After leaving the cathedral, we grabbed brunch and jumped back in the Bentley. The Lord drove us to the abandoned Michigan Central Station in Detroit. As we got closer, I could see trucks parked outside, with satellite dishes mounted on them and cables running into the building. "What all this, Jesus?" I asked the King of Kings.
"Teddy my boy, we are going live world-wide at 6:30 Eastern Daylight Time! This is it buddy, the big show. Oprah ain't got nuthin on us." Jesus was very excited about his prime-time premier.
As we entered the building, there were people everywhere. Well, they weren't really people. They had huge wings poking out of there backs, and stood about twenty feet tall. Angels, I suppose, but none had harps or any of the other usual angel stuff I had seen in paintings.
Jesus called out, "Michael! Are the troops ready?"
"Yes, Lord. We are moving outside now."
"Jesus, is that...?" as my voice trailed off.
"Yes, Theodore, that's Arch Angel Michael, the commander of the Army of God," Jesus explained. An army is what it was. There was a great clamor and I heard the sound of metal clanking, and swords being sheathed.
Michael and his brigade moved outside and set up a perimeter around the old train station.
Back inside, the angels were setting up a sound stage, hanging lights, checking audio. Jesus was reading through a script, talking to who I assume was the director.
I wandered outside. There were more vehicles arriving, more with additional satellite dishes, and some with huge spot lights. Michael's brigade was sparing with their swords and spears, laughing as they clashed and tumbled. I sat down on a rock, and lit a cigarette, thinking to myself, "This is a bad day to quit smoking."
"What is going to happen tonight?' I wondered to myself. My stomach was churning with fear. Fear for those who do not know what is coming. Fear for those who think they have more time. Fear for those blinded and killed already. Fear for myself too. Is this justice? What would the world be like after tonight?
I sat down, with my back resting against the Michigan Central Station, and fell into a sleep. In my dream I heard the screams and cries of all of those who have died at the hands of Great Evil. Millions upon millions of voices in agony. I saw a great tangles of corpses, piled into pyramids. Poles, Jews, Gypsies, Chinese, American Indians, Incas, Aztecs, Myans, Egyptians, Greeks, French, German, Italians, Spanish, Africans, Russians, Ukranians, there was not a single people unrepresented. I looked down and I was standing in a ocean of blood. The blood of mankind, spilled by mankind. Then I saw a great multitude of people standing on high hills looking down at the slaughter with each one turning their backs and walking away. "This is what we have become, this is what we have always been. A culture of death," I heard myself speak. If it all was destroyed tonight, everything, so that no trace of man was left on Earth, I would find no fault in the Creator. It would be just.
It would be just.
