Tagged: Gay Marriage
Ed did not blink… It could have been a stroke. Signs and symptoms accumulated with age. Ed was quickly approaching seventy. He was transfixed by the TV. The news was weaponized, exploding off the screen. Anthony sat on the coach with Ed playing a game on his laptop. Earlier in the day they argued… typical married couple complaints. Both men were feeling lonely and helpless. The pandemic made everything worse. Masks and social-distancing took a psychological toll. At least they were together; but instead of comforting one another they argued. Nothing was normal anymore. Small tasks became Herculean challenges. Talking turned into shouting. The new puppy was a comfort. She was oblivious to the concerns that obsessed her human owners.
The Blue Orca sat behind a water-logged desk and took notes. Ed continued to speak, “I’m committed to finding answers. Anthony doesn’t care.”
“You sound like a principal in a school,” the Orca responded in a burst of bubbles, “you sound like a martyr, oh pity me.” Of course the conversation occurred in Ed’s head. He had a vivid imagination.
The blasting news fluctuated between the profane and absurd, “the Blue Oyster Cult is taking a bite out of the deep state. Evidence was presented before congress that exonerates the president from any wrong doing. He is the people’s choice and therefore he cannot be held responsible. He did not incite people to riot against CDC precautions, he merely expressed approval. In other news… there was a rally for gun-rights this morning in Richmond, Virginia. Apparently too many guns killed too many people during the event. Few survived.”
Ed couldn’t decipher real news from fake. It could have been a Virtual Reality Intruder or a hallucination. Nothing was normal.
Elijah Templar had a condition. He didn’t know where he was – he didn’t know the date or century. He wasn’t certain Elijah was his real name. He thought he was living in the future inside a Hot Box (a container without air). He knew about the virus… he thought his condition was a side effect. He was certain of one thing: he had a mission. Elijah Templar wanted to reclaim the world before the collapse. He was trying to reverse time. He often stared into empty window frames searching for a pass into another time or dimension. His only companion inside the box was an intelligent dog. The dog was genetically engineered and enhanced. Elijah came from a long line of amateur scientists and inventors. They were Templars because they were on a quest just like the Templars of the old world.
Elijah named his dog Pepe Rolando in honor of his best friend. He was martyred by members of the Divine Life Church. The church believed God sent the virus. The mission of the church was to help spread the virus. Pepe was dosed and died ten days later. Members of the church reveled in social intimacy and the elimination of all masks. They also believed bleach was the new sacrament replacing wine. They revered the Holy-One who proscribed the new sanctions. Some church members referred to passages in the bible that could not be contested proving the deceased president was the new messiah, martyred before his time. A large mural inside the cinder block church depicted The Last Dinner: Donald Trump is at the center, seated at a long table, joined by twelve of his closest wives and children. Third wife, Melania, shines as the divine prostitute. Ivanka rises up to offer the holy cup of bleach to the revered Trump. Young Baron lurks in the shadows. He is revealed as Trump’s Judas. Jared stands tall as the weaponized soldier who defends The Holy One along with Don Jr. and Eric. They represent the Army of God. “The” Trump sits on his throne, a golden toilet. His wealth is enormous as symbolized by his huge girth. The table bows under the weight of food: fries and burgers abound. The giant Trump holds a computer to relay wrathful messages and parables to non-believers and sinners.
The dog, Pepe Rolando, was a genetic make-over, a designer dog. Science was put on a fast track due to the virus. From the online Archives, Elijah learned scientific research was corrupted by the president’s beliefs and conspiracy theories. Flawed thinking was behind the policies advocated by the president’s administration (Elijah wasn’t certain about the time-line… when did the changes occur in the present or the past). Trump worried about the economy (he stood to loose lots of money) so he freed-up business and invested in biotech firms.
Safety and ethical considerations no longer mattered. It was important to make the recession profitable (at least for some people). Mad science was the key… conspiracy theories and conjectures had to be proven as viable. A vaccine had to be discovered, but more important were the new products that could be developed and sold to an unwary public. Snake-oil and magic cures were once again considered proven and effective. Eugenics was brought back from a dark, Nazis laboratory and hailed as the science of the future. Without ethical standards science and industry could exceed expectations. Some progress was actually made. Clones and mutants were immune to the virus. There was no longer a need to find and manufacture a vaccine. Many mistakes also became apparent with catastrophic results. Many mutant babies carried Satan’s Spark (a mutation developed by Doctor Lydia Thornwall in her attempt to cure the ravages of old age. Unfortunately her discovery led to violent behavior, murder and mayhem). Other designer babies were extremely narcissistic without any ability to empathize (a condition later described as Trump Syndrome). Altered animals often exhibited human characteristics, mostly vicious uninhibited behaviors). There were also a few mutant successes: intelligent animals and creative savants. Pepe was such a success: a dog with self-consciousness who could understand human behavior. Unfortunately, Pepe could not communicate his ideas and important insights, but he quickly learned tricks much to Elijah’s delight.
