Sam started laughing too. "What can I say? There's no rhyme or reason to the way my brain works."
We all laughed.
Mark stopped briefly at the hospital on our way home so I could visit my mom. I had skipped seeing her over the weekend and knew I was in the doghouse over it as soon as I stepped into her hospital room.
"Sorry Mom," I said, pecking her on the cheek.
"Where were you all weekend?" she asked, clearly upset with me.
"Mark took me to the farmers market off of Highway 1, just past Aptos. We had such a fantastic time that we went back again yesterday with the others," I said apologetically, trying to pacify her.
My ploy worked and she finally dropped her frown. "I guess that’s reasonable, it's not like it's your job to keep me entertained," she said, sounding down.
"Mom, you know I love to visit you, and FYI, it is my job to keep you entertained. It’s the least I can do after you spent my entire life entertaining me," I said, trying to cheer her up. "Why are you so down today?" I asked, empathetic to her sour attitude.
"I'm sorry, honey, I don't mean to sound so grouchy. I’m just discouraged that I'm still cooped up here. The usual recovery for a splenectomy is a couple of days in the hospital and yet I've been here over three weeks."
"Mom, you're forgetting your other injuries. You were in a major accident for goodness sake. Plus don’t forget, you got that infection a couple weeks ago that set your recovery back even further. You heard your doctor. Having your spleen out is going make you more susceptible to every germ and infection out there. I, for one, am happy they're being cautious," I said, pulling up a chair close to her bed.
>"I know. I just feel bad. I'm not sure I have ever felt so much despair from one individual."
"Don't worry were going to fix it, we just need a plan."
I nodded my head slightly, showing that I agreed with him. Taking my focus away from the forgotten soul next to me, I glanced around the tent trying to gage the emotions of the other occupants. My surveying was interrupted when an individual entered the tent from the narrow opening in front of us.
There was no need to stereotype the individual in front of me. I could feel the evil radiating off him from where we sat. I glanced at Sam wondering if she was feeling the same thing. By the way she raised her eyebrows at me, I could tell we were on the same page.
Outwardly, his appearance was about as ordinary as you could get. He wore faded jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and non-descript running shoes. He topped of his wardrobe with a worn-out Yankees cap pulled snugly over his head. It was glaringly obvious that he deliberately dressed the way he did to draw people in. He was as unthreatening as they came, especially with the genial smile that he plastered across his face. My gifts made it easy for me to see through his ploy right away and see the monster that lurked below the innocent exterior.
We watched him approach the pulpit and wave to some of the people in the audience like they were old friends.
"Good evening everyone. I'm Alan, as many of you already know," he said in a welcoming and engaging voice, judging by the rapt attention he received. His voice had the opposite effect on me, making my skin crawled just hearing it.
"I'm so glad to see so many new faces here this evening," he said, sweeping his eyes out across the makeshift room. "If you're sitting here tonight it's because you’ve decided to take control of your life," he added as everyone around us starting clapping. We joined in reluctantly after exchanging looks.
"Are you fed up with how the government handles your hard earned money?" More applause followed his words.
"Do you get sick of illegal aliens coming in and stealing your jobs?" This time whistles sounded out along with the clapping.
"Do you hate following rules and regulations that are set by people you never voted for?" Several individual stood up while they clapped harder.
"Do you wish you could do something about it?" Everyone except for my small group rose to their feet hooting and hollering. Shawn and Mark surged to their feet, pulling Sam and me up fluidly with them so we wouldn’t stand out. Everyone clapped for several minutes before Alan finally motioned for us to sit.
Once the rowdy crowd had settled down, Alan continued, "That's why we're here. It's time that the underdog finally finds his voice. How many times has life slapped you down? How many times have those you counted on the most disappointed you, yet again? You're better than that and you can make a difference. You will no longer be the underdog anymore. I will show you and guide you to take control of your life. I will give you the incentive you need so you're not a doormat anymore." His words resulted in more applause.
I could now see how he had gained followers. He used the pain and suffering they had endured against them, letting it fester into something else. The grunge guy next to me was the first to applaud each of Alan's sentiments, and yet his despair seemed to multiply with every word Alan uttered. I could not comprehend how one individual could handle so much negativity without lashing out.
"I think that's what Alan uses. He builds their negative emotions up and presents himself as the answer to their troubles," Mark's thoughts filled my head as I nodded in agreement. The only question was what did Alan do to them once the emotions reached that level? We had come here to save one person's soul, but it was glaringly obvious that we had stumbled into something much bigger. Haniel had been right, we were untrained to handle an operation of this magnitude. I wouldn't even know where to begin, I couldn't help thinking as I glanced around the room. We definitely needed our Archangel's guidance and expertise on how we should proceed.
We were going to have to convince Haniel we were needed here.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur and before we knew it the meeting came to an end. We watched Alan make his way through the crowd, stopping to talk to several individuals. It was only then that I finally saw the girl from the day before. I watched as Alan grabbed her hand and led her out the back of the tent.
Mark, who was following my every thought, spotted her mere seconds after I found her. "We can't do anything tonight," he sent me silently.
"I know," I agreed grudgingly. Glancing around one last time as we exited the tent, I made eye contact with a massively huge guy with bad acne standing on the far side of the space. He was dressed in clothes that were a size too large for him and had obviously been chosen to camouflage his weight, but instead they only seemed to enhance it. His hair was long and covered his head like a string mop that had seen better days. The most startling feature about him though, was the hatred that not only flowed around him, but also penetrated through you when your eyes met his.
Mark once again intercepted my thoughts and glanced briefly in his direction, but quickly looked away.