon Spears crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. Keeping his eyes on Phil, the other man sat beside him and leaned back into his chair.

"What's this about, Mr. Spears?" Phil said, glancing back and forth between the two men.

Spears scratched the side of his nose and returned his hands to his lap. "I'm surprised the media didn't contact you. I guess they aren't as intelligent as they make themselves out to be. But I'll cut straight to the chase because I hate wasting time. I'm campaigning for President starting in 2019, and I want you to join me."

"Politics are for the devil, I'm not interested." Phil set his teeth.

Spears raised an eyebrow. "I'm not asking you to be involved in the politics. Although you are a lawyer... you swim in a sea of politicians." He chuckled at Phil, whose face turned red. "No, that's not it. I need a good, religious man on my side when I run, someone who can show the country that there is hope in our future, that miracles can happen."