WACO’S
LUMMOX
By
Waddie Greywolf’
Chapter
44
As Lazarus
warned, things did begin to get worse. There was a buildup of
talk in the mainstream medium, which was little more than a propaganda
machine for the theocratic regime, the Holy Prophet was considering a
new RFID chip which would allow every red-blooded American patriot to
be
known to the government and make it easier for them to protect.*
Of course, in the government’s news release they didn’t include
information about how the chip would make it convenient and handy for
the Christo-fascist regime to keep tabs on every citizen. Whether
you were for it or against it made little difference, it was mandatory
for every citizen and no one could buy or sell anything without the
chip.
The
mandatory implantation of the chips took much longer than originally
planned. There was great resistance against the chip from
unexpected corners of society. The public wasn’t as naive as the
government thought. Governments always have the tendency to
underestimate the intelligence and sophistication of their
people. By the time the idea of the RFID chips came around there
were enough progressive underground blog sites the information was
there for the people to read and explore, and the majority of the
population was on the net or had access to it in some way. They quickly
learned the chip had other possibilities and benefits for the
government, but the main thorn in the people’s flesh was they were not
allowed to buy or sell anything without one.
For all their
threats and scare tactics the government ran into a block wall.
The more the public resisted the more the government insisted.
When a river runs into a mountain, it goes around it. The Scudder
regime didn’t take into consideration bartering, and there sprang up a
huge network for the exchange of goods and services. The more the
government tried to squash it, the further underground the public
went.
Rural
folks were
the last to become pressured to accept the chip. Scudder and his
men decided they were the most devoted to him and his cause even if
they were the primary beneficiaries of the barter trade. They
were becoming wealthy because of supply and demand. They were
able to get better prices for their produce. The public bought
directly from the farmers and ranchers and felt good about it.
They liked the idea the folks who produced the products they were
buying were getting the money and they felt they were getting a better
quality product. They didn't have to worry about unscrupulous
corporate businessmen passing off tainted meats on them or settle for
feedlot produce fed massive doses of antibiotics. The farmers and
ranchers stood behind their
produce.
Bartering and
direct payment to the producers did away with the corporate middlemen
who, for many years, regulated prices and dictated what they would pay—
always to their benefit. Farmers and ranchers had been screwed
for centuries by the fat-cat corporations. Now they only had to
set their prices to be a bit lower or equal to what the public was
paying the big corporations. They were raking in the
profits. Small farmers became larger farmers and producers
overnight. The large food corporations were the first to
fall in the economic cut backs during the Scudder regime. Since
Scudder himself and his advisor came from rural, agricultural
communities, they had a great deal of sympathy for the country folks
and
allowed it to happen. There was a
period of calm after the first wave of chips were implanted, but
Scudder
foresaw if he pushed it further without a cool down period, he might
lose the whole thing. Rural folks still had their guns, and he
was
afraid of a public uprising. Only this time they would be joined
by the city and more urban folks who depended on the rural folks for
their food.
* * * * * * *
Since the
incident when one of the Temple Guards actually killed the Holy Prophet
and Scudder miraculously arose from the dead to regain his position,
there was a great split among the faithful. Many considered it a
definite sign Jeremiah Scudder was the prophesied anti-Christ and there
were attempts to form strong opposition against him; however, he and
his minions worked just as hard through propaganda to
counterattack those arguments. They weren’t always
successful. What was
puzzling to most folks was the secrecy and lack of credible evidence
about how and why his miraculous recovery was brought about. The
people found themselves questioning why this should be any different
from any of the other audacious lies and contrary information the
neo-cons pumped out since the Bush regime. Even though they saw
vivid, horribly graphic videos of Scudder’s brains blowing out the side
of his head, many were too jaded by Hollywood and CGI effects to buy
into it. On the other hand, they had no problem worshiping a
carpenter who lived over two thousand years ago, ostensibly died for
their sins who was born of a virgin, who just happened to be of the
linage and house of
David, was crucified, died, was buried and arose from the
dead.
That wasn’t too much of a stretch for them at all. It's strange,
if a man is delusional they say he's insane. If a group becomes
delusional they call it religion.
They
never took into consideration there was an earlier Persian holy man by
the name of
Mithra of whom it was written had the exact same life, from virgin
birth, crucifixion and resurrection, and for whom there are ample
historical records. There never were any verifiable historical
records for
the life of Christ. The conversion of Constantine was highly
overrated and was little more than an orchestrated, pumped up,
over-hyped political move. (Sound familiar?) First and
foremost,
Constantine was a political animal. All he wanted was to bring
the warring faction of all the splintered religious groups under one
umbrella, into one all encompassing faith. He called together
all the big dogs of the various holy orders to a meeting in Nicaea to
see if he could iron out their differences. In order to gain a
consensus of religious thought, the Council of Nicaea under Constantine
invented a holy man composed of the legends of Mithra, combined with
the names of the English Druid deity Hesus and the Hindu god
Krishna. To involve British factions, he ruled that the name of
the great Druid god, Hesus, be joined with the Eastern Saviour-god,
Krishna (Krishna is Sanskrit for Christ), and thus Hesus Krishna would
be the official name of the new Roman god. A vote was taken and
it was with a majority show of hands (161 votes to 157) that both
divinities became one God. Following longstanding heathen custom,
Constantine used the official gathering and the Roman apotheosis decree
to legally deify two deities as one, and did so by democratic
consent. It was extended a bit further in the Second Council to
include the life of Mithra. Thus, a new god was proclaimed and
"officially" ratified by Constantine (Acta Concilii Nicaeni, circa
325.) Most scholors place the writing of the four gospels at
circa 300 A. D. Coincidence?
The purely
political act of deification effectively and legally placed Hesus,
Krishna and Mithra among the Roman gods as one individual
composite. That abstraction lent Earthly existence to amalgamated
doctrines for the Empire's new religion; and because there was no
letter "J" in alphabets until around the ninth century, the name
subsequently transmogrified into "Jesus Christ." It was a long
way from the Council of Nicaea to Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson, but
they’re similar in the reflections of corrupt power using and
manipulating religion for its own particularly perverted, demented and
considerably less than charitable purposes.
Perhaps the hard
core fundamentalist Christianist were most astonished because the
incident between Scudder and Armstrong was far more spectacular, but it
was too close to home. There were too many unanswered
questions. Even though they rationalized the secrecy and the spin
of information had always been a prime element of a fascist regime, it
was still difficult for them to understand. Nothing made
sense. There were rumors the Temple Guard who allegedly killed
Scudder was taken before a firing squad without a trial, only to
be rescued at the last minute by the same angels who brought the Holy
Prophet back to life. But why? The pieces didn’t fit
together. If the stories were true, why would angels rescue the
Holy Prophet’s killer? If Scudder was truly God’s Holy Prophet
wouldn’t God’s angels condemn such violence and allow the would-be
assassin to be punished? What about the
concepts the fundamentalist or American Taliban held so dear of an eye
for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and every family should own at least
one cocksucker for a slave? Surely there must be no truth to
these rumors, or was there? Was there more to the story they
weren’t being told? There was enough doubt the implementation of
Scudder’s plans took longer than anyone imagined.
Things were even
more tenuous among the Temple Guards and the Holy City Police
department. The Military Police, whom Scudder ordered to conduct
the execution of Brick Armstrong, were equally divided about Scudder’s
purpose and divinity. They were personal eye witnesses to their
brother officer being saved from sure death by two radiant beings who
proceeded to punish their religious leader by removing his male parts
and replacing them with female parts. Added to their feelings of
inadequacy was their frustration because they weren’t allowed to
intervene and were helpless to do anything about it. Their guns
were rendered useless, and even though Scudder ordered them to take
action, they instinctively knew better than to use physical
force. They didn’t want their own male tackle mysteriously
removed or replaced. After all, it’s where the major thought
processes for most men of their ilk originate. They saw it as an
act of biblical proportions in which the symbolism was clear. A
large percentage interpreted the angel’s actions as in favor of Officer
Armstrong and disapproval of the Holy Prophet.
There were
heated debates within the ranks of all society about Jeremiah Scudder’s
place in history— if he was or was not the Anti-Christ as prophesied in
the Old Testament? There was enough discontentment and unanswered
questions in the minds of some Temple Guards and Military Police, they
were easily swayed to cooperate with the underground opposition.
What better persuasion than to have Brick Armstrong and his mate, Tim
Kelly, appear before them to explain what Scudder and Taycious did to
Tim which so enraged Brick to take action. Brick and Tim were
able to provide videos of the highlights. For many of the men it
sickened them, and only confirmed their long held suspicions about
their not-so-holy prophet and his sidekick.
The neo-cons
weren’t the only ones who could play the spin game. Lazarus and
Jesse, with the help of the Buttercup’s artificial intelligence, had
Brick and Tim dressed in long, flowing, white robes with special
lighting
effects to produce an aura of other-worldliness about them as they
appeared to the men in holographic form. On such occasions they
could see and talk with Officer Armstrong and his partner Tim, but they
couldn’t touch them. They appeared changed. They were
radiant like they might imagine angels to be. Brick had
been working out regularly to improve his body to its maximum potential
and was coaching Tim to develop his body. They worked out and
encouraged anyone who might want to learn to take advantage of their
coaching. Many did, from freemen to slaves and even a couple of
critters joined them. They were bronzed from the West Texas sun
and looked fit and relaxed. They were living their dream and
found their own bliss with their roles within a new, unusual but sane,
more gentle society. They were happy and satisfied with each
other, and it
showed. Lazarus and Jesse coached Brick and Tim to speak slowly
and softly like they passed over into another dimension. It was
effective and the men in protection and law enforcement were convinced
they were witnessing spiritual apparitions rather than technical.
