“There is a blessing waiting for you every time you give. Please do not get your hopes up; you’re not going to win the lottery by giving to the church; regardless of the amount. All I’m saying is that I would challenge all of you to start giving ten percent of every dollar amount that is given to you. I promise you will reap benefit after benefit, and blessing after blessing. Allow me to give you an example. There was a man who was late on every single bill that he had. The rent was late, the student loans were three months past due, and the insurance on his car had not been paid. Now, anytime you don’t pay your insurance the company does one of two things: they either cancel your policy or they process paperwork to have your driver’s license suspended. He had credit card debt from three different cards, and he had taken out a loan claiming to use it for bills. Sadly, he used that money to have a grand time one weekend and went downtown. On his way, he’s trying to build up some false motivation to ensure that the worry of his bills won’t be on his mind. By doing this, he actually builds more and more worry for himself, leading to an overwhelming state of anxiety. He parks his car out front of the first nightclub, shuts his car off, locks the door, and heads inside. A homeless man is pressed up against the wall with one shoulder, and he is coughing into his hands. After a fit of loud hacking, the homeless man asks for a single dollar. Feeling generous, the man agrees and gives him a dollar. The homeless man takes his weight off of the wall, and blesses the man. The man starts to walk away faster, but is caught up by the sleeve of his shirt, with the homeless man in tow. The homeless man asks if he has ever been to church, and the man replied that he hadn’t. The homeless man was shocked and said that with his eagerness to give, he would have assumed that he was familiar with the same scripture I have read to you all this morning. The man said no and the homeless man recited it for him, right outside of the club. The man was baffled and had never heard such a thing before. He turns to look at his car, almost considering now to turn around and go home. Instead he turns back around to ask the homeless man a few more questions, but was nowhere to be found. No footprints. No smell of ages old body odor. Nothing. The homeless man was gone. All the while the bouncer standing by the main door has been watching and says that the man can either come inside, or he can go pretend to be a lunatic on someone else’s property. Quickly the man gets into his car and goes home.
“The next morning, he drives to a church just down the street, walks inside and sits down. Apparently, he has missed a lot of the opening bits because the main preacher is teaching a lesson. He listens closely to the message, and he hears the familiar scripture from last night. The preacher follows up with showing pictures on a big screen about his debts being paid off, and now living debt free. The whole congregation erupted in applause. Then the preacher motioned for the offering plates to be passed, and the whole church seemed way too eager to give out of their wallets and purses. The man thought this was crazy. Yet he still chose to sit there just to see what else the preacher had to say. By the time the offering plate got to where he was sitting, he was sweating. By the time the plate passed over his lap, his heart was beating like a big pounding drum inside his chest. As the plate went to the person next to him, he found himself grabbing the plate. His reached into his pocket, and pulled out all of the money that he was originally going to use for the club last night and placed it in the offering plate.
“Fast forward a few months and he paid off his loan in full. He couldn’t make heads or tails as to where the extra money was coming from, but he made sure that he gave at least ten percent to the church. A few months later, his insurance was back on track. A few months more and all of his bills were up to date. Exactly one year from the encounter with the homeless man he had become debt free. It was all because he was obedient to the word of God.
“So, without further ado, I want to issue the challenge again to you. Give ten percent and you will watch the blessings unfold. By the way, if you would like to know about the man in the example I just gave; it is I who stands before you now.” Jeffers says.
I watch as the entire church open their mouths wide in astonishment. The offering plates are passed throughout, and the people are practically emptying their wallets and purses without hesitation. What has this man done? This is not the Catholic Church way of doing things. In all my life, I’ve never heard such a message preached! This is robbery and someone has to say something about it now! You know what, I think I will.
