September 5th 2012, 5:50 pm, Hickory Grove, Wisconsin
Jed snapped out of his reverie as he drove by Hope Community Church, the place that had been his spiritual family for the past three years. Living only one block from the church gave him the luxury of privacy when wanted, but also allowed him to keep a watchful eye on the church's property. As would be expected on a Sunday night, the lot was empty of cars. But, as he slowly drove by, Jed noticed a lone figure standing beneath the carport overhanging the church's main entrance.
, he thought.
Being so close to the interstate, it came as no surprise to Jed as he pulled into the parking lot to find a disheveled man leaning against one of the support posts of the aging carport. It had always irritated Jed that the transient population in Hickory Grove was so substantial in comparison to the town's twenty-five thousand citizen populace. The new interstate bypass, constructed fifteen years ago, had blessed the town by attracting the attention of the fast-growing organic grocery store chain, "Whole-Life," and enticing them to establish their corporate headquarters in the once sleepy town of Hickory Grove twelve years ago. However, along with the blessings of financial prosperity came the twin frustrations of previously unheard of traffic congestion, as ten thousand commuters filtered into town to fill the cubicles in one of Whole-Life's four sprawling office complexes; and the unsightly cardboard placards of vagrants keeping vigil at the highway off ramps and flooding the local churches, food banks and street missions with requests for physical, financial and emotional assistance.
Pushing aside the temptation to just keep on driving, Jed attempted to bolster his sagging motivation by accentuating what he considered to be the bright side of the situation.
, he thought to himself as he pulled up under the overhang and lowered his driver's side window.
"Good evening," Jed said with as much sincerity as he could muster during the time when he was supposed to be off. "Can I help you with something?"
The man didn't smell of booze from Jed's vantage point, but the vagueness in his eyes and expression led Jed to believe that the man wasn't fully present. After a few seconds, the vagrant uttered the six least favorite words Jed liked to hear after office hours in a voice that was reminiscent of the rock polisher Jed kept in his garage.
"I need someone to talk to."
Jed considered asking the man to come back tomorrow, but as "" began to play in his mind, he nodded curtly, gave the man a thin smile and turned off the van. Stepping out of the vehicle, he attempted to firmly and professionally shake the fish–like grip of the "gentleman" standing before him.
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His tendency, albeit one he was admittedly working on, was to size up an individual within the first three seconds of meeting them. At around 70 years of age, with unkempt hair, beard, clothes and especially - teeth - the guy had "alms request" written all over him.
Desiring greatly to give the man his standard: "I'm terribly sorry, but all we can provide for you is assistance from our food pantry, if you would be so kind as to come back tomorrow ...," speech, Jed instead unlocked the front door of Hope Community Church and invited the man back into his office.
Once inside an office that always seemed far too spacious to Jed for a church this size, he waded into his alms routine.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mister ...?" said Jed, trailing off in his most obsequious minister's voice as he offered the man a seat.
After a sufficiently awkward pause (how Jed hated awkward pauses) the man came back with the absent–minded and monosyllabic reply of, "Sage."
"Sage" repeated Jed, slowly, "Thanks, Sage. I'm Pastor Jed Matthews, but please feel free to call me Jed. How can I help you today?
Awkward pause number two ensued.
Jed fidgeted slightly as "Sage" or "Mr. Sage" or "whomever" failed to reply in a socially acceptable manner for the third time in their short relationship. This time, seconds could be heard ticking off of the wall clock hanging above the threadbare couch reserved for Jed's guests.
The stranger didn't seem to care one bit about Jed's social discomfort as he gazed up at some unseen bogey in the upper left hand corner of the office.
Clearing his throat, nervously, Jed was preparing to repeat his initial query when "Sage" finally responded in a breathy tone, "It is you."
Jed just stared at the man for a full five seconds, clearly caught off guard by the cryptic answer.
"I'm sorry sir, but did you say 'It's
"The one whom he loves has the gift!" Sage breathed out, even weaker than before.
"Excuse me, Sage, wasn't it?" By this point in his career, Jed was adept at ending meetings with crackpots, but before he could get into to his rehearsed closer (" ...")
"There is no time!"
Sage was on his feet now, raising his gravelly voice for the first time, only still maintaining his dull, cow–eyed stare up into the far corner of the room. Sinking, slowly, back onto the couch, he repeated in barely above a whisper, "There is no time." But, added to Jed's already sizable confusion by concluding ...
"They are coming."
That was all Jed was able to get out of the man. The phantom bogey at two o'clock seemed to fully occupy what little was left of Sage's attention span. So, after waiting for almost another minute, just in case Sage had any other meaningless proverbs to bless him with, Jed politely but firmly helped the man off of the couch and escorted him out of his office, pausing only for a moment beneath the carport to extend a parting hand, which Sage simply stared at.
Jed rolled his eyes once his back was turned to the bedraggled fossil and returned to his office, leaving Sage standing outside alone. Deciding to rifle through his inbox and check his office email briefly before finally heading home for the evening, he took one last look out his office window to make sure that Sage was leaving the property promptly. A moment later he had knocked over his chair in his haste and bolted out of the church office.
In that brief look out of the window, Jed hadn't seen an aged, confused homeless man working his way back toward the busy street.
He saw a man lying face down in the middle of the church parking lot.