* * * * * * *
Many questions
arose within the Grange communities who knew of Lazarus and his
mission. They knew of the close bond and alliance which was
formed between Jesse Watkins and the Grange. Lazarus
was
questioned many times about who Jesse Watkins was and what he was all
about. Lazarus insisted all would be revealed before much longer,
but he would leave all explanations to Jesse. He would explain
what he knew and what was going on with the government, and
particularly with the so called Holy Prophet and his political advisor.
Since their arrival,
Jesse and Utah never ventured far from their association with the
Grange, the Goodnight ranches or the small town of Parsons on the
Bandersnatch, where they were frequently found in the company of Lyle
Chambers, Strom, Blue and his Shushonni friends, Dr. Stevens, Arnie, or
at the Lazy B ranch with Jack Hall, Buck and Warren. Because of
their powers, Jesse and Utah were sought after to heal or give someone
advice. They were generous with their time and gifts; however,
among the laid-back folks living in the on-board communities, they
could relax and be themselves. They wandered the Earth for
centuries together and never found a place they could call home.
Parsons became that place for them.
* * * * * * *
Jeremiah Scudder
slowly began to learn to use the extra powers he was inadvertently
given by
Jesse when he and Utah resurrected him. He discovered he had
limited seeing capabilities to foretell the future in varying degrees;
however, it had its limits. He could only see into the future a
day or two at a time, but he could predict the outcome of people’s
actions. He found he had a much higher developed
sense of organization. He could plan his future, the future of
the country and even the fate of the world within a year’s
period. He somehow understood he was given the ability to become
the first man to become ruler of the world and unite everyone under one
religion and government. The thought of such absolute power
became a heady intoxicant for him.
The big
corporations who ruined a great democracy by putting Bush and then
Scudder into power found themselves being threatened by the monster
their wealth created. They failed to heed the wisdom of
history. The same thing occurred in Germany in the early
thirties. With his new powers, Scudder saw he didn’t need them as
much as they needed him. He sat them down and quietly, but
boldly,
told them he was now in charge. He was not only the new leader of
the U.S., he would be the new leader of the world, and as an added
bonus, he would also be their new undisputed spiritual leader.
They would bow down and worship him. He insisted it was only
right, since God declared him as divine as Jesus by resurrecting
him. In fact, God told him he was the new embodiment of Christ
who had returned to save the world. God told him he would rule
for a thousand years. Those who got on board with his program
would survive; those who did not would perish.
He made himself
CEO of all major corporations and utilities including oil
companies. If they wanted to continue to operate and live in the
luxury unto which they were accustomed, they would play ball and give
him
everything he wanted; if they tried to oppose him, they would be
eradicated and all their wealth would become property of the
state. Scudder made it clear, they would still be allowed to run
their corporations; however, his people would move into their
businesses and monitor them closely. There would no longer be
such huge disparages between salaries of the working class and the
executive class. With Austin Taycious’ input, Jerry Scudder saw
that he had to start pumping up the middle-class who had been so
trampled for too long. He had to make it easier for them to keep
them from rising up in total rebellion. Austin was right.
The way to keep the middle-class happy was to eliminate any worry for
them to have a home, a big SUV and a pickup truck, a fine entertainment
system, free education for their kids, health care, their mega-churches
and cheap
beer.
In Bush’s
criminal regime, salaries, bonuses and benefits to executive CEO’s rose
five to six hundred percent more than the average worker. Those
excesses would be split between salaries and benefits for the worker
and tithes to the government, but the executives would still be
compensated comfortably for their work. They should look upon
their contributions as tithes to helping their fellow man, God and his
new son for his great work. Scudder made quick work in cancelling
all the lavish and obscene tax cuts his predecessor had given the
rich. Naturally, they went along. They had no other choice
and furthermore they had to have a chip implanted along with all the
rest. There were few exemptions. Only the Holy Prophet and
Austin Taycious would not have chips.
For some reason,
for all his guff and being a constant thorn in his side, Jeremiah
Scudder needed Austin Taycious. No matter how far afield Jerry
Scudder chose to indulge himself within his own personal fantasy world,
Austin Taycious was always there to bring him down to Earth. To
Austin’s credit he came up with a progressive plan to equalize the
nation and the world. Austin was a much more creative thinker
than his friend and protector. He foresaw Scudder’s chance to go
down in history as a great redeemer of the Earth; something, not even
Jesus could rightfully claim until the final cards were dealt.
Jesus of the bible only taught and made vacuous promises which for
over two-thousand years never seemed to materialize. To some it
seemed
ludicrous. Even the author or authors of the gospels thought
Christ would
return in their lifetimes. How long should any society hold on to
a dream that
never seems to materialize?
Austin appealed
to Scudder’s vanity. “Look, mein kumquat, you have an opportunity
no other man in history has ever had. You have a chance to unite
the world under one religion and become a great and benevolent
leader. You can do away with the problems of illegal immigration
the corporations fostered on you and Bush. You can seize all the
oil in the world, but you can go further than that. You can bring
to the public the knowledge of zero-point energy. It’s been
around for close to a hundred years since we learned about it from back
engineering alien space craft in the fifties. Look how much we
learned from them; lasers; integrated circuits; fiber optics;
anti-gravity; zero-point power modules; spandex and velcro; just to
name a few.
The only way
you’re going to have a thousand years of peace is to do away with all
religions except the one you want folks to follow. Think it can’t
be done? Think again, buckwheat. What do you think the
early fathers of the Christian church did when they were forming their
new religion? The Roman Catholic Church claimed everything that
threatened their dogma was heretical and were swift to squash any
dissent. They had almost two thousand years of bloody murdering
and savage torture against anyone who dissented or preached a better
way. They wiped out the true meaning of Christ’s message which
many felt was more adequately expressed by the Gnostics and the
Cathars. The Cathars were the only group who actually tried to
live their lives in a Christ-like manner. They renounced all
material possessions and went about healing and comforting the poor and
those about to die. They became as family to their
believers. They were slaughtered by the Catholic church for
trying to live their lives as close to the teachings of Christ as
possible. The early church continued its reign of terror until
Luther refused to indulge himself and went on his diet of worms to
protest." Austin was not always fully well-read on certain
topics as he might have been. Since Scudder was less well-read
than Taycious, Austin bluffed his way through and continued without
pause,
"It’s time the
parasitic practices and dogma of the Roman Catholic
Church be excised from society. The billions being contributed to
them every day would best be kept in the pockets of the poor to feed
and sustain them than the vulgar opulence and greed of the
church. Invade the Vatican and do away with all the early Roman
church records. That way, there’s nothing to fall back on to
dispute your word. Claim your investigations into the suppression
of important Christian documents by the early church were found and
there was a totally new Gospel found among them which contradicts the
main four from which one can only surmise, at least three of them were
forgeries or copied from the original; set down, not by early apostles
of the church, but by the founders of the early Roman church under
Constantine.
Do away with the
writings of Paul as apocryphal. Condemn his condemnation of
homosexuals. He was a zealot Jew for cries sake. He was
originally a Greek, Apolonius, who was a convert to orthodox
Judaism. Recovering addicts and religious converts are the
absolute worst fanatics. Then he suffered a miraculous conversion
to Christianity and became fanatical about his new religion. A
double convert doesn’t say much for his stability let alone his
teachings. With two strikes against him, he spouted as gospel
what he learned from the old testament without much thought as to how
it might effect the new religion he was creating, which wasn’t
Christianity at all. It became known by scholars as
Paulism. Many of the early church fathers were strongly against
including the letters and teachings of Paul. They considered him
a provocateur. He was known as Paul the heretic. Jerry, you
can rewrite the new testament incorporating the best things from all
religions of the world. Do away with the
Koran and the old testament of the bible. The Muslims and Jews
will go crazy for a while, but within two generations they will come to
accept the New Testament. Them commom folks gotta' have something
to believe in bigger than their miserable little lives. It's in
their blood. Let’s write a newer Testament.
You have the power to do it, Jerry. Once you’re undisputed ruler
of the world you can do or say anything, and it will become law.
And for God's sake, expose them damnable Mormans for the fraudulant
insanity they preach. It's been proven Joseph Smith founded a
religion based on a science fiction novel he plagerized from another
author. The entire religion was launched on the idea if you
repeat a
lie long enough and enough times, sooner or later you will get some
fools to believe you. Sounds very much like the old Republican
party spin, don't it? Mormans always made the best conservative
Republicans. If they could be made to believe the hogwash of
Joseph Smith they would believe anything the Republicans told
them." Taycious laughed. He continued,
"Whether it's
true or not, how Christians
could ever continue to follow the old testament after the message of
Christ is beyond me. The two are simply incompatible. It’s
like the message from two different deities. If the unintelligent
masses just have to have something to believe in to make them happy and
keep them in their place, make religion better than it was. Do
what Constantine did with the Council of Nicaea. Hell fire and
damnation! If Constantine and Joseph Smith can get away with it,
I know you can. Make up your own
god and savior to worship, only do it better. Do it right this
time. Give the poor and uneducated a bigger and better pile of
bones
to gnaw on. Distract them from the evil of pressing their
religious beliefs on gays and pregnant women or those who don’t chose
to believe anything. Make room for everybody. Do away with
prejudice and injustice found
throughout the bible. Don’t give anyone ammunition to hate
anybody. Don’t worry about them becoming wise and doing away with
your power. As long as the government tells them they’re good and
patriotic you can get away with anything and they won’t care.