Pepe Rolando was curious. He was only six months old but mature for his age. He instinctively knew something was wrong with the world. Pepe kept a record of his observations. He never learned how to use his paw to write and he was physically unable to speak so he stored his record in his mind. “I want to know,” Pepe thought in a surge of excitement. He bounced around the room using his tongue to explore the rug and furniture. He smelled fear. Something was rotten.
“What is it? What is it?” Pepe ruminated, “ Elijah takes me for a ride on his bicycle. I love the wind. It whistles. I see people, but they don’t look right. Everyone is covered. Funny suits hide everything. They wear masks. Masks… that’s it. No faces. No one smells. Suits cover everything. Even Elijah is hidden. I can’t lick him. No kisses. I can’t smell him. No one plays. No one touches. Something bad… very bad.”
Ed was confused… perhaps it was a nervous breakdown. He thought, “I’m hysterical… that’s what they told women in the old days. If a woman spoke up for herself or complained about anything she was labeled hysterical.” Ed thought his therapist was a talking whale. The Blue Oyster Cult gave him nightmares… he was paranoid about cults and didn’t know if the rumors were real or fake. Anthony did not understand Ed. He had his own problems. The virus took a toll on everyone. Of course, the president claimed the US was open for business and everything was back to normal. Death had a heyday. People stopped abiding by CDC rules to stop the spread of infection. Everyone wanted to believe the president so they followed his example and thousands became ill, many died. Anthony felt cooped up, imprisoned. When he went to sleep he had nightmares.
Elijah Templar had access to his great grandfather’s laboratory in the basement of a bombed-out building. Mordecai Templar claimed to be a genius. He dropped out of college to pursue his passion: Time Displacement Mechanics. He believed quantum phenomenon could be controlled by a biological mechanism that existed in certain neurons within the brain. He believed the brain produced quantum energy, the key to time-displacement and human consciousness. Mordecai invented a Particle-Booster to enhance the energy waves emanating from the brain. To his dismay nothing could be proved. He was never granted access to the lofty circles of established science. He died during the pandemic and economic collapse. The consequences of Mordecai’s experiments were never observed… however, atomic-particles were scrambled. Elijah and Mordecai became entangled within a bubble of time.
Elijah rode his bike through the mud. He rode across crumbling pavements where streets still remained. Pepe Rolando sat in the basket on the handlebar. Elijah wore a protective suit with a breathing tank. Pepe was engineered to withstand the new hazards in the atmosphere. They were searching for food. Some stores still remained but most were abandoned. Corporations still pumped ads into people’s heads promoting products that no longer existed. The hounds of desire continued to perpetuate the illusion of the fast moving man and the alluring woman. A patina of reality had to be maintained. Wealthy family members became hoarders… living in walled compounds overlooking the slums of the city. Elijah wanted to turn back time. He was obsessed with notes he discovered in Mordecai’s laboratory: mathematical formulas that proved time could be controlled and altered. Some notes referenced a machine that could change reality. If such a machine existed he had to find it. Elijah forgot about getting food. Pepe whimpered to snap the man out of his reverie. On a street corner they saw a specter dressed in black with no mask. He was playing a violin. A mournful dirge seemed to float in the air. A few birds fell from the sky to die on the pavement. Elijah recognized the specter. He was seen everywhere in the city playing his violin. Sometimes he carried a sign. Florescent letters spelled the words, welcome to The Divine Life.
