The Journal: A Prophecy, A President & Death

by Parker, W. Leland

  Calculating, Ramirez says, “This whole prophecy thing is, what, eight years old, right? And not a peep out of him since? It seems to me you have all you’re gonna get from him, and since the fire is a definite, whether the kid makes it isn’t really the point.”

  Danning, harshly, “It is to his mother.”

  Ramirez, a new parent himself is especially embarrassed by his own, callused comment, and says, “I’m– Look, uh, since we’re buying, why don’t you ask your home Bible scholar if prophets get swept up in their own prophecies, or are they excluded from the outcome?”

  “Why are you fighting this? I don’t have to ask Carol ’cause since I have seen the inside of a church this year, I know that prophets are not above the circumstances of their own prophecies. It didn’t not rain on Noah and his family.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t die, did he?”

  “Moses had to deal with the plagues.”

  Again, Ramirez counters with, “Yeah, but he didn’t die from them either, did he?”

  “But Joseph nearly died in the King’s prison!”

  Sensing victory Ramirez says, “But, my dear grasping-at-straws director, you have to admit that all these prophets seemed to rise above their circumstances, meaning none of them died as a result of what they prophesized. So, to answer your question, putting a seasoned agent on a mad rush when we know based on the facts—and I can’t believe I’m quoting the Bible as fact—that the protectorate’s life is not in danger, is simply not necessary.”

  Deputy Director Danning is quiet. He ponders for a moment and then delivers the conclusive evidence, “What about Jesus?”

  • • •

  Our Chief Research Analyst on special assignment as field investigator, Lauren Coles, appears to be on a little bit of a shopping spree. Incredibly, while walking, and making purchases of current clothing to continue her collegiate cover, she is also texting on her PDA using one hand. She scarcely glances at the screen every couple of minutes or so to stay on track. It’s very cool.

  She’s connected with Deputy Director Danning, who’s still working from his home office. He’s providing her information on what is being setup for her in Maryland, and instructing her to call him with every development. Ramirez also sends her a message informing her of the FBI agent assigned to the case and where she’ll meet him.

  Sitting a moment in the mall eatery, eating, reading the New York Times and texting, Lauren feels the gaze of some high-school girls checking her out. The group of five girls appears to average around 16 years of age, and they are generally doing what you’d expect of a pack of 16-year-olds. Two are talking about boys, one is talking on her cell phone, another is studying with an open textbook, and one is also text messaging someone. There appears to be some level of debate and conversation among them as to what Lauren is doing. Agent Lauren can only slightly relate with the mall-set; the overachiever spent her teen years studying, taking sports, and practicing CPR. She doesn’t return their gaze, but makes a point to walk past them on her way out.

  One of the girls who appeared to be most impressed with Agent Lauren’s text messaging skills asks, “Was that your boyfriend you were texting?” Even her friends are slightly surprised at her bold presumption.

  Lauren smiles nicely and says, “No, I was talking with two people, one was my boss at the Secret Service and the other a department head at the FBI. They told me to catch a plane so I’ve gotta go.” And she proceeds to walk off; but wanting to make her point stick, she turns and adds, “I’m only about five or six years older than some of you, but I studied hard. Bye now.” The girls are left speechless and impressed; but the one who was studying has a confident smile as she goes back to her textbook.

  While driving to the airport, Lauren gets a text message that visibly shakes her. A good look at her beautiful eyes show they are filling with tears. She pulls to the side of the lonely stretch of road to collect herself. Looking up through the moon roof of her rental car, she whispers, “Oh, my God! Oh, Daddy, I’ve made it.” Her PDA screen reveals the message which brought on this reaction, it reads: “It is my privilege to inform you that you have been promoted to Field Agent of the United States Secret Service; Pending performance review and a” … She looks at it again to make sure she wasn’t misreading it. The message goes on to state that her credentials and documents will be brought to her at the Denver Airport. Again, it is too much for her to handle. She shakes her head in disbelief.

