“This is Bravo, come back.”
“Malcom, the President has been struck.”
“In the head?”
“Oh—that’s not good. He won’t be able to remember his own name.”
“You’re the closest ambulance to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Check it out—will you?”
“I’m on it!”
Malcom stepped on the gas.
“What do we do with Jesus?” I asked.
“Perhaps, he can save Joe Biden from himself.”
“That would be a miracle.”
I felt anxious for the first time. America needed me, and Malcom too. Heck, history was waiting for us, to sign our names where they didn’t belong. There he was… white hair and pale skin, lying on the lawn, like a child counting the stars.
“Who am I?”
Malcom parked the ambulance, and our EMTs went to work on his brain.
“We’ll have to wrap your head like a mummy, sir.”
“Am I God?” Mr. Biden asked.
“No— you’re the President.”
“The President of Egypt?”
“No—how did you get hit on the head?”
“She was wearing a red dress…”
I looked at his face. There was lipstick there. “Jesus—would you come here for a moment?”
Malcom gave me a look, that said I was crazy. I didn’t care.
Jesus staggered out of our ambulance with wine. “I voted for the other guy.”
“Would you lay hands on the President?”
“If you want me to.”
The Lord said a few careful words that I couldn’t understand, and Biden’s eyes turned blue, for the first time. “That bitch! She stole my wallet.”
“Your wallet, sir? Here it is.” Malcom held-up one of those Velcro bill-folds from the 1980s, and I noticed Biden was wearing Velcro shoes too.
“No—that’s not it,” the President said. “It’s the Gold Codes that are gone!”
“You mean, the nuclear launch codes?” I asked.
“Come to think of it, Natalia had an accent…”
“Oh—my Lord. She must’ve been a Russian spy. The President’s codes have been compromised. How long ago were you hit?”
Biden drew a blank.
Then I felt it, like a barbecue at midnight. The air caught fire, and I was gone.
When I came-to, I was in heaven. Jesus was still drinking his wine.
“Did you think you would witness the end of the world in your lifetime?” He asked.
“Nobody knows the day or the hour,” I said wisely. “I’m just glad that I got saved.”
Jesus smiled, and drank more wine. Then I decided to write this story.