And
the woman
was made
well
from that
hour.
[Matthew 9:22]
***********************
(Sneeze.)
(Cough.)
(Pull a kleenex outta
pocket of old bath robe.)
"PING!"
(Pull mug outta microwave.)
(Stick finger in water.)
(Push mug back inside.)
"BEEP!"
(Blow nose, rather noisily:
it sounds like the screeching
of those zoo monkeys,
that one hears upon arrival
at the zoo, right after
one has gone through the
zoo toll-booth.)
"Heck......I can't even
remember what I had
for DINNER,
last NIGHT."
[LOVING GAZE UPON
SCRUFFY, FRUMPY CHILD STILL
IN THE THROES OF
HER SECOND SPRING COLD.
NOTICE HUGE BOTTLE OF
BACK-TO-NATURE
-1000-MILAGRAMS-VITAMIN-C
SITTING ON THE COUNTER BESIDE HER
MICROWAVE.]
[WISE NOD.]
(Sip tea.)
(Open up another pinky-packet.)
(Shake pinky-packet*
over top of tea brew.)
"You think I should go to
the DOCTOR, THIS MORNING.....
LORD?"
[SILENCE.]
"Is that a 'YES'?
or.....a 'NO'?."
[SILENCE.]
(Whiny, stuffed-up-nose,
West Philadelphia-accented
voice.)
"How COME my
CHRISTIAN FRIENDS
always tell me that
You tell THEM...
... EXACTLY....
what to DO........
and....I get ZIP?"
[CHUCKLE.]
"Is it because......."
(Sneeze!)
(Loud snort.)
"......I'm JEWISH?"
[LOUD BURST OF GENTLE
LAUGHTER FROM THE
RIGHT SIDE OF THE
THRONE.]
[STERM, YET PATIENT
FROWN FROM THE LEFT.]
"Child...you need to pray..."
(Loud, screechy, nasal croak.)
"I AM!**
I AM PRAYIN'!
WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE
I'M DOIN' HERE: OPENIN'
UP A BOX OF FRESH FLOWERS
FROM MY SECRET ADMIRER?"
[SMILE AND NOD,
FROM THE RIGHT THRONE.]
[STERN FROWN.]
(Croaky, screechy whine.)
(Cough.)
"Aw!
Come ON!
I'm SICK, here!
Just gimme a BREAK,
LORD!"
[CONTINUED CHUCKLING
FROM THE RIGHT SIDE
OF THE THRONE.]
[A TURN OF THE HEAD
AND GAZE TO THE RIGHT.]
[SIGH.]
[SHAKE HEAD.]
"What do you wish-
to know,
Mein kin'der."
(Sip more muddy-tea.)
(Grab a tattered tissue
from bathrobe pocket.)
(Sneeze.)
"NEAH......
FORGET it.........
Those CO-PAYS kill me!
I can't sneak PAST that
RECEPTIONIST DESK
without hearing.......
'Oh? Ms............? There's
a CO-PAY, TODAY, of........!"
(Chortle.)
(Cough.)
"Hey, maybe I could send
the BILL to President O'Bama:
he's so into everybody havin'
free HEALTHCARE!"
(Cough.)
"Neah.......he's just got
too much on his plate,
right now: what with the
oil spill, and all. I heard
his daughter, on the news
last night......
even berated him about it.
That's pretty COOL!"
[PATIENTLY LISTENING
TO HALF-ASLEEP-CHILD
STANDING IN HER KITCHEN
SIPPING FROM
A HUGE, THERMAL MUG,
AND PEERING OVER AT THE
DIRTY LITTER BOXES.]
[PATIENT VOICE,
FULL OF SMITTEN LOVE.]
"Where are your
Morning Prayers,
little one."
(Loud honk into a tattered
wad of tissues.)
(Louder snort.)
"I already GAVE YA
ONE! THAT QUESTION:
'BOUT, WHETHER OR NOT
I SHOULD GO TO THE
DOCTOR, BEFORE GOIN' TA'
WORK.....TODAY!
WHAT D'YA THINK
WE BEEN TALKIN' ABOUT?"
[PATIENT SIGH.]
"And,
how should your
Morning Prayers
start,
little one?"
(Talking though another
huge wad of messy tissues.)
(Sniff.)
(Sip some tea.)
(Spill some tea onto
battered blue bathrobe.)
(Cuss.)
(Grab a paper towel: find
out it's from the roll that
has those 'Size 'A Roll'
perforated pieces.)
