The Short Stories Of Mila Strictzer (3) "To be executed, that is saddest, in my mind because they have no more options, no more free will and that is what God gave us humans, free will. Humans don’t have the law to take away man’s free will to the point of death, where there is truly no more left at all anymore." "So you don’t believe in capital punishment." "No." "What about us, aren’t we being punished by the state? The government says we are here fighting to defend out country from defeat, and maybe that’s true, but is it worth dying for?" "Probably not, in the end. But a lot would change, if we were not here to die for it." "So what then? I think people are just scared of change. We’re all going to die, anyway, like you say." "So you want this insane fanatic to run the world?" "Well…no. He may be the exception to the rule, but I think God sent him here because we, as humans, just kept warring against each other and we would not learn. I think God said, ‘here is a real enemy; true evil.’ Now, win this one, or else. And if we win, maybe then we get the clue." "I hope we win." "But what about dying." "What about it?" "Sometimes, I think dying hurts others even more." "I think it is pretty sad, still." "Yea, it’s sad, but if you can deal with it, to die is not all that bad." "Maybe your right." "Maybe." Christmastime in New York City has to be the best anywhere. There must be a hundred songs about exactly just how it is, chestnuts roasting and all that. Everyone seems to be trying to do their part to contribute to the overall collective magic feeling. Things had been so great for a long while, I had my family, my kids and a descent job. We had parties and all our friends would be there. But this last Christmas I lost my life. I didn’t die, but that was when I reached the end of my road. There was just nowhere left to go. I had come a long way, sure, and maybe I can still pull out of this one, too. But it doesn’t seem like it anymore. I caught chicken pox from one of my kids. Just my luck, I had never had it before and it can really hit you strong when you are older so I was out a good three weeks or so and I lost my job. My estranged wife came by the apartment to check on me, she was staying with her mom for no apparent reason, only once, fucking bitch. My whole body was covered in sores from head to toe. Every single inch of my body was covered; my eyelids, my genitals, everything. It just seemed like the most incredible bad luck thing to have happen. Toward the end I could even not move, all I would do was get up to use the bathroom or get some food from the refrigerator. When I saw myself starting to get pretty bad, I put on a hat, a pair of sunglasses and a scarf and went to the corner store, even though it was hard to just walk. I bought four bags of food. I took the shopping cart home with me and packed up the food in our apartment. That was basically the last thing I did for a long time. Then, after that, I saw myself starting to get real bad, worse day-by-day. The landlord knocked loud on the door one day. I did not get up from bed, I couldn’t even move. He came back after an hour or so with the key and opened the door. I could tell that he paused in the living room for a minute, to look around, probably. Then he said, "Hey! Is anyone in here?! Who the hell is here?!" I groaned, about all I could do, and then I heard him come into the bedroom. I was lying naked in the bed, because it helped ease the pain a little to not have any covers on me and I had all three fans blowing on full, so the place was loud. "Jesus fucking Christ!" The landlord said, he had to shout a little above the fans. Then he quickly put his shirt over his mouth. He was a short, fat man and had almost no hair left on his head, which always made me wonder why he would just not shave the last two strands off. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asked, seriously wondering. I answered in a low, slow voice, "I have chicken pox. Did you ever have it before? If not, get the fuck out. Matter fact, get the fuck out, anyway." "Look, asshole, you’re a week past due on your rent. Since you’re laid up, I’ll give you to Friday, then I am calling the police. And I have no clue what the fuck they’ll will do with your ass, either," He said and then he turned and walked away. I heard the door slam behind him. It was Wednesday and I really did not know how I would be able make it out of there by Friday. But I also did not want the fucker to call the cops on me. I already had a warrant out from a while back when I hit my stupid wife one time and she had freaked out and called the cops and then filed on me but I didn’t show up for the court date. I was in a bad way. My folks couldn’t help; my dad was probably drunk right now and my mom, who knew? I have one brother but he has his own problems to deal with. So somehow, I got out of bed and I took a long bath. I mean, I did not get out of the water until late the next morning. I just smoked cigarettes and threw them in the toilet and drank water from the bathtub tap. When I got out, my body felt like one giant ocean sponge. The sores got a little less red and the pain eased slightly, though. I laid down on the bed until I was dried off from the fans and then I felt a lot better. I managed to get on my clothes, put on my Army field jacket and a hat and sunglasses and I walked slowly out of my apartment to the street. I have never been a homeless person before, and I don’t consider myself to be homeless, but I don’t have a home to go to anymore. The park is the best place to go to. No one is really there and the people who are there are not rushing around and they look at you like they almost expect you to be there. As if they are walking through a zoo or something and they expect to find the homeless there. They pause, stare, and then move on