Apostle

by Brdseyevu

Posted to Stories on 2003-12-08 13:56:00


Apostle


It had been years. Years of worry, doubt, and the niggling feeling in the pit of the stomach that caused her to grow old before her time.

She wasn’t sure which one was the most lost – her son or herself. Then she got the telephone call. She picked up her bag and threw her coat around her shoulders. She didn’t stop at the mirror to see if she was wearing lipstick. It really didn’t seem to matter anymore.

Leaving the house, locking the door, checking the lock again, she turned and braced herself against the cold rain that seemed to have settled on her after he’d disappeared all those years ago. She caught the bus on the corner. She didn’t even look up as she deposited her fifty cents into the slot and moved to the back. She didn’t want friendly conversation.

On the corner of Fifth Street and Main, she pulled the rope and the bus stopped to let her disembark. She’d spoken to no one. There had been no need. The rain had thickened but she didn’t notice. She stood, still as rock solid cement and let her eyes follow the sound of his voice. Then moving very carefully – not to attract any attention, she walked through puddles on the sidewalk and found the park bench. She sat without realizing.

Miserable, she watched the man on the soapbox. He captured stray listeners with words so disjointed she had trouble following his message. His arms flailed as he spoke of “End of Times”. He wasn’t wearing a coat. He’d forgotten his hat.

It was difficult to see, this Apostle, knowing where he came from and how she’d tended him from birth. It was when the walls had finally come down around him that she knew he was either special or lost.

So, she sat there listening to his words as they came out of his frothing mouth. She noticed the stains on his clothing wondering whatever happened to her baby boy.

He turned to her and extended his hands, palms up.

She remembered thinking, “Did you wash them before dinner?”

Then noticed with horror that they were bleeding.

He spoke so harshly of the horrors of the world and now, how he fervently believed in things that were lost to her.

“THE END IS NEAR!”

She heard the words and gathered her bag and her coat. Rising from the park bench on knees that once bent easily in prayer, she moved back to the corner and waited for the next bus home.

“It’s already here.” She said under her breath.