They’ll be too damn busy thanking you, praising the lord and singing
hymns
you approve.
Since early
times, you’re the first man to have it within your power to change the
world for the better, Jerry. Since you are to be seen as the
great leveler in society, don’t allow slavery other than for punishment
of major crimes. If someone becomes a slave for a period of time,
let it be for the period of time specified and not allow some
unscrupulous master to trump up charges against him to extend his
period of servitude. Cut back on destroying the rainforest and
get folks interested in preserving the nature and wildlife of the
Earth. Stop the Japanese and Taiwanese from insisting on
decimating the whale populations by false scientific studies which are
only a ruse for killing and selling. There is no necessity for
whale meat or byproducts in today’s world. They’re at the top of
the food chain and as their numbers diminish so does the strength of
the ecosystem. Come down hard on countries who refuse to
cooperate until they cease altogether. Rebuild the natural
resources of our planet. Get countries united in eco-building and
conservation. Make the deserts bloom and rebuild the
rainforests. You can create limitless numbers of jobs that way.
Take care of the
starving and homeless. Provide decent health care for all
citizens. Make it such that there is a rising middle class in
third world countries and not such a disparaging financial separation
between classes. The obscene wealth of the corporate class must
come to an end. It’s either that or the poor will eventually rise
up and crush them. Anarchy will reign. Become the second
coming of Christ, Jerry; not only in name but in deeds and
actions. Show the world you have an equal side of strength and
mercy. I’ll bet if you did, you could call on that angel to
return your manhood to you.
How much money
do you want, Jerry? How much do you really need? Is there a
point a man reaches when he decides he has enough, he’s comfortable,
and lets someone else suck from the money-tit for a while? We’ve
become an overpopulated world, Jerry. It’s inconceivable good
Christian folks would allow the killing in our corporate trumped-up
wars and the genocidal wars going on in Africa and South America to
continue with little interest and insist unborn children need their
protection. That’s just wrong! It’s blatant
hypocrisy. They don’t have the right to impose their religious
beliefs on anyone, either through coercion or legislation. Let
them proselytize all they want. That, of course, won’t include
you. If you be the man, you call the shots. Besides, there
has to be a limit to population growth somewhere. If the far
right doesn’t want abortions then they shouldn’t have one, but leave
others alone to make their own choices. It’s none of their
business what another person chooses to do in any situation. It’s
insanity for them to think they should have that right to legislate and
force their beliefs on everyone in a society that prides itself on
being free. The far right is no better than the Muslim Taliban.
Our resources
and the world itself can’t sustain much more population growth
anyway. There has to come a time where population growth is
greatly scaled back or we won’t make it into the next century. If
you should live that long, you won’t have a world to rule. I
believe in the world as a living organism. It’s an intelligence
unto itself. The dinosaurs evolved and flourished because they
had few natural predators. They became too large and too
many. The carbon dioxide from their breathing, mega-farts, and
waste brought on another ice age which killed most of them. They
became too much for the planet to support, and it killed them. So
it will be with mankind. Mother Earth, Gaia, or whatever you
choose to call it will simply begin to shut down until such time when
that which is offensive to her will no longer be a threat. Then,
after thousands of years, she will begin to recover and start again;
only next time, it will be without man.” Austin went on and on
and Jerry instructed him to write something up he could go by.
Give him a blueprint or an outline of what he proposed.
“I don’t know
how I could’ve ever been so stupid to believe in all that religious
crap. After preaching a pot-boiler sermon like I used to, I'd
have to go in and shower for an hour to feel really clean. It was
like I was slinging shit and getting it all over me. I used to
think to myself as I was reaching a dramatic climax in my sermon,
'Are these fools really so stupid to believe all of this
garbage.'
But I would look out into the audience and never once saw a look of
doubt on any face,--- except once. One little girl was sitting by
herself on the front row. She was very prim and proper. She
couldn't have been more than six years old. She had a wicked
scowl on her face
like she wasn't buying any of my nonsense, and as I made a call for
prayer I
heard her mutter under her breath, "He's so full of shit!" I was
laughing
so hard I couldn't get myself together to pray. I had to ask my
associate pastor to lead us in prayer." Scudder and Taycious
shared a laugh.
“Ah, come on,
Jerry. What the hell are
you talking about? It was your ticket to power.”
“Yeah, I know,
but something happened to me that was outside my understanding of
religion and my relationship with it. It was weird, because when
I died my consciousness left my body, but I could see everything.
It was like I was a conscious entity separate and outside my physical
body, but I knew it was the core ‘me.’ I could see Brick
Armstrong standing over me with the gun still smoking in his
hand. He had a horrible look on his face; a look I can only
describe as one of hate and loathing. I’ve never seen that
before. He was like a demon. He even looked demonic.
Then these creatures of darkness gathered around me. They seemed
to be waiting just outside my field of vision. I couldn’t see
them clearly, but I knew they were there. They wanted my
soul. I knew they were
waiting to take me away.
“Where?” asked
Austin.
“I don’t know,
but I got the feeling it wasn’t a good place. I didn’t see any
bright light or tunnel to go through. There wasn’t anyone waiting
for me to show me the way; just these dark creatures who sent shivers
up my spine. Things began to get dark and I could see their red,
glowing eyes looking out at me through the void, and I could feel them
moving about anxious to come for me. I yelled and hollered at
them to go away to no avail; they just kept coming. They dragged
me kicking and screaming to an even darker place, a place of great
despair. It had a heaviness about it that I could feel and
taste. It was an awful place. Everything was grey or black;
there was no color at all. I looked around and saw we were on the
banks of a deep, dark river. We were waiting; for what, I didn’t
know. I just knew we were waiting for something. The dark
creatures surrounded me and wouldn’t let me move. It was like
they knew something I didn’t and for the moment were content to just
wait. I don’t remember how long we waited, but after a while
there came a big barge out of the dark mist. It came from the
opposite side of the river and was being rowed by more of the dark
critters. At the bow was a large, dark figure of a man dressed in
a long black robe with a black hood pulled low over his head. I
couldn’t see his features, but I knew he wasn’t human. I could
see a greenish cast to his skin and his eyes had same red glow as the
smaller critters. When the barge landed, he didn’t move. He
slowly raised his right arm and pointed a green, scaly, boney finger at
me and spoke.
“What’d he say,
Jerry?”
“You have
cheated death this time, but you won’t a second time. You are to
be returned to the land of the living. Take him away!” he
ordered the dark creatures. They took me back to a place I could
be closer to my body. I saw myself lying on a cold, metal
mortician’s table. I couldn’t see how I was going to live with a
huge chunk of my head and brains blown away. I heard voices and
saw the mortician talking with two radiant beings. They were
beautiful and made the dark creatures cower in fear of them. They
looked like how you might imagine angels to appear. They told the
mortician to stand back, they were going to put my head back together,
and they would resurrect me. There was a huge flash of light, I
felt myself being pulled back into my body, and suddenly, I was alive
again. I hurt like hell for a while. Ain’t never had my
head hurt that bad. It was like the worst hangover you ever had,
but it soon went away, and I was fine.
“Do you think
they were angels, Jerry?”
“Naw, they were
humanoid creatures just like you’n me. The younger one didn’t
seem to be comfortable in human form. I got the feeling he was
another kind of creature only appearing as a human. He was
different somehow but familiar. I know I’d met his kind before,
but I couldn’t remember where. The older one was an old
hand. He knew what he was doing, but he seemed to need something
from the younger one; like he couldn’t do the job alone. The
younger one gave him what he needed and together they brought me back
to life. There weren’t nothing spiritual or holy about it.
It was like an act of nature to them; like they could do that sort of
thing because they had the knowledge and power.
The dark
creatures were real critters of some sort from another dimension. They
might’ve been what we consider demonic; however, they weren’t no
Devils. They were humanoid as well. So was the dude on the
barge wearing the black robe and hood. I think the two angels
might be a superhuman race who have been dealing with humans for
centuries. For what purpose, I can only guess. Needless to
say, I was glad to be back among the living, but I got me a gut feeling
we ain’t seen the last of them two men or them dark critters. The
whole experience woke me up to what life and death is really all
about. There ain't a damn thing holy or sacred about it.
Death is nothing more than a part and function of life. It's part
of our biological nature. We're hard-wired to live for a certain
period of time on this planet then die. Where our energy goes
from there is the mysterious part, but it ain't unknowable. I'm
learning more everyday about things. That man told me I'd find
out I had some new abilities. I'm slowly beginning to understand
what he meant."
“Jerry, you’ve
been through a lot. How are you coming with your new plumbing?”
