Bishop Edward's visit was relatively short. He merely smiled at Antonio as they passed in the corridor. Then, Antonio was taken into the lovely office of Archbishop Domingo del La Cruz. This good man, appointed in 2024, when the previous Nuncio died suddenly, was a personal friend of Pope Leo XIV, or Anselm as he was called by all. The Archbishop in the Republic was called by his proper names. One of the things Antonio noticed immediately was a huge hourglass on the desk of the Nuncio. It look ancient, possibly one of the original ones from 8th Century France. The hourglass seemed more like a work of art than a tool for telling time. The odd thing which caught Antonio's attention was that there was no sand in the glass. It was empty.
"Ah, like many others, you have noticed my treasure, the hourglass. It was made in 920, by a monk in Flanders. It had sand in it then. You may wonder, young Antonio, why I keep an hourglass which has no sand."
"Well, Your Excellency, I did wonder at it." The Archbishop showed Antonio a comfortable chair and then the Nuncio sat next to him. He took the hourglass off the desk and put it on a round table between the two chairs. Antonio noticed for the first time how old the Nuncio was. He seemed to be in his eighties.
"This glass is what I call the "hora de vidrio", the "hour glass". And, why? The glass has lost its sand, which means there is no longer any time. I believe we are outside of normal time, in, let me say, the last times, which are apocalyptic, the ending of all time. This glass of the hour reminds me that all I have is this moment, this time, and not a small pile at the top, or any at the bottom. All time is now one."
Antonio shifted a bit uncomfortably in his chair. He was a realist, a man of action and a practical man. To philosophize about the time required an imagination or a philosophic view which challenged him.
Perhaps, ironically, this young priest was a man of the hour, but he did not see this.
"We are people of the hour, people of this time. What we do with this time makes us a saint, or a son of perdition. There is no longer a middle way. The Hour Glass, my hora de vidrio, also reminds me to be sober, courageous, temperate, prudent, just."
The Archbishop put the hourglass back on his desk. He turned back to Antonio. "You are my main hope for the lower states, but the global armies have crossed the Mississippi River. They intend to invade the Republic soon. The Chinese cannot fight as the glaciers in the north have stopped their supply routes. They cannot ship or fly anything to the troops. Sooner or later, these men will disperse or be overcome by the citizens.
Mexico and the Republic shoot down any supply drones or planes which come into Texas or Mexican air space. For a short time, we are free of Chinese incursions. But, the threat from the East grows."
The Archbishop got up and served water to Antonio. For the first time, Antonio noticed the secretary, another young priest, standing in the shadows in the corner.
"I am going to give you a choice, Antonio. You may go back to serving the Catholics in Louisiana and Mississippi, or you may take on another challenge I am offering you."
The Archbishop stood up and handed Antonio folded sheets of paper.
"We are moving out of the northern regions because of the glaciers. We are not in The Wilderness because of the radiation. We are not in the East, because of the schismatics who kill our priests, and, indeed, our bishops. But, we are in the occupied Chinese territories of Arizona and New Mexico. I have these letters from Catholics there, who are begging for a priest. Will you consider going to Queen Creek? I shall then send Bishop Edward to you old territory in order to re-organize and encourage vocations there."
Antonio wondered if the Archbishop knew that the Guzmans, now all with God, has originated on the borders of the very state where he would be going. Most likely, the Archbishop knew each priest's family history. Antonio Guzman-Costello could not say no. Some of these people could be his own. But, he grieved at leaving his small, barn communities of Louisiana and Mississippi. But, he also knew that Bishop Edward would find thriving, but small communities in places not yet daily harassed by armies.
"Your Excellency, may I ask what you told Bishop Edward?"
The Archbishop smiled. "Ah, yes. I told him he would be sent to Louisiana and Mississippi as a flying bishop."
Antonio felt relieved, as his heart and the Archbishop's spirit had determined God's Will. The Nuncio stood up and Antonio knelt for a blessing.
"Dear young priest, I have two more things to say to you. The first is to never forget the Hour Glass. The second is that I shall never meet with you again."
The priest looked at the floor. Tears came to his eyes, tears of sadness and uncertainty. The Nuncio waved for his secretary who led Antonio out of the office.
Outside the building, Bishop Edward was waiting for Antonio."Do you know you must take time for a briefing? I am staying at Our Lady of Walsingham and I am instructed to take you there to stay for a few days. Can you go now?"
Antonio said, "I have no other place to go until I leave for the Chinese territories. Let's go."
The two got into a black official car and left for Shadyvilla Lane.
To be continued.....
