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The Great Ark

Page 11

by T. C. Driver


  “I see them. I can see them” squealed two female New York Times reporters as Katie of TV news ran over to their window with her slave camera man in hot pursuit. Our Osprey craft flew low and slow now as E. B. Cane beat on his microphone for attention.

  “The Peach Tree Preserve has shown a thirty-two percent increase in gnat population density since sonic booms were suspended at the International Spaceport just six short years ago. This great work started as a joint effort by the Young Guardians and the ACLU. It is now a textbook model for government grant environmental projects. You can all take pride in being a supporter; a lover of Captain Planet. (I mean of the planet) and one of its smallest creatures. Yes, thank-you good people for your kind human nature and your generous support of the famous 'Peach Tree Preserve'!”

  I stared out the window. “I don't see any peaches. Do you, Greg?”

  “No, Cornelius” he said. “The peach trees died out when farming and irrigation was outlawed. The Spider gnats eat a natural rotting indigenous cactus now.”

  “Spider Gnats, Greg are you kidding?” I asked.

  “No, Cornelius. Look at those thick swarms or columns twirling around. That's the peach tree spider gnat!”

  I looked down and said “Look at those people down there waving.” Greg and Mike jumped up to look out the window and then quickly sat back down, shaking their heads.

  E.B. Cane then blasted over the speaker “These new remote sensors now being dropped by our plane are solar powered and will help us count preserve population more accurately. They were a joint effort by the NAACP and a grant from Madame Secretary's department (applause). These sensors were made entirely by minority, non-Jewish, abused, gay homeless women in North America. Thank-you Madame Secretary (applause). As always, no emergency or manned vehicles are allowed to enter or trespass across the international wilderness preserve. Trespassers do so at their own risk and are breaking the law.”

  The two New York Times reporters and TV Katie all sat down near Mike, Greg and I. These gals were non-stop gossip.

  “Did you see those people? They had kids and it was so disturbing! He was smoking a cigarette!”

  “So was she, Katie! It's not the kids fault! Look at that big old gas burning SUV with a painted back fender!”

  “I saw it! And that trailer had no solar cells!”

  “My God, he could even have a gun!”

  “A gunmen should we call the police? That blue is a Kentucky plate, Katie! Most likely those people are a coal miner's family”

  “Not a coal miner? Yuck! Can you even imagine? They are so dirty! I've never even seen one this up close before, I thought Osoma got rid of coal.”

  “No. We had protesters working in Kentucky just last month, remember? We showed that horrible confederate flag” on the morning show.

  “Yes, we put that flag on the front page!” said one reporter lady.

  The other reporter shouted “You go, girl!”

  “Wow, a dirty coal miner and redneck gunman that hates Mother Earth and Colored people! ...... The poor colored people can't help it.....”

  TV Katie started crying.

  “I bet he listens to AM radio and reads the Bible” said Times reporter number two. “Did you know that there are still over 800 AM radio stations; all of them preaching hate? I'm so ashamed of being from the South!”

  The other reporter spoke up “I told you Florida is different. Stop apologizing honey! You're not really southern.”

  “Osoma can't change everything overnight” said TV Katie. “I wish we could make him king for life! He gives me bumps and chills every time I see him” Her crossed legs began thrashing about uncontrollably.

  “Oh, Katie, stop!” said reporter one, rubbing her own leg.

  I waved to Mike and pulled him aside. “What are these women talking about?”

  “Those people down there waving Cornelius, that Kentucky family. Those people are toast; gnat food. They will soon all die in the Outback. Many people try to cut through the preserve to find work at the International Spaceport. They hope Australia is what America used to be. They've come a long way for nothing. When America voted for... O.” The two pretty reporter gals then snuggled up close to Mike & Greg, which changed everything!

  “Those people are criminals! It is well posted! No vehicles are allowed in the preserve. We've been flying will now at 360mph for hours to get here. Nobody could walk out. Nobody could make it out.” stated Greg.