“I hate to have
to squat to piss, but I’m git’n used to it. Getting fucked is a
totally new experience, but it feels a lot better’n I thought it
would. Remember Dumbo Jones?” Scudder laughed.
“Yeah, the
dumbest man in the corps with them huge ears. You wanted to get
rid of him, but he became somewhat of a mascot to the corps. I
hear he has one of the best singing voices in the corps. They
banded together to request you to reconsider and keep him on.”
“Yeah, they
did. Glad I listened to them. Dumbo has a huge member on
him and an enormous set of balls. What he lacks in intelligence
he makes up for in pure animal magnetism and lust. He will fuck
anything with a hole that lies still long enough. He gives me the
best fuckings I ever had. Larissa Mae Woolcott, that black maid
we
got working here swore to me the biggest, dumbest men always give the
best fucks. She claims it’s ‘cause they ain't gotta' lotta’ room
up there for thinking about more’n one thing at a time and when they
get their minds set, they can only focus on the job at hand.
After several rounds with Dumbo I gotta’ agree with her. He’s
like a damn dynamo; a fucking machine. He don’t never slow down
even after I shoot my load and tell him to get his. I’m thinking
about taking him on as a consort. A June wedding might be
nice.” Scudder roared with laughter. Austin cringed but
laughed, too.
“Why not?
If you got it— if feels good— do it! I’m sure Dumbo would be
pleased.”
“The best or
worst part is, I’ve developed some affection for him. He ain’t so
stupid. He’s just simple and childlike. I’ve grown as
protective of him as the men of the Corps. He’s more loyal that
an old hound-dog and very affectionate.”
“Wait a
minute! I thought you were using Delbert Hawkins for your
frolicking.”
“I have. I
still do. I like old Del. I keep him and a couple more
warming up in the bull pen at all times. I like a little variety
now and then, but Dumbo Jones has become my favorite,— my
regular. I feel so comfortable with him and he treats me like . .
.”
“A lady?” Austin
roared with laughter. Scudder scowled at him and then
laughed.
“Exactly!” he
replied defiantly. “Ah, hell! What the fuck! Even the most
macho men need a little tenderness now and then.”
“Then, I take it
Dumbo Jones won’t be a candidate for the Holy Order?”
“Not very damn
likely.” Scudder sneered. “I’d weep buckets if he elected to get
that handsome dick and balls of his removed. I won’t allow
it. He serves the pleasure of the Holy Prophet for Christ’s
sake. Sometimes it’s good to be da’ king.” Scudder laughed.
“The king?”
Austin leered.
“Don’t push it,
Gertrude!” Scudder glared at him then continued talking about
Officer Jones, “I’ve made him cutback on his shots and pills; however,
I might make a new rank for him and several others who have been
faithful to me. Sort of a cream of the elite. I already
done promoted Officer Hawkins to Commander.” Scudder paused for a
moment, “You wanna’ see something funny?” he asked.
“Sure.”
replied Austin. Scudder hit a button on his intercom and spoke to
the voice that answered, “Send in Jones— au natural.”
“Right away,
your holiness.” the voice replied. Within minutes a
buffed bodybuilder, naked as the day he was born, was standing at
attention before Scudder and Austin.
“You’re looking
good today, Officer Jones.” Jerry allowed.
“Thank you, your
holiness, Sir.”
“Remember what I
taught you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Jones spoke crisply.
“I’m proud of
you and I wanna’ show you off to my second in command, here, Mr.
Taycious. You are not to be embarrassed or feel humiliated in any
way— understand, Jones?”
“Yes, Sir.
Thank you, Sir.”
Scudder snapped
his fingers and Dumbo Jones’ male member sprang to a full salute
immediately. Austin had never seen a man’s penis get so aroused
so quickly. Scudder chuckled. “Good, Jones! Well
done, Son!” Scudder complimented the big man with the large
ears. “Go on— feel it.” Scudder motioned to Austin, “He
won’t care. He know’s his holy prophet is happy with him.
You won’t believe it. It’s rock hard.” Scudder spoke of
Jones like he was a beloved pet. Austin walked over to Jones who
was still at attention and felt his massive member.
“Unbelievable,
and quite handsome, too. You’re a fine specimen of a man,
Jones. I hear you’re also a fine officer and a great blessing to
our holy prophet.” Austin smiled as he commented and gently felt
the big man’s balls as well.
“Thank you,
Sir. I try hard to be.” replied Jones. Scudder turned
away and coughed in his hand to keep from laughing. Austin
couldn’t help himself and broke up giggling.
“And you do very
well.” allowed Austin.
“You all right,
Jones?” Scudder asked with concern.
“Yes, Sir, your
holiness.”
“A little horny
this afternoon?” Jerry asked.
“Always, for
you, Sir.”
“You won’t mind
if Mr. Taycious pays a little homage to your fine tool will you, Son?”
“Oh, no Sir,
your holiness. Not at all. Whatever I can do for you.”
“That’s sweet of
you, Officer Jones. I won’t forget your willingness to be so
giving of yourself. Go on, brother.” Scudder urged
Taycious, “Chow down. He’s got the sweetest tasting load.
Tastes a little like a vanilla custard tart.”
“Mmmm, I love
custard tarts.” Austin gushed as he fell to his knees to worship
at Dumbo Jones’ holy shrine.
“Let him who
gives also receive.” Jerry said under his breath as he smiled to
himself and turned to finish some work at his desk. It wasn’t
long before he heard Austin choking down a huge load from Officer
Jones. Jerry watched as the young man took on an ethereal glow
with an unsurpassed look of ecstasy on his face. He lost all
control of his salivary glands and spittle drooled out each corner of
his mouth as the threw back his head and moaned deeply in his own
private moment of passion.
* * * * * * *
Brett “Dumbo”
Jones had several talents which compensated for his homely looks.
He had a magnificent baritone voice, with which, he could sing the
angels to tears. Mere mortals, even those with tin ears, were
known to have a case of the vapors upon hearing the sweetness of his
voice. He never had any formal musical training, but was soon
recognized around the Holy Temple to be one of their foremost vocal
talents. He could be taught any song from plain chant to operatic
arias in a matter of hours and had the uncanny ability to sing it
perfectly each time he repeated it. He was one of the main voices
in the morning and evening vespers the Temple Guards participated in
every day. They performed their service completely nude and there
was never an empty seat for their services.
That afternoon,
after his visit with the Holy Prophet and his advisor, Officer Brett
Jones was in particularly fine voice. Unfortunately, he was so
inspired he couldn’t lose his erection. This caused much
consternation among the other guards because they were not unlike pack
animals. What happened to one influenced the rest. Several,
especially those who had been ordered to cut back on the steroids and
shots, got sympathetic erections and they looked like a band of wooden
soldiers. That wasn’t seen as a great problem because strange
things like that happened all the time. It was great fun and
cause for amusement among the audience, but the men acted like it was
par for the course and part of their physical nature. They were
right, but it certainly did make the audience more attentive to the
service.
That particular
afternoon something beyond the normal happened. Dumbo Jones was
walking just in front of his Commander Delbert Hawkins. The men
began singing the first several stanzas of their usual Vesper’s plain
chant introit before walking the length of the chapel to their seats in
the choir. As they began their processional walk, they took no
more than a handful of steps, when Officer Jones began to rise from the
floor. Everyone continued singing, but those closest to him
stopped to watch him rise above their heads and slowly float to the
front over the heads of his fellow officers. The congregation was
in awe and Jones’ fellow officers were nonplused; they simply didn’t
know what to think.
To make matters
worse, when he came to the alter, he slowly turned and rose even higher
into the air until he was almost at the apex of the building. All
this time he was still singing the plain chant introit and his fellow
officers, unable to explain their actions, sang with even more
enthusiasm. As he hung in midair a stunned silence came over the
audience as he opened his arms in a gesture to embrace them all in the
love he felt for them. He then stretched his arms out fully,
threw back his head in the ecstasy of his song and looked for all the
world like the crucified Christ. His spirit seemed to radiate
from his body and every person there, including his fellow officers
felt his love for them penetrating their being like highly sharpened,
finely-tuned, emotional swords. It was at once as healing as it
was provocatively erotic almost to the point of orgasm. A few in
the audience soiled their clothes. A couple of his brothers
dropped their loads on the chapel floor. The other officers
stopped and gathered in front of the alter and ceased their introit to
the choir.
The singing
stopped but Jones was still suspended in midair. Commander
Hawkins stepped forward, raised his hands toward Jones and spoke in a
commanding voice, “Come to me, my son!” He stood there with
his arms outstretched waiting. Slowly, Jones began to descend
until his commander grabbed him into his arms, pulled him tightly into
a loving embraced and held him as they both sobbed. It was a
terribly moving moment to all who witnessed. The other officers
placed their arms and hands upon the two men. Jones comforted his
commander and the audience went crazy applauding. They didn’t
know if this was part of a magic act or if it was for real, but they
were impressed. Delbert Hawkins got himself together.
“Are you all
right, Son?” he asked quietly of Jones.
“I think so,
Sir. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I
never done nothing like that before.” Jones apologized.
“Nonsense,
boy! What you did was a natural response to your faith, but we
have a service to attend to. Will you be all right to continue?”
“I think so,
Sir.” Jones replied.
