The Rider

He could hear them all inside, praying and shouting. Amens rang out hollowly from the church's rafters only to get lost in the dry heat of the open plains. Dumb place for a church really, Dan thought as he buried the tips of his bared toes into the parched soil. It was really old, and far from town, and it had a funny smell. It was amazing that it was still standing. They had been coming to it since the church in town had burnt to the ground just a few weeks ago in the fire that had taken out half of the local inhabitants.

The heat from the afternoon sun poured down on the back of Daniel's neck. It was early so it would only get hotter as the day progressed. There was no shelter from it. Not even on the stoop he sat on. Nothing could stop the burning sun.

Nothing could stop the burning.

Daniel reached out his chubby hand to grasp a nearby stick. He set himself the task of sketching out some doodles. His artwork never lasted long, not that the feet of the good Christians huddled within would heed the labors of one small boy. They would be pouring forth in a few hours and tromp down the lane back to their lonely houses where they would surely pray some more.

Prayer didn't get you much of anywhere, Daniel thought to himself, not for the first time. But sometimes it was all one had. That's what his pa had told him. But pa was dead, had been for over a year now. Not that it was a bad thing. Nope, he wasn't suffering any more with the cancer. That's what ma said. Sister said they were all crazy, and that's why she left.

The eight-year-old boy rubbed his brow thoughtfully. He was feeling rather stupid and sleepy, perhaps much the way Alice felt before she fell down the rabbit hole. But at least she had been in a cool place, a hall, a pool of tears, a lush, green forest. He shouldn't have made ma mad at him and then he wouldn't be out here; he'd be inside where it wasn't any cooler but at least it was shaded.

Daniel squinted into the horizon. Nothing, there was nothing. Not man, beast or crop. A second dust bowl, isn't that what ma called it. It was global warming. It was something Spanish, el dino. It didn't really matter what it was. All the little boy knew was that it was damn hot. That people were restless and they talked of some dark thing coming, a terrible thing that would usher in a new life. It was on the lips of every person, even on the TV, talked up by the evangelists that always seemed to bless the dully-lit screen in their living room.

The end of the world, the second coming of Jesus, the rapture.

Rapture?

Perhaps, but what does a little boy care? Daniel just wanted some cold water and relief from the heat. He wanted to stop coming to church every day. It was so boring. And pointless. He wanted his daddy back and his old ma who used to laugh and sing in the kitchen. Not the woman who dressed in black despite the heat. Not the woman who prayed for everything, who asked God questions day in and out.

Once Daniel had asked her if she thought maybe God was busy and didn't have time for her stupid questions. He'd got a lickin' for that. He been getting a lot of those lately he remembered with a grimace. He was sure he'd get a lot more. Hell raiser, he thought proudly, that's what pa called him.

A small smile lit the boys face and he looked up again.

He closed his eyes briefly.

When he opened them again, there was a man on a white horse beside him.

Dan blinked his eyes hard but the man and the horse remained. He then rubbed them and heard a little laugh come from the guy. Dan stared. It was hard not to when even the dogs refused to come out from under the houses. And horses, all the ones he saw were used up, dry, almost on the brink of death along with all the other livestock. But this horse was fine, more then fine. Somehow it gleamed even under the fine spray of dust that covered it and its rider as if they'd come a long way through the parched land.

The man was something to look at too, dark, like an Indian, with black hair braided. He wore ordinary clothes -- light brown jeans and shirt. Course they could have once been white. Dan couldn't tell because of the dust and the sun. He wore a cowboy hat with a ring of feathers around it. On his back was slung a bow, but if he had a quiver of arrows, the boy didn't see it. Nor did he see a water bottle.

"Mister, you need some help, water, directions? I can go in and ask my ma for our water bottle. There ain't no store or nothin' for some ways."

"And have you interrupt them, not yet boy." The man's voice was strong. It almost hurt the boy's ears even though he was sure the guy was speaking softly.

He rode in from the desert because he had been called to do so. The heat did not touch him and he had no need for water. His shape seemed familiar and foreign, though when he encountered the small boy he felt his difference acutely. He was so much larger.

Daniel stood up, in respect and curiosity. He wanted to get a better look. The sun was in his eyes. He stilled when he saw the man's face. Leathery, weather worn, ageless but with eyes as blue and electric as the sky behind him. Eyes so blue they caused the boy to shiver. He shifted his gaze quickly to the man's parched, cracked lips and then sat back down. He didn't want a better look, he decided.

"Why are you not with the faithful; have you no need to pray?"

