LOOK BOTH WAYS
8
‘What time does the next bus come?’ He asked of the young teenage boy who peered at him through a wire mesh grill.
‘Three days, man,’ the boy answered, chewing his gum and showing complete indifference.
He smiled politely then turned away, allowing the obese woman, standing behind him, to move forward in the long line of two, waiting.
Outside, the sun shone brightly and some children played in the street. He turned and began walking Deep South. Maybe his home was there? The miles passed idly by, as the sun beat down on him, but he was not hot in his expensive suit of finery. He wondered why anyone would wear a suit while walking to nowhere. Yet, he had no other clothes to call his own.
He smiled, knowing he liked travelling light. The town passed further and further behind, as the dirt on the side of the road moved casually beneath his expensive shoes. He grinned whenever he glanced down and saw how dusty they were.
Traffic had begun passing him, frequently, as soon as he had begun walking, but now had slowed to a trickle. He wished them well in their travels.
He looked up, as he came to a billboard by the side of the road. It was a large billboard, depicting the photo of a man who was running for election. He was holding a baby and kissing it, the mother looking on, smiling.
The time is come, he thought idly, as he began to walk on past—that the son of man be revealed and glorified in living among you. I did not come seeking my own glory, yet there is One who seeks to exalt me. And He is the judge of those who have always rejected me.
He stopped then and turned back to look up at the huge sign, one last time. He wanted to look at the face of the baby. He did then and he smiled, softly.
I was born and came into the world for this purpose, he thought, and then wondered why he thought that—to be a living witness to the truth. And those who love the truth will love me and follow me.
Then he dropped his gaze once more to the ground beneath his feet, as he once again began walking forward to where his home might be. A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step, he smiled. Yet, his feet were not yet tired, after travelling those miles.
A car passed him, not as fast, as had the others. He glanced up, casually, and saw the brake lights flash once, twice, and three times. Then it continued on. He smiled warmly, for it was warm under the hot morning sun. And then he wished them well.
He thought again about the large billboard; of the man and the mother and the baby, showing a seeming image of one united family.
I and my Father are one, too, he smiled. And in his name I have come to you, again, that you might have life, only this time that you might feel and live it.
Off to the sides of the road now was desert. It looked hot and dry. The heat waves shimmered in his gaze, as he watched the far distant horizon. He had come a long way from the town he had awoken in; a long way from the desert he had been in. But it had been a different desert. A small animal ran for its life from a larger one.
He smiled softly, knowing that nature was always perfect and never made mistakes.
Don’t let your heart be troubled or afraid, he thought to the smaller animal that then disappeared from his view. My peace I give to you; a peace for surpassing that which the thinking world is still unable able to give. You will know your own truth and that truth will set you free.
It was hot. He wore no hat to shade his head or face. Yet, he was not burned and wondered why? He should be. He knew that, but he was not. Another car slowed in engine tone, as it passed him by. The rear lights flashed red and remained on, until the vehicle stopped. He paused in his casual gait, then smiled and then walked quickly forward.
‘Are you crazy?’ He heard the woman’s voice asked him, incredulously, before his face had even leaned down to the window. ‘Do you know how far it is to the next town?’
He smiled and shook his head honestly. Then he grinned. At least it wasn’t raining.
‘Aren’t you hot in that suit?’ She asked, with arched eyebrows and smiling eyes that were full of wonder at one such as him she might never have imagined encountering in all her living days.
‘Yes,’ he answered softly, still smiling. And he was hot. He felt the sweat beading and resting on his brow and his face, with his back glued to his shirt, or vice versa. ‘I am.’
‘If you promise to be good and at least give me some sensible conversation, I’ll give you a lift to the next town,’ she smiled, but then it faded. ‘And no funny business. I can take care of myself. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ he grinned gratefully, happy to be getting in out of the hot sun.
Do you believe in the son of man?
He thought idly, as he lowered himself down into the cool seat. He then lost the thought in the refreshing wash of the air conditioner bathing its icy breath of life onto his face and body.
It is He that will speak to you as we talk.
The car accelerated and gently forced him back into the comfortable and cool leather seat in which he rested. He closed his eyes gently and enjoyed the cool silence, while his core temperature lowered itself with the silent passing of the first few miles. Then she spoke.
‘You want to tell me what a man in a business suit, carrying no bags, and not even wearing a hat is planning on doing, walking through the desert for two hundred and seventy miles to the next town?’
She grinned when she finished then glanced over at him, quickly, before once again, returning her gaze to the road, over which they travelled, at high speed.
