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Was I Talking To An Angel?
Author: Tim Mack
Topic: Multimedia
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I couldn't believe that I was all alone with part of the cross
that Christ had carried. It felt so strange to think that just
an ordinary person such as myself would now be in the presence
of the symbol that had forever changed the world. Just a short
while ago I had sailed the seven seas and had behaved like quite
an ordinary sailor. But somehow my fate had now been cast with
the Metropolitan Museum Of Art. Yes, I had a New York State
Regents that certified that I was qualified for my position, but
I had never taken Art very seriously other than to admire the
works of the great ones. My most viable skill had always been
accounting. But of course I became bored out of my mind by it,
thus ending up in the Navy seeking adventure. I had been brought
up as a Catholic, so of course I thought that religion must be
some sort of an extension of Bingo. Despite going to eight years
of Catholic grade school, they never let us within 200 feet of a
real Bible, so my entire concept of religion was that everything
that was fun to do was a sin. We were taught that it was a
mortal sin if a woman wore pants. And even if you never had sex
with a woman, you were going to hell if you even thought about
it, unless you were married to her. So after coming to the
conclusion that they were all out of their birds that went
tweet, tweet, tweet, I decided to join the Navy and catch up
with all those fun sins I had been missing out on. But now it
was time to settle down and to have a normal job again. So,
still bored with accounting, I played my art card and got a job
with the Metropolitan Museum Of Art. But so much of the world
had changed since all the years I had been away. I was
surrounded by celebrities but I hardly knew who any of them
were. I remember some crazed woman screaming at me one day
demanding to know where her Gold Plates had been moved to. When
I asked her why she was so concerned about what was going on in
the Rockerfeller Wing she said, "don't you know that I'm Happy
Rockerfeller?" So when the Vatican sent us the cross that Christ
had carried I hadn't even been aware that it had ever existed.
As I stared in amazement I heard the sound of someone coming
toward me with the sound of a clanging key. It was a black guy
dressed in a very faded looking suit. "How did you get in
here,?" I asked "Oh, I have a key to every space in the Museum,"
he said. "Well, you'll have to sign your name on this list. They
want a listing of anyone that's in this special gallery with the
cross." "I'm always here, but I'll sign this anyway," he said.
"I've never noticed you here before. Why are you hear anyway,?"
I asked. "I came here because I wanted to meet you in person,"
he said. "I think you took a wrong turn somewhere, I'm not a
celebrity," I quipped. "Yes, you're not, but you're more
entertaining than you can imagine," he said. "Oh. I guess you
heard about my not knowing who Dudley Moore was. The poor guy.
He seemed so nice, but I never heard of his "Arthur" movie. I've
just about been living in the jungle the last few years. They
didn't have any "Arthur" movies there, but a woman I had been
staying with seemed to be quite amused at the site of two
lizards making love on her bedroom wall. I mean who needs
"Arthur" when you have that kind of entertainment." I said. "So
you don't know any of them,?" he asked. "I remembered who Tony
Randall was. He walked into the office to see one of the
paintings that's hidden from the public." He looked at the
painting and then looked at me, and took a deep breath, and said
"You're so lucky to be working here and being around all this
wonderful art." I answered, "yes I am, but I'm quite willing to
trade jobs." "So thats it?" he asked. "Oh, just one more. After
several months of talking to her someone mentioned she was the
President's daughter. And I thought she was so entertained with
my sea stories at lunch time. I can't believe I never made the
connection." She would say things like, "my Dad was in the Navy,
my Dad was on a PT Boat." "I guess its a good thing I'm a
Democrat." "So does America seem different to you after all
those years,? he asked. "Well, this may sound strange to say,
but I feel as if America has gotten a soul since I've been away.
It seemed to hit me all at once while I was walking down the
street the other day. I heard this voice that sounded like an
Angel emanating from a Tavern. I had to go in and see who it was
singing on the juke box. I found that it was someone calling
herself Madonna and the name of the song was called "Like A
Prayer,"
and what really struck me was that she didn't seem
like the typical kind of person that would be singing a song
that had vast religious connotations." "Why do you say that?,"
he asked. "Well, I had observed first hand what I thought at the
time was a regional fringe religious movement. The people were
very nice. They told me about things that they expected to
happen in the future. I listened to be polite, but I really
didn't understand it or even imagine the scope that it would
encompass. It was just so strange. I was having lunch and a
beautiful girl invited me to a party. But it was a party with
cool aid and people playing religious music. At first, the only
one there that made any sense to me was the girl's
twelve-year-old sister that asked me if I thought she could ever
become Miss America. I told her if that's what she really
wanted, yes, someday she would become Miss America. And I guess
she had faith in my judgement because she really did become Miss
America," I said. "So, what sort of things did they tell you,?"
he asked? "They told me that there would be a vast religious
movement that would emanate in America and then travel to all
corners of the world. But, at least, at the time, it was beyond
anything that I could comphrehend. It just seemed so strange.
She was one of the most beautiful woman I had ever met, but yet,
romance wasn't on her mind, but rather she told me that she
wanted to save my soul." "And did she save your soul,? he asked.
"No she didn't. I just couldn't believe all the things she was
telling me. I really couldn't fathom the idea that someone could
be that good. But as I traveled I began to understand what she
was saying. When I looked out at the vast oceans and then I saw
natives that swam with sharks that were protected by their faith
it all started to make sense. I mean I'm not even saying that
there is a God for sure, but there is something. When I was
sailing in the waters where Christ had fished I could feel some
sort of presence. I felt an alpha and omega." I said. "There is
a God. I have that from the highest authority. Trust me," he
said. "Didn't Richard Nixon once say trust me,?" I quipped. "Oh
yes, he did, didn't he. I guess now I'll have to come up with a
new cliche," he said. Just then there was a knock on the door.
As I got up to see who was at the door I observed my visitor and
his clangy key melting into the Museum wall. The knock at the
door was someone letting me know about the updated instructions
from the Vatican. When I asked him if he knew who the guy was
that signed the visitor book his face turned flush white as he
said "that guy worked here, but he's been dead for fifteen
years."

About the author:
I keep a personal blog where I allow public comments at this
URL. http://timothy.journalspace.com/
I also have a My Stories Blog at this URL. http://www.journalhome
.com/timmack/



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