by Darrel Bird
children running, playing and laughing Tom. These people are like children too. There are, or were…the Joes on every playground in America, and the Lord tolerates them because he loves them, same as anybody.”
“You mentioned you felt that we are here for a witness to something?”
“Yes, I’m almost positive of it, the woman…Lou is her name? She knows, but she ain’t saying. I see her keep looking around the horizon. Crazy or not I’ll bet you a nickel to a doughnut God speaks to her. You listen to her Tom.”
“She has a little white angel stamped on her bag, and she says it tells her things.”
“Its not the angel she sees, it’s the angel she don’t see that talks to her. God don’t need angels to talk to us, although it may be angels, and they may be about, but angel is her word for it. Lets get your tents up, if you don’t mind I would like you to pitch tent right here close to mine over there.”
“Ok, lets get it done.”
By the time that the women returned they had the tents up, “I played with the kids Daddy, and while we were playing a Deer came right up to us at the edge of the woods, we even petted him.”
“Innocent sacrifice.” Lou said.
The group all turned to look at her, and his skin felt like pin pricks.
“That’s your tent Lou, I put your bag inside, and your angel is safe in there.” Lou looked at the green and white tent, and then crawled inside the small tent to sleep a while.
“The ladies told us about the animals. It makes me so sad Tom, I don’t know if I can eat it.”
“Eat it with thanks giving and love to the Lord; I have a feeling we won’t have too very long.”
“Yes.”
“You feel it too?”
“Yes.”
The evening descended on the camp softly as if a great blanket was laid on the land. A wisp of fog lay on the field. A sleepy bird chirped in a bush nearby the tent.
Joe didn’t try again to rouse the people, and Tom thought he was hiding in his tent most of the time.
Two days later the camp was busy going on about their daily life. Women were cooking in front of their tents, children played on the field. It was about nine o’clock in the morning when a great blast shook the whole field, almost knocking them to the ground. People shakily looked around. There came a flash and the whole field lit up as if a second sun was born. The flash glittered in the Fir tree’s and went out. Tom felt his senses scramble.
“Look!” Some one yelled as they pointed toward Portland. A great cloud was rising to the heavens. Rings of them, and then the mushroom cloud began to form. A minute later a weaker pulse of power came, and another much more distant cloud began to form.
“Lord amighty, there went Portland and Seattle both!” A man yelled.
“Get on the ground!” Tom yelled as loud as he could to the people that had gathered in the field. Thirty seconds later the shock wave went through the trees, knocking the people that were standing to the ground. The tall fir trees bent over, and then snapped back. The people felt like they had been punched in the gut by a giant’s hand.
After a few minutes the people began to get up off the ground. The trees had shielded the camp from most of the shock wave.
“Let’s get out there and see if anybody is hurt Tom.” They walked the circle of tents until they found a woman holding her shoulder, “My shoulder is dislocated.” She told them. “It comes out real easy, and it dislocated when I fell.”
“Get in front of her and hold her Tom. Ma’am I have to pull the shoulder back into place. Its going to hurt.”
“I know.” The woman said, “Do it.”
John put his left shoulder against the woman’s back, and yanked on her right shoulder. Tom heard it pop as it went into place. The woman screamed, and then looked relieved.
“Sorry ma’am.” John said.
“Thank you John. My husband used to do it for me, but he’s gone now.”
“You’re welcome, do you know of anyone else that was hurt?”
“No.”
They came to the end of the field, and then turned to walk back toward their own tents. Both their minds were busy with what had just happened.
When they arrived back they found Linda and Brenda in front of their tents, “What were those things Tom?” Linda asked.
“Atomic bombs, they just blew the hell out of Portland and Seattle, no telling where else. I think what we were to witness just happened.”
“Will radiation from them hurt us?”
“My angel said we won’t be here.” Lou said.
“God help us if we are.” Tom mumbled under his breath.
When the bombs went off Joe Fry ran to his tent, and hid in his sleeping bag. He didn’t care about the others, he had sacrificed his wife, and child to the soldiers in return for his own life. He always tried to work both sides to stay out of trouble. Joe Fry was the very impersonation of the word coward.
He hadn’t told anyone about the chip that was just under the skin in his hand. He was delighted to be the one to cut the throat of the Deer, and Elk that wandered into the camp. He would put a sad look on his face just before he killed the animals, and then he would secretly take delight in the blood that gushed from their throat.
When he cut the throat of the animals he felt a surge of delicious rage go through him, but he hid it well, and the people thanked him for doing such an unpleasant job. Women thoughtfully cooked the most tender portions of the meat, and brought it too him. He would sneak back inside of the tent, and close the flap. His eyes glared as he wolfed the meat of the innocent animals down.
A full hour after the bombs Joe Fry walked out of his tent. All the people were gone, and the animals had gone back into the forest. The field and the tents were silent as the grave. The birds no longer sang, and Joe Fry found himself alone. Although it was still light outside the air felt dark and stuffy as the inside of a tomb. He vomited up the meat he had eaten that morning until his insides were completely empty.
He begged, he pleaded and he cajoled for God to take him with the people, and then he screamed his sanity away in that clearing.
The end