Short Stories
Unto
Thee
will I cry,
O Lord
my rock;
be not silent
to me;
lest,
if Thou be silent
to me,
I ......go down
into the pit.
[Psalms 28:1]
*****************
Time: Present Day
Place: Carlsbad Caverns,
New Mexico.
Characters: The Father [Gruff Voice],
Angel Clyde (One of the Prayer-Mail-Carriers),
Angel Beano (a ne're-do-well angel
who likes adventure),
and
various small bats.
__________________________
Story: Clyde has been
assigned a new Prayer-Mail-Route in
the Land of the Alamo. Previously, he had
been working the Juno-Alaska-Route,
and was very comfortable with that.
The Lord, however, felt that Clyde
needed to stretch his wings and learn some new mail-routes.
Clyde has panic attacks when he gets lost over Earth;
the Lord has sent Mail-Master-Angel Stampa'lino
with Clyde for the last three trips to Earth; this trip
is number four, and Clyde is alone. He has a map of
the southern United States duct-taped to the front of
his traveling-gown; a big star has been crayoned in
red, over the Land of the Alamo. He was enroute.....
and got lost. At the present moment,
he is hiding in a big cave, and in the throes of a bad panic-attack.
________________________________
(Shaky, trembling little
angelic voice: neither melodious,
nor musical, nor strong.)
"LORD?
Are You THERE?"
[SILENCE.]
(Clyde hunches down further by a nearby stalagmite;
two tiny bats swoop curiously over his halo'ed head;
one drops a round piece of smelly dung on Clyde's small,
light-green starred halo.)
"I don't know where...I
am, LORD!"
[Silence.]
"I'm LOST!"
(Clyde's plump face
screws up, as he begins
to sob.)
"I'm SCARED!"
[Silence.]
"There might be....
DEMONS around HERE!"
(Clyde looks up at the
stalagtited-ceiling:
sobbing.)
"This looks like a PLACE
THAT THEY'D LIKE!"
[Gruff Voice.]
"Look at your map,
Angel Clyde.
Gird your loins;
Be an angel."
(Clyde begins sobbing even
harder when he hears
the Lord's Voice.)
"I really can't SEE it!
It's STUCK to the front of
my GOWN!"
[Gruff Sigh.]
"You can tear it off,
Angel Clyde. It's just
taped-on."
(Sob.)
(Sniff.)
"Oh, OKAY!"
(Ripping sound of duct-tape
being pulled off gauzy-gown
material.)
[Patient Silence.]
"LORD?"
[Gruff Voice.]
"What."
"I TORE it,
LORD!
I TORE IT!"
[Sigh.]
"Well, put the ends
together. Can you see
The Land of the ALAMO?"
(Louder sobbing noises.)
(Sounds of a big piece
of wrinkled paper being
spread out, with small trembly fingers.
Another sound of a piece of bat
dung being dropped on it.)
"Uh, UH!
UH, UH!
I TORE IT, RIGHT IN
THE MIDDLE OF THE
TECHAS STATE,
LORD!"
(Sob.)
"I TORE it!"
[Silence.]
"Can You just BEAM me
UP, LORD?"
[Silence.]
"Can You just BEAM me
UP?"
[Silence.]
"TAKE ME HOME?"
[Gruff Voice.]
"No."
"But, I'm SCARED!
I'm LOST!
It's all DARK in HERE,
LORD! There's......BIG
HUGE BATS, here!"
[Gruff Voice.]
"They are small bats,
Angel Clyde."
[Gruff Sigh.]
"And they won't hurt you."
"But my MAP is all RIPPED
UP! My big RED STAR
is all torn UP!"
(Fresh sobs break out
in the dark quietness of
the huge cave. Some of
the tiny bats flap away
from the angel; one of them
drops another bit of smelly
dung on the angel's head.)
"I'm NEVER gonna get....
HOME!"
[Gruffer Voice.]
"Yes, you will.
You just have to learn,
Angel Clyde.
Be an angel.
Now....... stop crying."
(Sniff. Sniff.)
"Where's ARCHANGEL
MICHAEL? Is he AROUND?"
(Clyde wipes his nose with
a ragged corner of the
torn map; a scrap of duct-
tape sticks to his nose.)
"Is he OVER THIS part
of the EARTH?"
[Gruff Voice.]
