The wind was cool, and somber that night. Unlike most nights on this tropical island, scarce few wandered the outstretch of the wide, sandy beaches. There was no neccessary phenomenon for this. It just happened to be one of those nights.
With the moonlight stretching wide across the white sands, an actual shadow followed a solitary figure. His bare feet meeting the surface of the swaying waves, this man strolled across the surface of the water with a confused nonchalance.
Making landfall without missing a step, he continued to walk quietly, leaving no footprints in the sand. The tattered crimson t-shirt hanging from his near-six-foot frame rippled with the constant ocean gust. Shaggy, unkept black hair sat mercilessly down his shoulders. A full black beard covered most of his face, showcasing dried morsels of old bread lodged in dirty bits. Tattered bluejeans whipped against his ankles as he made his way.
He strolled for over an hour, his stride seemingly with purpose. Yet, there was a great confusion to his eyes. Walking under a humming streelight, he paused to glance up at a shaded building nestled up on a cordoned hill.
He stared into the darkness with stark ambiguity. Then, without sound or word, continued on his way.
Walking on for another hour, he passed by a dimly lit factory, pausing again. Staring along the drive towards the building, he studied the quiet calm, barely catching the drifts of laughter from within.
The light hint of purple from his eyes caught the silver glow of the streetlight above, giving off a brief moment of confusion in his expression.
And, again, he continued on.
After another two hours of steady pace, and silence, he suddenly came to a dead halt. He looked around slowly, taking in the long stretch of night road. Then, turned, walking directly off the side of the road, and into the jungle.
Branches and vines brushed his body with constant molestation. Yet, he felt nothing as his wandering lead him on some form of path throught the dark, dank growth.
Forty-five minutes later, he walked out of the jungle into a clearing. Never pausing, he stared up at the massive volcanic horizon. And, just for a moment, a look of recognition passed his expression. But, just for a moment.
Striding across the clearing, he neared what appeared to be an old villa, of a sort. Kerosene lamps dotted a gravely drive, giving the lavish place a subtle, homey charm. An enormous stable sat off to the side of the small estate, a strange cooing sound coming from inside.
As he neared the front door of the home, it suddenly opened quickly, releasing seven men of asian descent. They swarmed around the figure with a stern silence, causing him to come to a complete halt.
He looked at the young men, some no older than seventeen. Each one stared at him cautiously, holding his journey in check with merely the glare of their eyes.
"Good evening, sir...." an elderly figure appeared in the doorway. "....may I help you with something?"
The stranger looked at the figure for a moment, still silent.
"You..." he began. "....you are not him...."
"I'm sorry, sir..." the elderly gentlman replied. "....who exactly are you looking for at this time of night?"
The stranger stared at him confused.
"I...don't know...." he replied sincerely. "....but you are not him...."
He turned, starting to walk away. Two of the men blocking him suddenly stumbled back, as something only felt brushed them back. The stranger simply continued to walk away without a word. The two young men looked at each other, all of them looking back at the elderly gentleman in the doorway for intructions. He nodded, putting them at ease.
"Sir?" the elderly man called King addressed the leaving stranger. "Perhaps we can help you?"
The stranger paused, looking back.
"...I...thank you....but I do not believe so..." he replied.
"Who are you, sir? What is your name?" King asked.
The disheveled man turned, beginning to walk away...
"...don't you know?" he said, the calm voice drifting over his shoulder, as he made his way down the driveway. "...I am Jesus Christ..."
