Christian+P

=Erroneous Emancipation=

Serendipity The blonde haired woman seductively sauntered up to the enclosed captain’s cabin, slowly crept in; closing the door behind her, she turned to the lone man sitting in the left chair, arms crossed, hat covering his face. She grinned to herself at his current helplessness and let herself savour the moment; the idea of her having power over the oh so many people on this plane right now pleased her. As she approached him in rhythm with the clang of the hard set rain slamming against the top of the aircraft, she reached into her jacket, and from it came a silver gleaming revolver, six shots for one man. She knew in her bloodlust she would probably end up using all six, but she did not mind, as long as this man died…as long as this man died, she did not care what happened to her or anybody else. Jesus sat head in his lap on the toilet of the plane’s restroom pondering his current situation frightfully; he did not know how it worked, only that he could be found out at any time. No, he knew they were already suspicious of him, his passport seemed different from the others, and he knew his saving grace had been sole fact that the plane was heading out with god’s speed trying to evade the storm heading south-west towards the airport. Just as his resolve was coming to an end, he heard an ear piercing sound. Jesus was no stranger to the sound of gunfire, so he covered his ears and tried to hide under the sink of the restroom but was sent flying into the back of the restroom by an unknown force… except he never hit the back of the restroom. Jesus was awoken abruptly when he was wrenched out of the shallow water by his drenched collar and into the air. His eyes opened slowly to the image of a mammoth of a man with unkempt hair and pale skin. “Well, would you look at that, this beaner’s alive.” The man’s voice thundered and resonated in Jesus’ skull and he groaned in pain. He started to become aware of his body. Everything hurt, but worse than that he had no memory of where he was, how he got there or who this man was. He looked up at the hulk of a man staring down at him, a hard face with a stern look showed him right away this man was in charge; but Jesus didn’t mind, actually he preferred to be told what to do, it gave him peace of mind knowing that as long as he completed what he was told, it was not him that was in the wrong when things went awry. He stared at the man with a perplexed look on his face, and the giant let out a sigh. “Well, I guess we ain’t got no choice but to stick together seeing as we don’t know anything about this place, and them damn sand people coming back for more .” He muttered a few more unrecognizable phrases under his breath but it wasn’t hard for Jesus to guess that they were probably some racial comments about people from the Middle East. “Umm, I don’t quite follow. What are you talking about? Where are we, how did we g-,” “That damn crash must’ve hit you harder than it did me, say how’d you survive the crash but don’t know a single thing about how we got here, you a caveman ‘r something living here before that plane came,” his loud voice came down to a soft pianissimo, “Naw that can’t be it you don’t look the part, must’ve taken a hit to the noggin, yeah that’s it, a hit to noggin.” He gestured his fist hitting his head and then stared down at Jesus, “ Guess if you still can’t remember I might as well tell you, we were on a plane flyin ‘bout up North and then I fell asleep. Wake up to gunshots then a big boom and half the planes gone, a bomb of some sort. Well, and you get the idea from there, we’re the lucky ones, we got enough stamina to make it to this here island.” At that Jesus’ memories came flooding back and he remembered how he boarded the plane, using his fake passport and sitting in the restroom and then… that’s it, he must’ve had fate or god or something on his side for him to float on his back all the way to this island unconscious. He looked up at the burly man and smiled, he knew his current predicament, he understood the tragic loss of life that had occurred during that plane crash but he couldn’t help but grin at the fact that he was free, no more running, no hiding, no more sleepless nights in fear of the American authorities, no more drug deals or hard labour to get enough money to pay for his next meal. America, the land of the free, he smirked to himself and laughed, if only the free would share their freedom with others he thought. “What’re you grinning for, don’t ya get it, we don’t know where we are, we don’t got no food or water and it’s freezing out here on top of that.” All Jesus could do was smile wider at that, they don’t know where they are and neither does anyone else.

