The Second Coming

accounted for by historical or sociological theory. Accordingly, they may be said to be in some fashion or other a sign. Wouldn’t you agree?”
    â€œThe Jews?” repeated Father Weatherbee, turning his other ear.
    â€œMy own hunch,” said Will Barrett, hitching his chair even closer to the desk while Father Weatherbee rolled his chair back, “is that the Apostolic Succession involved a laying on of hands, right? This goes back to Christ himself, a Jew, a unique historical phenomenon, as unique as the Jews. Present-day Jews, whether or not they have departed North Carolina for Israel, similarly trace their origins to the same place and to kinsmen of Jesus, right? Modern historians agree there is no scientific explanation for the strange history of the Jews—”
    He paused, frowning, wondering where he had gotten such an idea. Who were these “modern historians”? He couldn’t think of a one. “Excuse me, Father, please bear with me a moment.” (Father? Perhaps he didn’t like to be called Father? Reverend? Mister? Sir?) “What I am suggesting is that though I am an unbeliever, it does not follow that your belief, the belief of the church, is untrue, that in fact it may be true, and if it is, the Jews may be the clue. Doesn’t Scripture tell us that salvation comes from the Jews? At any rate, the Jews are the common denominator between us. That is to say, I am not a believer but I believe I am on the track of something. I may also tell you that I have the gift of discerning people and can tell when they know something I don’t know. Accordingly, I am willing to be told whatever it is you seem to know and I will attend carefully to what you say. It is on these grounds that I ask you to perform the ceremony. In fact, I demand it—ha ha—if that is what it takes. You can’t turn down a penitent, can you? We are also willing to take instructions, as long as you recognize I cannot and will not accept all of your dogmas. Unless of course you have the authority to tell me something I don’t know. Do you?” Will Barrett was leaning halfway across the desk.
    Father Weatherbee’s chair had rolled back until it hit the wall. His white eye spun. His good bloodshot eye looked past his nose bridge at Will Barrett as if he were a cobra swaying atop his desk.
    â€œOh dear,” he sighed. “Surely it would seem that Father Curl is your man—though of course I should be glad to be of any assistance I can.”
    â€œNo, you’re my man. I perceive that you seem to know something—and that by the same token Jack Curl does not.”
    â€œOh dear,” said Father Weatherbee and, sinking in his chair, appeared to be muttering to himself. He looked around vaguely and spoke so softly that Will Barrett had to cup his good ear. “It seems I understand simple foreign folk better than my own people. It seems I understand every country in the world better than my own country.” He craned up his neck like a Philippine bird and looked in every direction except Will Barrett’s. “How can we be the best dearest most generous people on earth, and at the same time so unhappy? How harsh everyone is here! How restless! How impatient! How worried! How sarcastic! How unhappy! How hateful! How pleasure-loving! How lascivious! Above all, how selfish! Why is it that we have more than any other people, are more generous with what we have, and yet are so selfish and unhappy? Why do we think of nothing but our own pleasure? I cannot believe my eyes at what I see on television. It makes me blush with shame. Did you know that pleasure-seeking leads to cruelty? That is why more and more people beat their children. Children interfere with pleasure. Do you hate children? Why can’t we be grateful for our great blessings and thank God?” As he gazed down at the desk, he seemed to have forgotten Will Barrett. His voice sank to a whisper. “Why is it that Americans who are the best dearest most generous people on earth are so unhappy?” He shook his head. “I don’t—”
    â€œYes! Right!” said Will Barrett excitedly and leaned even closer. “That is why I say it is so important to recognize a sign when you—”
    But the old priest did not seem to be listening. “There is a tiny village in Mindanao near Naga-Naga on the coast which I was able to visit only once a year. They are as poor as