I was sleeping, having one of my usual, unusual vivid dreams. In this dream I was driving a Jaquar XK8 Super. That’s a Jag XK8 L (long wheelbase) with a super charged 4.2 liter V8 in it. Since 2004, they have had an all aluminum body. This makes this a big, yet very nimble, very fast car. I have been trying to convince myself that it is a “sensible” car to buy. Four doors, bug trunk, about 27mpg on the highway. Yeah, this is practical….
I was coming out of a corner, and stomped the gas pedal and heard the roar of the engine, and whine of the supercharger kick in. The car made a “whomp” sound and I heard his voice. I looked to my right and HE said, “Ted. Wake up. It’s time to talk.”
I opened my eyes and squinted trough the light coming in from the hotel window. Where was I? Oh yeah, Evian, France. There HE was, sitting out on the balcony, at the small café table, looking out over Lake Geneva.
“Decide to spend some time in the South of France, Jesus?” I asked. Jesus turned and smiled. “This is the most beautiful place I have ever been to Lord. My complements to you or your dad.”
“Yes, Ted this is a beautiful place. I guess it helps explain why the French are so snobbish, huh?” Jesus then laughed outloud.
‘What’s up?” I asked. “You are not here to counsel me on my tirade with the English idiot last night?”
“No, he had it coming, but I am glad you didn’t cave his skull in. Killing people, even ones who you think ‘need killin,’ isn’t the path.” Said the Lord. “I am back to talk about your dream, and not whether or not you should by the Jaguar, or a Mini either. I let ‘free will’ ride on that one.”
“Great.” I was unenthusiastic about the conversation. I sat up in the bed.
“I will cut right too it. That’s the way you are going to die, Ted.” Sayeth the Lord.
“I kinda figured that, hoping against hope and all of that.”
I got out of the bed, put on the white terry cloth Evain Royal Hotel bathrobe, and joined Jesus out on the balcony.
Looking down at my bare feet, “Why?” I asked.
“Everybody has to die somehow, Ted. At least you won’t be rotting in your own feces in some government-run retirement farm. A fate that awaits most of your contemporaries.” Jesus explained.
“So this is like a mercy killing?! Because I am not too keen on being shot in the back of the head, Jesus.”
Jesus stared straight through me, and said, “You can’t change that part, Ted. The question is what are you going to be doing between NOW and then? What will your crime be to lead to that fate?”
“Unpaid parking tickets? They way the country is going, I could be labeled a terrorist for that. Then it is off to the military tribunal at Gitmo!”
‘That is exactly my point,” said He.
“Your point is I will be killed for minor traffic violations?” Thanks for waking me up to tell me that." I was getting pissed.
“Have some coffee and think again, smart ass.” The Lord was not laughing.
I rubbed my forehead, and pondered this puzzle, sipping my coffee. Then I realized that I didn’t have any coffee in my room last night. “Did you order room service?” I asked the Lord.
“Ha!" Jesus laughed and shook his head. “You’re funny, Ted. But you can be a little thick now and then. Maybe it's the jet lag. Don’t you remember my water into wine routine, McFly?" The Lord knocked on my forehead. "I made coffee this morning instead.”
“Not much of a trick there, Lord. You won’t be getting many converts with that one. Hey everyone, Jesus made coffee!” Now I was laughing, maybe too much.
“Ted…..” the Lord was cautioning me, and wanted me to get back on topic.
“Okay,” I said. “I die with a bullet to the back of my skull. What are my choices and when will it happen?”
“What do you think your choices are, Ted?” asked HE.
“Oh, come on Jesus. This is like psycho therapy for crying-in-the-sink! What are you going to ask me next? ‘If I was a tree, what kind of tree would I be, and would I have nuts?” I was not liking the “This Is The End of You Life” game show that we were playing.
I sat quietly. This was like therapy. The silence grew and grew. Jesus wasn’t going to say anything. So, I had to.
“The way I see it, there are a number of ways. 1) I could be the victim of a violent crime. That’s a little to simple, and I don’t think we would be sitting here chatting about it. 2) I could get a slug from flirting with some guy’s wife or girlfriend. I am charming as hell. So, that one is a strong possibility. 3) Family argument. My family, save my in laws, aren’t packing for the most part. That one is unlikely. 4) Political crimes. I am always shooting my mouth off about something. And they like the whole “execution style” way of killing off their enemies. That is second only to being “suicided. Did you read about the guy the found in river wrapped in duct taped, sliced up and killed? They called that one suicide! Hey, I guess they could suicide me that way too. ‘He shot himself in the back of the head.’ Man, that would be rich.”
“Ted, those are all possibilities; all equally valid. You left out hunting accident, and writing about our conversations, to name two more obvious ones. Your actions between now and then will determine it. You know what it should be, Ted”
I sighed. “Hey Jesus, before I forget. Can you do something about my Tinitus? You know, that constant ringing in the ears that I have had since December.
“Oh that? When that stops, you will know that I have sent the angel of death for you. Let’s say within eighteen to twenty-four hours.” Jesus winked at me. “It will be time to come home.” The Lord stood up and smoothed his robe.
“So, I have to wait until the last day of my life for this buzzing in my head to stop? Don’t I even get a snooze button? That really sucks, man.” I was even less happy.
“Hey, it’s something.” Then Jesus bent down, gave me a kiss on my forehead. “Be well, my friend.” The HE was gone.
I got up, showered, and got dressed. Then I headed out to try to find a copy of Ron Paul’s The Revolution. Maybe there was one somewhere in the village of Evain, France. Finding an English language book, at a bookstore in the South of France was going to be a miracle itself. An English version of that book would be like changing water into coffee, sans the beans. But, I had the feeling there was one waiting for me.
copyright 2008 Ted Sky All rights reserved.
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