Ruminating a Renaissance The man reached down with his bowling ball like hand to help Jesus up; as soon as they clasped hands he was wrenched up into the air, stumbled onto his feet, wavered flailing his arms about for but a second, and then fell face first back into the moist grains of sand. He groaned as he slowly picked himself up, warm blood flowing freely out his nose. “Atta boy shake it off, didn’ mean to pull so hard, you’re just so light, that’s all,” the giant exclaimed as he slammed one of his massive paws onto Jesus’ back almost causing him to fall over again. “So, what’s yer name?” The man inquired as he stuck his head out towards Jesus and raised an eyebrow. Dusting himself off Jesus replied, “My name is Jesus, Jesus Patel.” “Hmm, Hey-Zeus eh; that’s a beaner name if I ever heard one.” “No, not hey Zeus, it’s Hey-Seus, like the famous doctor I always hear you white people talking about.” “Well okay then, Dr. Seus, my name’s Bill, nice to make your acquaintance.” Bill pronounced his name with pride, as if it were original. He looked around in all directions using his hand to block the sun and then back to Jesus, “Well what d’ya suppose we should do Doc: Wanna have a walk along the shore with your good buddy Bill, see if we can find anybody else round here?” He postulated, grinning at Jesus’ new nickname. “Alright let’s get going then. I want to see if anyone has any food around here, I’m starved.” Jesus let out a sigh as he trudged in the general direction of Bill and for the first time really took in his surroundings, the vast expanse of Blue Ocean, the rocky cliffs, and the foreboding foresr of towering trees emitting all sorts of sounds he had not noticed until just now. They all lay right before him, and he stared for a moment and then hurried down the beach to catch up with Bill. The giants strides were almost twice that of Jesus’, he had to quicken his pace every 10 seconds for 5 seconds so he would not fall far behind. It was not long before they came upon a dark haired woman, sifting sand through her hands and shuffling about on her knees, “ Hey there lassie,” Bill called, “whatcha lookin’ for?” She turned to Bill, held his gaze for a moment and then went back to sifting through the sand. To Jesus’ surprise Bill did not get angry, he did not ask again, he just stood quietly and waited patiently for her to respond. After a few more seconds, with no avail, she threw her hands into the sand and replied “I had a carry-on bag with very important stem cell research samples; I was hoping a vial survived and washed up, I’ve been searching all day.” “ Well miss, I’ll tell you right now, I ain’t getting down in the sand to help look for something dumb as that, but maybe if you ask him nicely, The Doc over here will help you out.” Bill stated pointing to Jesus. “No, no, I don’t need them anyways, it’s quite a shame to lose them, but the chance is so small and I don’t even have a clue where we are, do you?” she asked inquisitively “Nope, I haven’t the slightest idea, me n’ Doc just decided we should go have a look around the beach, see If we could find anybody else.” Bill responded slowly walking off, towards the ocean, hand shielding his face from the reflection of the sun on the water. “The sun’s gunna set pretty soon and it’s freezing here as is, it’s like we can see the sun but don’t get no heat from it.” Bill announced “Well we are on the beach, maybe, just for tonight, we should head into the forest and find a place to rest until they come around searching for us in the morning.” The dark haired woman advised. “Sounds all right to me, how about you Doc, you good with that?” Bill menacingly articulated. “That sound fine to me too, I’ll go look for some brush and broken logs to make a small shelter out of, how about you.” “My gramps showed me how to make a fire with just sweat and strength but I never thought it would come in handy, I’ll give it a go. And you little lady can help me collect what I need, try and find dried mosses and twigs to start and then… The list trailed on but faded into the background as Jesus walked away into the solitude of the forest and yet again he couldn’t help but grin at the thought of freedom, he started on his task and was almost done when the blue sky turned black, he thought of himself as a colonist, come from Spain, he didn’t know why, but the thought of living off the land with these people, no one to bother them, it intrigued him. He stumbled back into their new found camp to find Bill sweating profusely over a bundle of sticks and moss with the dark haired woman encouraging him, Jesus turned and placed the last pieces of the shelter into their spots, laid down under it and was soon fast asleep, dreaming of the life that was to come.

