God on a Harley

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by Joan Brady


  He was too wise and too sincere to laugh at something that wasn’t funny. His eyes glowed a soft brown in the summer moonlight, and everything reflected in them was beautiful. “Try not to be so afraid, Christine. And try not to be so bitter. Trust yourself. Let go. There’s a wonderful life out there just waiting for you to catch up with it. Let go of the anger and let me show you the way.”

  “How do I know I can trust you this time?” I asked in a timid voice.

  He put a long graceful finger over my lips and said, “Shhhhh. Do you hear that?”

  I heard nothing and said so.

  “It’s the sound of some walls coming down. Walls that you’ve built around your heart. Do you hear them now? You’ve begun to trust me a little and the walls are crumbling already.”

  “No, I don’t hear anything,” I said obstinately.

  “No matter,” he said casually. “As long as I know they’re coming down, it doesn’t matter whether or not you hear them just yet. By the way,” he added, “this is the first of your personal commandments. ‘Do not build walls, but learn to transcend them.’ ”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “How is that going to help get my life back on track?”

  “You tell me.” He smiled patiently.

  Oh, God, now he was going to make me work. “Well, I guess maybe I’ve built up some pretty powerful walls over the years,” I answered pensively. “You know, walls to keep you out. Walls to keep me from believing in you, even though you’re standing right here in front of me. And I’ve also used those walls to keep a lot of other people out too.”

  Joe nodded in agreement, but said nothing. I supposed that meant he wanted me to say more.

  “But I like my walls,” I insisted. “They’ve protected me. They’ve kept a lot of the hurt locked out.”

  “And they’ve also kept a lot of the fear locked in,” he added. “That’s why walls are dangerous. They keep you from seeing what is real.”

  “Okay,” I conceded, “but what about that part about transcending them? Are you saying that now I have to break down all those walls I spent so many years building to perfection?”

  “No,” he said. “That would be too much work. It’s much easier to just rise above them. You know, function independently of them. Just ignore them. It’s not as hard as you might think. The hard part is learning not to build any more of them. Just keep concentrating on going beyond them, no matter how frightening that may seem at times.”

  I was confused. I had no idea how to go about doing that. My walls had served me well and maybe I didn’t want to let go of them.

  “I know it isn’t easy,” he whispered, “but it’s the only chance you’ve got if you want meaning and purpose in your life.”

  I stood there mesmerized by this man who promised to show me the way to happiness. I wanted desperately to believe him, but I didn’t want to be disappointed anymore.

  “I won’t disappoint you this time, Christine,” he whispered. His words fell on my heart like warm water on a block of ice, sending little rivulets of hope that streamed through my eyes.

  “Okay,” I sniffled, “I surrender.”

  Joe’s strong, gentle arms cradled me against his muscular chest, giving me an almost primitive feeling of being protected from the world. All I could hear was his slow and steady heartbeat as my ear rested close to his heart. At first my nurse’s mind assessed it as a normal sinus rhythm, but the more I listened to it, the more it sounded like the waves rolling up on the shore again. Joe smiled down at me, and suddenly I didn’t want any more answers even though I had a million more questions. A cloud of serenity and peace had settled over me, and I wanted nothing to disturb it.

  “I’ve always been so terribly afraid you didn’t exist,” I tearfully admitted.

  “That’s because you feared me and it was just more comfortable not to believe.”

  “But hurtful things kept happening in my life, and I always felt deserted by you,” I retorted. “It just seemed logical to blame you for everything that went wrong.”

  He stroked my hair and looked up at the night sky. “Try to understand that when you blame me for things, you are really blaming yourself. Remember, I am you and you are me. We are forever connected and I shall never let go of you, no matter how hard you try to banish me from your life.”

