Driver, T. C. (15 page)

“The Peach Tree Preserve has shown a thirty-two percent increase in gnat population density since sonic booms were suspended at the International Spaceport just six short years ago. This great work started as a joint effort by the Young Guardians and the ACLU. It is now a textbook model for government grant environmental projects. You can all take pride in being a supporter; a lover of Captain Planet. (I mean of the planet) and one of its smallest creatures.
 
Yes, thank-you good people for your kind human nature and your generous support of the famous 'Peach Tree Preserve'!”

I stared out the window. “I don't see any peaches. Do you, Greg?”

“No, Cornelius” he said. “The peach trees died out when farming and irrigation was outlawed. The Spider gnats eat a natural rotting indigenous cactus now.”

“Spider Gnats, Greg are you kidding?” I asked.

“No, Cornelius. Look at those thick swarms or columns twirling around. That's the peach tree spider gnat!”

I looked down and said “Look at those people down there waving.” Greg and Mike jumped up to look out the window and then quickly sat back down, shaking their heads.

E.B. Cane then blasted over the speaker “These new remote sensors now being dropped by our plane are solar powered and will help us count preserve population more accurately. They were a joint effort by the NAACP and a grant from Madame Secretary's department (applause). These sensors were made entirely by minority, non-Jewish, abused, gay homeless women in North America. Thank-you Madame Secretary (applause). As always, no emergency or manned vehicles are allowed to enter or trespass across the international wilderness preserve. Trespassers do so at their own risk and are breaking the law.”

The two New York Times reporters and TV Katie all sat down near Mike, Greg and I. These gals were non-stop gossip.

“Did you see those people? They had kids and it was so disturbing! He was smoking a cigarette!”

“So was she, Katie! It's not the kids fault!
 
Look at that big old gas burning SUV with a painted back fender!”

“I saw it! And that trailer had no solar cells!”

“My God, he could even have a gun!”

“A gunmen should we call the police? That blue is a Kentucky plate, Katie! Most likely those people are a coal miner's family”

“Not a coal miner? Yuck! Can you even imagine? They are so dirty! I've never even seen one this up close before, I thought Osoma got rid of coal.”

“No. We had protesters working in Kentucky just last month, remember? We showed that horrible confederate flag” on the morning show.

“Yes, we put that flag on the front page!” said one reporter lady.

The other reporter shouted “You go, girl!”

“Wow, a dirty coal miner and redneck gunman that hates Mother Earth and Colored people! ...... The poor colored people can't help it.....”

TV Katie started crying.

“I bet he listens to AM radio and reads the Bible” said Times reporter number two. “Did you know that there are still over 800 AM radio stations; all of them preaching hate? I'm so ashamed of being from the South!”

The other reporter spoke up “I told you Florida is different. Stop apologizing honey! You're not really southern.”

“Osoma can't change everything overnight” said TV Katie. “I wish we could make him king for life! He gives me bumps and chills every time I see him” Her crossed legs began thrashing about uncontrollably.

“Oh, Katie, stop!” said reporter one, rubbing her own leg.

I waved to Mike and pulled him aside. “What are these women talking about?”

“Those people down there waving Cornelius, that Kentucky family. Those people are toast; gnat food. They will soon all die in the Outback. Many people try to cut through the preserve to find work at the International Spaceport. They hope Australia is what America used to be. They've come a long way for nothing. When America voted for... O.” The two pretty reporter gals then snuggled up close to Mike & Greg, which changed everything!

“Those people are criminals! It is well posted! No vehicles are allowed in the preserve. We've been flying will now at 360mph for hours to get here. Nobody could walk out. Nobody could make it out.” stated Greg.

“Cornelius, if this plane crashed, we would also die here” said Mike. “Nobody would save us. Wilderness and saving the Earth is more important than one family. This is war and war costs lives. You know that, Corny. Madame Secretary is doing a great work.”

“Didn't you learn this in school? Or from watching TV?” questioned Greg. “The fact is, at over 15mph the gnats die when hit by car grills or windshields. That hateful, dirty, ignorant, coal mining family will now become gnat food. Yes, food for the very little ones they cared nothing about. Earth's revenge is sweet!”

Mike and Greg were playing up to the pretty female reporters and talking the politically correct line. They did get their phone and room numbers, and the reporter gals were 'hot' and 'easy'. Men will say anything for sex, I thought. This is sick. Later I was alone again with Mike.

“Ok Mike, I understand about the gals, but I missed one part about the sonic boom. Now talk some sense!”

Mike looked around to see if the coast was clear before speaking. “Sonic booms from incoming shuttles were interfering with the mating habits of the Peach Tree Spider Gnat” he said. “So the wilderness preserve was started and the Spaceport had to slow down its incoming shuttles. These gnats live for about four months. They mate often and like to sleep late.”

“You're not serious, Mike!”

