God's Time

I’m in front of the big two story, wood shingle house, that meant so much to me. Just standing by the walkway that leads up to the front porch and lost in thought. My mind is years in the past. I feel the arthritis in my ankles and know I’m not young anymore. Why do I walk by here so often? What’s the point? I tell myself the past is dead over and over again, but my longing keeps leaking through like an unwanted habit. It’s overwhelming now. Filling me up.

“Charlie, what the hell you doing just standing there? You look lost. Are you wasted?” It’s Brad at the open door beyond the porch. Not Brad, because Brad died last year, but someone who looks and sounds an awful lot like him when he was young. How does he know my name, anyway? I’m totally confused and more than a little scared. What the hell is going on?

“Sorry to disturb you, I’ll just move on.” But my voice sounds different and my body is not the same. I look at my hands and the wrinkles and sun damage are gone. What the hell? No pain in my ankles. I could walk for miles.

Now the person who looks like Brad is coming down the porch steps towards me. “Charlie, you’re freaking me out man. You on a bad trip? I’m here to help you bud.”

My young heart is pounding in my chest out of fear, but I’ve got to maintain myself. Just go with the flow, I tell myself. I’ll figure things out yet. Calm down. Besides if this is a dream, it isn’t that bad to be young again. So, I paste a goofy smile on my face. “No Brad, I’m cool. Had a little too much smoke but nothing I can’t handle.”

Brad’s right up next to me now and patting me on the back in his typical Brad way. “Good to hear that buddy. You have a reputation to maintain around here as Captain Cosmic who can handle any drug without freaking. Don’t want you blowing that on my watch.”

I hadn’t heard that moniker for myself in years and it’s starting to dawn on me that somehow the impossible was possible. I remembered hearing about this concept called non-linear time where the past, present, and future all co-exist in the same moment. The guy who told me about it called it “God’s time” and said that in deep space, linear time didn’t exist. Man, I was in some deep space now. My longing must have pushed me over the line.

Brad’s smiling and leading me towards the steps up to the door. “Come on in, we been waiting for you. Where you been, man? You were supposed to buy some beer but here you ae empty handed. What’s up with that?”

“Well Brad, I got a tale to tell”

We go through the door, and they’re all there just as I remember all those years ago. Sitting on couches and chairs in the huge front room. Drinking, smoking, talking, listening to music, and doing all the things that hippies do. They’re all glad to see me, and pause briefly in whatever they were doing to acknowledge my empty-handed return.

“Look what the cat dragged in. Where’s the beer you went out to get?” Mary Murphy says although she prefers the name Sunshine that most of us avoid.

“Glad you asked Mary. You wouldn’t believe what happened to me on the way to the liquor store.”

Brad chimes in, all excited. “Hey guys, I saw Charlie standing out in front like forever and looking all discombobulated if you know what I mean. He’s says he’s got a story to tell and we all know about Charlie’s stories.”

The room’s getting quieter in expectation of one of my tall tales. They really aren’t that special. I usually just make them up as I go. However, you have to consider that the audience is often in altered states of mind and love live entertainment and someone who’s not afraid to sometimes make a fool of themselves.

“OK, OK I feel a story, a real epic, coming through soon now. First though, I need my own personal sugar magnolia here as inspiration. Where’s Rachael?”

Suddenly they’re calling her name and are laughing up a storm. It’s a kind of running joke in the house and everyone likes to get in on it. God, I missed this in all the years I was growing old. The spontaneity, fun, and just plain craziness of youth. She’s in the back kitchen and quickly appears in the room to run over and hug me to the mocking applause of our stoned audience. It was a hug I’d remembered and missed so often. We both take a mock bow and sit together where a space had been cleared on one of the numerous couches. Furniture is being moved around so that most of the people in the house can see us. She’s squeezing my hand and smiling. This is so real.

I’m passed a joint and a beer. It is old times. I’m relaxed with thoughts of who I was before this fading. Becoming the Charlie I was years ago. Then I start the promised story.

I tell of how I was starting to go in to the liquor store a few blocks away and got sucked in to a “time vortex”. There is some laughter at this because they know my penchant for talking about strange and weird things. After some jokes from the audience I go on to say that while in this portal, I had lived an entire lifetime and grown to be an old man. I give them real details on my post hippie life and all the things I had done. I leave out the parts about which of them died and when because I didn’t want to depress anyone. No one wants to be told when and where they will meet the “grim reaper”. I then say that I had just arrived on the sidewalk in front of the house and was transformed back in to the good looking guy they see before them. All this right before Brad opened the door. The story was totally true, yet how could they see it as other than the type of elaborate fantasy I was known for? It was perfect.

“Yeah, Charlie, anything to get out of paying for a little beer, you cheapskate.” Lonnie says to peals of laughter.

“Where do you come up with this stuff Charlie and where’s that beer money I gave you?” Jack asks.

“Sorry bud, It got spent while in the vortex. Did I tell you guys that a six pack of beer cost more than twelve bucks in my old age?”

“No way man, impossible. You can buy a case now for five. What a crappy future” Lonnie laughs and I’m laughing with him. Feeling like I’ve finally come home. As people start to go back to what they were doing before I showed, Rachael and I are snuggling together.

“Charlie, that was a great story but you should have made up a part about you and I getting married and having a little swarm of cute rug rats.” Rachael smiles at me.

Looking in her eyes, I don’t have the heart to tell her that in real life we drifted apart and I have no idea of her fate, although I had thought about her constantly over the years. Losing her was always a huge regret. So I wing it now.

“Of course, you are right. I’m sorry. That would have been an even better story than the one I came up with, What can I do to make up for it?”

With that, Rachael smiles and says. “You can marry me now, Charlie.” She laughs and gives me one of her impish looks.

I know she is not fully serious, but even if she was, I would not hesitate. “Sure, lets’ do it.” I give her a big hug. And announce it to the room.

“Today’s entertainment is not yet over. Who wants to marry Rachael and I?”

There are many who volunteer. We love weird ceremonies and putting on little skits and plays all while in altered realities. No television is allowed in the house. Too square. So, we have our music, stories, and games to entertain us. What better game than a mock wedding.

Brad will officiate but everyone takes a role and puts together some sort of costume. There are the bridesmaids, the best man, the ushers, the father of the bride, and whatever other roles you could imagine. We even have a “visiting alien” and President Nixon attend. It is all great fun and everyone is really getting in to it. I borrow a ring from Lonnie and use it as the wedding ring. It doesn’t really fit Rachael’s finger but that doesn’t matter. Eventually Brad pronounces us “man and wife” and I kiss the bride. The crowd is cheering, Rachael is beaming, and I’m starting to get a little wasted from all the marijuana. The room is spinning, I feel like I’m going to pass out.

When I open my eyes, I’m on the sidewalk in front of the house. There is a crowd around me and the paramedics are there. They tell me they are taking me to the hospital for observation. All the old man pains are back and I see my wrinkled, sun damaged hands. At the hospital the tests are performed and I’m given a room. Later, they tell me my wife is here. I try to tell them I’m not married, but the words don’t come out quite right. Then she is right beside me and I hear the voice that hasn’t changed over all these years.

“Hi, Charlie, I’m here. Hang in there, it’s all going to be alright. I love you.” She squeezes my hand.