MARIEL

14~ I'm the Horseman of Death ~

Dear Diary,

I never thought I would write this, yet here I am. Mariel is coming home today. To be clear, the date is January 11th, 2019. Mariel died last year, and he called me the other evening to let me know that he was alive and well. I knew he would return, but I did not expect it to be so soon, in my lifetime. This is truly a miracle, a miracle from God, and I look forward to hearing what my son has to tell me. At first, part of me wanted to be angry with him. But, reason told me that he deserved an answer, or an explanation. I wish there had been another way, and I know it is because I am selfish, but it was a very horrible thing to endure. Mariel is all I have. He is my everything.

The headaches and the visions have continued, but I have not yet pieced them together. Maybe, I don't want to. If I am being honest with myself, I am a homosexual priest who may, perhaps, be living in the end times. I know I might be overthinking, or overreacting, and I know the anxiety I feel can be monumental at times, but I have always had a healthy fear of Hell. I supposed, in my generation, it was something I was forced to ingest... you know, the fear of Hell for being a homosexual. My father, ironically, always told me to give my anxieties to God, but he was never hesitant to place the Bible before me and read the passages describing my pathway to Hell if I did not change my thinking, or my ways. I was a young boy, I could not help what I felt. Perhaps, that's the real reason I became a priest... so that I could lower the risk of damnation. But did that increase my risk? Am I living a lie?'

A plane roared in the distance.

Fr. Jerome stopped writing and looked outside of the large windows. The old priest sat in one of the Chicago O'Hare lobbies, listening to the bustle of footsteps, chatter, and rolling suitcases in the large building. The sun was sinking into the horizon.

Fr. Jerome glanced towards the screen of flight listings above him and felt a twinge of excitement in his gut. If the flight was on time, it would be here soon. Ten minutes.

This felt familiar. It felt like the moment he had stepped foot in the hotel to meet Mariel for the first time, and take him home. It was a day he would never forget, and today, also, would be unforgettable.

Fr. Jerome hoped, and prayed, that this was reality.

It had appeared to be reality. He had sent his son the necessary information so that he could successfully receive an emergency passport from the U.S. Embassy in Russia and, even though Mariel would not mentioned his whereabouts, the young man convinced him that he had trustworthy help and would be home soon.

His eyes darted to the flat screen television on the wall. Beneath it, rows of seats. The seats contained two families, a few kids. Also, an older gentleman sleeping with his feet sprawled into the aisle, his head lobbed to the side, arms folded over his large belly. Someone shrieked with excitement, and the priest's eyes shifted to the walkway where a middle-aged woman ran into the arms of a young man.

Fr. Jerome smiled and then turned his eyes to the television again. It was a live broadcast. Leaning in, he saw Kaemon Spears at a microphone. Cameras flashed. He was smiling. The headline: 'BREAKING NEWS: Kaemon Spears, Mayor of Chicago, announces run for Presidency in 2020.'

The priest could not read the subtitles on the screen. He squinted a little, and then gave up and leaned back in his chair. Another plane roared outside of the window, and Fr. Jerome returned his eyes to the journal in his hand. As he did so, he saw the muscular legs of a large man cross his path of sight and he looked up to smile as the man sat beside him.

The man had smooth skin and dark features. He wore a black cap low over his dark eyes, and his strong, clean-shaven jaw twitched a little as he watched the television across the room. Areas of raw skin glistened on his large hands, and his fingers gently tapped his thighs. He wore black cargo pants that looked too small for the size of his legs. Noticing Fr. Jerome's glance, he turned his head towards the priest and smiled in return.