  He loosened his embrace and cupped my face in those graceful hands, forcing me to look into his bottomless brown eyes. I was amazed at what I saw there. It was my own reflection staring back at me, but I was beautiful in a way that no fashion magazine could ever hope to capture. My face had the same peaceful look that I had noticed on Joe earlier. The tiny lines from all the old hurts and disappointments had been erased, and something nameless and lovely emanated from my eyes. I was speechless, and he chuckled at my amazement.

  “You’ll get used to it.” He smiled. “It’s called peace.” Then, abruptly changing the subject, he added, “There’s just one more thing that I forgot to mention.”

  I waited, not knowing what to expect.

  “You mustn’t discuss this with anyone yet. That’s really important.”

  “But I thought guys like you, I mean, well, if you really are God, I would think you would want me to spread the word, so to speak.”

  “Not anymore. That didn’t work real well the last time. It’s like that game you play where someone whispers a secret to the person next to them and by the time the message gets to the last person in the circle, it’s completely distorted. Well, when you do that on a larger scale, chaos and sometimes even war breaks out.”

  “I never thought of that,” I said as I heard the sound of footsteps resume on the boardwalk. The ocean waves were rolling in again, and everything seemed to be back to normal. I spotted a Beach Patrol scooter coming toward us, and I mentioned to Joe that he might want to get his motorcycle off the beach before he got a ticket. He just laughed, but I didn’t understand why. Of course, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand, but I had a feeling I was about to learn an awful lot.

  “Will I see you again?” I asked, not the least bit bashful.

  His face lit up with an easy smile. “You see? You just did it!”

  “Did what?”

  “Transcended your first wall, without even thinking about it. You asked if you’d see me again. I know you wouldn’t ordinarily do that with a man, even if you were dying to know. And it’s walls like that which have been slowly killing you.”

  He was right, of course, and I was pleased as punch at how easy it had been to transcend that first wall. I could do this, I was certain. “Then there’s hope for me,” I said only half jokingly.

  “There always has been,” he answered seriously.

  “I’d better be going,” I said. “It’s getting late and I have a lot to think about.”

  “I’ll call you,” he said, as I turned toward the boardwalk and the approaching Beach Patrol officer. It wasn’t until I was locked safely inside my car and driving toward home that I realized Joe hadn’t asked for my phone number. But he’d said he’d call me and I needed to believe him.

  “That’s what they all say,” a little voice inside my head muttered.

  4

  TWO WEEKS WENT BY WITHOUT a word from Joe. I found myself just hanging around waiting for the phone to ring, and it annoyed me that I had regressed to such adolescent behavior. I had been completely taken with him that night on the beach, and try as I might, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I tried to convince myself that I was just in some domestic phase and that was why I was spending so much time in my apartment, cleaning and rearranging furniture. Of course, I knew the real reason I was hanging around so much, I just didn’t want to admit it. Even though I had a perfectly reliable answering machine, I wanted to be readily available to see Joe again, if he should happen to call.

  The call never came, and serious doubts began creeping into my heart, spreading poisonous resentment where only days ago, little seedlings of hope had begun to spring up. De
ep inside, I knew it was time to be realistic. How could I even think he would call if I hadn’t given him my unlisted number? And why hadn’t he asked for it? Besides, getting an unlisted number should be a piece of cake for a guy who could stop the ocean and immobilize humanity and brighten the moon.

  I began to wonder if the whole thing had been a dream. Worse yet, maybe it was something similar to a medical condition called pseudocyesis, where a woman with an overpowering desire to have a child, actually develops all the symptoms of pregnancy, including the swollen and protruding abdomen. She actually goes into labor after all this and then delivers nothing. There is no baby; there never was. It is only the mind forcing its deepest wishes upon the body.

  Maybe I had been experiencing a form of this phenomenon the night I met Joe. Maybe because I so desperately wanted a man in my life and also because I wanted to believe in a fair and loving God, my mind had simply created them both for me. It hadn’t been any more real than a false pregnancy. It couldn’t have been.

