c. 2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(6-24)
I had been in a deep period of slumber after spending most of the evening on my porch with a 30-rack of Miller High Life. Something that was predictable and slightly boring in personal terms. Yet satisfying in the context of my life amid rows of tattered and neglected mobile homes. Upon turning numb and disinterested in the parade of neighbors who passed my driveway, I stumbled inside the trailer feeling tipsy. After finding my bed, I fell into a heap of covers and pillows. Then, began to snore loudly. Because of living alone, this careless act offended no one. Dreams of working in at various retail jobs filled my unconscious thoughts. I interacted with coworkers and fellow managers not seen in decades. Each encounter had me puzzled by the confused timeline of these imaginary adventures.
And then around midnight, inexplicably, I died.
Medically, my moment of truth arrived in the form of a complete cardiac arrest. There were no other household members present to assist me as I slid off the precipice. So, I flailed a bit while still lost in the realm of alcoholic obliteration. My final exit came without much drama. I stopped breathing, turned a pallid shade of blue, and stiffened when enough time had passed from rigor mortis.
It took two or three days for neighbors to realize that I hadn’t been out on the porch, with my chosen beverages. They broke the front door down, and recoiled in horror after discovering my cold, overweight figure stretched out on the bedroom floor. Shouts of rude language followed, and cellular calls to 911. I had been a park resident for 22 years, so my name was known all around the rural property. Radio chatter soon had a local EMT crew springing into action. Yet their haste was given for naught.
I was standing meekly at the golden seat of the great I Am himself, the exalted Throne of Grace, in eternity. Center of the universe and all creation.
“WHY ARE YOU BEFORE ME AT THIS HOUR? WHAT CALAMITY CAUSED YOU TO BE JUDGED WHEN I AM BUSY WITH SO MANY OTHER TRIBULATIONS ON THAT DREADFUL PIECE OF STONE CIRCLING THE SUN?”
There was an aroma of honey and spices on his breath that made me pause and ponder. He had the visual appearance of a senior sage, with long, gray locks and a white beard. His purple robes draped low, over his knees and onto the floor, which was sheathed in mosaic tiles. He held a scepter with the emblem of a cross at its tip. His eyes glowed like blazing stars in the sky. His voice resonated throughout the entire chamber in which we met.
Unfortunately, I had no explanation for having perished so suddenly. I was spiritually naked. And quite embarrassed.
“You are... God the Father?”
He tapped his silver pole on the floor, with irritation.
“YES, OF COURSE I AM! YOUR GOD, YOUR FATHER! I AM THE AUTHOR OF EVERYTHING EVER WRITTEN BY MANKIND! THE GREATEST ENGINEER, BUILDER OF MOUNTAINS AND SIRE OF NATURE! I HAVE CAUSED WINDS TO BLOW, AND GREAT SEAS TO SPAN THE GLOBE ON WHICH YOU LIVED! I RULE HERE AS THE KEEPER OF A FLAME THAT WILL NEVER BE EXTINGUISHED!”
I sighed softly, and adjusted my worn, athletic garments, which no longer seemed to fit properly. Being dead for a brief period had apparently caused me to lose some weight. Something that I might have celebrated when on the other side of the mortal veil.
“I don’t mean this as a complaint, but I expected something more theatrical when the Grim Reaper arrived. You know, a light at the end of a tunnel, someone beckoning from another room, a voice inside of my head, those things often described by people who have crossed over and returned, by some miracle happening...”
God shook his fist and sputtered saliva in the air.
“IS IT A MIRACLE YOU DESIRE, RODNEY? PROOF OF MY OMNIPOTENCE, BECAUSE WHAT YOU BEHOLD HERE AND NOW IS NOT ENOUGH?”
The walls around us were shaking. I had begun to tremble.
“No, no! As I said, don’t take my words as a complaint of any kind. I get it, death is final and just. You wrote the rulebook, I learned plenty about that in Sunday School. It’s just that... I imagined there would be flashes of lighting, peals of thunder, that sort of production. I must confess that this reminds me of when my earthly pater passed away. He was lucid and speaking to us in one moment, though obviously in serious discomfort. And then, in the next, he was gone. Like the snap of fingers, or a banging of a gavel in judgement. Done. Finis. Over and out...”
The exalted, cosmic potentate folded his arms and huffed with disdain.
“ISN’T THAT ENOUGH, BOY? THE GREAT STILLNESS COMES WHEN LIFE ITSELF IS FINISHED! WITH A WORD, I SPOKE ALL CREATION INTO BEING! AND WITH A WORD, I CAUSE IT TO END! SO BE IT! I AM THE LAW! THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA!”
My feet were bare, and chilly. I rubbed my arms in the hope of generating some heat.
“Right, right, no protest here. But I had no warning shot, nothing out-of-the-ordinary to make me concerned about having reached the end of this railroad adventure. I was just snoozing and sniffling one minute, and then here in front of your throne. There were no demons on the loose, or health issues cited by my physician. Just a cold brew in my hand, and neighbors rolling up and down my street in their ratty pickup trucks. Another damned, boring, typical day living on the bottom rung of our social ladder...”
For the first time, God actually cracked a smile. He nodded and hummed quietly.
“You’re a wordsmith, correct? I mean, you were in the flesh?”
I turned defensively pale.
“Yes... I am what you intended. A continuation of my family’s creative bloodline. K.C. Ice, M.C. Ice, R.D. Ice...”
The creator of all slapped his legs and brightened visibly.
“THAT’S IT, I REMEMBER NOW. YOU ARE THE ONE WHO MADE MISTAKES, AND STRAYED OFF COURSE. YOU DISAPPOINTED THEM WITH POOR JUDGMENT AND BAD HABITS. YOU DISHONORED THEIR LEGACY! YOU WERE REBUKED AS A SELFISH SINNER! BUT FINALLY, THERE WAS A CHANGE. YOU REPENTED IN SOME FORM, IN YOUR ART AT LEAST. I HEARD YOUR PRAYERS, EVEN THOUGH YOU HAD FALLEN INTO THE DANK MUD OF WORLDLY OBSESSIONS!”
My eyes were closed. I felt clammy and weak.
“See... I expected something more like what you just said at the end. Not a simple collapse into the grave. I needed more of a performance. A buildup to the climax. That’s more like it!”
The Holy Father pointed his royal scepter at my face. His expression made me wilt like a flower in a summer drought. A pitch of anguish reverberated as he declared my sentence.
“YOU ARE NOT YET APPOINTED TO DIE! GO BACK TO YOUR BOXCAR COMMUNITY, RODNEY ICE! GO BACK TO YOUR CRUMBLING ASPHALT AND DRUNKEN FRIENDS AND DISHEARTENED UNBELIEVERS! TEACH THEM OF WHAT LIES PAST THE FRINGE! TELL THEM THE TRUTH OF MY GLORY AND POWER! TELL THEM WHAT AWAITS BEYOND THE GRAVE!”
I awakened on my bench, around sunrise. Birds were already chirping. I could hear a rooster crowing on the hillside, south of our township square. I patted myself eagerly, just to feel the sensation of touch. To be sure of my own existence. Somehow, I was still alive, very much alive. The trip I had taken had me feeling intensely grateful. But also, parched and thirsty.
Now, I needed another beer!
No comments:
Post a Comment