Travel Bug (18 page)

“You may not buy alcohol or drugs or cigarettes with this. Understand?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Good.”

“Now stop ruining your life with the sin of addictions. Pray. Pray often. This will help you with your problem. God is father to us all. You are a child of God and he designed your body to be taken care of properly.”

“I see.”

“Yes. You see now. Go.”

“Thank you!”

The insignificant bug of a man left quickly before the stranger could see him staring at him. It was this kind of leftists so called “social justice” that could bring ruin to a good town. This town had too much work put into it by Jones and Harris to go to hell now.

“I’ll tell them both about this,” said the church member out loud.

The stranger was not to be deceived. He saw the man and knew exactly what he would do. This man was a brainless follower, who was the equivalent of a tattle tale among elementary school children. Like a totalitarian government, fundamentalism had a knack for transforming adults into tattle telling kids who loved to speak ill of others. That was the real tragedy of the town and people who were blind followers of other men. The stranger came to town in a way, to save these people from themselves. It would not be easy because they rejected every other point of view. The real test, the true test would be to endure the pastor’s sermon. It was literally physically painful for the stranger who was a truth seeker to hear lies. The pastor had consistently avoided speaking one sincere word thus far to him. The man was corrupt and superstitious and typically gave his flock the wrong answers. Still, the stranger assumed that no [MISSING TEXT?]

“Never mind, please wait with me for our visitor.”

It took little time for the stranger’s deed of helping the homeless man to spread all over town. Someone trying to work their way to heaven was among the ultimate blasphemies of this proud group of true believers.

The stranger, of course would be dealt with in time. That was all there was to it. Services were a stone’s throw away now. The time for the truth to finally set him free was arriving. It wasn’t the same for the pastor and his deacon to approach him on a one to one basis. The devil knew how to take advantage of that. When an entire community of believers was up and ready on Sunday it was a different story. No devil could ever stop such great faith. The pastor went all out for his fire and brimstone preaching.

“This thing called psychiatry is wrong. It confuses people into embracing their own sins and selfishness.”

The stranger didn’t touch that one.

“This rock and roll music leads to dancing and fornication.”

“David celebrated the arrival of the Ark Of The Covenant by dancing.”

“So?”

“You said all dancing was evil.”

“The earth is six thousand years old, don’t let Darwin or Marx tell you otherwise,” said the pastor. “One day to the lord is a thousand years.”

“Out of context,” screamed Jones.

“That’s right,” said Harris.

“Perhaps a million years is as a day as well. A billion, a trillion, eternity is a day when you are the one who created the universe.”

“May I continue preaching in my own church?” asked Jones.

“Yes,” the stranger answered.

“The training of children involves, has to involve good spankings,” said Jones. “Spare the rod and spoil the child is under attack from the secular left who now run this once great Christian nation.

“You mustn’t take all the scriptures literally. They were never, ever meant to be read that way,” said the stranger.

“Oh, you’re a bible scholar now,” said Jones. The congregation laughed but it was not the laughter of joy. It was a nervous reaction to the strong challenges the stranger had against their spiritual leader.

“Sir, it does say spare the rod just like it condemns homosexuality.”

“The scripture also says that disobedient children should be stoned to death. Do you follow that as well?”

The long silence from the congregation was both profound and eerie.

The stranger now knew that what was going on was simply sinister. These people had taken the honorable faith of Christianity and destroyed it. In many ways they were worse than the evildoers who burned witches and hung unbelievers. At least those terrible men were simply the victims of living in a theocracy. What kind of insanity substituting for faith would ever want to bring about such a terrible, repressive form of government back? They lived in a free society but since they had to have everyone in the world think the same way they did and believe the same things they did, they would let freedom go straight to hell. This was in many ways the ultimate sin and the most profound lack of gratitude for all that a great country with the shed blood of its patriots, the great sacrifices stood for. The stranger began to weep uncontrollably.