  I looked down at the mute phone leering back at me from its stand and realized how tired I was of men who said they’d call, then never did. I put on my sneakers and decided to go for a run on the boardwalk. Vigorous exercise always helped me in moments like this. It would lift my spirits and help put things back in perspective, not to mention the calories it would burn off.

  There were a handful of die-hard runners on the boardwalk in spite of the unbearable heat. They were the same ones I see in the winter, running along the beach in blizzards and subzero temperatures. Apparently that “runner’s high” is worth any amount of agony that leads up to it. All I knew about it so far was the agony. I stretched for a few minutes, then started my jog, breaking a sweat even before the first mile. For some reason, I was really enjoying the physical hard work, the sweating and pushing myself to the limit. I concentrated on nothing but getting into that glorious rhythm of a good run and feeling healthy and exhilarated.

  To my surprise, I ran past my usual three mile mark and wasn’t even winded. I continued on as I listened to the pounding surf, and I nodded acknowledgment to the runners who came by in the opposite direction. I must have run close to six miles before stopping, and I felt wonderful as the endorphins released by the vigorous workout coursed through my system. I decided to try harder on a daily basis to increase my daily mileage.

  The phone was ringing when I slid my key into the door. I grabbed a dishtowel on my way to answer it and wiped the sweat from my face.

  “Hello?” I said, a little breathlessly.

  “It’s about time you stopped obsessing about me and thought about your own well-being for a while,” a melodious, male voice said into my ear.

  “Joe,” I said, unable to hide the delight in my voice. “Where have you been?”

  “You mean why haven’t I called. Say what you mean, Christine.” He said it wisely and gently, not chidingly.

  “Okay, why haven’t you called? I was beginning to give up on you.”

  “I know. That’s why I called. You sure don’t give up easily, do you?”

  “Not when it involves something I really want.” There was just a trace of hesitation in my heart now. “And I want to see you again, Joe. I want to talk to you some more.”

  “I know. We will. But first you have to get any romantic notions out of your head. That’s why I haven’t called. I can’t teach you the things you need to learn if you’re going to confuse them with romance.”

  “Of course. You’re right,” I conceded, embarrassed that I had not been able to hide the fact that I was smitten with him. “It’s just that it’s been so long since anyone has made sense to me, or intrigued me, or had something worthwhile to say. You fascinated me that night and quite naturally, I want more. Is that so terrible?”

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s terrible for you. It hurts you. It puts you at my mercy. It keeps you hanging around the telephone when you could be out enjoying all the glorious things I’ve put here for your enjoyment. Things like oceans, sunsets, flowers, warm summer breezes.”

  “But you’ve got to give me some credit, Joe,” I insisted. “I did put you out of my mind tonight and went out for a run and enjoyed some of those very things you mentioned.”

  “That’s why we’re talking right now,” he explained as though he were speaking to a young child. “I can’t penetrate your mind when it’s filled with yearnings and romantic ideas. These lessons or commandments, or whatever you want to call them, are really important for you to learn. You have to be a willing student, Christine. Your mind has to be completely open to them, or we’re both just wasting our time. Do you understand that?”

  “Yes,” I said honestly, but with a heavy heart. He apparently heard the disillusionment in my voice.

  “Christine,” he said tenderly, “the romance and love and relationships are all on their way to you. But it won’t be until later. And it won’t be with me. It can’t be. That’s not my purpose for being here.”

  “I understand,” I said, though I was still disappointed. “But if all those good things are on their way to me, let’s get started. We just wasted two weeks.”

  Joe chuckled warmly. “There was no wasted time at all, Christine. It simply took you two weeks to learn your second commandment.” Then, before I could ask, he suggested, “Why don’t you try to put into words what you think your second commandment is.”

  I thought before I spoke this time. I knew it must have something to do with not obsessing about romance and getting on with my life no matter what. “Okay,” I started, quite certain that I would be guessing correctly. “Thou shalt not hang around waiting for the phone to ring.”

