Prophetic Dreams

Chapter 2

During the ride home James thought long and hard about what Shirley had said to him.  He wondered if maybe she was just a nutter and this was just a game cooked up between her and Mary.  Well then how do you explain the book and the fire, he asked himself.   Of course there was no explanation for that.  And what did she mean when she said he was the one.  If he went around telling everyone that he was the one to lead them in a war against Satan they would all think he was the nutter and probably throw him in the asylum.   

 On the way back to his apartment James noticed something he had never seen before.  To the left side of the road was an old driveway that wound its way back through some trees and disappeared over the hill.  Nature had long since reclaimed what was rightfully hers making it hard to see the old ruts, but that’s exactly what they were.  For some strange reason James felt compelled to see where this new road lead.  He was not aware of any old homesteads in this sector.  James had worked for the county planning office for two years as he got his bachelors degree in journalism, surely there would have been something in the records.  

 He sat and looked at the road for some time deciding if he should put the undue stress on his car trying to traverse such a road.  He soon decided that there was not much that could hurt his dented up old pea green Pinto anyway and slowly began grinding his way down the old ruts.  He tried to stay on top, one tire on the middle and one to either side anywhere he could, mostly to stay out of the crater sized holes that lay scattered along the road, most of which where hidden from view by over hanging grass anyway.  He thought it very odd that he had not seen so much as a sparrow since he had turned off the blacktop.  There seemed to be nothing living anywhere.  As he drove by a small clump of dead locust trees he noticed something sitting in the top of one of the trees.  It was a vulture; in fact there were three of them. 

James came to an old stretched wire gate just before the crest of the hill.  There was an old chain and padlock keeping anyone from opening the gate.  Both looked as if they had been there since the dawn of time, but had stood the test because they were still solid as the day they had been hung there.  James sat for a moment looking at the gate, wondering if he should just turn around and forget about it.  But there was something in the back of his mind that told him to see what was on the other side of that hill.  He shut the engine off and waited as it deiseled out and shuttered a moment before he let off the clutch. 

 As he climbed out of his car he noticed something beside the gate.  As he walked up to the gate he saw that it was a sign.  The tall grass had long since over grown it but there was a sign there.   James began to move the grass out of the way so that he could read it.  The more he moved out of the way, the more he realized, this was not just a sign, this was a memorial marker.  As he got enough grass out of the way so that he could read the sign he stood straight and stumbled backward so fast that he left his feet where they were and fell on his butt.  Still scrambling back he ran into an old fence post he hadn’t seen and was stopped in his tracks.

 There is no way that sign said what he thought he read.  It isn’t possible.  How can it…he noticed the vultures were no longer in the trees.  They were now sitting in front of his car on top of three fence posts.  James was breathing hard now and beginning to sweat through his nice button up shirt.  This is not happening, he thought to himself.  He didn’t know if he could handle reading it again but he had to make sure.  Slowly he got to his feet and worked up the courage to read the sign again.  As he approached the sign he brushed away the grass and slowly read the words. 

‘This sign was placed here in fond memory of,