The church was lit in acid-white from flickering florescent tubes. Fifteen supplicants sat on metal, folding chairs in front of an old lectern. The parishioners looked older than their years. Some faces were marred with infections and flaking skin. The five women wore dresses made from burlap sacks. The men wore black. They greeted one another with hugs. No one wore a mask or protective gear. They held one another and sang praises to the lord. Reverend Pence approached the lectern. He was dressed in a black, silk-caftan emblazoned with the symbol of the virus. He was descended from the first Pence who remained loyal to the end. After a short introduction Reverend Pence spoke in riddles from the Book of Trump, “Congregation, We know these are His exact words: Bredren… yeld not to temtation. Hold one other in xilltasion. Releese dur Breadth. Beef Frey.” The faithful murmured approval. “Doo as yer in-tructed by der holly One, Me. I sharred Gud’s Gift, der Corona. Our one tru midsion is sprad de fate. De Corona iss Salve-ation. Der Corona iss Rupture.”
The Reverend interjected, “The Holy One died many years ago so that man could be free. He died so that we could prosper as he prospered. He died so that we could rapture and join him in Divine Life. Go forth… breathe free… give the gift of Corona.”
The supplicants sang praises, “Oh Holy One thy light is ever streaming. Thy gift is Holy Communion. Corona is Salvation.”
The specter that played the violin stood behind a counter near the door. He handed a vial to each parishioner. They would leave the church in a state of ecstasy and go into the world to spread the Corona. Even the sickest congregants felt ecstatic to be part of the holy mission.
At this juncture a strange character enters from stage left. “My name is Orlow Fabricatum. I am the ubiquitous fly on the wall. As a journalist it is my duty to make a Reality Correction. These days most news is fake. This is especially true about the story you are presently reading. The characters are fabricated and bare no resemblance to anyone living or dead. Further more, there is no Time Displacement Mechanism. The future is unknown. There is no Divine Life Cult. All I can say for certain is that the Corona Virus does exist. No one knows the outcome. I will continue to be ever vigilant and make necessary corrections.”
Anthony was haunted by dreams and nightmares. The beginning of every dream was the same… Anthony was walking with Ed through an iridescent fog. They were going across the border. The fog congealed into metal machinery, mechanical border-guards. The guards stopped Ed, but Anthony walked past them as if he was invisible. He was alone. He found himself in a village that seemed to float on a purple haze. The odd buildings appeared frozen in twilight. There was no night and no day. He heard faint sounds, violin music from far away like the wailing of a tortured animal. There was a magician in the dream who changed into different people like putting on a new costume, “slight of hand,” he murmured. Anthony felt queasy. The magician changed into Ruth Slaybock, Ed’s mother. She disappeared years ago. No one knew what happened. Ruth took Anthony’s hand and whispered, “I know… It’s all right.” Then, she changed. Her smile faded. She no longer had a mouth. Her skin turned gray.
Anthony woke in a cold sweat. Ed put his arm around him, “it’s OK, honey… I also had a dream,” he whispered, “a good dream. I think everything is about to change for the better.”
Elijah Templar was an amateur inventor. With the help of his great grandfather’s notes Elijah reached across the bulwark of time to gently connect. Chaos and order dissolved. Time stopped… released from the paradigm of past, present, and future. One reality replaced another.
When he was a very old man he had flashbacks of another life. He wasn’t sure if he saw his own life or a stranger’s life. Old age played tricks on a person, unexpected travesties and setbacks. Often he was afraid to get out of bed, afraid of a tumble and a broken leg. He was very old due to advancements in bio-genetics; but nothing could improve the quality of life for someone over one-hundred-ten. Of course there were distractions from the everyday pain of extreme age. Virtual Reality gave Eddie the option of living in a different world and becoming a different person like an actor in a play. It felt real. For a few hours he could be someone else. He could relive his own memories as well and change them so they were happier than the reality of the past. His body deteriorated and starved as his mind traversed the worlds of VR.
Eddie sat in an auditorium at the University of Arizona. He was attending a lecture by the noted investigator, Adamine Krator. It was a fascinating presentation; but Eddie felt agitated and insecure. He wasn’t certain why he was so troubled. He had the feeling he belonged somewhere else. He felt he was in several places at the same time. Was he really in Arizona; or was he in Red City. He knew nothing about Red City other than the uncanny feeling he had about the name. He couldn’t explain where it was located, on what continent or planet; yet Eddie felt he lived there. He wondered if he was really in Arizona listening to a lecture.
Adamine Krator was gesticulating as if he had Tourette’s; then he spoke, “We are the most controlled people, the most controlled civilization that has ever existed on this planet. There is no freedom.” The speech struck a nerve. Eddie felt compelled to tap his feet: three times with the right foot and four times with the left. Over and over he tapped. It was the only way he could avoid the manic feelings that were threatening to overwhelm his sanity. He was obsessive-compulsive, but he was reluctant to see a therapist. He was afraid to be labeled mentally ill. So he tapped and did other odd ceremonies meant to stave off catastrophe.
