Nobody told Chester that collecting the girls for the “prophecy” would be so hard. They all came willingly but each had to look like a kidnapping, making it that much harder. Chester was tired of religious nuts and following orders. Still, every time he almost walked away he thought about Nicole’s ass. He was pretty sure there was something about a kid in the lunatic ravings of her father.
He thought about that now, getting her pregnant. With the last girl settled in he stumbled upstairs. As he fell through time and space he had the old wish, the one from his fast food slinging days, that he would wake up as anyone but him. He hit REM before the mattress.
When Chester’s body woke the inhabitant found himself under Nicole’s careful scrutiny.
“I felt something, is it finally happening?” She worried her lower lip.
“It is only the first of the seven signs.” The interloper responded in almost Chester’s voice.
Chester woke in a bed far too large, between sheets far too luxurious. He was not the sharpest tack in the box, but Chester’s mama didn’t raise no idiots. He was someone else. How was he going to tap Nicole now?
Chester screamed when he peered into Templeton’s face in the mirror. Nicole had some daddy issues but this was surely a deal breaker. So great was Chester’s horror that it took him a good five minutes to realize, he might be able to throw a monkey wrench in this whole prophecy thing.
Chester quickly discovered that walking a day in another man’s wingtips was not worth it. Templeton was old as time, so breakfast was grapefruit and bran. Chester thought he might sneak something with flavor but the battleaxe of a maid kept close watch.
The rest of the day was too busy for Chester’s liking. Most of it he spent helping people pray or listening to their problems. Man, these people wouldn’t shut up about their sins. Their faith took the joy out of everything Chester loved. Praying was worse, Templeton had arthritis in his knees. Then there was choir practice, three dozen tone-deaf kids later and Chester was looking for a bell tower.
When he finally had a moment with another prophecy nutjob Chester got to ask some questions. Why did disliking the answers surprise him?
“Why do we need to separate the men and women?”
“Purity, father.” Jojo the zealot answered as if being quized.
“Like… how the Aryans wanted purity?”
“No! Of course not. Purity of the soul by removing temptation of the flesh.”
“How will we reproduce then?”
“You know that, father.”
“Okay, but can’t we do Christworld without the celibacy camps?”
“Do I need to report this doubt and possible blasphemy to the others?”
That took some getting out of. It involved a council and some hellfire preaching and threatening like Chester knew Templeton to deliver. When he finally fell exhausted into another man’s bed he had a simple thought. I will play my part if I can just stop being anyone else.
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