"Ma sent me to sit and think on my attitude," the boy admitted truthfully. He heard the guy chuckle softly and somehow that made him feel a little better. He decided to go on.

It wasn't such a strange thing, to begin it here. There were others at work elsewhere, and this was God's country. He would easily rip this nation apart from the inside out.

"I asked my ma why we came here every day to pray and not just like on Sunday anymore. Seems like God has better things to do then listen to us all the time."

"What makes you think that the Almighty could ever be tasked, boy?"

"Well it ain't that it's just God helps them who helps themselves. He ain't just gonna step in and make it all right." The boy looked up to see if the man was going to yell at him like the other grownups, but he was looking ahead as if thinking of something entirely different. Daniel was used to grownups ignoring him.

"He's stepped in before."

"Yeah with floods and stuff, but that was a long time ago. And he promised no more of those, though I think we could use one now." The man chuckled again and Dan felt encouraged. This guy was all right.

"You know your verse well."

"Nope," Daniel admitted. The guy looked at him sharply his face contorting slightly.

Was this why he had been summoned?

He had not wanted to leave the sanctuary after all.

But the will of man was calling to him, even now. The will of man…Perhaps? Now was the time. The sweetest rapture, lost among souls, the damned, the pain and suffering. Now was the time? The waves, the fires. Who spoke the words that called him forth on this ride? Was it He, was it them? Who calls even now?

"I mean I understand some things…" Dan trailed off looking back down at his toes, feeling very small. Maybe the guy wasn't all right?

"Tell me." The man sounded bemused and also perplexed. Perhaps he was lost Daniel thought to himself, like a child in a wonderful, faraway land. Maybe he had escaped from somewhere, maybe a hospital. Daniel wished he could help the man find his way.

He would know what the boy thought. He felt no reason to stop…but perhaps something…

"Well, see it's difficult, and I don't really know it all yet."

"The best of us don't," the rider said sagely.

"Well ma and my pa, he's gone now, my sister says they're old fashioned in how they think. They take things at face value. If a poem's about flowers, then it's about flowers. If a verse says something then that's what it means.

"But my sister says that all things stand in the shadows, in metaford."

"Metaphor," he corrected sitting taller in the saddle.

"Yeah that. We have to shine a light in order to see what's lurking underneath. But my pa said that you should be careful of that because you might not like what you see, in fact you might see more then you should."

Fear and wonder. Pain and light. Darkness and love. It was all here.

"Can I tell you something?" the man asked, leaning over a bit. A wicked smile touched his lips as he came closer to the boy. Daniel wished he wouldn't, wished he'd stay back. His eyes…But he nodded yes, whatever the man had to say it must be important.

"The end is near." He sat back up and looked at the horizon again.

The boy furrowed his brow. Now what was that supposed to mean anyway? It could mean anything, millions of things. Daniel stared hard at the man.

"What have you to say of this?" he demanded sullenly, seriously.

"I don't rightly know what you mean Mister. But it really don't matter."

Will creates a paradox, vortex into forever. But everything must end.

"I'm not going to worry about it. That's what I've been trying to tell my ma, and maybe you should hear it too, mister. Pardon me, but you seem to listen better then most. See I have nothing to worry about. I try and be good and that's all I see that there is. The world is good and bad, always will be, and so will I. The way I see it, even if there is a plan I don't know it, if there isn't then it doesn't matter. Only one force knows it all, but then again, maybe… It don't matter much. The truth will set me free they say. Well, I won't know it till the end, but I won't worry. It will come when it does."

Faith is a strange creature crawling about the hills and valleys. Even in this wasteland it is seen reflected in the eyes of a child.

The rider opened his mouth as if there were something else he wanted to say, to explain.

"I don't want to know what you mean, mister, I don't think anyone should know."

"Perhaps not," the man said thoughtfully, sitting back in his saddle. After a few moments he pulled on the reins of his horse who turned obediently around. The horse took a few steps back to where it must have come from.

"Where you off to, Mister?" Daniel asked, surging to his feet. His stomach lurched wildly, hopefully and sadly, for some strange reason. The man looked back at him, tipped his hat and winked.

"Man's got a right to change his mind." He kicked his horse forward into a haze of heat. Daniel squinted into the harsh sun to watch him go. He faded out more slowly than he had appeared.

Dan sat back down on the stoop. He picked up his stick again and began to doodle. That man, he wouldn't have destroyed his pictures, he was sure of it. That man. Daniel wondered if he would ever see him again. He wondered if he ever wanted to.

Angels and devils, spirits and the like, what do they matter to one who has the understanding, the faith, of a child?