He was at the bar with Anthony. They had just moved to Tucson from Palm Springs. The move was a challenge both physically and emotionally. They left everything, friends and family, to start a new life together in a new city. Eddie missed his mom. Anthony missed his older sister. Eddie thought, “This is a memory… I’m not really here.” He wished it was real, but he knew he had a breathing tube up his nose and he was lying in a pool of his own waste. Virtual Reality was only an illusion.
The People’s Leader was on TV again. He shouted slurs and innuendos. The crowd ate it up. Threats fell from his lips like cherry bombs. The crowd responded with cheers. Some people brandished axes. Some had hacksaws. The bright lights in the stadium were like streaming acid. Human faces appeared to melt revealing beasts beneath the skin. They were enraged by the Leader’s words. Another violent, mass slaughter was unfolding before the eyes of a stunned nation.
Eddie heard a distant shout, “Roasted vegetables.” It broke through his reverie. Anthony was making dinner. Eddie loved Anthony. The young man was often over dramatic. He knew all the songs from every Broadway Musical. He sang and danced like a movie star. He invented his own characters. “You like this,” He’d say mimicking a Puerto-Rican actor or model, “You want some of this? No! You can look but no touching!”
Something snaked through the defenses guarding Anthony’s brain. A virus was brewing. Casualties mounted higher everyday. An old fashioned radio sent an emergency signal: imminent danger… leaky gut… limited income… no escape…
For no obvious reason Anthony exploded, yelling at the TV. Something in the news upset him. The outbursts happened a lot. He hated driving in the city, in traffic. He cursed other drivers as if they could hear his words. Anthony had a temper like a hurricane, but the fury quickly subsided. He was usually the gentlest man Eddie ever met. He worked as a health-care Aide for an older woman named Hannah. She became a good friend. He also cared for an older man who lived in the same facility as Hannah. The man was frail and sometimes delusional… more work for Anthony. He worked hard and it resulted in an emotional toll. Too many people were dying at the assisted living facility. No one had an explanation for the numbers of deaths.
Eddie wondered how Anthony could love him. Eddie was much older; but Anthony was devoted. He made Eddie laugh. Anthony was a cure… He broke through Eddie’s asceticism and extreme shyness.
Eddie was obsessed with the news. So much was happening in the nation and the world. It was hard to keep up, hard to understand. It wasn’t only Eddie… Most people were dealing with violent emotions. Calm was replaced with agitation. Identity politics skewered the nation. Anthony was particularly upset and on edge. He had to avoid TV due to an overbearing presence of propaganda. As a way to ease the unrest the couple spent more time in discrete bars getting mildly drunk. It wasn’t easy finding a quiet place.
The only relief was the music playing in Eddie’s mind. He’d seen too much in his years on Earth. Music was his only salve. Nuevo Tango was the music he loved best. Eddie listened to the Contradanza beats while wandering the pathways that ran through his brain. Timpany-percussion became more insistent, overriding the Latin harmonies like marching feet. The image of the New Leader overpowered the dream. Spies were everywhere. Eddie could no longer distinguish reality. Anthony appeared in the dream. He was resplendent in his sequin suit. He stood by to protect Eddie, but something was not working as planned. Nothing worked anymore. The pathways were closing down. Eddie was left to fend for himself. He woke in a dark, cold room.
He/Eddie realized there were alternatives. Nothing was as bad as imagined. Conversely, nothing was ever as good. Perfection did not exist. The poetry reading at the Coffee-Gallery was another distraction, another attempt to make sense of the incomprehensible. The poets were solemn and stolid like indefatigable vampires sipping at the edges of reality, seeking unsavory bites and exquisite sensations. Something was taking place beneath the masks and facades of the performers. Each poet rambled on about some mundane subject sidestepping the real issues that people were forced to confront. It made little sense. Eddie tried to decipher the true meanings, but failed. There was only one poet who seemed to say something he could understand. He looked young. He appeared thin, almost emaciated. He seemed to shiver while standing in front of the group getting ready to make a speech or read a poem. He said his name was Robert Anton. He read a screed about strange machines and alien worlds; at least that’s what Eddie heard… it was off kilter and obscure, but it seemed relevant. Anthony disagreed: he said the poem was only about bad relationships. After the reading the two men hurried home, wary of passersby.
