I could hear Jesus before I could see him. He was giggling. Then I saw him. He was sitting on an industrial wire spool, the kind college kids use for coffee tables. He had a small table beside him, and there was a t.v. on it. The t.v. wasn't plugged in, but the sound and the picture were working fine. I heard George Jefferson say, "Forget about it Weezy. Lionel's going to have to go to Vietnam. Kill some Commies."
Obviously an episode I'd never seen before.
I saw Jesus was smoking a cigarette. He had a snifter in his hand. He looked up and saw me. He smiled so very sadly, "Hi Mary."
"Hi, Jesus."
Jesus looked at the t.v. and it shut off.
Then it dissapeared.
I couldn't help it. I said, "Wow."
Jesus smiled, his smile made me want to cry, "What would you like to do Mary?"
I sighed, "Well...I'd really like something to eat. Maybe we could start with that."
Jesus gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. I could smell Schnapps on his breath. He lifted the snifter to his mouth. He swallowed. He burped, "Sorry Mary. Got any Tums?"
I shook my head.
He shrugged. He said, "Want to take a little walk first, build up an appetite?"
I nodded. I was a bit dumbstruck. Being so close to him was intoxicating. He reeked of stale urine, sweat, liquor, cigarettes, but he smelled of good things too, Myrrh, Sage leaves buring and cinnamon toast.
Jesus took my arm. He took my arm and led me out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. We strolled by a gaggle of cigarette smokers on front of the Salvation Army. Another AA meeting. Jesus smiled at the smokers. A short woman with grey hair glared at him, "Jesus Christ. You got a lot of nerve to show yourself around here. Where's my rent money?"
Jesus was clearly flustered, "I told you I'd pay you on the third of the month when I get my social security check. Besides I moved out last month."
The woman spat as she shrieked, "You broke my bed! You fucked my dog! You stole my mother's engagement ring! You are a piece of shit, Jesus Christ."
Jesus smiled at her, sadly, "I'm absolutley imperfect. The way my father made me."
A big lady with yellow hair and an old man held the grey haired lady back. The blonde held her arms behind her back. The old man stood between her and Jesus. She spat. She moaned. She gurlged, "Wuzzzzazuzu...guuuuurghhuthug...I'm gonnamutherfuckinkillya! Jesussssss...You suck, you suck, you suck."
Jesus pulled at my wrist, "Come on Mary. She's troubled."
We walked down Waterman Street toward the water. I asked, "Was that lady your girlfriend?"
Jesus laughed, "I've never had a girlfriend. I can't really get into the ownership aspects of that kind of relationship."
"Did you really fuck her dog?"
"And lots of other things. And I really like her too. Liz Boorstein. Nice girl. When she's sober."
We walked down the street, toward the park, by the water, where the closeted gay guys hang around, and try to pick each other up.
It's my favorite park. There's a pond, and it's forested and hilly. There are paths and stone walls. There's an amazing view of the Providence river and East Providence.
We walked almost in silence. I was so high just from Jesus's proximity. I could feel the holy heat radiating from his body. Tendrils of his energy reached out and caressed my body. I could feel the ghost of his intent stroking my thighs.
I gasped, "Jesus. Are you feeling me up with ectoplasm?"
Jesus chuckled, "I've never heard it expressed that way before. But. There are more things in heaven and earth than all your philosophies can imagine, or something like that."
And, without any kind of prelude, Jesus grabbed me and kissed me on the mouth.
I slapped him.
He laughed, "You're strong."
He tried to kiss me again.
I slapped him again, harder, "Jesus, no. What the hell. Don't you understand anything about romance? Aren't you even going to talk to me? Try to get me interested?"
Jesus shrugged and took my arm again. He led me toward the park, "Sorry Mary. You see, I'm a celebrity. Usually, girls, and guys, just want to fuck me quickly, and get it over with. Nobody really wants to get to know me. I'm sure it's because they know if they did they'd be supremely dissapointed. People want to know me, or fuck me, just so they can tell everyone that they did."
I was flabbergasted, "But you're the son of God?"
"Didn't you know God is dead?"
I shook my head.
We kept walking. The dusk was starting to obscure the buildings of the city.
Jesus threw his empty snifter into the air. He pointed at it, as it flew, and it burst into flames. Then it became a flock of small yellow birds and flew away. I tried not to look impressed.
Jesus lit a cigarette and reached into his robe. He brought out another snifter, full of syrupy clear liquid. He took a swallow.
I said, "Jesus. Where are your manners? Don't you even care if I want a drink too?"
He said, "Shit. Sorry Mary. What do you like to drink?"
I said, "Well. I rarely drink. But what I really like is champagne. Or mimosas."
Jesus reached for my cleavage, and I lurched away. He pulled a champagne flute from between my breasts.
I said, "Ha ha. You think my tits are too big?"
Jesus shook his head.
I sipped. It was the best champagne I've ever had and I told him so.
He said, "Of course it is. It's Crystal. You said you were hungry. Want a picnic?"
I said, "I didn't bring anything. A blanket or anything."
He said, "Let me take care of that."
We stood beside the pond. The streetlight above us went on. Jesus waved his hands in the air and said, "Alakazam."
There was a flash of light. A huge gust of wind blew around us, tossing my hair and reaching up my skirt.
A pavillion had materialized in the clearing before the pond. There was a big steaming buffet table on the pavilion and a nice bar. A swarthy waiter in a tuxedo stood beside the buffet.
There was a small dinner table for two on the pavilion. There was a crisp white tablecloth, a votive candle, silverware and pink and white roses for a centerpiece. Jesus pulled out my chair for me and I sat. I guess he does know at least a little something about romance.
Jesus sat across from me, and the waiter brought us champagne. Jesus smiled at him and said, "Thanks Gianno."
The waiter chuckled, "Oh, so good to see you again Mr. Christ."
Jesus touched the wick of the candle with his fingertip and a tiny purple flame ignited there.
He drained his champagne flute and Gianno brought him a refill.
Jesus asked, "What's your favorite food Mary?"
I said, "Breakfast is my favorite meal. It's the most hopeful meal of the day. Before anything bad can happen and ruin my appetite. I love eggs benedict, and cheese omelettes, crepes, blintzes, pancakes, waffles. I especially love the breakfast meats. Sausage, bacon, ham..." Talking about breakfast made me hungrier and my stomach rumbled loud enough for Christ to hear. He drained his champagne flute. He grinned at me.
Gianno removed the lids from the warming trays on the buffet table to reveal every kind of breakfast delight I could imagine. Blintzes, crepes, Greek yogurt, granola, and honey, chocolate chip pancakes, with blueberry and rasberry flavored maple syrup. There was blood pudding, and rashers of bacon, thick and fatty.
I gushed, "Oh, Jesus. This is so beautiful. This is the best buffet I've ever seen."
He said, "Wait till you taste it." He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nose.