"No;
he and his Warrior Angels
are over Assyria, right now:
fighting powerful demons."
(More hot tears slide
down Clyde's plump cheeks.)
"COULDN'T he just
fly over HERE....for a
SECOND? It wouldn't
TAKE that LONG.......!"
[Patient Voice.]
"No.
Now, listen."
(Sob.)
(Sob.)
(Noisy sounds of a big
wrinkled map being spread
this way, and that.)
(More sobbing.)
[Gruff Sigh.]
"Are you listening
to Me?"
"Yes, LORD!"
(Sniff. Sniff.)
"I'm........LISTENING!"
[Sigh.]
"Put the map down.
And go to sleep."
"But I'm too SCARED!"
[Silence.]
"OKAY!"
[Gruff Voice.]
"When you wake up,
it will be dark: evening,
outside."
(Clyde gets up: looking
about for a comfortable
napping-spot; he bumps
his head on a stalagtite.)
"But......THEN WHAT,
LORD?"
[Gruff Voice.]
"Follow the bats."
(Clyde sits back down again, and then starts
crawling toward a little corner of the cave. Upon
reaching it, however, he finds it to be covered in
bat dung. He begins sobbing again, and crawling
backward: bumping his wings into a huge stalagmite.)
"HUH?"
[Gruff Sigh.]
"It will be the bats'
dinnertime.
Follow them."
(Clyde crawls back to where he was. He bunches up his long gauzy-gown and sticks it under his winged-back. Then he lays his halo'ed head down on a small rock. Then, he reaches over and grabs a fresh pile of warm bat dung and spreads it over the small rock. Then he lays his head back down.)
"WHERE, LORD?
WHERE DO I FOLLOW
THEM?"
[Patient Voice.]
"Out of the...
cave."
(Clyde turns over on his side, opening up his wings
wider for warmth. He lays his wet cheek on the soft
warm dung: it was smelly, but soft. Almost immediately, Clyde begins to feel a little sleepy. His breathing begins to slow
down, and his little eyes close. He sniffs, nods,
and then whispers.)
"OKAY, LORD!
OKAY!
If You.....SAY........!"
[Smile.]
(Soft snores.)
{Time passes:
Earth Time.}
{The opening of the
cave becomes even darker.
The damp cave air becomes even colder.}
(Suddenly, there is a loud
flapping sound: accompanied by tiny little
screeches.)
(Clyde opens his eyes,
and lifts his head off his
dung-pillow. He squints,
sleepily.)
"What's goin' ON....?"
[Silence.]
(Clyde sits up; his wing-feathers are hanging
every which-way, and covered with warm fresh bat dung.)
"What's goin' ON,
LORD?"
[Gruff Voice.]
"They are going to
have dinner,
Angel Clyde."
(Clyde looks around,
panic-stricken, for his
map. Then, he looks under
his wings, and sees it: still
all torn, and now wet with
dripping stalagtite water.)
"WHO,
LORD?"
[Patient Voice.]
"The BATS:
they are going to dinner now. Now...FOLLOW them."
(Clyde squints up at the
stalagtite-covered ceiling.
It's all dark, and he can't
see anything.)
"Are You.........SURE?"
[Gruffer Voice.]
"YES.
Now, GO."
(Clyde's voice is small
and a little trembly, again.)
"OKAY.......
If You SAY SO............"
[Patient Voice.]
"I AM.
Now.....GO."
(Woeful nod.)
"Okay............."
[Sigh.]
(Clyde, on his hands and knees, crawls slowly out of
the big cave; his travel-gown is now stained,
smelly, and ripped; tucked inside the front is the wrinkled, torn-up map: duct-tape balled-up and stuck to its edges.)
"But, WHERE are they
GOING, LORD?"
[Gruff Voice.]
"East."
(Clyde stops for a minute
to tie up his long gown. Then he continues crawling:
squinting, woefully, up at the busy bats.)
"Which way is THAT?"
[Sigh.]
"Just FOLLOW..... them."
"I hope they know.....
where....they're GOIN'....."
[The Father laughs.]