  Staring up at the sky again, breathless, she says, “Dad, this would have made you so proud. Wow, I didn’t think I could start missing you all over again, but I was wrong. God, I so wish you were here.”

  Excited, she quickly calls her mom to share the great news, but while the phone is dialing she notices a large deer at the edge of the woods. She stares at it for a moment and it appears to be staring right back at her, almost beckoning her to come closer. She looks around, squeezes her eyes shut, and then opens wide to make sure she’s not imagining things. Everything seems very still and very quiet. She slowly unbuckles her seatbelt and begins to quietly unlock the door. She doesn’t lose site of it for a second, and the ten-point male looks right at her. Suddenly she thinks she hears her name “Lauren?” She quickly grabs her phone and places it to her ear and whispers, “Hi, Mom! Shhhh.”

  Confused Mrs. Coles says, “Lauren, what’s going on?”

  She whispers back, “Mom, I’m staring at a big beautiful deer next to the road that seems to want me to come closer.”

  “And get a deer tick? Don’t tell me you called just to tell me–”

  “Mom,” Lauren cuts her off to say, “I got the promotion, I’m an agent!”

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so happy for you! I know you’ve been wanting this since–”

  Still whispering, “I know, Mom, I can’t believe it. It’s happened, just like he said. It’s incredible … and now you’re really going to think I’m crazy.”

  “What, crazier than walking up to a deer by the side of some road in the middle of nowhere?”

  Lauren, continuing to whisper, “It’s just that I get this strange feeling that–that Dad …” she shakes her head in disbelief of what she’s trying to say.

  Her mom finishes the odd concept; “You think your father’s got nothing better to do in heaven than to send wild animals to talk to you?”

  “I know. It’s crazy, right?” At that moment, the deer turns, and with one leap disappears into the dark woods. Lauren is amazed. Her mouth drops wide open.

  Her mom continues, “Sweetheart, if I was going to have you committed, it would have been over and done with years ago. But I am so very happy for you; I’ll just ignore your tenuous grip on sanity. Are you going to celebrate? Did you tell Kevin?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve already got an assignment! You know, I’m in Denver. Well, they’re sending me to– Oh! I’ve gotta get to the airport. Mom, I gotta go. I love you, I’ll call you when, hmm.” She rushes back to the car. “I’ll call as soon as I can.”

  “Okay dear.”

  “Oh, Mom, Mom … when I celebrate it will be with you and the family, okay? Bye.” She pulls off from the side of the road, kicking gravel as her car speeds away.

  Her mom hangs up the phone. Her smile is sweet, but her face shows concern. She’s definitely happy for her daughter; her hard work and commitment have paid off. But the memories of a committed husband, whom she lost to the job in 2001, linger. She also wonders why Lauren isn’t celebrating her promotion with her friend, Kevin. She thinks to herself, “Too bad the promotion couldn’t have come tomorrow, maybe that would have helped.”

  Who, What, When, Where, How?

  Meanwhile, a large fire burns brightly in the Market family fireplace. Joseph turns on the TV and sits down, satisfied that the fire will burn until they go to bed. His mom Joanna is reading her perennial favorite, Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

  She glances over from her book and referencing the rather large fire says, “Joe, you think that’s gonna b
e big enough?”

  Smiling, he replies, “Well, um, I know that madam is fond of a good blaze.”

  She laughs at his reference from her book, and says, “Just as long as it’s well out when we go to bed. I tell you, all men are pyros!”

  Joseph begins watching a game show and he’s able to answer most questions. He’s a bright kid, just like his brother, and both take after their dad. Joanna is not so much reading as she is enjoying watching her 14-year-old be brilliant. He is a wonderful kid, honest, sensitive, hard working and very caring. He’ll make someone a great husband someday, the very thought of which makes Joanna miss her own great husband. At that very moment the phone rings, and suddenly she is like a schoolgirl scurrying to answer it in the next room, letting even her favorite book fall to the floor.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mom!” comes the joyful response. It’s her older son, James. Her bright hopeful smile dims a little—just a little—when she realizes it’s not the man she loves, but rather the other son she loves and misses. “I hear its cold up there tonight!”

