on january 1, 2015, johnny wilson woke up in the stairwell of his building. after ringing in the new year at billy’s bar downstairs, he had been unable to navigate the last few feet to the door of his apartment.
later that month it was announced that the wal-mart johnny had been working in since 1998 was consolidating with another at a new location. johnny, who had been warned about his declining job performance, was not invited to work at the new location. he decided to be in no hurry to seek new employment, as, besides the unemployment benefits he could collect, he still had some money from the sale of his childhood home, and he began spending both afternoons and nights at billy’s.
on the night of march 16, alberto, the bartender at billy’s, cut johnny off after he fell off his stool. instead of going up to his room, johnny decided to seek some fresh air, and wandered down to the river.
a big bearded man was preaching to a few onlookers. he did not carry or flourish a prayerbook or bible, but punched the air with his fists. although johnny did not know that his own father, joe, had been such a preacher, the apple does not fall far from the tree, and he found himself responding to the man’s words.
“he looks like a jew,” one of the onlookers said to another, about the preacher.
“brother clyde is as christian as you or me,” the other man replied. “you just listen up.”
although johnny had no way of knowing, brother clyde’s message was the opposite of joe’s. where joe had preached the lord’s mercy, clyde dwelt on the relentless punishment due the unrepentant sinner. johnny took solace in his words, in no way applying them to himself, but to those who had done him wrong, such as the phoenix ashes brigade, and his former employers,
as he listened to brother clyde’s thundering voice, a great light flooded johnny, and he began to weep.
on june 16, donald trump formally announced his candidacy for president of the united states.
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