James Roderick Boyleton had been a prophet of the Lord since the age of seven. The anointing of God lay upon his head, yea, even the third work of grace, baptism in the Holy Ghost, and in that consecration the spirit of confusion had been lifted from upon him, and all the world’s weariness and illusion, all its staggering canons of evil and illness and perversion, all the harried trumpetings of its corruptions and of its spent fleshliness had been revealed to him, even at so green and tender an age, for what they truly were—the works of the devil, of principalities, of powers, of the rulers of the darkness of this world—and together with the indwelling of the Holy Ghost, he had received and would continue to be blessed with the gifts of the Spirit. He had sloughed off the works of the god of this world who has blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine upon them. James was destined to become a great preacher. Everyone said so. His mother always told the same story. When friends or family came to visit and the children played church, from the time when James was barely able to speak everyone agreed that he should play the preacher—from the mouth of babes—which he did with a zeal that inspired in his parents great joy and hope for the future, even if at times the intensity of emotion in one so young left them with an uneasiness that they found difficult to comprehend. When he tarried at the altar, the Holy Ghost never failed to descend upon him with a sound as of a rushing wind and cloven tongues as of fire, just as it had upon the apostles on the day of Pentecost. Joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: every fruit of the Spirit had been his and likewise every gift and endowment.

Slouching back to Akron from the dead plains of Indiana after the plant he had been working at closed down and crept off to Mexico upon the passage of NAFTA, James thanked the Lord for the rebuke, and he thanked the Lord that his sister had given him a place to stay in the sagging beige house balanced near the top of Newton Street, which crawled up from the depths of Middlebury to Goodyear Heights, a hill that from those depths appeared like unto Horeb or Sinai, and seemed at first glance not to divide space, as the firmament divided the waters from the waters, and as would be appropriate for those chartered streets, but to penetrate into the depths and mysteries of time itself, as if the sole purpose of its chartered existence, as devised in the feverish brain of that little Napoleon of the rubber industry, Frank Seiberling, were to regulate the flow of time across the landscape of his laborers’ works and days, to bring the ever-shifting and distant inexactitudes of temporal existence—with its whispering incantations and inexhaustible longings—into sharp, palpable relief, to punch the timecard in the soul and stand working the appointed time on her assembly line, waiting for the whistle to blow.

His sister Angela shared the house with her two adult children, whose father had abandoned the family years earlier to smoke and drink and live among the sinners out in the world. James was not particularly fond of his nephew David, a backslider who smoked and cussed and hung out with the wrong sort and rarely went to church, and had even been arrested for a few petty crimes, but he had always adored David’s sister Andrea, in spite of her own backsliding ways—listening to worldly music and wearing pants and spending time with unsavory characters, especially her boyfriend. James’ corner of the basement wasn’t much, but with a bit of plywood, carpet, a sofa-bed and a few other random pieces of furniture from Goodwill, he had set up a pretty respectable place for prayer and Bible study, if he did say so himself.

It was a slow morning at the Six-Corners Dairy Mart where James was shift manager, when a gaunt young man with feathery strands of straight blond hair sticking out from beneath the hood of his sweatshirt scurried across the parking lot, entered the store and pretended to look at merchandise while glancing at James from time to time. He ambled over to the fridge, grabbed a 40-ounce bottle of Olde English 800 and headed to the cash register. As he set the bottle down on the counter, he raised his other arm and pointed a pistol at James.

“In Jesus’ name…”

The man reached into the pocket of his sweatshirt, pulled out a crumbled plastic bag and tossed it onto the counter.

“Put the cash in the bag, motherfucker.”

James saw the gun and heard the voice of the young man. He thought of Victoria. She had come back from a prayer meeting years before, set her Bible on the kitchen table, sat down and cried.

“James, I don’t know how to say this.” She swallowed. “I’m leaving.”

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I’ve already spoken with my sister. I’m going to stay with her till I can find a place.”

They sat for several minutes in silence.

“I think you’d better pray on this.”

“I have, James.”

“This is not of God, Victoria. Do you think He’d answer your prayers contrary to scripture?”

“I’m sorry, James. I just can’t go on like this.”

“You need to pray though this. Lay it down. All things must be done in decency and order. You need to walk with Him. Repent. Renounce this spirit and repent.” James took a step towards her, placed his hand upon her head and looked towards the heavens, and said, “In the name of Jesus, by His power and authority, I command you spirit of willfulness to leave this woman now, together with the spirits of darkness who are with you. With these words in Jesus’ name I bind all evil spirits in this place, and all evil spirits in this woman, and forbid ye act in any way as the adversary enjoineth. For though we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh: the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of strong holds; casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God. Victoria, repent. Repent and give not the devil a foothold. Victoria, with this prayer I set you free by the sword of the Holy Spirit, and all this I do in Jesus’ name. In Jesus’ name. Amen.”

Then his body began to shake violently, and together they spoke in tongues, filled with the Spirit for what seemed like hours, until James collapsed in exhaustion by her side. When he awoke, light was peeking in around the edges of the drawn curtains and Victoria was gone. She had taken some clothes, her photograph album, her family Bible, and her study Bible.

James took his eyes off the gun, looked the man in the eye and said, “You didn’t come here by chance.”

“Shut your mouth and put the fucking money in the bag. And toss in some Marlboro Reds, while you’re at it.”

“Jesus led you here because He wants to give you the gift of life.”

James’ arms began to tremble and in that moment he saw clearly what the Lord demanded of him that day. He stepped out from behind the counter, extended his hand, no longer trembling but steady with the confidence of complete faith, held fast by the grace and glory of Him who walked upon the waves, palm upwards, toward the young man and said, “This thing is real.”