‘I’m going home,’ he said, as he looked both ways then turned and smiled at her with his answer.
‘Oh,’ she replied. Then, ‘Where’s home?’
‘South,’ he answered without thought and hoped he was right.
‘Okay.’ The woman said. ‘Thought you might have been searching for something out in the desert, like your car that had broken down, maybe?’
Then she returned her concentration to the road and her driving at high speed.
The words that I will speak are not my own, he thought—but come from the Father who has sent me.
Then his brow puzzled as to why he had had that thought.
‘Searching,’ he said softly to himself, but she heard, and he knew that.
‘Yes. Searching,’ she repeated. ‘You know, like finding yourself or something; a mid-life crisis, maybe?’
He smiled softly at the word, “crisis.”
‘No,’ he replied softly. ‘I’m just going home.’
It is you, he thought then—who searches the ancient, prophetic writings because you long to find natural happiness in this life. Yet all the while you testify of me. And yet you hesitate to come to me that you might find the life you are seeking and was destined to have, by right of gender design and birth.
‘Well, you can’t blame me for thinking you might have lost your way,’ she laughed and then added, ‘or be touched in the head from the sun, maybe?’
He laughed with her and nodded his head, in knowing what she had yet to. The cool air conditioner was worth its weight in gold, he decided, as it bathed him from head to toe.
I tell you now I am the way, he thought idly, casually. I am the truth and the life and it is not I who has lost my way. I am not in the desert any longer.
That thought made him smile and shake his head as he looked to the side of the road where all that seemed existing was desert sand. But it was not the same desert, he concluded.
‘Let’s talk about something. Okay? So we both don’t die of boredom,’ she said.
He nodded, knowing the words he would speak are spirit and are life. She began to tell him about herself, at length while he glanced from time to time, at the form of her.
From the top down she had short, close-cropped black hair and a round oval face that was pretty, in its own right. She wore a loose-sleeved white cotton shirt that tucked into a dark and loose pleated skirt that rested, like a large soft leaf of a tree, over her thighs that were slightly spread in her driving position. The car was an automatic, with a large T-bar stick shift in the centre console.
She was an educated woman, she said, and was forty-two years old; a lawyer; on her way to two towns along the road past the next one he would see from his window. Her husband had left her, but it had been she who had instigated the beginnings of things, forcing him to make the final decision to leave.
They had no children. Both were career people. He had wanted children when she had been establishing her career. He was a lawyer, too. They had just outgrown each other, she told him, but she believed that she had outgrown him, in the long run.
He smiled and then didn’t, as the conversation called for it while he sat quietly and comfortably, listening to her life’s story. She had always been the stronger of the two, although wishing, at times, for him to be so, instead of her.
But it never happened. He had always seemed intimidated by her, her success as a woman, and her role in their relationship, in general. Then she glanced across at him when his eyes met hers. Her smile faded.
‘It wasn’t my entire fault, though’ she defended. ‘It would have failed, anyway, in time. I’m not the only one accountable, I know that. But I always seem to feel guilty about the whole thing.’
He nodded his understanding, but he didn’t.
I have not come to judge you or the world, he thought. I have brought dissension and have come to start a fire, and I will guard it, this time, until it rages naturally in all.
His awareness then picked up the instant movement of her thighs, as she stretched her legs in her seat. She tensed and stiffened, lifting her butt upward from the seat and holding the wheel for support. He hoped it didn’t break. Then she widened her knees for a few seconds before returning them, once again, to her normal driving position. Yet, she had seen him look.
He felt no guilt and no shame, but she had seen him look and notice the soft curvature that was clung to, by the soft material of her loose dress.
‘I thought I told you no funny b—’ she began, but immediately was cut short by the sound of a loud cracking noise and the instant smell of something burning. ‘What the—?’
He sat quiet and still in his seat, waiting as she braked and pulled the car quickly over to the side of the road,. Then gradually, she brought it to a complete halt.
‘Damn!’ She cursed and he smiled. ‘I don’t need this shit!’
This time, he thought then—if you reject my words you will be held accountable to your self by your Self. The truth that I will speak will stand as your own Self judge on your very last day. And those words will never pass away.
He got out of the car with her, after she had pulled the bonnet latch. The heat hit him in the face, like a closed fist.
‘Jesus!’ She cursed and sighed at the same time. ‘Now what?’
He walked to the front of the vehicle with her, noticing how quickly she began to sweat in the torrid heat. Her skin glistened shiny in the hot sun. She undid the top button of her light cotton shirt. He saw her do that and knew she had seen him see, but he felt no shame and no guilt.