  “Close,” he said. “But that’s just a small detail of the bigger concept. Try again.”

  I closed my eyes and squeezed my temples, but the second commandment eluded me. “I don’t know. Something about obsessions maybe?”

  “Pretty close,” he conceded. “Listen carefully. This is an important one for you. You tend to break this one a lot. Ready?”

  “Ready,” I said, not understanding how I could break a commandment that I didn’t even know about, but I figured that was a topic for another time and discussion.

  His voice was deep and resonant as he recited Commandment Number Two. “Live in the moment. For each one is precious and not to be squandered.”

  I was silent for a moment. There was no doubt this was an appropriate commandment for me. I had just “squandered” many precious moments waiting for Joe to call. I didn’t even want to think about how many times I’d done that over the years with countless other men. I had missed a lot of sunsets and summer breezes and had been distracted from a lot of beautiful things going on around me in the moment. If just these last two weeks were to be converted into moments, I’d probably committed a mortal sin.

  “Try not to think in terms of sin,” Joe said sweetly into my ear. “You’re here to learn, not to dwell on or suffer for the past. Forget all that sin stuff. That was another exaggeration of what I was really trying to say all those years ago. Forget about all that and just live right now, this moment and try to love what you see.”

  We chatted a little longer and I promised Joe I wouldn’t obsess about him anymore. I was beginning to understand what he was saying. It certainly made sense. But how to train myself to live in the moment was a very difficult task for someone like me who wants to know if she’ll ever get married or have children or lose ten pounds or own a house or at least a condominium. I admit, I think about the future. I always thought that was the right way to live. It was my idea of being responsible. If I was going to start living in the moment, I had some seemingly insurmountable changes to make.

  “You can do it,” Joe’s voice reassured me through the phone. “But you’ve got to start practicing right now. When we hang up the phone, I want you to make a list of things about the world you never notice. Not big things either. Keep it simple. You know, everyday things that you tend to take for granted and don’t notice a
nymore. Then I want you to water your plants and think about the way they drink the water up and how the water keeps them green and supple. Try to notice several new things every day, write them down if you must, and I promise you will begin to see your life change. Subtly perhaps, but it will change.”

  My mind was already racing ahead. I wondered if I would only have phone contact with him from now on or if I would ever see him in person again.

  “You’re doing it again,” he warned, “projecting into the future.”

  “Well, I’m pretty new at this,” I said a little defensively, “and it’s going to take a lot of practice for me to get used to this ‘living in the moment’ routine.”

  “Perhaps, but it is one of the greatest gifts you will ever give yourself.”

  “In that case,” I said, “I better go. I’ve got a lot of work to do. Goodnight, Joe.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “They are all good nights. You’ll see.”

  I heard the click of the phone on his end hanging up, and I sat motionless for a moment with the phone still in my hand, unable to stop smiling. I placed the receiver back in its cradle and took out my watering bucket. I filled it to the brim and began watering my array of plants that sat on the floor by the sliding glass doors. I noticed that they actually looked greener and healthier already.

  Somehow, I wasn’t surprised.

  5

  WITHIN ONLY A FEW DAYS, My plants began to delight me with sudden growth spurts. I marveled at their new, vibrant colors and at their new eagerness to grow. It was even becoming necessary to repot a few of them. In a flash of revelation, I realized that my plants were only mirroring me. For I, too, was becoming more colorful and eager to grow these days.

  It was the beginning of my noticing several new things every day. At first, I had looked only for dramatic things like magical sunrises and sunsets. Then I noticed how much simpler it was to notice the smaller things, like the way the seagulls all stand on the beach in the evening, facing in the same direction against the wind, so as not to ruffle their feathers. For the first time since childhood, I took note of the rattling song of locusts in the stillness of the summer night. I wondered how they actually made that sound, and I became so intrigued that I went to the library to look it up.

 

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