Was I Talking To An Angel?

By Author: Tim Mack
Total Articles: 12
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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 exsisted. 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 suite. "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 her 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 Presidents 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 relegious music. At first, the only one there that made any sense to me was the girls 12 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 vistor book his face turned flush white as he said "that guy worked here, but he's been dead for 15 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/