J. C. Jones V - Let us Eat

“Oh, no, no, no, not this time,” said J. C. “Everyone! Get yourselves to the other side of the table. Mary? You slide closer to me. Judas? Front and center where I can see you.”

“Ah, jeez,” said Judas. “That was so long ago. Let it go already. And what’s she doing here?”

“Mary’s my soul mate.”

“Aw, back at ya, J. C.,” said Mary.

“I don’t remember her at our last stag party,” said John. “You sure about this?”

“No. But da Vinci seemed to think so. I saw the painting, John, and I didn’t remember you looking that pretty. da Vinci was being kind—or looking to screw with future scholars. But it got me thinking, so I added a thirteenth disciple for the occasion. And I’d like to thank you all for showing up at my new flat for my first—and hoping not the last—supper.”

“What choice did we have?” said John “Your Old Man hustled us out the gate like fallen angels on a bender. But why bring us back now?”

“I need your help. But first . . . you have to try these bagels while they’re still warm. And don’t forget the lox and cream cheese.”

“Lox?” said Simon.

“Don’t worry. It’s a clean fish. First you give the bagel a good smear.”

“Smear?”

“With the cream cheese. Than you lay a slice of salmon on top. It’s downright sinful. But don’t worry, it’s blessed. So chow down. They’ll be no smiting of sinners tonight. Not at this table.”

“Never mind the bagels,” said Bartholomew. “Where’s the wine?”

“No wine,” said J. C. “ The world’s in a deep dung heap, and in want of a perky savior. One who will get their brainwaves humming again. Coffee’s the new blood. Bagels the body.”

“You might want to lay off the bagels, chief. Your tunic looks a might stressed.”

“Excuse me, J. C.,” said Mary. “There’s someone pounding at the door.”

“Let ‘em pound. Let it not spoil our joy.”

“Law enforcement! Open up! We’ve got a warrant!”

“Judas . . . ?” said J. C.

“Don’t look at me, chief. I already hung myself over the first one. My neck can only take so much.”

At that moment the door came off its hinges and an army of I.C.E. agents barged in.

“Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents. We’ve got an arrest warrant for one J. C. Jones. Who might that be?”

Twelve shakey fingers pointed the way to the savior.

“Fellas!” said J. C.

An ICE agent pulled J. C. from his seat and with a sheepish grin said, “I’m only following orders, sir. I’m a Christian myself and have to say what an honor it is to meet you. I’ve seen all the movies, and you really don’t look anything like—“

“Yeah, I know. I don’t look anything like my pictures. What’s the problem? My dark skin? My wooly hair? Just what do people think I should look like?”

“Jeffery Hunter,” said a second agent. “Damn, you were so pretty in that movie. It’s one of the reasons I became a Christian.”

“I always liked it best when you looked like Max von Sydow,” said a third agent. “Such sorrowful blue eyes. My dad had the Greatest Story Ever Told movie poster on our basement wall all through my youth. It looked so cool next to Raquel Welch's One Million Years B. C. poster. I found it all so sexually confusing as a young girl.”

“What planet am I on?” said J. C. “And why am I being arrested? For not looking like Jeffrey Hunter?”

“Well, to be honest, yes,” said the first agent. “Your look does not blend well with the American fabric. But it sure makes my job easier.  I could have spotted you a mile off. And just who are these other people? And where are they from?”

“Mostly in and around the Sea of Galilee,” said John. “But that was the old days. These days it’s the Kingdom of Heaven.”

“That better be a city in the USA.”

“The Kingdom of Heaven? Ha. No. It’s a world away and quite easy to get to if your soulful enough. It would make a wonderful 51st. state. I heard you people are looking.”

“I’ll need some identification. Passports, driver’s license, birth certificates.”

“Sorry, no. We’re all in the Bible, though, if that helps.”

“Very funny,” said the agent. “Now, on your feet. Everyone! And drop those bagels!”

“Hey, wait a minute,” said the second agent. “Where’d all the people go? They just vanished.”

***

J. C. and crew sat back, watching as the bewildered agents struggled with what had occurred.

The struggle didn’t last long.

“They’re eating our bagels,” said Simon.

“And drinking the coffee,” said John.

“That’s okay,” said J. C. “I’ve put in a request with the Old Man to have all future arrest warrants go up in smoke when shown. It won’t solve the issue, but we can’t all lose our sense of humor. I’ve still hope for these people. My job is only beginning. And if anyone of you ever points a finger at me again they will spend forty days and forty nights in a cave with Satan himself.”

“Not the one with the red hat?”

“Just try me,” said J. C. “Just you go ahead and try me.”

 

 

Picture courtesy of Wik Commons; 

https://www.abctales.com/story/hudsonmoon/j-c-jones-v-let-us-eat