Short Stories

---

Where am I


I’m confused, nothing unusual about that, but I don’t know how I got here, or where here even is. I’m trying my hardest to reconstruct the events that led me to this place but my recall is indisputably foggy. I remember being caught red handed with the goods I had stolen and hauled off to jail and trial with a jury of my peers, though in honesty my peers would have been just as quick fingered as me. How can they say you’re getting a fair shake if they select citizens that are clean cut! Go figure. Now if they had been my peers, they would have given me a lighter sentence, but in my country death is the penalty. We have zero tolerance for my sort, that is why only the best survived, and I managed pretty well for quite a few years if I’m allowed to blow my own horn. Oh, heck, I’ll blow it anyway. I made a splendid living off the wealth of others. Then I hooked up with a partner. Crime is best performed alone, no weak links. He was a tough dude, no heart whatsoever. At least I cared enough to rob from those that could afford it. He would steal a rattler from a baby. It was actually his fault we were snared. The “babe” he stole from last was an undercover cop with a good set of ….handcuffs; and she knew how to use them. She could actually tie me up anytime.

My memory starts to fade from there. I just know with full assurance that I don’t deserve to be where ever it is I am, where ever this is. It seems to be a nice house, eloquently furnished. People have been walking in and out of this room but I’ve been snoring to throw them off. I won’t be able to keep this up forever; eventually they’ll start trying to rouse me from my nap. Nap. Sleep. Oh, wait, I remember now. They were putting me to sleep. Lethal injection. What happened? Did it fail? They can’t try you twice for the same crime, I don’t think. That’s called double jeopardy. (Every criminal knows the law!)

I opened my eyes and examined my arm. No puncture holes. Hmmm. I stood up slowly to check everything out. I didn’t feel light headed, woozy or unsteady. For professional executioners they really messed this one up, but hey, I’m not going to file any complaints. I inspected the room I was in a little more fully. It wasn’t a jail cell or an intensive care unit. So far so good. It was someone’s bedroom. Nice posh stuff here. Pocketing a few small discreet easily pawned items, I peeked out the door and slipped into the hallway. I needed to get out of here before they discovered their mistake.

People were bustling about a large room, carrying trays of food and beverages. I must be in a subdivision of the United Nations. So many different outfits. Suits, saris, togas, kilts, hoop skirts, buckskins, veils, turbans, stove top and cowboy hats. Maybe this is a costume party. Gee, and I did not bring anything to wear!

I made myself inconspicuous and hunted down the exit.
“I see you decided to rejoin the living.” A voice said from behind me, stopping me in my tracts. I braced myself for trouble but got a tray of dining apparatus instead. These look like real good eating utensils. Solid, not gold plated! The tray was heavy enough. “Bring this to the dining room please; I have other tasks to do.”
“What’s going on here?” I questioned.
“Our owner is due home any minute; we’re getting ready for his return.”
“Your owner?”
“Our owner, he’s yours too, he just purchased you.”
“No one owns me!” I exclaimed and shoved the tray back, not before snatching half a dozen forks (without her even noticing!) They‘ll provide adequately for my needs for several decades, providing I get away successfully.

I gave up being discreet and took long determined strides to the door. No one seemed to care, no one body slammed or cuffed me. There must be and elaborate system on the grounds to prevent escape. As I said before, I know how to stay alive. Doesn’t surviving lethal injection prove something?

An explosion of light greeted me at the door. Wow, this is the best weather I’ve ever set eyes on. What happened to the smog and air pollution? Activity surged through the streets. I quickly blended into the mob. This costume party must be a public event. It isn‘t near Halloween is it? I was in jail so long it’s likely I could have lost tract of the time. Everyone was excited about the return of some dude. They were organizing an enormous bash in his honor. Every one was heading towards the main city gate in parade style with welcome home banners, colorful balloons and confetti. They all sported the same happy faces. I wanted to sucker punch someone just to see if his or her smile was painted on. Every one had a seal on their bodies, some sort of brand. I want to get far away before some one hog ties me and gives me a trademark as if I was personal property!

What a wonderful city, no graffiti or dumps in sight. (Hey, even a thief can have standards!) They have a wonderful city manager. There was an obvious absence of motor vehicles, hence the lack of smog. I wonder how they got around here in the Land of Oz! This place had to be over the rainbow!

Well since everyone was heading east, I think I’ll go west. Not a police officer in sight, unless of course he was dressed up like a Roman guard, there were plenty of them. The revelers seemed organized, however; not rowdy like those at my execution. At that awful event there was a lot of stone throwing, cursing and screaming. The pain was excruciating until the lethal injection put me out of my misery. Yet...something was tickling my memory. What? Something I did...something I said. I've heard of amnesia following traumatic events, that's what I must have. (Yeah, thieves know about medicine also! We’re a pretty smart lot!)

Out side the city limits I picked up speed. There were only a few stragglers here; most of the multitude was at the major entrance scanning the horizon for their "owner's" return. People saw me leaving but no one tried to detain me. Breaking out was effortless, no bars or locks, hunting dogs, or radar. Whomever it was they claimed bought me didn’t get much for his money.

This country was heaven on earth. Where the hell was I? I wish I had my global positioning device. I began jogging down the well-manicured path. My brain was in turmoil. Something was itching my mind. Something I said or did. WHAT!

Up ahead a lone figure came into view walking towards me, or rather the city. I stopped and waited. He was alone, unarmed. I could take him if I had too. Closer. I could make out his features now. A pleasant looking man. He looked kind; the kind that's easy to over come. Closer. Memory flashing, flashing. Words echoed in my head. I was remembering….what.

I hung out with this guy once. I knew him. I met him briefly…where? He was at my execution….a judge? Juror? Cop? No, a criminal. No.

I recalled talking to him, pleading. “Remember me when you come into your….” Into his what? Kingdom! He was an innocent prisoner being put to sleep next to my hapless, unrepentant partner and me!

He was in front of me now, crying and laughing. “I promised you’d be with me in paradise!”
I fell in to his arms and wept like a baby. Me, a thief, saved and redeemed at the last moment.

He heard my pockets jingle and grinned. He explained to me that everything I had swiped in the city belonged to me; I stole from the mansion that had been prepared for me and me alone.

The master had come home, unexpectedly through the back door!

Math 24:42-44
Math 27:44
Luke 23:40-43
John 5:24-29
John 14:1-4
Rom 6:11, 17-23
1 Cor. 6:19-20

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE