An Accidental Friendship

A bearded man of senior age stood alone and still, in a remarkable ancient church, now a well-preserved historical site. Early in the 19^th century it was built by a sect of Quakers who called themselves ‘Children of God’. The old man looked around like he was trying to capture living memories of its history with his eyes.

His thoughts rang loud in his mind like he was a one man crowd. He had been to this sacred place two times before, both of them wonderful. One time he was with his paternal grandfather, Ebenezer, who was like a father to him, and who he was named after. When he was in school, the other kids called him Scrooge around the time of Christmas. He never met anyone else other than his grandfather with the name Ebenezer. His second visit to the church was with his wife who loved the place as much as he did. She now had been dead for two long years. He could see them both with the eyes of his soul, as they had exercised a strong and positive effect on his life.

Eventually, he spoke his feelings, there being no one in the building to hear him: “It would take an act of God to make me happy like that again, as I was when I came here with those two. But I am not a great believer in such things. Having even just one friend now would change my life for the better, but that does not seem possible at this stage and age of my life. There would only be a response to my words if the walls, and the many chairs in the place could speak”. 

In the centre of the building there was a carefully blocked very steep set of stairs called ‘Jacob’s Ladder’ that the religious musicians in their time would climb in order to have their music cascade to the congregation in the church. Ebenezer could not imagine how they would be able to climb up the wooden stairs to the second level, let alone carry instruments with them when they did so. He wondered whether they had ever fallen when they climbed.

He walked around the building slowly, taking in every detail of the place, even trying to guess which of the many windows might have been original in the building. He had seen an old photo of the building after it had been abandoned, before it was rescued for historical preservation’s sake. Rocks had been thrown through a number of the first windows, but not all of them.

Then he sat down in one of many chairs that were aimed at the front and centre of the building. It helped him to imagine himself as part of the congregation.   He was startled when he heard the door open at the other side of the church.  The ‘intruder’ as he first thought of him was a young man who strode boldly into the building, with a knapsack on his back. He could see that the young man was immediately intrigued by Jacob’s Ladder, and headed straight for it with what appeared to be a strong sense of purpose..

But he did not stop there. Defying the blocking set up to protect foolish visitors from trying to ascend to the next floor, he started climbing up the stairs, trying to achieve the impossible. It did prove to be beyond his intent. About a third of the way up he had a hideous accident. He fell off the ladder and crash-landed on the floor, his head banging hard on the solid wood beneath him. He did not cry out. There was just a heavy clunk, and he passed out into unconsciousness.

Ebenezer reacted quickly to the possible tragedy not far from his feet. He sped to the door, yanked it open and ran as fast as his aging legs would allow him. Soon he was at entrance office. There he told the young woman there that she would have to call an ambulance, as a young man had crash landed on the back of the head first on the floor.. He never carried a cell phone with him, even though his wife had given him one several years ago. He had tried to use it when she was still alive, but soon gave up. Ebenezer referred to AI as an ‘Annoying Imposition’, as a dictator with whom he could not argue, nor win in a conflict.

The ambulance soon arrived, and the medical staff carried the young man carefully into their vehicle. He was still unconscious. Ebenezer asked them where the hospital was that they were taking the young man. The person he asked spoke rather quickly, but Ebenezer was still able to figure out what the man was saying.

He was soon in his car, and on the road. It only took him twenty minutes to get to his destination.

He asked a hospital staff member about where a recent victim of a fall had been taken to, describing the young man quite accurately. He was asked about what his relationship was with the young man. Well aware that he had to make this sound good, he quickly lied, “I am his grandfather.” The staff member believed him, and told him that the young man was on the third floor, room 12. The elevator seemed slower than a walk up the stairs would have been.

He walked briskly to the room, burst in, and announced that he was the young man’s grandfather. He saw that the young man was still unconscious, which distressed him on two levels. Of course, the main stress was concerning the young man’s health. The other was that he hoped that the doctor would not ask for the young man’s name. Fortunately, the medical man had learned it, having checked his wallet, hoping to find some reference to a family member to contact. He used the name in his conversation with Ebenezer. The young man had a religious name: David.

Ebenezer was told to sit in a chair that was just outside the room. He decided to get himself a coffee as this could be a long wait. When he returned, the doctor told him that David was conscious now, but possibly not completely so. He had given the doctor a strange stare of surprise hearing that his grandfather was waiting for him, saying with a sad face that his one living grandfather living far, far away.

That feeling was soon rectified at least partially when the young man said with a smile. “I know you. You were in the church. I heard that you were the one to call the ambulance. I think that you might have saved my life.”

Ebenezer went up to him, shook his hand warmly, then whispered to him that his name was Ebenezer.

Ebenezer then asked David, “Tell me why you thought you should climb up Jacob’s ladder, when it was blocked and looked so very dangerous.” 

“Well you see, Ebenezer, I am a musician. In my bag I had a flute, which I take with me everywhere. I wanted to hear what my music might sound like from the second floor.”

He then looked down at the floor with sadness, and said, “I won’t be able to do that for a while. I smashed my flute”.

“Well, John, I think that when you are freed from this place, we will go to buy you a new one.”

They would talk on and off for the rest of the day. Ebenezer learned that, like himself, young John had no family or friends in town. Ebenezer gladly told himself silently, then John vocally that they both had one of the latter now. What he did not say that for him, John’s fall, probable recovery and their beginning of a friendship were like the acts of God that he did not believe in. Call it luck, good fortune, or religiously inspired, it was just what he had wanted.