Officer Hawkins
gave the order to proceed to the choir and the men filed into their
appointed seats. The service went as planned; however, Officer
Jones was to sing a solo as an offertory. There was a hush came
over the chapel unlike any before. Every man, woman, child and
officer held their breath. No one had any idea what to
expect. Officer Jones stood, the organ started and Jones began to
sing. No more than eight bars into his song he started to rise
off the floor again. Hawkins and another officer on his other
side grabbed for him, but they were too late. Jones was airborne.
With a full
erection, he rose above the alter and was in full view of the audience
and his fellow officers as he sang his song. He stretched out his
arms and crossed his feet and the audience gasped as they watched
stigmatas form in Jones’ hands and on his feet. A wound opened on
his left side and blood gently flowed from the opening. The
congregation and his fellow officers watched in awe and horror as the
blood began to drip from his wounds to the floor of the chapel.
Once again he radiated his love and the audience not only heard but
felt his goodness and strength. Several claimed to be instantly
healed by his song. He was amazing to behold. He was not a
handsome man by any stretch of the imagination, but his body was
perfection. One just didn’t look above the neck. When he
was done, many in the audience and several of his brother officers had
fainted. Those still conscious stood in unison to applaud him and
watched as his wounds miraculously healed as he slowly lowered back to
the choir. Hawkins and the other officer helped him to his
seat. Hawkins patted him on his leg and complemented him on his
solo.
“I’m sorry, Sir.
I don’t seem to be able to control it.” Jones was almost in
tears.
“Enough,
boy! You done fine! Nothing to worry about. Impressed
the shit out of me!” Hawkins confirmed and smiled at
him. As the service progressed someone slipped Hawkins a
golden rope that once held the Christian flag to its base.
Hawkins smiled and nodded his understanding. He leaned over and
attached the rope to Jones’ ankle. Jones knew what it was for and
smiled at his commander.
The service came
to an end and the officers rose to begin their exit. They again
began a plain chant as a postlude. The audience was prepared and
only a few gasped as Officer Jones began to rise from the floor.
This time his commander grabbed the golden rope and held on as Jones
floated by above their heads. Delbert Hawkins could maneuver
Jones to stay in the same approximate position as he would walk.
The audience approved and quietly applauded Hawkins as he walked by
with his tethered brother in tow. Hawkins began to mischievously
daydream, if, by some miracle of fate Jones was to become pontiff,
would he affectionately become known as the beloved Pope on a
rope.
Needless to say,
Jones was an overnight sensation. He performed flawlessly at
every service and numerous folks claimed to be healed by his singing
and the radiant light which came from his body. Others came
forward to dip their fingers in his blood from the floor of the alter
and applied it to their infirm bodies. Many were instantly
healed. The chapel was booked months in advance and there was
standing room only at every service. The Holy Prophet and his
associate witnessed Jones’ miracle many times. Austin was more
convinced than ever this should be a sign for Jerry Scudder to
understand the goodness that was available to him, and to convince him
he had the power to change the world for the better.
Until Jones
learned to control his gift, he had many problems. He was one of
the designated cook’s helpers to keep the army of Holy Temple Guards
fed. He was more diligent in his duties than all his fellow
helpers combined. His newfound talent became a detriment to him
in his day to day chores. He would be kneading bread or doing
some mundane chore and slowly he would begin to get an erection.
At the same time he would begin to rise from the floor. Unless
one of his fellow cooks or helpers were around to hold him down until
his urge passed, he would be suspended at the ceiling until someone
could get him down. They tried weights tied to his ankle but it
would only rise with him into the air as if it contained no mass.
One might think
such an unusual talent might corrupt a person. Perhaps it might a
lesser man or even greater man; however, Brett Jones was a simple man,—
a man of deep faith and convictions but little intellect to reason
beyond the innate goodness of his own spirit and the belief in the
divinity of his own soul. He was the culmination of the great
myth which began with Adam. He was the first of many of a new
generation who were beginning to shun the material world and become
whole within themselves. Their greatest hope was, intellect and
wisdom would come with
experience and age. Living, loving and giving to those less
fortunate than themselves was the mainstay of this new
generation. It became their Alpha and Omega,— their beginning and
their end,— their reason for being. Jones had many other doors to
unlock and open he could only dream about. Belief systems and
religion only acted like the mythical Dumbo’s feather. The little
pachyderm with the big ears always had the ability to fly. He
only needed the feather for a crutch for his natural– some might say--
god-given talents. So it was with Jones and his ilk. They
needed their faith to get off the ground. Once they were
airborne, they quickly shed their superstitions and began to understand
their place in the universe. Their place was far greater than
ever dreamed of in the philosophy of any religion. When man
begins to believe in himself and his own innate goodness and begins to
shun superstition,— only then will he truly become closer to God.
* * * * * * *
“And what of
this man who is the de facto consort of the Holy Prophet? What of
his
ability to levitate, produce stigmatas, and heal the sick with his
songs? We’ve seen him on TV and what he does is pretty
remarkable. Is he for real?” Many of the Grange and several
of the critters wanted to know. They asked these questions of
Jesse Watkins, his faithful companion Utah, and Lazarus Long.
Fortunately Chief Tin Penny was standing there with an amused look on
his face.
“Would you like
to take that question, Chief?” Jesse smiled.
“Certainly, my
brother. Levitation ain’t nothing new. Every person here is
capable of it. You have greater control over your surroundings
than you are presently aware of or capable of understanding.
Birds fly because they know they can. Once they take to the air,
there’s never any doubt. I’ve watched braves take to the air in
the height of passion from their dance and return to their mother Earth
without remembering the experience. When I tell them, they laugh
at me as an old man imagining things and accuse me of planting false
dreams in their heads. Then one day, in the middle of their
dance, they awaken in midair and fall to the ground with an even
greater awakening. They don’t laugh no more.” grinned the old
Chief wickedly.
“We can do
it! We can do it!” yelled Adam and Eve, the Evanescent children
of Sonny and Vivian Steele.
“Show them, my
children.” Chief Tin Penny encouraged them as he took his drum
and slowly started to beat out a slow hypnotic rhythm. He started
singing a wonderful chant the children quickly picked up and started
swaying to and fro. The chief was joined in his singing by
several of his tribe including Little Bear.
“Now do the bear
dance I taught you. Remember?” The Chief urged the children.
“We remember,
grandfather.” They smiled and started dancing. As they
danced, the folks of the Grange who were gathered watched in awe as the
two children danced around in an ever widening circle and slowly began
to leave the ground until they were dancing freely above their heads in
the evening sunset. The crowd was in awe and few dared to
breath. Their other granddad Warren had a huge grin on his face
as he waved to encourage them.
“Come,
grandfather! Come dance with us!” They called to him.
Warren looked at the old Chief, and he nodded his approval.
Warren
shucked off his cowboy boots and began to dance the same steps as his
adopted grandchildren were dancing. They reached down and each
took one of his hands. Warren hadn’t taken more than a few steps
when he began to rise with them. Still he continued his dance
with his grandchildren.
“See,
granddad! See how much nicer it is up here.” They
teased. Warren was smiling from ear to ear. Sonny and
Vivian Steele were beside themselves. Jack Hall and Buck were
laughing their ass’s off. Poor Horse didn’t know what to
think. His mate was already showing from his pregnancy. He
was concerned for his Bairn as well as his mate.
“Can he do it on
his own?” Sonny challenged his adopted kids.
“Of course he
can, dad. He’s our gram-pa, ain'nee?” They laughed and let
go of Warren’s hands. Warren didn’t stumble or sink an
inch. He just put more into his dance and rose even higher into
the
air.
“How does that
Disney song go, honey?” Sonny turned to Vivian, “I done seen about
ever’ thing when I seen an elephant fly.” Laughed Sonny. Vivian
poked him in the ribs.
“Leave your dad
alone, cowboy. At least he’s got the nerve to try. Knowing
you, it won’t be long before those two have you up there dancing off
into the sunset with them.”
“Come on,
dad! Take our hand. We’ll teach you.” they begged Sonny.
“Not this time,
kids. Later when there ain’t so many folks around to laugh at me
when I fall on my big cowboy butt.” he laughed and the children laughed
with him. They danced over to him and proceeded to meld together
and run down onto him into his arms and surrounded him with their love.
“How does that
feel, Sonny?” Sheriff Lassiter asked him.
“Like you’re
encased in a love cocoon. Like you never want them to let you
go. C’mon kids, let daddy go and resume your natural shape.
You need to help that old man down from his sky-dancing afore he misses
a step and busts his boney old butt.” The children reformed as
quickly as they melded onto him and raced to take their granddad’s hand
and lead him back to Earth. Chief Tin Penny finished his song and
everyone applauded.
“But that only
answered part of our questions.” complained several of the folks.
“Officer Jones
is for real.” stated Jesse. “He can do the things they say he can
do. He is living proof, amid such potential evil and wrong-doing,
truth and goodness will find a way to exist. It’s like scientists
have found life can exist under very harsh circumstances. For
centuries they believed life could only begin and develop within a
narrow parameter of well defined prime conditions. Now they know
differently. They found a plethora of life in the darkness at the
bottom of the ocean living among the volcanic smokers erupting on the
ocean floor. Down there life thrives on hydrogen-sulfide gas
which would be poisonous to most things on the surface. So it is
with goodness and grace.