  “Yes, but Joe’s built a nice big fire. Did you hear Jimmy, I said Joe’s built–”

  “I did hear. I just– Is Dad not there?”

  “No,” she says with the slightest disappointment, “he had to stay in town.”

  “Wow, Mom, I hope this promotion is all that he believed it would be.”

  “Yeah, he’s the big cheese now; I guess he feels the success or failure of the company is on him. But that’s not why you called, so … how’s studies, how’s school? Met anybody yet?”

  Reading her meaning he replies, “And by met anybody, you mean …”

  “Girls, James. Don’t play dumb with me!”

  He laughs. “No, not really. It’s just been a few weeks, and I’m really trying to get used to dorm life and all. My roommate’s great though; I wish you could have met him.”

  “What’s his major?”

  “He’s political science or poly-sci as they call it. He’s a junior. Actually, Mom, I’ve got to get ready to go over to meet with some other criminology majors and study, I just wanted to check in before the weekend. Let me say hey to Joe real quick.”

  “Okay.” Turning to the living room she calls Joseph to the phone. “Joe, its Jimmy.”

  Joseph runs over to the phone, and Joanna returns to her chair. “Hey Jimbo, so tell me the scoop, it’s just me, and Mom’s outta earshot, is our bet still on?”

  Laughing, James replies, “You mean the Rachel twenty-nine, eleven kiss?”

  “Yes, what else?”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re still on, but you’ve got as much a chance as I do; I’m really barely keeping my head above water here. You won’t believe how much harder the work is.”

  “But do you like it, I mean, are you having fun?”

  “Mmmm, not really fun, I mean it’s different. Some things are fun, I like my classes, my roommate is okay; we’re getting to know each other. You know how interested I am in meeting people. But I’m finding that folks are kinda … I don’t know. Not that many are excited about being in college, you know? Excited about the future. They seem to like to complain more than– Well, I don’t know, just not like I imagined.”

  “Really, wow!”

  “Yeah, but I’ve been hangin’ out with a group of sophomore criminology majors, they’re great. Look, has Dad talked to Mom today?”

  “I– I don’t think so.”

  “Okay. Tell Mom I said I love her, I gotta go.”

  “Alright, we’ll talk to you; and don’t forget the bet.”

  James hangs up the phone and immediately calls his father. While gathering his books together into a backpack, he waits for the phone to connect.

  His dad is at the office. His cell phone, which is sitting on the desk, begins to vibrate and move towards the edge from the intensity. He is working on a proposal, and his administrative assistant is making copies. He sees the phone out of the corner of his eye, and just as it looks as if it might fall off the desk he grabs it:

  “Jimbo!” he says with a smile. “How’s school?”

  James replies, “Its great, Dad. I miss you guys, but other than that, it’s good.”

  Remarkably, his dad is instantly fully engaged in the conversation. He has that talent of giving full attention to what is most important at any given time. It is one of the reasons he was just placed in charge of the Phone-Tools, a cell phone productivity software company, his uncanny ability to focus on the most important thing when there are many important things that need attention.

  As James pours down the stairs of his dormitory, he tells his dad that he really only called to tell him that Mom sounded lonely.

  His father replies, “Shut up, and–”

  “No. Dad,” James insists, “she really sounded like she was expecting your call.”

  “No. I mean, shut up, let me off the phone so I can call my sweetie.”

  James, satisfied, replies, “Okay, Dad, ’love you, see you.”

  Robert proceeds to dial home. His admin sees him and seems a little annoyed at him taking such time to talk to his son, first; and now he’s taking more time to call his wife when they are already working late. “Mr. Market,” she says, “It is almost ten p.m..”