Eddie heard voices and saw visions. Anthony held him. He was a comfort. They were legally married. After all it was a new day; but the day was quickly passing. Liberal policies were being revoked. Soon couples would be evaluated: some would be allowed to continue while others would be torn apart as blasphemous. The rating system had the blessing of the Church. The new government was beholden to the church. Evangelicals supported the government with votes and funds.
Eddie sat alone in the dark room. Sometimes he thought he lived in one of the new facilities set up to eliminate old people. Everything had changed. He thought about Anthony. He couldn’t remember the outcome. He wondered if it was real… what happened? They had a house together, and a dog… they argued about money like every other couple. There was a recession. It was a long time ago. Now everything was silent. Eddie assumed he was completely deaf due to the total silence; then he heard a sound. He listened to the soft thrumming in the walls. It was the first sound he heard in many years. It was deafening compared to the long season of quiet. Somewhere there was a machine that made the sound. Eddie began to hope. Perhaps this was not the end.
Crossing the Line
“Another day… Another mass shooting…” Flashed across every digital-screen. It was the current headline from News on Fire. Eddy Slaybock was addicted to the news. There was no avoiding the news after The Man in the High Tower declared a new war (once again). Everyone was addicted. Watching the news was healthier than taking drugs. The news was scripted like a daily soap opera. Artificial Intelligence (AI) was the fiction-writer, creator of Breaking News. It was wildly entertaining. Eddie was on a crusade. He suspected something significant was happening, hidden from the public. Recently he felt Reality beginning to unravel.
Eddy’s disquiet began shortly after he bought a small painting he found at an estate sale. He went to the sale with Anthony, his life partner. Anthony loved to shop and Eddy enjoyed indulging in his partner’s whims.
“You don’t need that,” Anthony complained. “It looks like a stupid scribble.”
“Hey, dear,” Eddy replied, “It’s only three bucks.”
“Oh, that’s all? OK!”
It was an unusual purchase. Anthony was right. It looked like a scribbled line… But it spoke to Eddy. The line drew Eddy into the frame of the painting. Images seemed to emerge.
The couple lived in a condo close to the apartment where Eddy’s mom resided. Ruth Slaybock was ninety-four. She was fairly healthy for her age and fiercely independent. She did not want to live with her son and his partner. She knew the truth although Eddy never came out to her. She was tolerant, but not happy because she always wanted grandchildren from her only son. It was an odd twist of fate when the health-care agency sent Anthony to be her attendant and nurse. Eddy also assisted as an obedient son. He resented it. He always felt abused as a child; but he was never certain if the memories were real or fake. His memory never included his father – the man was always absent.
Everyday Ruth sorted through her memories trying to understand. Ruth was always self-reliant. She owned and managed an old-fashioned haberdashery for twenty years. The shop was part of an amusement complex called “America Great Again.” She was the breadwinner in the family. Once she turned eighty-two, she gave up the business. She saw the writing on the wall: the slow decline in physical and mental health… A winnowing of the spirit. She retired. At first she tried to adjust. She went to the local senior center and made a few friends. She played Bridge. It was never enough… It wasn’t like being a successful business owner with a strong voice in the community. Ruth earned enough income to provide her son with a college education. Thanks to her, Eddy had a decent job as a computer technician. He never seemed grateful. He always wanted something else, something she could never understand.
Now, everyday was the same for Ruth: TV, Solitaire, and Virtual Reality… “Boring, boring, boring,” she thought. Ruth often welcomed the pain that comes with an aging body. It relieved the boredom: Arthritis, Sciatica, and shortness of breath. Often her blood pressure was too low and she felt feint. Her short-term memory seemed shorter and more infuriating. She was pretty certain she wasn’t dealing with Dementia, not yet; but so much of what she used to know alluded her: names, recipes, addresses. She lost things – it never happened before. She was no longer allowed to drive (she couldn’t afford a self-driving car). Her eyesight was deteriorating and surgery was too dangerous. She wanted to scream, but realized it wouldn’t help. Nothing helped any more. Anthony was a dear – he tried so hard to please. Eddy came and went, but his heart was not in it. Ruth could see the truth.
She spent most of her time in VR watching News on Fire… One crazy incident after another: a rollicking roller-coaster of tragedy to make people forget their own insufferable lives. “All lies,” Ruth whispered, “paid for by incessant ads for health-aids that don’t help and fast-foods that make you sick!”
