Mr. President felt himself pressed into the generous seat of the black Secret Service special order 2020 GMC Yukon Denali with its head-turning three-dimensional grille, HID projector beam headlamps and distinctive chrome accents. During the short drive he looked out the tinted windows of the vehicle, tugged on his blue tie and readjusted his suit jacket around himself. He pulled the seatbelt away from his torso and let it embrace him. The smell of sweat and aftershave of the Secret Service detail assigned to keep him, the leader of the free world, safe mingled with the smell of the perforated leather-appointed seats which featured a unique Fractal stitching.
The country needed him he knew. He was told that he needed to show the country leadership in this trying time. From his study of Fox News over the years, Mr. President knew that religion was important to the people who elected him. So he told his staff he would go to the nearest church and give a short speech about what was going on and how he would respond.
Mr. President didn’t quite know what people did in a church, though he had been to churches, stood with pastors and had them pray for him and for the country. But he wasn’t very comfortable with it. Whatever it was it had something to do with something much bigger than him and he had trouble with that. He liked to be in control of what was around him and even in churches full of his fans there was something out beyond him that he couldn’t describe.
Still, Mr. President would go to the church. He was glad he had a Bible with him and he absently leafed through it now. His supporters talked about the Bible and how important it was a lot. He felt they would like to see it now. He would be standing outside of a church after all. The two things went together. The GMC Yukon Denali rolled to a stop on 22-inch bright-machined aluminum wheels with painted accents. He tugged his tie and adjusted his jacket. Waited for the go-ahead from his Secret Service detail to exit the vehicle.
Mr. President held a Bible in his right hand and felt its weight as he approached the place that was prepared for him in front of a sign reading, “SUNDAY SERVICES ONLINE ALL ARE WELCOME.” The June day was hot and muggy and the leather binding of the book in his hand was moist and slippery. No matter how he moved his fingers to get a better grip on it, the book slipped and shifted in his grasp. As he waited for the signal to begin from his staff he inspected the book. Does this thing have a front, he wondered. There was no title. Shouldn’t it say “Bible?”
He quietly held the book aloft, near his head, in his hand and showed it to the people who were allowed to be there. Look, see. I have a Bible here in front of this church.
A woman shouted, “Is that your Bible?”
“It’s a Bible,” he said.
“What are your thoughts right now,” asked another person in the gathered press.
As he composed his thoughts and took a breath to speak, suddenly his breath caught. He thought it was strange. He felt the need to cough or to clear his throat. He tried but couldn’t quite catch his breath. What’s happening, he wondered. Just be calm, it will pass.
He coughed a little and dropped the Bible at his feet. Mr. President looked down at the book open where it had tumbled to the ground. He glanced back up to check the reaction of the press and was shocked.
Suddenly, there before him was a gigantic woman. Like the Statue of Liberty, he thought, except she was dressed in a white robe and a sky blue shawl, like his tie. He craned his neck to look up at her. Her head was covered and her deep brown skin glowed. The sky darkened as light seemed to gather around her. His vision narrowed until all he could see was her hugeness before him. She tilted her enormous head at him and raised her eyebrows, considering him standing there before the church sign. She made a pained face and Mr. President felt he would like to know her better, to ask her what it was like to be so big. Then she quietly lifted her calloused, sandaled foot and stepped on him.