  “Cornelius, if this plane crashed, we would also die here” said Mike. “Nobody would save us. Wilderness and saving the Earth is more important than one family. This is war and war costs lives. You know that, Corny. Madame Secretary is doing a great work.”

  “Didn't you learn this in school? Or from watching TV?” questioned Greg. “The fact is, at over 15mph the gnats die when hit by car grills or windshields. That hateful, dirty, ignorant, coal mining family will now become gnat food. Yes, food for the very little ones they cared nothing about. Earth's revenge is sweet!”

  Mike and Greg were playing up to the pretty female reporters and talking the politically correct line. They did get their phone and room numbers, and the reporter gals were 'hot' and 'easy'. Men will say anything for sex, I thought. This is sick. Later I was alone again with Mike.

  “Ok Mike, I understand about the gals, but I missed one part about the sonic boom. Now talk some sense!”

  Mike looked around to see if the coast was clear before speaking. “Sonic booms from incoming shuttles were interfering with the mating habits of the Peach Tree Spider Gnat” he said. “So the wilderness preserve was started and the Spaceport had to slow down its incoming shuttles. These gnats live for about four months. They mate often and like to sleep late.”

  “You're not serious, Mike!”

  “Of course I'm serious, Cornelius”

  E.B. Cane then blasted us again with his speaker. “Our next stop is what you've all been waiting for. Do not walk far from the craft or pick vegetation. Doing so is against the law. We will be landing soon. Disembark at your own risk. This is National Parkland, but it is not yet sacred wilderness. We landed on top of the dome rock you see on commercials for Australia. Everybody got out and looked at the view. The big rock was as hot as a blast furnace, so most of us didn't stay outside for long. Drinks were being served by E.B. Cane, but within a few minutes, only a few of us remained outside. I grabbed the whole platter of cheese sticks and two full bottles of red wine when E.B. offered and started walking away from the plane. E.B. shouted on his bullhorn.

  “All aboard All aboard! I told Ralph you'd be trouble” shouted E.B. as I kept walking away.

  “Pick me up on your next trip, Mr. Cane” I shouted back.

  “That is against the rules, Cornelius! I will tell Ralph and file a written report” he shouted, not using his bullhorn.

  I didn't look back just continued walking so dust from the take-off would not get in my wine. I sat down on a big rock with my platter of cheese sticks and dip and poured myself a fresh glass as the Osprey craft took off into the distance. I knew there were three long trips planned to the big rock today and putting up with hearing 'Madame Secretary! Madame Secretary' made me want to jump out of the damn plane.

  What a great feeling it was to be all alone, in solitude, on top of the great rock. I lifted my face and hands to heaven, shutting my eyes in silent prayer. After a few minutes of sun-baked, quiet meditation, I sat back down on my rock. Opening my eyes, I saw sitting right in front of me another man also in prayer. We sat face to face on the only two rocks in sight. Momentarily, he finished praying also and then lifted his head. We stared eye to eye. Neither one of us spoke at first. Then the old timer broke the ice.

  “Name's Mel....cheese en sticks?” He had my cheese platter in his hand.

  “Your name is Mel Cheesensticks?”

  “No! My name is Mel! Do you want some cheese and dip?” He had already opened my other bottle of red wine, so Mel refreshed my glass. He had his own cup made of sol
id gold.

  “You're not gonna try and give me a bunch of lambs, or any type of old hairy animals, are you?” questioned Mel.

  “No, Sir!”

  “Good! One never knows. To tell the truth I don't like lambs much. I met a young man named Abrams once. Nice fellow, but, wow, all those lambs!”

  “Old man, where'd you come from? What are you doing on this rock? Nobody was up here a minute ago.” I asked.

  “I'm taking a break” Mel said. “I deserve one. Taking a break and talking to you. You prayed to know truth right, Cornelius?”

  “Taking a break from what?” I asked. “And how did you know my name? And my...Oh God...”

  Mel interrupted me. “I clean the church! That's what I do. I clean seven churches. Work hard, I do. Who am I? Let's say that I'm a friend of a friend who wants to help you.”