Eddy stared at the painting he recently purchased trying to find some meaning. It looked like a scrawl, a line painted in black that came from nowhere and continued to infinity. It seemed to resonate like a nuclear generator about to explode. He saw dark clouds and fire-storms breaking across the city… Natural forces erupted in pandemonium.
“Honey,” Anthony called from far away. “I’m making pasta for dinner.”
The images from the painting dissolved. Eddy thought, “It was just a line, after all.”
Eddy wanted to know the provenance of the painting. He could make out part of a signature at the bottom. The name looked like Mortimer. He’d heard of a painter named Mortimer Field who mysteriously disappeared. “Could this be the same artist?” He wondered. He learned the last person who owned the painting also disappeared. He was declared dead after ten years; then there was an estate sale where Eddy found the painting.
The painting of a line from nowhere was fascinating – it reminded Eddy of a loose thread from an antique tapestry. Once, Eddy saw a different world while staring at the painting. It was like a postcard from another dimension. He saw lights, colors that dissolved, melting together like wax to become one color that looked like twilight. From far away he heard music, an old refrain, “I’ll take you there…” Whenever Eddy followed the line he heard music. Once he heard a soft voice. He could only make out one word, “No.”
After dinner Anthony was upset. He didn’t like the way Eddy treated his mother. “I’m more of a son than you,” He shouted, “she doesn’t even know we’re married. Are you embarrassed?” He accused. Eddy was tongue-tied. It was partly true.
“I didn’t want to confuse her. She’s ninety-four,” he countered. It was a lie. In truth Eddy just wanted to keep his life separate from his mother. He wanted something of his own that he didn’t have to share; but he didn’t tell Anthony. The argument got worse. Anthony resented Eddy’s obsession with the painting. He was feeling abandoned and thought the painting was simply crazy. That night they slept in separate rooms. Eddy was trying to convince himself everything was all right and the argument would blow over. He told himself he loved Anthony, but he was no longer certain it was true.
One event often triggers another unrelated event. Quantum Mechanics describes an Entanglement where particles smaller than atoms influence one another even though they are not connected.
Eddy was working on his computer at home when the Internet was suddenly interrupted. It was an impossible event that only occurred in the distant, primitive past. The primary wireless connection failed. All services stopped. All information short-circuited. No TV. No VR. Nothing. People were cast into the void of non-existence. Everything ceased. Ruth thought she was having a stroke. She was paralyzed. Even if she could move, she could not call for help because all services were connected to the Internet. Eddy was unable to breathe for several minutes and almost expired. Anthony did slightly better because he practiced survival skills in the only National Park that still existed. He knew how to move efficiently without virtual enhancements. The black-out covered all the remaining States in the Union. It lasted exactly three minutes and fifteen seconds. Those minutes almost destroyed the world. Luckily the glitch was corrected by AI-Minders. Some people died in the lapse, but most survived. An Emergency was declared and AI proceeded with the Amnesia Protocols. Survival depended on memory erasure. No one was allowed to remember the event that triggered the emergency.
At first Ruth didn’t want to go. Mr. D’Angelo was obviously a con man. She surmised there were already too many con-men running things in the world; but Eddie and Anthony were insistent. “A night out will be good for you,” they asserted. They were more curious than anything. No one knew very much about D’Angelo. Rumors persisted. Supposedly he was a faith healer who raised the dead.
The amazing Mr. D’Angelo presents Miracles, Healings, and Revelations! One night only. The Veil will be lifted and you will SEE. Be among the chosen few. Refreshments will be served.
Not everyone was given an invitation and that made the event especially intriguing to Eddy and Anthony. Ruth reluctantly agreed to go. She hadn’t been out of the house for ages. She thought stepping out would be an interesting change.
There were only twenty people in the audience. The theater was virtually enhanced to appear like a Gothic Cathedral. Organ music swelled and synthetic angels glided just below the vaulted ceiling. Neo-Pop Hymns were sung by an invisible choir. Ginger-ale and crackers were served from floating drones. Ruth, Eddy and Anthony sat together on a luxury pew near the front of the auditorium. Ruth was beginning to feel excited. This was something different from News on Fire. This was interesting.
The stage lights dimmed. A skinny, bedraggled man stepped out of the shadows and onto the stage. He looked like a homeless derelict. Murmurs rumbled through the audience, “could this be D’Angelo?”