She reached under the hood and snapped the clip latch then lifted the hot metal bonnet roof upward a little. It travelled the rest of the way upward, by itself, self-assisted. No steam came out from the engine bay. No loud hissing could he hear. There was only hot silence and a strong burning smell.
She leaned over and placed her head beneath the shade of the hood above the hot engine. Her face immediately began to drip sweat onto the vehicle’s head. The thin material of her shirt and skirt clung tightly to her hot flesh, from the instant sweat of the day, into which they had now both come.
She did not see him see, but he felt no guilt and no shame. His shirt clung to him, also, like a second skin. He looked both ways then up at the sky. There was not a cloud in sight.
The shape of her buttocks were clearly shown, almost without a wrinkle from her thin dress as it gripped tightly to her flesh and natural female form, like a second skin. Her butt moved slightly as she shifted her position, in trying to track down the source of the burning smell. The backs of her knees glistened with shining sweat. Her dark skin shined jet black and was shiny.
He felt himself stir to life in the driving heat of the desert and smiled to himself, knowing it was a different desert this time. She was perfect, he thought-absolutely perfect. She backed out from underneath the hood and turned her head to glare at him, but he knew it was not he, at whom she glared.
‘Any ideas?’ She asked him, dryly. ‘Know anything about cars that smell funny?’
He smiled at her slight attempt at humour. It did not even bring the hint of a smile to her own face. He smiled again, though, as he shook his head, which, at least, led her to grin, briefly, because of it.
‘In that case, I need a damn miracle!’ She exclaimed, her frustration full of tone. ‘I don’t suppose you do those, either?’
He shrugged his shoulders, but still smiled softly at her.
You will witness even greater miracles than those you yearn for, he suddenly thought—which you have already seen.
‘I forgot,’ she smiled. ‘You were the one who was going to walk hundreds of miles in the desert, without clothes, food or water.’
He smiled at her smile and felt good for her. Her thin blouse lay open and stuck to the glistening skin of her breasts, the inner of both, shining dark as her skin glistened in the dry heat.
Then suddenly, he felt his own sweat trickling down his lower back. His grin widened then, knowing that it seemed he did not need rain or storm to have drenched underwear.
‘You’re not big on conversation, are you? She stated, matter-of-factly. ‘I don’t even know who you are. God, what a mess!’
No one knows who the son of God is, he thought, as he smiled and felt compassion for her mindset. Then he wondered why he thought that.
And no one can know who the Father is yet he is revealed to me in me. And I am revealed to him in him and those to whom I reveal myself. This time you will know I have come.
‘Wish I knew about cars,’ he said sheepishly, sincere in his statement. ‘I really do.’
‘Aaahh, damn,’ she sighed defeated, while closing the hood slowly down, but then suddenly let go of it. It dropped the remaining distance with a loud bang.
‘Aghhh!’ She cried out loudly, in pain from the burn of the hot metal hood on her hands and fingers.
She bent forward, clasping one hand within the other. Her face contorted in agony. Her tearing eyes pinched shut against her perceived pain and distress. He immediately saddened for her hurt and reached for her shoulder then lowered his hand down upon it.
He felt her body’s searing inner and outer heat, through the flimsy material. She was hot. Her body was hot. He squeezed, gently.
She tensed instantly, then quickly inclined her head upward, toward him while remaining bent, slightly forward, one hand still clasped in the other. Her questioning and suspicious eyes met his and he smiled comfortingly at her. Her gaze was filled even more with suspicion and regarded him, samely.
Slowly, she glanced at her shoulder, upon which his hand still rested lightly. Her thin blouse now lay parted, slightly more so, revealing each shining side of her firm, full breasts. A dark blue brassiere held each full mound in place, against her chest. He saw, and she saw him see, but he felt no shame or guilt.
‘Do you have a first aid kit in the car?’ He asked her.
For a moment, her glaring gaze glazed, as if distracted completely away from what she had been thinking and forced her to bring her full attention back to the present moment of now. Her eyes once again felt the pain of her hand and fingers and pinched quickly shut as she tensed her whole body, again, in her perceived agony. She shook her head.
‘Nnoo!’ She snapped angrily, in her hurt.
He withdrew his hand from her shoulder then turned away from her and looked both ways. Then he glanced briefly skyward, noting how beautiful and clear the day sky was. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply then exhaled very slowly and relaxed.
‘Isn’t there anything you can do?’ She snapped rudely as she leaned her butt back against the hood of the car then abruptly thrust her hips forward and away from the same hot metal, with a loud cry; that same sun-heated metal that had just burned her hands and fingers.