Officer Jones is
but one of many who will be discovering they have capabilities they
never dreamed of. They aren’t all in the Holy City. Many
are in the determent camps healing the sick and helping the depressed
to live another day. They are capable of rising up and leaving
the camps, but they don’t because they have a greater calling to those
they would have to leave behind. Some have learned to make
themselves invisible, just like several of our cowboys and a number of
the braves can do. Our Chief can make himself invisible.
Most of our Lummox brothers can disappear in an instant and reappear
when it suits them. We’re learning the Evanescent children can do
it to. Go ahead, kids. Show them.” Jesse urged.
The children
seemed to vanish into nothing except you could see a light trail of
particles like fine dust floating on the air— like dust dancing in the
beams of sunlight in a closed room. Jesse stretched out his arm
and motioned for the dust to come to him. It instantly moved in
his direction and formed around his body.
“You’re right,
Sonny. There are no other words to describe the feeling except
they become a love cocoon.” Jesse chuckled. “You kids
comfortable?” he asked. “Yes, Master Jesse.” everyone
heard their reply out of thin air. “Okay, now reform and go sit in your
granddad’s lap. He looks like he needs some loving right
now. Have you visited your younger brother who’s growing inside
him?”
“Naw, Sir.
But we’d like to.” said Adam.
“I’m sure he’d
let you if you asked him nicely.” Jesse encouraged
them. The children
reformed and sat in their granddad’s lap. He wasn’t so sure he
wanted them inside him, but after Jesse insisted they wouldn’t hurt him
he let one at a time go inside him and commune with their new little
brother. Horse was sitting close to Warren with his huge arm
around him. He watched as the little boy dissolved into the air
and allowed himself to be sucked into Warren’s body through his
lungs. The little girl dissolved and quickly moved into Horse’s
waiting pouch. She tickled him as she partially reformed to be
about the size of a new bairn. Horse’s breast immediately began
to engorge with nourishing lummox milk. The thought came to
him how was he going to get rid of the extra milk? A small voice
came from his pouch into his mind.
<< May we
have some, Mr. Horse? >> Lummox rarely laugh out loud, but Horse
bellowed his merriment.
<< Of
course, little one. You and your brother may have all you
desire.
It would be an honor. >> He heard a small giggle in his
head followed by,
<< Thank
you, Sir. >>
* * * * * * *
“I don’t know
what’s wrong with him, your holiness, he won’t tell me.”
Commander Del Hawkins responded to the Holy Prophet’s question.
He was standing at ease in his formal in-house uniform. He looked
very military and professional.
“He’s refused to
come to me.” Scudder stated with some irritation, “I didn’t want him to
come for a frolic. I wanted to speak with him about what was
going on. I hear he’s stopped eating and refuses to get out of
bed. Is that right?”
“More than that,
Sir. He refuses to go to his job, and he ain’t attended a service
in a week. The people are about to storm the Holy City.
They’re out there on the sidewalks with posters wanting to know about
their Jones. We keep telling them he’s ill but they don’t believe
it. They see the kids going in to visit with him and coming out
healed. The only thing he will do is see the sick children.
He’s still healing them and once in a while he’ll see an older person,
but the more healing he does the weaker he gets. It’s like he’s
being drained, but there’s nothing to replenish his strength. He
ain’t eating. Other than you, I’m about the closest to him, and
I’ve watched his growth since his first time in the chapel. I’ve
seen rays of light come from all around him filling him with its
strength and power every time he has an experience. I ain’t got
no idea where it comes from, but I know, beyond a doubt, he needs
it. Since he’s stopped going to chapel he ain’t git’n it no
more.”
“I know. I
know. I’m getting all kinds of pressure. I’m about to go
nuts. He’s been my biggest draw lately and my approval ratings at
the polls have shot through the roof. Precious is about to have
me lynched. I can take a lot, but when that fuck’n queen starts
in
on me with her tongue I want to find the nearest damn lock-box and
close the door behind me. What can I do?” Jerry looked at
Del and asked in a pleading voice.
“Please, Sir . .
. go to him. Excuse my bluntness, your holiness, but fuck
protocol. If you love him, go to him. I know he loves
you. He needs you right now. Maybe you can reassure him or
find out what’s eating him. For the last six months we’ve had
record attendance at our services, and I can’t tell you the money we
take in from offerings. It’s obscene. He never seems to
tire and sees everyone who needs his blessing. It’s just like
he’s shut down.” Jerry Scudder had never seen the big man who
stood before him breakdown before, but Del Hawkins put his face in his
hands and began to sob. Scudder went to him and put his arms
around him.
“There, there,
Son. I know you. You done your best by him. Maybe
you’re right. Take me to him. It’s time Mohammad went to
the mountain. Besides, I been missing him. His schedule is
more busy than mine, and I don’t get to see him that often any
more. Truth is, I’ve come to need him more than he needs
me. After we’ve been together I’m ready to take on the world.”
Scudder walked
to the Holy Temple infirmary with his arm locked tightly around Del
Hawkin’s huge shoulders. They moved Officer Jones from his shared
room with his Commanding Officer into a private hospital
room. When the men arrived Del told Scudder to go in
alone. He would stand guard with his other man outside the
room. He assured them they would not be disturbed. He let
Jerry in and closed the door behind them. Scudder looked and saw
his consort lying in bed with his eyes closed. Jones only had a
light sheet thrown over him and Scudder could see he was rock
hard. He must have been having an erotic dream because there was
a huge wet spot all around the head of his enormous penis.
Scudder felt his pussy become wet with anticipation. God, how he
wanted to run to him, throw the sheet off him and impale himself on the
man’s wonderful shaft. His Dumbo brought him such happiness so
many times, just the smell of the man’s male musk could make his cunt
start to drip.
Scudder quietly
undressed. He was proud of himself. He was working out and
had gone from a size thirty-four waist to a respectable thirty inches
and had been bulking up with weights. After he started seeing
Jones regularly, he wanted to be more attractive for him. ‘Vanity
thy name is man,’ he thought to himself and remembered one of the
Psalms of David. ‘Vanity, vanity, all is vanity.’ He walked
from one side of the bed to the other. He was naked as he turned
down the lights in the room to a soft glow. He gently crawled in
beside the huge man he had come to love and appreciate so much in such
a short period of time. Jones didn’t awaken, but moved
comfortably into Scudder’s arms. Scudder reached down and
directed his engorged penis into his man-cunt. He slowly but
surely pulled Jones into his hot and lusting body. He put his
arms around the officer and kissed him gently. Jones eyes
opened. His face changed from worried frown to a gentle smile.
“No one fits me
like you do, Sir.” Jones said quietly. “It’s nice to wake
inside you and in your arms. You do love me.” Jones allowed.
“I came to you,
didn’t I? Of course I love you. What man, woman, child or
animal wouldn’t love you? There is nothing in you that’s not to
love. You lay love at my feet everyday. You are the only
source of unconditional love I’ve experienced in years other than my
brotherly love for Austin Taycious, but I love you differently. I
have to love you like you are. You have become an icon of love,
not only for me but for thousands of people who flock to see you do
wonders and perform miracles of healing. You should be the holy
prophet, not me. I’m just a would be backwoods hell-fire,
damnation, two-bit bible-thump’n preacher who learned a few tricks
about administration and politics. I’m only real when I have you
and Taycious to make me believe I can be real; that I can be more and
rise above where I came from.”
“No, you are my
Holy Prophet. I wouldn’t be here; I wouldn’t have my powers if’n
it weren’t for you, Sir. I’m nothing more than a simple man who
has no ambitions to be more than what I am.”
“I know, and
that’s why I love you so much. You never question me about why I
need you. It’s enough for you to know I do. Do you feel
strong enough to take from me what you need and give me what I need.”
“I’m sure I can,
Sir. Let me show you how much I love you.”
Jones started to
fuck Jerry’s small, tight cunt. Scudder couldn’t have been more
ready. He was hotter than a two dollar pistol. Jones didn’t
just do his macho manly thing of taking Jerry and fucking him for old
glory, mother, home, country and apple pie— he took his time and with
every stroke made Jerry’s pussy sing a new song. Jones fucked the
smaller man like Joshua Bell plays his Strad. He was getting
feelings and sounds from Scudder no one ever heard before.
Scudder was being driven to distraction when something felt very
strange.
“What’s
happening? What the hell?” Scudder exclaimed as he looked
into Jones’ eyes. He never noticed Brett’s eyes before.
They were beautiful pools of liquid amber. They flashed with
passion and a light he’d never seen before. “My God, are we
floating in the air?” Scudder asked softly.
“Shuuuu,. .
.” Brett silenced him and gently kissed him on his lips. “I
thought it might be more comfortable for you. Not to worry.
I’ll take care of both of us.” Jones reassured him. Jerry
Scudder just went limp like he surrender his last vestige of control
over to his consort. Scudder gently grabbed Dumbo’s huge ears,
one in each hand, and pulled his face to his in a passionate
kiss. That’s all Dumbo Jones needed. He began to fuck
Scudder like Jones knew he liked and like he enjoyed fucking him.