The man took a step back, lowered the gun and said, “Motherfucker, this thing is real.” He then raised the gun chest-high and fired three shots, ran behind the counter, emptied the register and turned to leave. Then, remembering the Marlboros, he turned back and grabbed a couple of cartons before heading out the door.

When the bullets pierced his chest, James was engulfed in joy and jubilation as the infilling of the Holy Ghost came over him, and a bounteous exultation and boundless bliss and blessedness overcame his spirit, and his face was made unveiled beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, and he was changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord. He crashed against the candy shelf and fell sprawling on the floor amidst the Mars bars and Butterfingers and Everlasting Gobstoppers, as the Little Debbie snack cake display loomed over him, Debbie’s summery smile unmoved by the scene before her.

And when all these things had come to pass, James struggled to his feet and staggered through the door. Once outside he stumbled and fell to the ground in the parking lot. The clouds then parted and the heavens opened up to James and he beheld a river of blood like unto a great torrent bursting forth from the massive cistern that lay hidden beneath the hill in Reservoir Park. And the great river of blood was like unto a torrent rushing down from Goodyear Heights, and the river was a great flood that flowed through the streets of the city, covering sidewalk and devilstrip, asphalt and parking lot, and the sound of the torrent was as the roaring of lions and the sound of seven thunders uttering their voices. And in the fiftieth year of James’ life, in the sixth month of the year, on the twenty-third day of the month, on that same day were all the fountains of the great deep broken up, and the springs of the abyss were opened with great rushing of blood as in a flood of many waters, and the flood increased upon the streets of the city and rose up to the houses of the people of the city. And the blood was as molten lava rushing forth from the fountains of the great deep, for it burnt everything it came across and the flames and black smoke were like unto Gehenna itself, consuming the houses and the men and the women and the children of the city. If any man have an ear, let him hear. And the voices of the sinners were a great lamentation, for they cried out after mercy and forgiveness with great gnashing of teeth and vexation of spirit, and the sound of their lamentation was like unto lightnings and thunderings and the raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own shame, and the light of their eyes had become like unto wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness of darkness forever. In that forever-darkness of blackness their prayers and promises went unheeded, and their prayers turned to blasphemies and speakings of darkness, for they had hardened their hearts against the Lord. If any man have an ear, let him hear. And black smoke billowed up from the burning flesh of the sinners of the city, and it rose toward the heavens as if it were the smoke of the altar of the Temple in Jerusalem, as if it were the sweet smoke of incense, pleasing to the Lord. And from the abyss gaping beneath Reservoir Park a sign appeared: and behold a great red dragon having seven heads and ten horns, and seven broken crowns upon his heads, and every head bore the face of a man disfigured with rage and twisted into incoherence. And the tail of the dragon drew the burning bodies of the sinners of the city into the abyss, the men and the women and the children of the city, and the abyss beneath the city was like unto a great furnace, and it gaped its fiery maw and consumed the flesh of the sinners of the city. And the voice of many angels rose up around the corporate headquarters of the Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company, and their number was ten thousand times ten thousand, thousands upon thousands of angels rejoicing in the smoke and the flame and the ash of the burning flesh of the sinners of the city. And James lifted up his eyes and he saw six angels standing on the six corners of the place where Brittain Road and Eastland Avenue and Eastwood Avenue formed a great crossroads, one angel to each corner of the crossroads, and to these six angels it was given to smite the earth and the sea and all that were therein. And there appeared unto James another angel ascending from the East, clothed in a cloud and in fire, and his face was as it were the sun, and his feet as pillars of fire, and this angel bore a sword as a flame of fire and he cried out unto the six angels, and his voice was as a great rushing of waters saying, Smite not the earth, neither the sea, nor the rivers of the earth, till we have sealed the servants of the Lord our God in their foreheads. And the angel bore his sword and when it turned this way and that it was like unto a great rainbow over Goodyear Heights. And with his left hand the angel took up the saints of God, and with his right hand he set the seal of the Lord God upon their foreheads. And the bodies of the saints were lifted up, and with arms outstretched in victory, they were carried heavenward by angels of the Lord. And James then heard a great voice out of the corporate headquarters of the Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company, saying to the seven angels, Go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the face of all the earth. And the first angel went, and poured out his vial upon the earth; and there fell a noisome and grievous sore upon the men and the women and the children, upon all the sinners of the city and the sinners of all the earth. And the second angel poured out his vial upon the sea; and it became as the blood of a dead man: and every living soul that dwelt in the depths thereof went down to the blackness of darkness forever. And the third angel poured out his vial upon the rivers and the fountains of the waters of the earth; and they became blood. And the fourth angel poured out his vial upon the sun; and power was given unto him to scorch with fire all the sinners of the city and the sinners of all the earth. And the fifth angel poured out his vial upon the cistern that lay beneath Reservoir Park; and the cistern was full of darkness; and the sinners of all the earth gnawed their tongues for pain and blasphemed the God of heaven because of their pains and their sores and repented not of their deeds. And the sixth angel poured out his vial upon the great river Cuyahoga; and the water thereof was dried up. And the seventh angel went forth and poured out his vial into the air; and there came a great voice out of the corporate headquarters of the Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company, saying, It is done.

James looked heavenward, and lo, he beheld the Dairy Mart logo on the sign above him. He coughed up bubbling black blood and bile, closed his eyes and smiled.

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Eric T. Racher lives in Riga, Latvia. His work has appeared in Exacting Clam, Socrates on the Beach, Literary Imagination, Keep Planning, ballast, and elsewhere.