‘Jesus!’ She screamed in pain. Her hands immediately began rubbing her butt.
He stood quietly and watched her, wondering what he could do to ease her obvious pain. He felt helpless, briefly.
‘And I haven’t got any food, either,’ she said defeated, more to herself, than to him. ‘Why couldn’t I have a chosen a damn mechanic to give a lift to? ‘Jesus!’
You have not chosen me, he smiled at her, even though she was not looking at him. This time, I have chosen you and I will feed your soul. You shall not live by bread alone, but by every secret living word that I am.
Without knowing why, he then stepped up to her and quickly took her hands in his, squeezing them firmly together, within his own.
‘Agh!’ She screamed as she struggled to withdraw her hands, but he held her, exactly where he wanted her. Her eyes glared bloody murder at him, from a height when she straightened, at not much shorter than he. She was strong.
‘Let, go! Damn you!’ She demanded and struggled truly, pulling her weight hard away from him, but he held her, exactly where he wanted her and did not release her as she wished.
His gaze met hers with warmth and caring while hers returned salvo after salvo of hatred and promised revenge, at the earliest opportunity afforded her. Then, no longer smiling, he suddenly released her from his iron grip.
‘Ugh!’ She grunted as she flew backward, propelled by her own weight and previous effort, to land hard on her butt, on the dusty ground. Quickly, she rose to her feet and dusted herself off. He could see she was embarrassed by the ungraceful manner in which she fell and landed, but she was also very, very angry.
‘Are you a sadist?’ She shouted menacingly, taking one step toward him. Then she stopped to glare, still dusting herself off.
He could only smile at her and wait until she allowed her female’s natural feeling mind to catch up with her woman’s conditioned thinking mind.
‘You think this is funny?’ She spat at him. ‘Someone in pain and hurt is funny to you? Jesus Christ!
His smile softened slightly, yet still remained noticeable on his lips for her to see.
Don’t you know that you are cared for as much as the birds? He thought compassionately while she came together, slowly again, as one. Stop being afraid. You are still of more value to your Self and to me than the uncounted flocks of sparrows.
‘Why are y—?’ She began then ceased speaking, instantly. Her eyes then dropped to her hands, immediately and then widened as she brought her right hand palm-up, quickly, to her face. She stared hard at where most of her burns once were, only moments ago. Her eyebrows arched high on her forehead as her head began to shake slowly, from side to side.
He felt her joy and smiled softly and was pleased. Soon he would share that joy and take full share of his own she would willingly give. He watched as she rubbed tentatively on the skin where once she pained in agony. Her eyes remained wide. Her eyebrows remained arched in unasked questions as she stood before him. Then slowly, she raised her face to him and stared. She looked beautiful to him then; gleaming black, shining, and beautiful.
‘Can I see?’ He asked, dropping his gaze to her hands, knowing he did not need to see what his male heart had offered her female, ignoring the demands of her thinking woman’s fury.
Slowly, she held out her hands before him. He looked and was pleased then wondered how it happened.
‘What did you do?’ he asked, incredulously.
She looked down at her hands, again. He looked at her, looking at her hands and shaking her head slowly, from side to side.
‘I didn’t—’ she began to whisper then stopped. ‘It was-you did it! When you held me! I could feel them getting hotter! What did you… how did you do—?’
‘Jesus!’ He said. ‘That’s amazing!’
Her eyes remained wide and staring at him. Her lips were parted. Her pink tongue snaked out every now and then to moisten her full deep lips. Then they glistened, too, for a little while.
She was perfect, he smiled at her, silently. Perfect. Then his gaze dropped from her eyes to her breasts and he looked there for several seconds before lifting his eyes to hers, once more. She had seen him see, but he did not feel ashamed or guilty. When his eyes met hers again, there was no anger, there was no hurt. Now, there was only suspicion, but he knew it was a good suspicion.
‘Who are you?’ She almost whispered.
Brothers and sisters have I none, but I am my father’s son, he thought then, without choosing—and that man’s father is my father’s son who is my son of his father. I am with him now and he is with me now. I am never alone; lonely, but never alone. I and my Father are always One.
He shook his head slowly then smiled, softly, at the look on her face. His gaze rested comfortably within her own. He knew she sensed that, in her natural unconditioned female, she no longer felt threatened. Then he wondered where the thoughts he had, came from then lost the thought when she turned to walk back to her side of the car and get back in. Her door remained wide open.
He grinned. Give all to those dead and in need, he thought. Give my Father his due, and give me what is mine. Then his grinned softened into a natural male’s smile.