{The sky outside the cave was an embroidery of twinkling bright stars on a background of midnight blue. The air was crisp
and cold: just right for flying. Clyde sprouted his
hardy-travel wings, and continued following the screeching bats: his bare toes relaxing under his long
gauzy gown. Suddenly, in sight, was a big be-winged figure: not a bat, or eagle, or crow. Clyde stopped flying; for
a second he began to panic again. What it a stray......DEMON: off the beaten TRAIL? Then Clyde saw a familiar head of wild-looking frizzy bright red hair, and his little heartbeats slowed down. He shouted happily.}
"BEANO!"
(Beano, who had always been called 'Beano' by the other angels since Time of Creation, was waving a big blue sack in one hand: the sack was bunched-full, and had a big cloth badge on its side, with the picture of a donkey carrying two sacks of mail.)
"HEY, BUDDY!
Ya forgot your MAIL-SACK!
The LORD sent me OVER!"
(Clyde, in mid air, started
crying again. He reached
up to rub his wet eyelashes.)
"Ah........BEANO!
BEANO!
Am I GLAD to see YOU!"
(The red-haired angel, big and bulky-looking, and who always had a big smile on his ruddy face, just laughed. He flew over, tossed the bunched-up mail sack over one of his big wings, and gave the smaller angel a clumsy hug.)
"What's a MATTER,
BUDDY? What's a MATTER? You just forgot
your MAIL SACK, is ALL!"
(Clyde broke out in a fresh
flood of tears; bits of
bat dung were still sticking to his curly brown
hair.)
"I got LOST!
I GOT LOST!"
(Beano clumsily patted
Clyde's dung-covered head:
squinting at it, and laughing loudly,
and heartedly.)
"NEAH!
You weren't LOST!
I 'been over THESE
PARTS......all the TIME!
HECK! I could probably
TELL ya every one a' these
bats' NAMES!"
(Clyde reached up to wipe
his wet cheeks, with the
back of both his small hands.)
"REALLY?"
(Beano patted his friend's dirty head again: wrinkling
his ruddy nose, curiously, at Clyde's dung-decorated curls.)
"YEAH! I FLY EVERYWHERE!
CAN'T get LOST!
I LOVE to FLY!"
(Clyde hiccuped. Then
he sniffed again: then
hiccuped.)
"Will YOU be my
MAIL-buddy?"
(Beano shrugged his big
shoulders. His wild, frizzy
red hair stuck straight out
from his halo'ed head; his
halo always looked kind of
weird: a square-shaped
bright patch of light over
his big wild hair.)
"HECK, SURE!
Why NOT? DON'T NEED
no MAP! No GPS, neither!
Just TELL ME....where ya
wanna GO! And....we'll
GO!"
(Clyde tried to right his halo;
it had gotten sticky with all
the bat dung, and was now leaning
over to one side.)
"Well........but, when
we get BACK... we have to
go ask The FATHER...."
(Beano nodded fiercely and absentmindedly;
he hitched the mail-bag over his big right wing, again.)
"COME ON!
Let's GO!
The ALAMO-CITY's THAT'A WAY!"
(Beano pointed eastward.)
"And....you still gotta lot a' PRAYER-SLIPS....to fill
OUT! Oh, HEY.........!"
(Beano reached down and
pulled a family-size bag
of M&M's out of his left
gown pocket. He tossed
it to his friend.)
"HERE! The LORD told
me to take THIS, ALSO!
Guess He thought you were
HUNGRY!"
(Clyde grabbed the big
bag of candy. He laughed
again, happily. Then he
looked up. Above their
heads was a huge cloud
of bats: busily on their
way in the cold night to
find insect-dinner. Clyde
shouted.)
"THANK YOU,
LORD!"
(Beano laughed too. He
watched the cloud of bats
winging their way eastward
in the desert night.)
"OKAY!
LET'S GO!"
(Clyde had already pulled open the bag of M&M's;
he gave a palmful to his friend. Beano accepted
them, and hoisted the big mail-bag again: it was
full of blank folded-pieces of white paper, and blue magic-markers. Clyde put a handful of M&M's in his mouth, and tried
to take the mail-bag but Bean waved him off.)
"COME ON!
LET'S GO!"
{The two angels lifted their wings, and took flight side by side: following behind the fluttering cloud of bats. Suddenly, Clyde shouted into night sky.)
"Hey.........BEANO?
What's a Gee-pee......ESP'T?"
The End.
********************
And
ye shall
seek Me,
and
find Me,
when ye
shall
search
for Me
with all
your heart.
[Jeremiah 29:13]
Copyright 2012.
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