They worked together building to a huge climax and were both yelling
and screaming like banshees. Del Hawkins had no idea what the
hell was going on and rushed into the room to find his Holy Prophet and
his subordinate officer suspended in midair six feet off the floor
fucking like two minks in rut. He grinned, tipped his hat to
Scudder, turned and left the room. Scudder got his climax the
same time Jones got his. They lay hooked together in the air for
a good while. Jones slowly lowered them to their feet, but they
stood hooked together making sweet love.
“That was fuck’n
fantastic, Officer Jones. The very best you’ve fucked me—
ever.” Jerry whispered to his consort.
“You say that
every time I fuck you, Sir.” Jones smiled and blushed. “You
were wonderful, Sir. I couldn’t have done it without you.
Did I hurt you?”
“Are you
kidding? Lord no! Not in the least. That had to be
one of the best feelings of my life. It was like what I imagine a
true religious experience should be. Since I ain’t never really
had one I wouldn’t know, but you would.”
“I can’t believe
my Holy Prophet ain’t never had a real religious experience. You
just did. That’s what a religious experience should feel
like. In the scheme of things it’s the only time a man is truly
allowed to see the face of God is when he ejaculates. Same with a
women or I suppose a man with a cunt. I ain’t no expert there.”
“We’ll if that’s
what a religious experience feels like I’m going to church more
often.” Scudder joked with Jones. “Come, let’s move to the
bed— no, don’t withdraw. Let’s lie together this way for a while
and talk.”
Jones
two-stepped his Holy Prophet to the edge of the hospital bed and gently
laid him back and crawled on top of him. He repositioned himself
so he was fully inside Scudder.
“Don’t that damn
thing ever go soft?” Jerry asked with a chuckle.
“Not when I’m
with you, Sir.”
“Officer Jones,
while we’re lying here in this intimate position I want you to tell
your Holy Father what’s happening to you. Why are you acting the
way you been doing? You have a world of folks from every country
upset and concerned about you. Have you seen the news on
television? Have you read a newspaper lately?”
“Naw, Sir.”
“There’s nothing
else on the tube or in the papers. Our country wants to know
what’s wrong with their National hero— their young, fine looking Temple
Guard who has become so popular. Won’t you tell me, Son?”
“Please,
Sir. I don’t want to get no one into trouble.”
“You let me be
the judge of that. You won’t get anyone into trouble by telling
me the truth. I promise you.”
“They’re selling
my blood, Sir.” he said quietly.
“Who? I
know it can’t be Commander Hawkins or any of the Temple Guards.”
“Naw, Sir.
They’s ma’ brothers. They wouldn’t do nothing like that.
Commander Hawkins don’t know nothing about it. It’s the preacher
and his cronies. It used to be they’d let anyone use it to heal
themselves. Now, they pick it up and sell it on the black market
for hundreds of thousands of dollars. I just think what I give
freely from myself— no man has the right to profit from. So I
just stopped. I gave up. What they’re doing just ain’t
right, Sir.”
“Them unholy
son’s of bitches! I’ll say it ain’t right. Will you trust
me to get to the bottom of this and take care of it for you, Son?”
“You know I
will, Sir.”
“Will you
promise me you’ll start eating again and cut out some of your healing
until you’ve healed some yourself.” Scudder asked sincerely.
“Yes, Sir, I
promise.”
“Good! I’m
gonna’ put you under the strict personal care of Commander
Hawkins. He ain’t gonna’ be assigned any other duties but to look
after you until you’re better. You do as he says. I will
personally review any and everything the doctors and whatever he wants
to do for you. I won’t allow them to overdo or rush you
along. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Holy
Father. Thank you, Sir.”
They lay
together making more love and talking quietly. Jerry had never
been more relaxed or felt better in his life, but his consort seemed to
be fading in strength.
“You’re
weak. That took a lot out of you.” Jerry said with concern.
“Yes, Sir, but
you came to me. You needed me, and I wanted it to be special for
you.”
“Don’t worry
about that. It was wonderful. I ain’t never been fucked in
free-fall before. It’s a good thing you’re so large we didn’t
have to worry about re-entry.” Scudder laughed at his own joke.
Jones even got that one and laughed. They made a little more love
and Scudder never felt more fulfilled. Suddenly Jones lunged
into Scudder hard like he was spearing him with his sword, he shuddered
several times and Jerry could feel the big man ejaculating again inside
him. It was so erotic Jerry had a deep, internal climax of his
own. He lay there gasping, but he sensed something wasn’t
right. Jones wasn’t moving.
“Officer
Jones? Brett? What’s going on?” Scudder yelled to the big
man as he gently shook him. Jones didn’t respond. He was so
big Jerry couldn’t move him off of him. He yelled for Hawkins and
the other guard. They rushed into the room.
“Hawkins!
You and Krause lift him off me. I think he’s fainted.”
“Naw, Sir.
He ain’t breathing. He’s turning blue.” said Hawkins as he
motioned for the other guard to help him. Together, they rolled
Jones on his side and Scudder managed to let him slip out. He
grabbed a robe from the closet and ran to the hall.
“Get a doctor in
here, now! On the double. We have a man who ain’t
breathing.”
A couple of
nurses, an orderly and an intern rushed into the room and had Jones
vitals in a second. It was worse than Hawkins thought.
Jones’ heart stopped. The young intern was joined by one of the
best staff physicians and they proceeded to use the paddles on Jones to
start his heart beating again. They tried everything they could
to no avail. Scudder and his officers watched in horror as they
could see everything the doctors were trying didn’t seem to be
working. Scudder couldn’t believe when the main doctor turned to
him and shook his head.
“I’m sorry,
Sir. He’s gone. We can’t resuscitate him.”
“No, no!
There has to be something you can do. Open him up! I watch
House on television. House would never just give up.”
A second doctor
who joined them and tried himself several times confirmed the other
doctor’s findings.
“What do you
want us to do with his body?” One of the interns asked quietly.
“Nothing!
Absolutely nothing! Leave him be for right now until I’ve had
time to think. He stays right in that bed. Get him cleaned
up and clean sheets on his bed. You may have given up on him, but
I sure as hell ain’t; not by a long shot. Nurses and orderlies
get him cleaned up. Officers, you stay with me. The rest of
you incompetent son’s of bitches— get the fuck out!” Scudder
screamed at the top of his lungs. Everyone left except two nurses
and one orderly. With the help of the two officers, they
transferred Jones’ body to a Gurney, changed his bed and bathed
him. They returned him to the bed when they were finished, and
the orderly pulled the sheet over his head.
“No!
Adjust the sheet to make it look like he’s sleeping. He may be
dead to you folks, but he ain’t dead to me. I ain’t giving up on
him that easily. He’s the only damn thing in my life what’s meant
more to me than any of my own selfish ambitions. I won’t let him
go without a fight. I will sell my very soul to the Devil himself
if I must to bring him back to me.” The hospital
staff looked at him like he was insane, but Scudder stood his ground
and gave them a look that dared them to say otherwise. "Thank you
for your work. Now, get out! Leave us alone!
Commander
Hawkins, you stay with me.”
“Yes, your
holiness.” Commander Hawkins replied.
“Not a word of
this is to get out to the public until I’m ready to announce it.
Is that clear?” Scudder barked to the nursing staff.
“Yes,
Sir.” They quietly demurred.
“Officer Krause,
you go with them and make damn sure the others who were in the room are
notified this is to be kept quiet until I say so. Understand,
Son?”
“It will be
done, you holiness.” Krauss left with
the nursing staff. Delbert Hawkins instinctively moved to take
Jerry into his arms. Scudder couldn’t hold back any longer and
began to sob his heart out. Hawkins couldn’t be strong and they
stood there wailing together in their grief trying to comfort each
other as best they could.
“We can’t wait a
second longer, Sir.” choked out Hawkins. “We have to ask. If
you’re think’n what I think you’re think’n, we have to do it now.”
“Right you are,
Son. Let’s hit our knees.” The men dropped to their knees
still holding each other.
“Would you ask,
Del? I don’t think I’m worthy enough to ask for this.
You’re a good man, Hawkins, and if anyone’s prayer will be heard, I
know yours will be. I just feel it. It’s something I can’t
explain, but I know it.”
“Of course, Sir,
but I think you underestimate yourself. I think I can understand
because of your love for Jones”
“Exactly.”
Commander
Delbert Hawkins began to pray and asked for the radiant angels who
saved the Holy Prophet to come to them and save one of their finest and
most beloved Temple Guards. Ms. Myra was monitoring Del Hawkins’
robo-cams and immediately sent a message to Cable. Cable sent
David and Jonathan through the gates to the Lazy B ranch on the
Buttercup where Jesse and Utah were spending a quiet afternoon with
Jack Hall, Buck, Warren, Horse, and all the critters. When they
heard the news they followed them back to the Bandersnatch and were
immediately transported by the receiver on Del Hawkins’ robo-cam.
In a bright flash of light they appeared instantly in the room except
Jesse didn’t have time to change clothes or Utah’s appearance.
“We are
here.” Jesse spoke quietly. Del Hawkins smiled and
nodded. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see them. Jerry
wondered about that. Jerry, himself, was visibly shaken by their
sudden appearance. The main angel, as was Jerry’s frame of
reference, was dressed as a brown-dirt cowboy, complete with hat and
boots. He looked like a saddle tramp with a three day growth of
beard stubble. Next to him was the most beautiful Collie dog
Scudder ever saw. Despite Utah’s appearance as a dog, Scudder
knew, without a doubt, he was the second angel.
