Miss Roc was as good as her word. She arranged an interview between Donald and Bishop Salacci the very next day. Her only condition was that she videotape the whole thing.
The Bishop was sweating in the intense light. He had received no instruction. He had asked for no instruction. He knew full well that the Church was the vehicle of God's message, but his heart cried out to him with perfect clarity that God had come to earth.
Was it vanity or pride to trust his heart more than the Church? But all he felt was humility before this man, the man he so eagerly awaited. He did not feel heretical. He felt as though this was the natural consequence of his lifetime of preparation and devotion. Of course he would bow to the will of Christ, if Christ were to appear before him! Had the saints done any less?
Even so, he was tormented by his decision not to consult with the hierarchy. It was an act of defiance! Perhaps they would have sent someone better suited. It's just that all of a sudden hierarchy didn't seem suited to Christ at all, this simple man at the intersection of God and Humanity.
It was during this meditation that a short balding man in a leather jacket walked up to him and handed him an envelope.
"These are the questions you will ask him," he said brusquely and then walked off.
Bishop Salacci gasped and crossed himself. The wax on the envelope was imprinted with the unmistakable Papal Seal.
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