Ruth smiled… the man on the stage was certainly a con man just as she suspected. People were offended and got up from their pews to leave the theater. Suddenly the auditorium was filled with blazing light. Everyone was momentarily stunned like birds caught in the draft of a giant wind-turbine.
The homeless man laughed, loud and boisterous. He seemed to grow taller in the light. His clothes no longer looked like rags – they were faded, but still stylish, raiments from a bygone era. He jumped from the stage onto the floor among the stunned audience members who were still standing. He called for calm, “please take your seats. Relax.” His voice resonated with warmth and sincerity. No one wanted to leave. Ruth was confused by the changes, but her suspicions were allayed. Eddy and Anthony were eager to see what would happen next.
Mr. D’Angelo spoke, “folks, welcome. I’m not here to judge or proselytize. I’m here to help. People are suffering silently. Everyone here feels pain (whether it is physical pain like Sciatica or mental pain like Depression; people are in pain). I can tell you that drugs don’t help. TV and Virtual Reality are distractions, but the pain lingers. There is only one cure for the pain. I have that cure and I’m willing to give it to you free of charge. I have to tell you something we all know but refuse to recognize. It is a simple truth: life is not easy. Expectations make it hard. Everyday we are sold images and lies. We are told to buy homes, cars, and the newest gadgets. But, those things cannot stop the pain of life. That is the simple truth and that is Also the simple solution. If you want to stop pain you have to give it away… give it up.
“I can take you to a place… a place without pain and suffering. I’ll take you there, but only if you are ready to go. We are all children and I am a child as well… but I can take you there. Hold hands, one and all… and, I will take you there.”
Everyone felt elated as if a miracle was taking place. It felt as if all pain was lifted… all cares and worries dissolved. People began to hold one another, hand in hand, amidst the sounds of ethereal music and the flutter of angel wings.
The one word spoke in Eddy’s mind, “no.” He held Anthony’s hand. He wrapped his arms around Anthony. It was an affirmation of their love. They were together, but everyone else was gone. Ruth was gone. The world continued, but nothing was the same. Reality was unraveling. The sun was beginning to dim. Night and day melted together like wax crayons… Twilight engulfed the world.
He had everything he ever wanted; but, then the world fell apart. There was an explosion at the Large Hadron Collider. Matter collapsed into energy. Everything was suddenly gone. “No,” Davi Odman said to himself, “it didn’t happen. It was all fake news. The Collider was foolproof.”
He looked around and saw the world was still intact. Nothing was changed except his eyesight. Tiny floaters speckled his vision possibly due to a detached retina. He also noticed a change in the light spectrum from bright to dark and, then, he saw a man standing in the corner of the room; a dark man.
Davi was happy when he moved to Tucson, a new city, a new life. He was filled with hope and great expectations. He just got married. After thirty years of solitary living he met someone who changed his life.
The flood waters were rising. The audience was fascinated. Eyes were glued to digital-flimsies and TV monitors. Fire also captivated the audience. Huge firestorms burst across the screens… destroying whole cities in California. Viewers were placated by images of death and destruction… eyes glued to I-pads… questions and protests held at bay. “No such thing as global warming!”
“Just be Happy,” a musical interlude was suddenly cut short by a dissonant click.
On the Thirteenth floor of the Penobscot Building in Detroit, Michigan, twenty-three stenographers (all female) furiously punched keys on Burroughs adding-machines. Figures never lie, but the totals did not add up.
They acted like teenagers, young lovers, even though both men were fast approaching late middle-age. Davi kissed his partner tenderly. Adam relaxed into the arms of his lover.
It was a trick of the light that made the sun disappear. In the ancient world a Total Eclipse was feared as a sign of the End Times. Superstitions were overturned by science, but fear of a dying sun continued to persist.
The dark man was cut from the fabric of space and pinned to the corner of the room where Davi Odman sat. Davi could hear a persistent knocking. He heard the rattling of wooden shutters and the rushing sound of a train that never stopped.
Adam loved to play games. He pretended to be a dominatrix. Davi fought back. The gentle rub of theatrical make-believe characterized the relationship. Always fighting, always loving. One always cooked and the other always cleaned. Hand in glove, hand in hand; then giant cobras crawled up the drain pipe. Cobras and Pythons were featured on TV: talking heads dismissing the obvious and supporting lunacy. Others fought tooth and nail to balance reality, but to no avail. They were stigmatized as socialists or homos.