As Jeffers turns to walk back to his seat, I rise and make my way to the podium. He looks at me and a smile begins to stretch from the corner of his mouth. As he passes me, he places his hands on my shoulders and whispers to me, “It is almost like you read my mind. Well done. There may be hope for you yet, Elverson. Now, go read your portion and we’ll be done for the day. You better not mess this up for me.” He walks to his chair and sits down, as I stand. I am frozen in astonishment. From the sounds of it, I would say that he is trying for some kind of movie award, because only actors try this hard to make an impression in front of a live audience. I sigh. I do believe that he has the wrong focus here.
I turn to make my way to the podium, and I’m quickly reminded of why wearing every single piece of the priestly garments are important. Without my cincture, the stole that I had draped over my shoulders has slid down and wrapped around my ankles.
I trip and fall, with my arms flailing outwards trying to catch myself on anything that may be close by. My left hand catches the corner of the podium, but gravity wins. and the rubber trim that holds the veneer in place rips off. My face meets the floor with great impact, and everything goes black. The sounds of gasps, panic, doors opening, lots of yelling, and lots of moving around, are the only thing keeping me conscious. I try to make out what the yelling is all about. I still can’t see a thing though. I tilt my head slightly, but it hurts to move. I think I’ll just lie still for a bit and see if I can focus.
9
The Real Bully
“Stephen, it was great to hear your story. I really do hope that you have the opportunity to become that physics teacher. You seem extremely passionate about it!”.
“Professor.” He corrects me.
“Right!”. With that, I leave. From the sound of it, 12 days seems to go by quicker than I originally thought. I have to get moving. I want to hear more stories. If I made Stephen feel that good about himself, I wonder how many others are feeling the same way. I need to go find out. I exit the loading dock, and I’m back in the main assembly area. I have so many thoughts going through my head like never before. I’m staring at the floor as I move, hoping to focus my thoughts better.
Not watching where I’m going, I bump into another GOC. Crap. I hope it’s not another Luther. I raise my head to meet my next owner of potential Aiden-directed threats. Not this time though. The GOC before me has a very calm expression. He’s the same size as me, but I’m still a bit worried, though. Will he say something to shoo me away? Will he be kind and welcoming? Maybe he has a story that he would like to share. Well, you’ll never know unless you ask. It couldn’t hurt. Then again, I don’t want to seem like some nosey GOC trying to get into everyone’s business. What would they think of me? What if I say the wrong thing and he laughs at me? I can see it already. I would say something dumb, this guy laughs, calls over his buddies, they laugh, and then I become the laughing stock of the entire city. I don’t know if I want to face that. What if I open my mouth and nothing comes out? What if I …
“You alright, buddy?” he asks me, snapping me out of my wandering state of mind and back to reality. That was weird. It was almost as if I was getting more worried. Whatever.
“Uh, yeah. I’m ok. I didn’t mean to name into you.” Did I just hear myself correctly? That didn’t make any sense at all.
With raised eyes, the GOC in front of me asks, “You sure you alright, boy? You talk a bit funny. Maybe that hit you took to yer noggin messed up yer speakin’.”
I need to try that again. “What I meant was I didn’
t mean to bump into you. What’s your name?” I check. Yep, that sounded ok that time. “I am sorry sir. You’re not mad, are you?”
He tilts his head and says, “Shoot no, I aint mad at ya. I was just sittin’ here thinkin’ how I was supposed to bring water from the lake to some cows to make sure they don’t get too thirsty. I say that because I see myself havin’ this huge farm. It’s got a lake on it, but the dang thing is on the other side of a cliff. If my cows go wanderin’ too far, then they might go fallin’ off that cliff and drown. From what I hear, cows are pretty dumb.” Now my mouth is open, but nothing is coming out. He says, “Yeah I know. It’s got me thinkin’ ‘bout it for a little while now.” He must assume I know what he’s talking about. I don’t have even the foggiest idea.
There’s a moment of silence between us. Should I just say something…anything? Do I make something up? Or should I wait? He’s just standing there with a blank look on his face. Awkward. Finally, he breaks the silence. “Dang I’m sorry! You asked my name, and I’m talking ‘bout watering cows. My name’s Jimmy. My boss said I’m gonna be a farmer. What about you?”