  “You're more than a janitor, aren't you, Mel?” I asked. “You know about stuff, about giants and God and being Holiness!”

  “Call me what you will, Cornelius. King, High priest of Salem, the main one is not here. Neither are the others. So, yes, technically, I am in charge” he said. “But, really and truly, I am the janitor.”

  “Where is this church of yours, Mel? Where did the others go? When do you meet?”

  “Who is in your church on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday? Don't you have a janitor, too” he asked.

  “Sure we do” I answered.

  “We meet on the Lord's day, Cornelius. Just like you! We're on a different time schedule, that's all, a different flock. What did God do when he was with the Israelites in person? He taught them to build a temple to worship him! God does not change, Cornelius! He is the same today as he always was and always will be. Our Lord is coming back here, and when that day comes, old Mel will be ready! That's what life is all about!”

  “I'd like to go to your church, Mel. Where is it?”

  “What did Jesus say, Cornelius? A wise man builds his house upon the rock! A wise man of his Word, he is!”

  “Mel, I ask you, why don't men of science go along with and accept Gods Word.? Is God against science and learning? A preacher once told me that man should not go to the moon. Is the Space Station evil?”

  “God loves learning, Cornelius! God created science! True science, true wisdom, the true church, they are always on the same page. Guess what? God already knows the answer! No, the Space station itself is not evil. It's even a good idea. But realize that Satan will try to hitch a ride. He was thrown down and imprisoned here on Earth. Also, if ungodly men build something to confront God's law with; be it the Titanic or a Space station, what happens? Read the book of Job. The angel is hitching a ride! Whatever God does, the angel will try to steal, destroy or counterfeit.”

  “What about this gnat preserve, Mel?” I asked. Is Madame Secretary crazy and why do most people seem to be blind to the obvious truth or...well...stupid, Mel?”

  “The Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom” he replied. “She has no fear of God. These people have false religions, false gods and ungodly priests. I am a servant, as you are, Cornelius. You and I are both flesh, and both men. I am of another flock, in another season. These seasons are defined and controlled by God. Your giant is of God's world, not flesh. He fights battles for you everyday. The scope of God is too massive, too complex for us to understand. But by His grace, God has allowed our seasons to overlap. And your giant is very nice!”

  “You mean God is so powerful that each man has a giant? Wow! Who could ever fight against God?”

  “What you call science is often not science at all.” he explained. “Look at those gnat nuts for example. They are all false priests. They have been against space travel all along. These same false priests killed the American Space Program, Cornelius.”

  “How is that?”

  He took another sip of wine and started again. “Do you remember the shuttle explosions and shuttles burning up on reentry?”

  “Sure I do”

  “That is a good example of false religion taking control away from true science. The insulating foam kept falling off the main fuel tank only AFTER NASA was forced to change the glue. The shuttle worked just fine for years with the original glue. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure this out. Humanist priests, an ungodly religion calling themselves environmentalists, took control. They forced NASA to stop using a powerful model airplane glue mixed with super glue and forced them to use an Elmer's “kid safe' glue instead to save the gnats in the everglades. Everybody knew the foam would fall off and very likely destroy the shuttle, but the REAL scientists were not in control anymore. False religion now rules America and lies are most often believed, false data, nonsense theories and dishonesty is the mainstream. This rebellion against God against his will, his works, his wind, and against his Holy Bible now leads America toward poverty and death!”

  “You do know my giant, Mel! That sounds just like him!”