Sabrina Nightingale was an alchemist with a PhD in Physics. She understood the mechanics of Time and she was the Director of the Prognostication Bureau in the Penobscot Building. The figures were no longer reliable and it was no longer possible to predict the future. New particles beyond the Higgs Boson were discovered when the Hadron Collider was in operation, smashing atoms. The unpredictable trump Effect changed everything.
Davi and Adam were caught up in the frenzy of changing times. Elections no longer seemed to matter. Results were dissolved in a vat of audacious protests and complaints. Tea drinking became the nations pastime. Marriage equality was condemned along with racial equality. The first amendment was hanging by a thread. The nation was shifting in Time to an earlier era when equal rights were the prerogative of wealthy, white men.
Everyone was stoned at the party. Davi and Adam sang love songs in a Virtual Reality sitcom. People were trading shares of actual experience for adventures in dream-time.
Thanksgiving came and went in a haze of cannabis smoke. The hungry and poor were fed giblets from Kentucky Fried Chicken as an ad promotion. The leader of the people gave thanks to himself for making the nation great again. Soon the poor and elderly would be lifted up from poverty and put to work cleaning highways and carrying boulders.
Sabrina Nightingale was beside herself, caught between time zones and unable to stabilize. She phased (in and out) like a badly distorted TV image. She wasn’t the only one. Time itself was unhinged and the trump effect was collapsing into a black hole that would suck the world into oblivion. Sabrina was determined to sacrifice herself to the ravages of Time and trump in order to stabilize reality. In an unexpected twist the situation backtracked due to the incursion of the holiday season and Black Friday Super Sales. Nothing was as powerful as the American hunger for materialism, gadgetry; and bigger, better stuff. It was family gift-giving time. The president and his family were featured everywhere, on every screen, and in every newspaper. The leader led the nation in buying and selling. Nothing was out of bounds: hotels, casinos, and Arab Princes. Collusion was on the high stakes table. Russia made for good TV. Investigations could only intensify ratings. When truth came to shove, POTUS was a bit concerned about his family who were looking at prison time for crimes against nature, but nothing could distract from the Holiday Sale-a-thon. who would pay the most for the USA… would it be Russia, The United Arab Emirates, China, or North Korea?
Sabrina was a Time Traveler. She flitted across the centuries like a butterfly, but she could only observe; she couldn’t participate or change events in Time. She could foresee great danger on the event horizon quickly approaching. Her world was disappearing due to the fallacious trump effect. In an effort to take back her power she joined protests — every effort no matter how small helped, but nothing was definitive.
Davi and Adam watched the news together. They held hands. They built a fort from blankets and hid beneath the covers. The world appeared dark. The sun was dying even as global warming ransacked the planet. Love was not the answer in a world torn asunder by wars fueled by greed. Davi never talked about the dark-man in the corner of the room. He wasn’t sure if it was an apparition or something more substantial. Was it real or a figment of his imagination. He wondered if it was an alien or a messenger from god.
The political debate proceeded in the pavilion at Upper-State University. Politics went viral on the internet like thousands of newly engineered viruses. Video Screens exploded with profanity. No one was certain if the back-alley talk was due to a viral infection or due to political maneuvering. Computers were always on. There were whispered innuendos about spies — no one felt safe. There were accidents set off by exploding phones adding to the paranoia. Discord was everywhere.
Heads were spinning. The election was a battleground fought over tariffs, border walls, and locker room etiquette. Surrogates gushed with praise for their powerful bosses, condoning everything that dripped like grease from the mouths of their leaders. Clandestine contracts were signed in corporate backrooms, souls were bartered and sold. Money greased the wheels of political power.
Hate-core music was yelling over loud speakers and there were riots in the streets. Storm troopers marched through the city wearing orange berets and yelling obscenities against women. A new day was dawning.
The Black Knight satellite was a myth until it was recognized as real by millions of star gazers and scientists. It was reported to be thousands of years old, but no one knew for certain. Astronauts observed it from the International Space Station. Davi and Adam saw the story on the eleven-o-clock news. Scientists reported the satellite was waking up. A great engine started to hum and click. Lights of an unknown origin began to appear on the hull of the satellite. The dark, pitted surface appeared to split open and a large package or crate floated out from the hull. The package maneuvered and set a course to the surface of the planet. It was a gift or warning from some long, lost Alien Civilization. There was no rational explanation. Certainly current events on Earth had something to do with the awakening — but what? No one had an answer. Time seemed to stop. Everyone waited for the delivery… and the aftermath.