“Well, he told me I was going to be… wait. Your boss? Who is that? Are you talking about the captain up in headquarters?” I ask.
“Nope. He aint the boss of me. I’m talking ‘bout the Superintendent, man. He’s my buddy. He and I talk all the time. I ask Him all kinds of questions ‘bout what I’m supposed to do, and where I’m supposed to go, and who I’m supposed to talk to. He’s got a lot of neat stuff to say”. That’s interesting. Here I thought that the Superintendent only spoke to us in the auditorium.
“Right. Of course! The Superintendent. What was I thinking?” I ask.
“I aint sure. What were you thinking? I aint no mind reader, ya know.” Jimmy says.
“Sorry. I was talking to myself.” I say.
Jimmy scrunches his mouth in an upwards direction. “Ya know, if you keep talking to yerself like that, people will think yer crazy. That’s why I keep all them kinds of conversations in my head. And ya know what? He still talks to me. It’s like no one else can hear Him except me. Come to think of it, yer the first person I’ve had an actual conversation with that doesn’t involve answering questions that don’t make much sense.”
Say no more. I already know who Jimmy is referring to. So far, just about every GOC I’ve talked to has had the unfortunate privilege to talk to Mr. Idiot. However, Jimmy finds it necessary to give me more details. “Now that I think about it, there was this one feller who came up to me in an attempt to talk to me. His eyes couldn’t hold still for nuthin’. His voice was the most dad-gum annoyin’ thing I’d ever heard. It sounded like he was dying and trying to shout random things at the same time. So, I figured I’d just sit back and listen to him blabber on ‘bout nothin’.
“There was one thing he kept on rambling ‘bout. He said it a few times, because I guess he figured out that I wasn’t paying attention. I wasn’t. No matter. He asked me if I knew how to make meat pies. I looked at him square in the eye and said, ‘Boy, you aint too bright are ya?’ and he said something like he didn’t know if he was supposed to be shiny because nobody else in here was shiny.”
I lost it. Jimmy lost it. We both start laughing very loud. After our laughter died down, Jimmy continued on with more details; sigh. “I laughed ‘bout as hard now as I did then. I tell ya, we are all created with a purpose. Some make it, others don’t. I really hope that boy doesn’t make it, bless his heart. That boy gives me a headache just listening to him.” He says.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” I say. “He sat right behind me in the auditorium.”
“Oh wow! You too? Well that makes two of us, then. That dad-gum fool sat two rows in front of me when I went through. He kept tappin’ the poor feller in front of him just to ask him ‘bout spicy milk pies.” Jimmy says. We both share a look in silence that can only be translated as a cross between disgust and shock.
I want to change the subject. I think I have had enough talk of the foolish wonder for now. So, I ask, “Jimmy. Can you tell me more about your farm?” That made a huge difference. Jimmy gives me a huge smile, lifts his head up and begins to speak again.
“I’d be happy to. I started askin’ questions ‘bout what a farmer was, and what a farm was and such. Come to find out, I get to look after all kinds of animals. Cows, chickens, pigs, sheep, goats, rabbits, horses, and I think there are a couple of dogs in there somewhere. Anyhow, most of these animals are good for producing things that humans eat. Well, when we become humans. Things like cheese, milk, eggs, fur, and wool. I don’t think we eat wool or fur though. I may need to double check on that one. Then, when them animals that produce those kinds of things get to be a certain age, I get to turn them into more food. Things like beef, pork, bacon, lamb chops, stew, and fried chicken. I didn’t ask ‘bout that last one. I figured I’d learn soon enough. All the rest of it, from what I remember seeing, looked really good.”
“So, what happens after those animals that you just turned into food are all gone?” I ask.