  “Yes, of course Carla, I’m sorry. I have to do this, so, why don’t you go ahead and head out. Thank you for your hard work.”

  “Sir,” she adds, “I’d rather stay and see this through.”

  But he ends the discussion with, “Someday when you’re married, you’ll understand, but I’ve got to call my wife, and if she wants five minutes she gets it, and if she wants fifty minutes she gets it. That’s my after-hours commitment. But it’s not fair to you, and you’ve already gone above and beyond, so please let’s not lose another minute. You’re a sweetie, and I’ll see you on Monday. Vaya con Dios.” And with that, he turns his full attention to his phone conversation with his wife.

  Carla packs her things and looks at him with great admiration … and she cannot help but feel a tiny bit jealous. The brilliant, hard working executive, part-time minister and devout family man is everything she wants. It doesn’t hurt that he’s quite handsome and extremely warm and gentle. As she walks to her car she sees him through the window, watching her. She knows that it is simply for her safety, but she fantasizes that it could be more.

  • • •

  At the Denver International airport, a hurried Agent Hinton searches through some papers looking for a fax showing Agent Lauren Coles’ picture, but he finds none. Frustrated, the lanky black, six-foot-four FBI man grabs an official Secret Service envelope addressed to Agent Coles and after a quick look around to see if anyone is watching, he opens it. Grabbing her new ID Badge from the documents, he locates a picture and begins to survey the room looking for her. Spotting an attractive young lady near the phones who matches her build, he walks over to confirm that it is she and introduce himself, “Agent Coles?” But at first the she doesn’t answer.

  Suddenly, Lauren’s eyes grow huge as she realizes what was just said.

  Impatiently Hinton clears his voice and says, “Excuse me. Miss Lauren Coles?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry,” she replies with a slight giddy expression. It’s the first time she’s heard her new title. Fighting back a grin, she says, “You must be Agent Hinton.”

  “I am,” he replies quickly, “and I’m in one helluva hurry. Do you mind walking with me?” She gathers her stuff and as they head off he hands her her new credentials. “These are for you. Sorry ’bout opening it, but I couldn’t find my fax, and I didn’t have time to page you.”

  Slightly disappointed, but gracious, Agent Lauren fingers through her official paperwork and spots her new ID and signed letter among them. She follows with, “I understand, just as long as you don’t have to place yourself under arrest.”

  He replies with a little annoyance, “Funny! You’re a young funny lady. So what’s your story?”

  Feeling she over
stepped, Lauren says, “Um, my story? Uh, nothing, sir, I was just assigned ’cause of my familiarity with the case. I, um, I’m sorry, where are we rushing to?”

  “I’m rushing to catch a charter to New York to protect your lil’ Nostradamus from his imaginary fire. I’m draggin’ you along so you can brief me.”

  Keeping step with his long strides she adds, “But I’m to fly out on commercial, to Maryland.”

  “No, I’m not draggin’ you on the flight, just to the plane, but I’ve gotta haul it if I’m gonna make the flight and make New York anywhere near midnight.”

  “Oh, I’ve got it,” says Lauren as they rush through the somewhat sparse airport terminal. “So what have you read in the case file?”

  “Nothing—I mean, just the overview.” He shows his badge to quickly get through security, and encourages Coles do the same. This is her first time using it, and she is nowhere near as quick on the draw as Hinton. But she catches on quick, locates her new badge and pauses a moment for security to see it. Now whispering, he continues, “Some religious kid has predicted that the president is gonna die, and now I’ve gotta try to protect him and some journal from a fire that he predicted—which makes no sense at all! If he predicted the fire, why wouldn’t he just get the hell out of the house?”

  She tries to get in a word, “With all due respect, sir–”

  “I dunno,” he cuts her off, “I mean either he believes his own predictions or he doesn’t.”