“The temperance movement is important as is the banning of movies and rock and roll music.”

“The bible is full of wine drinkers, you must know this, and you attended and graduated from a seminary.”

“Stop with the nonsense, the men of the bible had long hair, David danced, the world is not a mere few thousand years old, the first Christians drank wine, the scriptures are not meant to be taken literally and there is a case to be made for universal redemption.”

Once again, silence from the entire congregation. He would not be made a fool of in front of God’s people, his congregation. It was wrong and it was truly humiliating. This wasn’t enough for the stranger; he made a strong case for the passive. The weak Christians, who refused to fight for their country and defend themselves according to a scripture, based church. Now they had someone to defend them. The radical, blasphemous hippie loving stranger jumped in to speak on their behalf.

“I think that we’re almost done here,” said Jones.

“What are you trying to hide?” the stranger asked.

“What do mean?” the bewildered pastor asked.

“You are carrying a gun. It’s under your jacket. This is a regular Sunday service. Why on earth would you need a gun?”

“I’m not the only one who does,” Jones answered.

The stranger could now clearly see that the entire congregation was packing heat. Just under the jackets or around belts, hand guns.

“This isn’t a church! This is a pastor worshiping cult!”

That final comment did it for Jones; he was out of patience with this dangerous man. He walked up slowly towards him. He could see the sheer disgust and anger in the stranger’s face. Jones hit the man over the head with his gun and knocked him unconscious.

“Help me do what needs to be done,” said Jones.

The congregation gathered around the stranger and picked him up. They carried him out of the church. There was a small wooded area next to the graveyard behind the church. When the stranger regained consciousness he was screaming.

“Oh my God!” the stranger screamed.

“This was your own doing,” said Jones.

“That’s right,” said Harris.

Melissa Jones was weeping uncontrollably. The pastor looked at her and she dried her tears quickly. The weakness of her character was a clear sign that men had to be in charge to maintain order.

“Why?” the stranger asked.

“It had to be done,” said Jones.

The stranger looked at his right arm. It was nailed into the tree that he was half hanging from. Harris came and put another spike in front of his left arm, he held a hammer in his hand. He screamed as the next spike was hammered mercilessly into him. The agony of hanging from the tree was unbearable for the stranger… He almost lost his left arm.

“His kingdom will come at night and it is you who are the thieves.”

Harris hammered another spike right into the stranger’s wrist. So his arm would not come off. He was now hanging from the tree, screaming in unbearable agony. One could hear him scream from blocks away but folks in town always kept Jones’s secrets.

“It’s hidden!”

“What?” I asked.

“The true meaning of those stories we write after we return home from traveling through time.”

I smiled.

“I read your tale, talking animals, fascism, communism and the new world order.”

“Yes.”

“Christ, you really were thinking a lot about animals.”

“Even more so, I have been thinking about mortality, especially since my mom and dad were murdered.”

“Mortality is a joke, a big, terrible, joke,” said Harold.

“Look at how they value human life on the average college campus, abortion, euthanasia, left-wing, anti-life agenda etc.”

“Son, I agree,” said Harold.

“Funny,” I said.

“Glad you appreciate good humor so much.”

“We are all mortal. Mortality is always the same… it leads to death.”

“Doesn’t it lead to anything else?”

“Andrew, I don’t know. We travel through time, not behind the great curtain. The one only revealed when one’s time is up.”

“Harold?”

“Yes, Andrew?”

“Aren’t you dead?”

“Yes, technically but…’

“I assume you are in no position to tell me what is beyond the grave.”

“No,” he said.

“Why?”

“Well, obviously I’m not dead now. I just used the travel bug and cheated time itself. You might have been wondering how I can walk around and be recognized by others, I mean people can see me.”

“That did catch my attention, yes…”

“It’s all a matter of will; you see when I combine the travel bug meat with you and will myself to be seen in this present form…”

“We’ve had some pretty raunchy vacations; others have more than seen you…”

“I do have the will of a dirty old man.”