“Oh, good question!” he says. “I asked the same thing. Mr. Superintendent said that each one has something called babies. By the time those babies are grown up and old enough, it’s time to turn the older ones into food. That process keeps going ‘round and ‘round until it’s time for me to quit or go elsewhere; and it’s called farming. Well I’ll be! Ya got me jaw-jacking again. I like talking ‘bout myself and all, but I aint heard a single thing ‘bout what you do. You’ve got my attention, buddy.”
Where do I begin? I didn’t get anywhere near the amount of detail that Jimmy got. I admit I’m a little jealous. I feel a little insignificant right now, because my story is not that detailed, and I’m afraid Jimmy is going to laugh at me for it being so short. You know what? I think I will tell him anyway. I mean, I could easily add stuff in to make it lengthier, but I get the feeling that that would be wrong somehow. If I did that though, where would I begin? He would probably figure out quickly that I was making stuff up. He’d ask me questions that I wouldn’t have the answers to. It would become this huge mess, and then he would hate me because I gave him a fake story. Next thing I know I could become the laughing stock of the whole city. I can see it now: Luther and I sitting side by side while the whole crowd is gathered around for a laugh out loud session. One of us is a pompous windbag, and the other a phony story teller. Hooray. I’m leaping for joy.
You can always tell him the truth, son.
Then again, I can always tell him the truth. So, I tell Jimmy what little I have to work with. “You see, I wasn’t given as much detail as you were given. So, I’m afraid that my story won’t be as interesting as yours.”
Jimmy smiles and says, “Shoot. That’s alright, buddy. It aint gotta be fancy or nothin’.”
Well that’s good. I feel a little better now. “All I was told is that I am going to be a leader of men, and that I will change an entire nation of people.”
If Jimmy’s eyes got any wider than where they are now, I swear they would pop out of his head. “Dad gum! That sounds cool, man!” he says.
That wasn’t as bad as I thought. “Thanks! I have no idea what I will do, though, in order to change a whole nation of people. I don’t even know how large said nation is going to be.”
“Give it time, buddy. Give it time. Somethin’ tells me that you aint supposed to figure that out ‘til later. You’ll be alright.” Jimmy says.
I hear a noise. Jimmy hears it, too. It is the sound of laughter coming from around the corner, along with what sounds like very angry shouting…, and something else I can’t quite make out. Then I realize what that strange sound is, and it is heading this way.
The sound grows louder and louder, until the source comes around the corner. Luther is shouting at the top of his lungs, “Get away from me!” and he is moving very fast. Jimmy and I look at one another. Luther doesn’t stop, and passes us, shouting the whole way, “I just want to take a nap! Leave me alone
you fool!”
“That’s Luther.” I say. “I had the unfortunate privilege of almost being his next challenger.”
Jimmy laughs and says, “Yep. I’ve heard ‘bout that feller. Aint no GOC strong enough to take him down; yet he keeps looking for challengers. All anyone can hope to do is out run him. If I were you, I’d steer clear of him. It seems that he aint been blessed with good listenin’. Matter of fact, I figure he aint got nothing up in that large noggin of his. I bet you could tap it and a hollow sound would come out!”
I laugh, too. Thinking back to when I met Luther a little while ago, I don’t think tapping on his head just to hear a hollow sound would have been in my best interest. It very well could have made things a lot worse than how they originally turned out. It would have been funny, though.
As the roaring sounds of Luther fade away, a whole new layer of audible chaos is getting louder. Although I’ve never heard a cow before, if one of Jimmy’s cows fell off the cliff he mentioned while shouting random cow words, that’s probably what this cacophony sounds like You know something? It sounds like someone is dying yet filled with randomness at the same time. Jimmy looks at me and says, “Boy, you better brace yerself. I know that voice.” I know that voice too!
From around the same corner that Luther had appeared from, the very unique looking GOC appears. It’s Mr. big-eyed, droopy-mouth himself. He walks right up and stops right in front of us. As he opens his mouth to speak, Jimmy and I wait for the barrage of stupidity that we know is going to follow.
Fate Of The Dragon Page 12