“Ah, ha! I
knew he weren’t no human.” he pointed to the Collie dog sitting
next to the big, fine looking cowboy who stood before him.
“We didn’t come
to discuss my companion’s physical appearance, Norman. He can be
anything
I want him to be. He can be anything he wishes himself to
be. He prefers to appear as you see him now. On certain,
more formal occasions, I have him appear as a human. Now,— the
reason you summoned us?” Jesse asked like he was a bit miffed at
Scudder’s shallowness.
“I’m sorry,
Sir.” Scudder was contrite with the cowboy. “I don’t know your
names.” Jesse looked down at Utah and nodded.
“I’m called Utah
and my master is known as Jesse.”
Commander
Hawkins grinned, but once again, Scudder was shaken because the dog
spoke to him.
“Goo– good to
meet cha.’ Please, Sirs, can you bring my officer back to
life. He means so much to me and his fellow officers. He’s
grown to be one of the most beloved, popular and trusted men on our
planet. It would be such a loss for our world not to have him in
it. I’m begging you, please. I’m ready to offer anything I
am or have to bargain to have him back again.”
“Have you fallen
in love with this man?” Jesse asked him bluntly.
“Yes, Sir.
I won’t lie to you. He’s the only person I’ve ever loved more
than myself, or my associate whom I love like a brother. No,—
make that like a sister.” Scudder was serious, but Utah giggled.
Hawkins laughed at Utah’s response.
“Then are we to
assume you don’t wish us to return your male genitalia to you?”
Scudder was
quiet for sometime. “It don’t seem necessary as long as I have
Officer Jones by my side, Sir."
“Were you
serious about what you told Commander Hawkins and the nursing staff a
little earlier? Would you make a pact with the Devil to bring him
back?”
Scudder was
quiet for another moment. “Most assuredly, I would! I meant
every word of it, Sir, — even if it means
only having one more
day with him. I swear to you, I would eat the corn
out of the Devil’s
shit to the eternal damnation of my immortal soul if I could have Jones
back with me. The future looks far too bleak for me without the
ray of sunshine his life brings to mine. He loves me
unconditionally and asked nothing of me but to need him and love him as
much as I can. A week, a month, a year or several years of
happiness with him would be worth it to me; whatever I can git. I
may never be able
to tell him just how much I love him, but perhaps by my words I can
declare it to you and the universe. Hell, to be honest, I never
really understood just how much I do love him until I said those words
and can see his lifeless body lying there.”
“He’s got it
bad, Master. Now you know how I feel about you.” Utah
looked up at Jesse and grinned. Jesse smiled at his companion,
reached down and patted him.
“I ain’t never
had me no doubts, friend.” Jesse said quietly but loud enough
Hawkins and Scudder could hear their exchange. It was like he
wanted them to hear it. Jesse made a mental note to himself, they
had to stop hanging around cowboys so much. He and Utah were
forgetting how to speak proper English. Utah assured him it was
proper where they were. Jesse had to agree with him. It was
a language of comfort and belonging. It was the language of a
place where they felt comfortable,— a place they could call home.
“And will you
forgive Officer Armstrong for killing you? Will you offer him and
his mate your blessing.” Jesse challenged Scudder. Scudder
was almost blown away by his question. Commander Hawkins turned
his head away and coughed in his hand to keep from laughing.
“I make a solemn
vow before you and the Commanding Officer of my Temple Guards I do
hereby forgive Officer Brick Armstrong and offer my sincerest blessing
to him and his mate Timmy. I will gladly repeat my vow in person
to him and Timmy. To go one step further, after much
consideration of what me and my advisor done to little Tim, I can
understand Armstrong’s anger and his hate. We damaged someone he
loved and held dear to himself. If he had done the same to
Officer Jones, I would very probably exact the same price from him.”
“Good
enough! We will have to take Officer Jones with us. We
can’t fully repair him here.”
“How is it you
were able to immediately repair me? Why didn’t you need more
time?” challenged Scudder.
“You wanna’ take
that one, buddy?” Jesse grinned at Utah.
“Good question,
Mr. Scudder, but it wouldn’t be if you knew and understood the dynamics
of time and space, and the ability to freeze frame a moment in time
like you might edit a video; snip a bit here, move it to another time
and place and insert it there. If you know what’s gonna’ happen
before hand, it’s a relatively simple procedure. We knew in
advance there was a better than ninety percent chance Officer Armstrong
was going to shoot you. There was a ten percent chance if you
kept your mouth shut he wouldn't have shot you, but we all
know how that worked out. We had plenty of time to extract the
information we needed to repair you. We simply stopped time, cut
out the information a nanosecond before he shot you, and reinserted it
as you were lying on the mortuary slab. Simple. We didn’t
expect this happening to Officer Jones. We knew he wasn’t doing
his regular thing; however, we never considered he’d drop dead from a
massive brain hemorrhage.”
“Brain
hemorrhage? Them doctors told us he had a coronary. No
wonder they couldn’t bring him around.” mused Commander Hawkins.
“I’m gonna’ fire
all them damn incompetent quacks!” Scudder fumed.
“Not to
worry. With your help we can bring him back around for you to say
goodbye. Then we must immediately take our leave before he
expires again. Each time will make it harder to bring him around—
so make your goodbyes short.”
“That’s more
than I could hope for, Sir. I will be eternally grateful.”
“Even if I were
to tell you we sent this man for you and gave him his extraordinary
powers to teach you a lesson in humility and grace?”
“Even then, . .
.” Scudder’s voice trailed off as he broke down in Officer
Hawkins’ arms.
“Good! No
time for tears, Norman. Gather around him, gentlemen.
Commander, take my hand. Scudder, you and Utah stand on the
other side. Utah?” Jesse spoke to his companion.
“As you wish,
Master.” Utah humbly replied and the two men watched as the
beautiful dog transformed into an even more handsome, nude man.”
“We didn’t have
time for him to grab a set of clothes.” Jesse smiled.
Utah quickly
moved to the other side of the bed and took Commander Hawkins’ hand
across. He took Jerry Scudder’s hand in his other and Jesse
reached across to take Jerry’s hand in his. Jerry was impressed
the man's hand was rough and callosed from hard work. Jesse
closed his eyes
and began to pray.
“Voices of our
Ancient fathers, hear our prayer. Restore this good man to us so
we may repair him and make him whole again. His death is untimely
in the scheme of a greater continuation. He has more to
accomplish before he joins you and his brethren. His growth will
enhance us all. He is a rare force in this universe and we need
him.”
Suddenly,
Scudder’s eyes grew larger as he looked across at Del Hawkins.
Something wasn’t right here. Hawkins should be registering as
much awe and astonishment as he was, yet he seemed cool, calm and
collected. He even had a smug smile on his face like he’d seen
this before— like he’d been a part of something like this or he knew
what these men could do.
Scudder looked through the bright, near blinding light to see Officer
Brett Jones’ eyes begin to flutter and finally open. Jesse told
them to let go of their hands and the light immediately subsided.
Jones was trying to speak. Tears formed in his eyes and ran down
his cheek.
“Why did you
bring me back, Sir? I was okay. I was fine. I was in
a wonderful place. I saw your pain. I didn’t want to leave
you and the Commander but it was such a beautiful place, but then, they
told me I had to come back.”
“I brought you
back out of selfishness, Officer Jones. I asked that you be
brought back for me. I lied when I said it was for all our
world. It was for the others who love you, but mostly for
me. I can’t contemplate a future without you. Now you
must go with these men and become well again. Then you may return
to me, but I promise all will be better when you return. Your
blood will never again be sold for money.” Scudder turned to Del
as if to ask if he had something to tell Jones.
“I love you,
little brother, and I’ll be here waiting for you to return. Come
home to us. We need you.”
“I’m sorry, we
must go now. We’ll be in touch. We will keep you updated.”
said Jesse firmly. He took Jones’ hand. Utah took his other
and joined hands across the bed with Jesse. There was another
blinding flash of light. The two men and Officer Brett Jones were
gone. Once again, Scudder collapsed in Commander Hawkins’ big
arms and sobbed his heart out. Del was strong for his leader and
tried to consoled him.
“It’s gonna’ be
fine. He’s gonna’ be all right, you’ll see. Trust me.
Trust Jesse and Utah.”
Scudder got
himself together and was quiet for a moment. There was just
something in the way Hawkins said the names of the two men that made
Jerry think– no, he knew– his guard was familiar with these men.
“You know them,
don’t you, Commander? You know who they are and where they come
from.”
The Commander
didn’t answer, but Jerry Scudder didn’t push the matter. He
didn’t really want an answer. He didn’t want to have his
suspicions confirmed. Whatever his Commander knew, Scudder knew
it didn’t threaten him. His greatest fear was realized in that
moment. His greatest fear was of himself and his inability to
hold on to goodness when he found it. Jones and Hawkins were good
men. He would simply let them be. He thought it might be
possible to kill goodness with too much understanding. He was
determined to learn to exercise his ten percent option.
End of Chapter
44 ~ Waco’s Lummox
Copyright 2007 ~
Waddie Greywolf
All rights
reserved~
Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com
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