(Cuss.)
(Cuss again.)
[PATIENTLY WAITING.]
[A MORNING ANGEL
STANDS AT ATTENTION
IN THE THRONE ROOM
DOORWAY. THE ANGEL
IS REALLY BRIGHT AND
CHEERY LOOKING:
CARRYING A HUGE GOLDEN
PLATTER OF SUNNYSIDE
EGGS OVER EASY, A BIT
OF UNLEAVENED TOAST,
A LITTLE POT OF HONEY
(WITH THE BEE STILL FLITTING
AROUND THE POT),
AND A SIDE ORDER
OF REALLY CRISP BACON***.
THERE IS ALSO FRESHLY SQUEEZED
ORANGE JUICE FROM ORANGES
JUST BROUGHT
IN FROM FLORIDA, AND
A LITTLE POT OF PERFECTLY BREWED
ENGLISH-MORNING-TEA.]
[NOD, BECKONING CHEERY,
HAPPY, LITTLE BLOND ANGEL
INTO THE THRONE
ROOM. A COUPLE LITTLE
BLUE BIRDS ARE FLITTING
ABOUT, AS THE ANGEL
KNEELS, HOLDING THE
HUGE PLATTER.]
(Irritable face.)
"What are Ya DOIN'
up There, LORD?"
"I'm listening,
child. Go on."
"I forGET what we
were TALKIN' ABOUT?"
[NOD TO THE CHEERY-
BRIGHT ANGEL WHO'S
JUST SET ALL THE
STEAMING PLATES DOWN
BEFORE THE THRONE.
THERE IS ONLY ONE
SERVING ON EACH PLATE.****]
[NODS AS THE CHEERY
ANGEL KNEELS DOWN
ON A SOFT BLUE VELVET*****
PILLOW, AND BEGINS
TO TOUCH THE CORDS
ON A GUITAR, VERY GENTLY.
TO PLAY A BIG
HARP RIGHT NOW, WOULD
BE TOO MUCH...FOR THE
MORNING.]
"Your prayers,
child."
(Irritable shrug.)
(Nasal, whiny voice.)
"WHAT?
WELL.......!
I'm DONE!
I ASKED You
SOMETHIN'......
and YA DIDN'T
ANSWER ME.........
as USUAL!"
(Set down cooling tea mug.)
"So.......I'm GOIN' BACK TO BED!
DON'T HAVE TO GET UP,
FOR A FEW MORE HOURS!"
(Grab another wad of tissues.)
(Honk.)
[LEAN OVER TO ALLOW
PRETTY LITTLE BRIGHT
YELLOW HONEY BEE TO
HOP ON HIS FINGER.]
[SMILE!]
[IN THE BACKGROUND,
THE PRETTY BRIGHT
ANGEL IS PLAYING
SOFTLY ON THE PLAIN
WOODEN ACCOUSTIC
GUITAR. THE SONG IS
FROM JOHN DENVER'S
'COUNTRY ROADS' ALBUM
FROM 1971.]
"Good child;
rest. I will be
watching over
you."
(Squint irritably up
at the ceiling fan.)
"I thought Ya only
DID that......at NIGHT?"
[SMILE!]
[HOLDING OUT A PIECE OF
CRISPY, VERY WELL-DONE
PIECE OF BACON TO THE
KNEELING ANGEL CRADLING
THE PLAIN WOODEN
ACCOUSTIC GUITAR.]
"No,
My beloved.
You never
leave
My
Sight."
************************
Almost Heaven,
West Virginia,
Blue Ridge Mountains,
Shenandoa River.
Life is old there,
Older than the trees,
Younger than the
mountains,
Blowin like a breeze.
Country roads....
Take me home
To a place
I belong
West Virginia
Mountain mama
Take me home
Country roads.
[John Denver: 1971]
_____________________________
*Third pinky-packet:
The author has an unbelievingly
bad sweet tooth. Unbelievingly,
she still has all her own teeth:
albeit, with a few fillings
here and there....and here.
She's been going to the same
dentist for years: his son
attends the fanciest private
school in San Antonio.`
**Not to be confused
with "I AM." [Exodus 3:14].
***Ever since Acts [10:13],
the Father has given up
being Kosher.
****According the the N.T.,
the Lord Jesus will not
eat again, until the Wedding
Supper of the Lamb.
[Matthew 26:29]
*****The pillow has a stitched
embroidered picture
of little cherubs flyin' about
a pair of love-birds.
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