“Of course I'm serious, Cornelius”

E.B. Cane then blasted us again with his speaker. “Our next stop is what you've all been waiting for. Do not walk far from the craft or pick vegetation. Doing so is against the law. We will be landing soon. Disembark at your own risk. This is National Parkland, but it is not yet sacred wilderness. We landed on top of the dome rock you see on commercials for Australia. Everybody got out and looked at the view. The big rock was as hot as a blast furnace, so most of us didn't stay outside for long. Drinks were being served by E.B. Cane, but within a few minutes, only a few of us remained outside. I grabbed the whole platter of cheese sticks and two full bottles of red wine when E.B. offered and started walking away from the plane. E.B. shouted on his bullhorn.

“All aboard All aboard! I told Ralph you'd be trouble” shouted E.B. as I kept walking away.

“Pick me up on your next trip, Mr. Cane” I shouted back.

“That is against the rules, Cornelius! I will tell Ralph and file a written report” he shouted, not using his bullhorn.

I didn't look back just continued walking so dust from the take-off would not get in my wine. I sat down on a big rock with my platter of cheese sticks and dip and poured myself a fresh glass as the Osprey craft took off into the distance. I knew there were three long trips planned to the big rock today and putting up with hearing 'Madame Secretary! Madame Secretary' made me want to jump out of the damn plane.

What a great feeling it was to be all alone, in solitude, on top of the great rock. I lifted my face and hands to heaven, shutting my eyes in silent prayer. After a few minutes of sun-baked, quiet meditation, I sat back down on my rock. Opening my eyes, I saw sitting right in front of me another man also in prayer. We sat face to face on the only two rocks in sight. Momentarily, he finished praying also and then lifted his head. We stared eye to eye. Neither one of us spoke at first. Then the old timer broke the ice.

“Name's Mel....cheese en sticks?” He had my cheese platter in his hand.

“Your name is Mel Cheesensticks?”

“No! My name is Mel! Do you want some cheese and dip?” He had already opened my other bottle of red wine, so Mel refreshed my glass. He had his own cup made of solid gold.

“You're not gonna try and give me a bunch of lambs, or any type of old hairy animals, are you?” questioned Mel.

“No, Sir!”

“Good! One never knows. To tell the truth I don't like lambs much. I met a young man named Abrams once. Nice fellow, but, wow, all those lambs!”

“Old man, where'd you come from? What are you doing on this rock? Nobody was up here a minute ago.” I asked.

“I'm taking a break” Mel said. “I deserve one. Taking a break and talking to you. You prayed to know
  
truth right, Cornelius?”

“Taking a break from what?” I asked. “And how did you know my name? And my...Oh God...”

Mel interrupted me. “I clean the church! That's what I do. I clean seven churches. Work hard, I do. Who am I? Let's say that I'm a friend of a friend who wants to help you.”

“You're more than a janitor, aren't you, Mel?” I asked. “You know about stuff, about giants and God and being Holiness!”

“Call me what you will, Cornelius. King, High priest of Salem, the main one is not here. Neither are the others. So, yes, technically, I am in charge” he said. “But, really and truly, I am the janitor.”

“Where is this church of yours, Mel? Where did the others go? When do you meet?”

“Who is in your church on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday? Don't you have a janitor, too” he asked.

“Sure we do” I answered.

“We meet on the Lord's day, Cornelius. Just like you! We're on a different time schedule, that's all, a different flock. What did God do when he was with the Israelites in person? He taught them to build a temple to worship him! God does not change, Cornelius! He is the same today as he always was and always will be. Our Lord is coming back here, and when that day comes, old Mel will be ready! That's what life is all about!”

“I'd like to go to your church, Mel. Where is it?”

“What did Jesus say, Cornelius? A wise man builds his house upon the rock! A wise man of his Word, he is!”

“Mel, I ask you, why don't men of science go along with and accept Gods Word.? Is God against science and learning? A preacher once told me that man should not go to the moon. Is the Space Station evil?”

“God loves learning, Cornelius! God created science! True science, true wisdom, the true church, they are always on the same page. Guess what? God already knows the answer! No, the Space station itself is not evil. It's even a good idea. But realize that Satan will try to hitch a ride. He was thrown down and imprisoned here on Earth. Also, if ungodly men build something to confront God's law with; be it the Titanic or a Space station, what happens? Read the book of Job. The angel is hitching a ride! Whatever God does, the angel will try to steal, destroy or counterfeit.”

“What about this gnat preserve, Mel?” I asked. Is
  
Madame Secretary crazy and why do most people seem to be blind to the obvious truth or...well...stupid, Mel?”

“The Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom” he replied. “She has no fear of God. These people have false religions, false gods and ungodly priests. I am a servant, as you are, Cornelius. You and I are both flesh, and both men. I am of another flock, in another season. These seasons are defined and controlled by God. Your giant is of God's world, not flesh. He fights battles for you everyday. The scope of God is too massive, too complex for us to understand. But by His grace, God has allowed our seasons to overlap. And your giant is very nice!”

“You mean God is so powerful that each man has a giant? Wow! Who could ever fight against God?”

“What you call science is often not science at all.” he explained. “Look at those gnat nuts for example. They are all false priests. They have been against space travel all along. These same false priests killed the American Space Program, Cornelius.”

“How is that?”

He took another sip of wine and started again. “Do you remember the shuttle explosions and shuttles burning up on reentry?”

“Sure I do”