Culmination Jesus awoke to the crackling of the dying fire; he was amazed that Bill had actually managed to produce it with nothing but sticks and moral support; he had a newfound respect for the man. He drowsily picked himself up only to hit his head on the top of the low lying shelter. “Jesus, that hurt,” Jesus muttered. “Your own fault isn’t it; I mean you are the one who built it,” Bill stated half-heartedly, staring off to the shore. Jesus thought something was a bit off with him; it seemed to Jesus he was probably just deep in thought, so it would best to just leave it be. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It is my own fault, isn’t it?” Jesus enquired rhetorically. He sat and stared at the dimming fire for who knows how long until the dark haired girl from yesterday entered the camp with another woman on her back, “I found her unconscious on the beach when I scoured the beach for anything useful, she also… had a gun on her.” She explained, her voice was in a decrescendo as she told them about the weapon she had found on the woman “Lemme have a look at that. Give it here Emily,” Bill demanded as he reached out with one of his giant paws. So that was her name thought Jesus, Emily. He glanced at her for a second and found it to be a fitting name, satisfied he brought his attention back to the unconscious woman sprawled out on the ground in front of him. “Well, she’s breathing; I doubt she would still be unconscious from the crash, so I don’t know why she hasn’t woken up yet,” Bill reported “She could be dehydrated or over tired; we should try and get some water into her system,” Emily responded, eyes not wavering from the woman “What I really wanna know is: Why she had a gun, and how she got it on the plane.” Bill exclaimed angrily, he was piecing together the crash in his mind, he knew it was this woman’s fault. Jesus had also come to the conclusion that the plane crash must’ve been this woman’s fault, but that was all the more reason for him to worship her, she had freed him from that lie they call society. Without a word, he stood up and franticly searched for a fresh water source realizing his own thirst for the first time. Finally he gave up on his search for a fresh water source and moped back to camp where, to his surprise, the woman was awake. He stopped dead and stared at her for a second before she looked up at him and smiled for a moment before returning to her conversation with Emily. “Her names Mary apparently, and she claims that the gun isn’t hers and neither is the jacket we found it in.” Bill explained as he noticed Jesus’ inquisitive stare “And you believe that?” Jesus questioned “Well it doesn’t really matter if I do or if I don’t, we’ve gotta stick together until we get rescued and we’ll leave the crash to whoever wants to figure out how it happened, but as for me, I couldn’t care less than I do right now as to how it happened.” Bill replied sighing deeply, “What I need is a drink, what I’d do for a drink right now.” Jesus glanced at the two women talking again and smiled to himself, his dream was coming true, and the stage was set. The day passed quickly as they searched for the basic necessities such as water and food, Jesus found himself doing most of the grunt work, he was the one who climbed the trees and carried their reward while the others just walked and searched, and yet, he felt fulfilled with these menial tasks. He worked with renewed vigor whenever he saw Mary glance at him, sub-consciously seeking her approval, he knew why, but whatever was left of the rational side of his brain was telling him: She is not a goddess, she is not an angel sent to free you from the evils of society, she is not here to save you and rebuild a pure, fair world with these people; but in the back of his mind, he believed every word of it, he had to, otherwise he was right and the world was just as corrupt as he had thought. The plane didn’t crash due to a terrorist attack, it was God, he knew it, and he could feel it. They took turns that night keeping the fire going and Jesus was awoken in the middle of the night… but he was not awake, an angel came to him and told him, “Jesus you have been chosen, a boat is going to come to return you to the world of evil, but that world is to be destroyed, Satan is going to take over and Chaos will reign. You are to take Mary to the cliffs near the shore, and jump; together you will be taken to a new world, where you will create a true society, where everyone is truly equal. Jesus awoke and felt reborn, all of his rational thoughts had been demolished, Bill looked at him as he sprung up, “You must have some kind of six sense there Doc, did you sense the rescue ship or something with them beaner powers of yours?” Bill jested in good spirits. Jesus did not respond, it was even more urgent now that they were about to be rescued, he grabbed Mary and threw her over his shoulder. Sprinting as fast as he could he run through the brush and to the incline that brought him to the top of the cliffs. Ignoring Mary’s cries of protest he readjusted her position over his shoulder and leapt off the edge grinning manically until he was ferociously ripped back into reality and came to the realization that he was about to die. In a last attempt at self-preservation Jesus spun himself so that he would land on top of Mary, and then it was over. Bill stood in the camp, dumfounded at the prospect of what just happened, he sighed as he realized he took Jesus’ silence too lightly, the man was crazy and he didn’t do anything to stop him. Emily was looking up at him, eyes wide, “You wait here, I’ll go have a peek.” As Jesus lay, unable to move, tears streamed freely down his face as he realized just what he had done. He lay face down and could not move, he cried louder as the tide started to come in and flow past his cheek slowly rising up to the point he could barely breath and so, with nothing else to hang on to he closed his eyes and imaged the new world he would live in and once again a small grin of contentment came across his face as he was, again, believing his own delusions. Bill stood looking down on the now paraplegic man lying face down gasping for air and his face disfigured in disgust. “Come on Emily let’s go home.”