“Why can’t others see us in the past?”

“It’s not just a matter of will, the more extreme a trip into the past or future, it becomes more like a vision than an actual time traveling experience. We become too detached from reality…”

“Agreed,” I said.

“Andrew, I know that you’ve experienced this is as well.”

“I have, Harold.”

“I would think that you did both with our mutual journeys as well as with some of the jaunts you took on your own.”

“Yes, I did.”

“There is one more factor in bringing me back from the dead and it’s not just blood relative stuff here.”

“What’s that?”

“The unnamed species itself has a certain power and we’ve learned that by merely being around it… one can will the time traveling experience. This of course, takes time, no pun intended and time is something we have plenty of.”

“Time after time after time, you mean.”

“You see me in my dreams, my nightmares I mean, so awful. I see you on your deathbed dying alone but I’m watching you on the right side. The Rapture woman is on the left watching you die and eating an apple.”

“Let’s hope to God that’s just a nightmare. I’m a dirty old man; you know how I want to die in bed.”

“You’re not funny,” I said, laughing.

“Then stop laughing.”

I really did enjoy every time cheating moment that my great grandfather and I got to spend together. I mean as much as I hated seeing that chilling psychopath who killed my parents, I loved seeing Harold! There was a lot of love and a little bit or resentment to how he brought me over to the dark side of sexual promiscuity and drunkenness even if just a little while. He meant it as the lesser of two evils due to the excessive amount of evil that I had witnessed.

“You know, speaking of mortality, you act the way that you do, because… you miss your wife.”

“If I can’t be a man who has his wife at the side of his deathbed instead of some Bible thumping psychopath, then I will pretend I’m young and spring break never ends.”

“Anything else you want to confess?” I asked him.

“Priest or not, you are a good soul and even if Christ was not who the church said he was, that doesn’t mean you should panic, be an atheist and assume life has no meaning.”

“I know.”

“Good, Andrew. Jews, Muslims and Buddhists live life full of meaning and still don’t believe in the divinity of Christ.”

“Okay, Harold, you’re right…”

“Still, you might find that he’s the divine Jesus and not the stupid organized religion version of Jesus.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One drinks wine, the other doesn’t…”

“Harold, please change the subject.”

“Fine, Andrew.”

“Among the things saved here are not just the unnamed species but also your journals.”

“What’s your point, son?”

“You’ve thought a lot about mortality?”

“Yes I have,” he answered. “I’ve though specifically my own to be honest.”

“What have you written about it?”

“I came back after one time travel trip and had this vision of two intellectuals…”

“What?” I asked.

“Would you like to read it?”

“Hell yes,” I said.

April’s Fools

A deeply serious southern institution once made the mistake of hiring two brothers to teach there. One was an English professor and the other taught history. Robert loved literature and Alfred loved to teach young minds about the Second World War and such. The problem wasn’t their excellent qualifications or even their practical jokes per se. It was that they were identical twins! Now the two close brothers had repeatedly pushed the taste and boundaries of their fine institution. They had no shame. When there were twins, they would repeatedly change classes and lectures as well as sleep with each other’s dates. There was no shame at all as far as how far they would push the boundaries of decent academic society. Even the most notorious womanizing faculty members were disgusted by the constant girl swapping of the two diabolical brothers. They had tenure; it was as simple as that! They could not be fired and they would never be fired. A small handful of their colleagues knew something else about the two infamous professors. They had virtually the same health history. That included a rare form of cancer that they were both suffering from. It was fatal and they didn’t have very long.

This was a grim time for the two brothers. It was almost more than they could bear. Their parents died when they were very young. Although they were both fortunate enough to make it to the age of seventy, the time had gone by…… so quickly. They had spoken of the unspeakable. If the time was right then suicide was certainly a verifiable option for the twins.