  “How many times in your last century has dishonest, false science fooled everybody with fraud, lies and deceit?” Mel asked me. “Darwin proved right, the missing link found, or global warming proved with new data? Then, shortly later, in small print, the true facts are told. Both of those theories are laughably insane and believed only by false religion, not science. The false religion of humanism, or 'man is good; evolving into a god' and not needing a redeemer. Beware this is all work of the dark angel. The very words he spoke in the Garden of Eden to Eve. Cornelius, all of Psychology is false science. Their over-selling of dangerous drugs and excusing ungodliness in treating depression and the massive drugging of school kids today is just as sick as any ancient pagan, primitive culture of medicine men. Science has lost, not gained, ground in many areas. This is a crime against the congregation. Money is always spent on worthless and harmful medicine just to make the medicine men wealthy. Every ten years or so, a real, honest scientist does test these drugs, and these invented diseases. Yes, most doctors know that no anti-depression medicine ever prescribed has ever beat mild exercise for effectiveness in any double blind study. What does the Holy Bible say? Yes, that even the profit of exercise is small.” Mel took off his hat and popped it with his fist! “Listen, carefully, Cornelius. You seem to focus on world leaders; remember this fact. The king is never the root. They come in pairs, always with a false front. The leader or king has a priest behind him. Very near or beside this priest hides the great angel, evil works as of a mirror; a copy of the ways of God! Let's say Moses and Aaron of God. In this world, it would be President Osoma and Pastor Wright. Always look for the hidden priest, Cornelius. We fight not against flesh and blood. Nor do we live just for our own short season. We fight against municipalities and power of a hidden, larger world. Be not fooled!”

  “Mel, please, what about the number twenty-six and the circle of fifths? I don't get all that math stuff.”

  Mel grabbed a pen. “Time is short. I will tell you a story, Cornelius that may help you. I will have to speak fast.”

  “Jesus and his disciples rent a room for dinner. Judas gets there early to pay the man. He brings only thirty pieces of silver with him. A piece of sliver is worth $10.00, so he has $300.00. You like that dollar touch, don't you?” he laughed. “Being the first to get there, the man tells Judas to take a number. He is number one and the menu says $12.00 per person. The disciples were each to bring a guest to meet Jesus. Judas had figured up in his head; $144.00 for the twelve disciples and $144.00 for the guests is $288.00 plus $12.00 for Jesus, a total of thirty pieces of silver.”

  “Now the man tells him to pay a $1.00 cover charge each, plus the $12.00 for the meal. Judas pays the dollar cover charge for himself and is angry. He can not pay the price of the meal for himself or his guest (the devil). The disciples start arriving. Judas tells each of them how much they will owe the treasury. Add up your number and the number of your guest sitting across from you and pay that amount. Jesus, of course, pays his number also. The group piles into the room for dinner. All eager to eat with Jesus
! What is the bill each disciple pays?

  24 23 22 21 20 19 18 17 16 15 14

  13

  2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

  “Jesus is King, number 13. The bill is always $26.00, the center ball or sphere. Twelve disciples are the twelve points around the center. A deck of cards is a mockery, a reflection or imitation of the ways of God; the creation of God!”

  “Balls, Mel? Go over that part!”

  “Ok” said Mel. Mel uses seven olives left on the platter. “Take a billiard ball and set it on the pool table. Now place six around it. Just like the straws of the Space Station, these balls will always form a 'perfect' seven with one ball at perfect center. Now, cover the perfect center ball with more balls. This will take three on the top and three on the bottom. It will always take twelve balls to perfectly surround the center ball. Only one can be King! Look around your world, Cornelius. Why did they get rid of the thirteenth month in the calendar? Look at the clock, the zodiac. Don't be fooled, Cornelius! We don't have time to build the pyramids with balls. Quickly now! Add up the numbers one by one across the table. For example 2+4+2=8 and 2+3+3=8. Note always eight, the number for money. Now add in the bill amount; 26. When the bill is paid, the numbers now add up to seven! The perfect number! 2+4+2=8+2=10+6=16=7. Praise God our bill has been paid, Cornelius! Remember, only one head; only one king, only one way. Goodbye for now, Cornelius. Your own season awaits you! Beware, Cornelius!”

  The sound of the osprey craft coming again to the high rock could be heard in the distance. We both prayed once again. When I opened my eyes, I was once again alone. My wine and tray of cheese sticks were also gone. Thank you Lord for sending this man Mel across the seasons, so that he could teach me. I know I'm not very smart or very good, Amen. I could hear my giant laughing and saying, 'You speak the truth, Cornelius! His laughter echoed across the rock as the osprey craft landed again in a cloud of dust.

 

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