again about their ways. I can rest in the grass and the police don’t really come over, either, because there is a lot of space. It gets cold at night. My sores eventually went away completely and then my body felt more or less okay. About all I do is drink when I can with some buddies of mine. I still have a few dollars in a savings account but I don’t tell anyone that. They’re always by the rocks behind the back entrance to the subway, my three buddies. I go over there at night, when it gets real cold. "Merry Christmas, ye fine gentlemen," Ralph said even though I was the only one walking up. He was kneeling in the grass, working on a small fire that he had made with some tree wood and matches. Where we were, behind the big rocks, there was no one else there and the police would never make their way over to us. So basically, it was just us three, alone in great big New York City. We could make the fire just about as big as we wanted to. For now, however, Ralph was just getting it started. He was ex-Army, a vet like me but he was in Vietnam, so pretty soon that fire would be blazing and we would be warm like he always got it going. And maybe one of them had found something to drink, too. Then it would be a Merry Christmas. Bill and Ephraim were there, too, sitting next to the fire. Bill was smiling as I came up. Ephraim, he was a Philippino man. Those were my buddies, all I had now. It was Christmas day. "How is it a Merry Christmas?" I asked. "Because we’re all here, celebrating Christmas together." "I don’t think there is anything merry about it, to hell with the day I was born," I said. Then Ephraim said to me, "You know, John, your always complaining. Here’s what I say; live by the sword, die by the sword, man. Whose fault is it that we are here? I know you know. So either do something about it for once or quit bitching." So I sat down next to the fire, closed my eyes and silently meditated for a few moments. Ephraim continued, "Last night I saw a ghost, I swear to God, I was just dozing, not really asleep and the hair on the back on my neck stood on its end. And the ghost said something to me. It said, don’t judge God, my friends, it said to not judge God. And those that do, they will be smashed like worms. Man is born into trouble and the sparks fly upward, see what I am saying? We should be happy to just be here, God is fixing our problems for us, see, maybe it’s tough, but we don’t got anything to worry about anymore, right? And when we walk out of this, we’ll be better off for it." I answered, "Ephraim, shut up for once with your holy rolling bullshit. You know what, Ephraim? I’ll play along, like I got anything better to do. I am poisoned, Ephraim. Everything I touch is cold, every person I meet I want to run away from. I can’t continue on like this. How can I do anything; my soul is poisoned, don’t you understand? So how do I hope? I go to sleep, just like you, and pray for the morning to come as fast as it can and for the sun to rise again. My body is covered with sores and my flesh is cut in huge chunks from the scars. I would just assume die right now. That would make it easier, Ephraim. Why can’t God just finish off with me?" The fire was blazing well now, as Ralph had just kept working on it, adding more wood to it, while I talked with Ephraim. We were all warm now and we four sat around the fire and looked at the flames. Finally, from the silence, Bill said, "You know, John, I am not saying your complaining but every time we come here to talk, it always seems like we wind up talking about your problems. That’s fine and all but you never seem to listen to our advice. What about every one else? Don’t you think you had just a little bit to do with your ending up here? I am not saying it was your entire fault, but you know how someone who has been divorced like four or more times still does not think maybe they have a problem? Well, maybe it’s the same thing with you. Maybe you, and you alone, are the problem." I answered Bill, "All day long, Bill, I look at everything, the skyscrapers, the trees in this park and nothing ever changes. Everything just stays the same. I just want some answers, man. I know it is partly my fault but I can’t find any answers from anything to help me figure it all out, do you know what I mean?" Then Ralph finally put down his big tree limb that he had been stirring the fire with and spoke, "I agree with Bill, too, John. But I have one more thing to add. If you’re searching for answers you need to ask yourself first. That is all we are saying, John. Stop asking the sky and the skyscrapers and everything else that is around you. Ask yourself, man." I answered Ralph, "Your right, Ralph, but if what Ephraim says is true, then I need to find my peace with God first before I can look within. And I still think that I can only find my peace with God by looking around me first. When I get my answers from all that is around me, then I will start to look within. Something has to tell me first. Still, I know you are all right." Now Ephraim answered me, "You think you have all the answers, some kind of insight into the right path to take? What makes you so special? I still think you need to make your peace with God first, but right here and right now. Then and only then can you find your own inner peace." I said to all three of my friends again, "I just can’t do it just like that. I need real peace, man. You all have these answers for me and I thank you as my good friends that you are but I still feel the same every day, no matter what; voidless, empty." Then Bill quietly said, "John, if you think you know it all, then why ask us? Why don’t you just let us know when you’re done telling us what you think and then relax and let us reply?" I was agitated by what Bill was saying, but I still coolly answered him, "How long do I have to listen to your words tear me down?" Ralph said, "John, we’re just trying to get through to that thick head of yours, to help you, man. I think first you need to realize that you are not right. At least, you should accept that you need some advice. But you keep refusing us." At last, I said to them all, "Listen, you guys are my good buddies but I don’t think you see it my way. Not at all. I am saying I need to be a peace first and then I can do anything I want. But I am not at peace, don’t you see?" Ralph said, "Let’s take a vote. How many here think John is not, and will not, maybe never, accept that he must first look to God in order to then look within?" Ralph, Bill and Ephraim all raised their hands up. I stared at them for a moment in silence. Then I said, "I am right here, no matter what you say. I don’t know why God won’t let me find peace with myself, and that is all I have to say." Only Ralph looked a little startled at what I said. Then he answered me, "Well, then, John, maybe you need to leave our fire." I was shocked. These were my buddies. Why they were kicking me out of our sanctuary, the only thing I had, I was mystified at. But I didn’t think twice, I just turned and walked away, I did not even look back. As a matter of fact, I never saw those three men again for the rest of my life, although I looked for them on several occasions. I even went back to the same spot every Christmas day ever since then to see if they were there but they weren’t. So I got a few bucks out of the machine with my ATM card that I still had in my sock and bought a fifth of whiskey. I drank the whole bottle and then I walked through the park, stumbling, quite drunk. At one point in the night, I walked over a subway exhaust grate and just then a subway train went by underneath me and the wind blew up against me, like a whirlwind. Then I heard the voice of God speak to me. I swear to God that it was the voice of God. This is what the voice of God said to me, "Are you the one that takes counsel from wise men and then makes that counsel dark, all the while knowing nothing?" I did not know what to say. I was in awe by the voice of God. But before I could answer, the voice of God continued, "Gird up your loins, boy, because I will answer you now and then you will answer me back, do you understand me?" "Ahhh…" was all I could muster. "Were you there when I laid the foundations of the Earth? Go ahead and answer me at any time, if you know! Do you have any idea what measurements I drew up? And just what exactly do you suppose the foundations of the Earth are connected to? Do you know where I put the cornerstone to it all? Well? Any idea?" God continued on in my vision, "Who do you suppose closed the sea after I was finished with the land, as if it were a womb? And when I made the clouds as a garment over the sea, thick darkness its only cover, telling it to stop only at my own decreed place, were you there? Have you commanded the mornings since you existed? Did you turn the clay of the Earth into a seal, as a covenant, eternal before me? Can you open the doors of hell? Have you seen the shadow of death on those same doors? Go ahead, answer at any time! Where does light go? And where does dark come from? Do you know why I hold back war against thee? Do you understand why light is parted into pieces? Do you understand why after there is nothing I allow a single flower to grow? Out of whose womb comes the ice? Do you know why the Pleiades huddle together as stars? Can you take off Orion’s belt? Can you make the clouds rain? Do you know where to send the lightning bolts? Who provides the raven his food?" Then there was a pause but then God finally finished with a last bellow in my ears, "Who are you?" "I am John." Then no more sound came because no more subway trains rolled by, so I just stood there for a moment in awe but then I thought I should answer God in my vision so I said, "I see now I am just a speck of existence before you. But I never doubted you all the same, I only doubted myself." And, amazingly, the voice of God again answered me, "Shut up and stand up like a man, boy! Look now and I will show you all that I am," God said to me and then God showed me an awesome vision before my eyes. I really cannot explain what happened next, because it was just so awesome that words can’t describe it. But when the vision was gone, I said to God, "I can see you now with my eyes and hear you with my ears. I can know now all that you are saying and I repent before you, God, for doubting your decisions concerning my overall welfare and I will doubt myself no more from this day forward." This time God did not answer me and I was a little relieved for that. So I got caught the subway and I fell asleep on the train. I knew where I was going. I was going home. I got off at the stop to my house, left the subway, walked to the street where my house was, and went to the front door of my apartment. I did not need to knock because I already had the key. The following year, during Christmastime in New York City, my wife and I had some friends over at our apartment, just like in the old days. At one point in the evening, one of our guests, can’t remember who that was now, raised his glass of wine and said, "I would like to propose a toast to our gracious host, John, whom has returned from the dead to reclaim his family, his friends and his life." "Here here!" Everyone said and cheered and then laughed. In my head, I was angry and confused at the insensitivity of the remark, but in my heart, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of love. So I raised my glass, too. "Tom, do you ever wonder what the hell’s going on in the world?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, like, everything else is happening and has happened before, too."
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