Traveller - L.W. Samuelson (free e books to read online TXT) 📗

but it was funny so he joined him.
“Man, you silly be all smoking’ that wacky tobacco,” Willy said.
“Want some?” Jesse asked.
“Hell no.”
“How ‘bout you Traveller. Jesus and his followers used to smoke it,” Jesse asserted.
“No they didn’t,” said Tim. “What makes you say that?”
“Haven’t you ever read or heard those stories about Jesus changing water to wine and bread falling from the sky? You think those people weren’t on something? Had to be marijuana,” Jesse replied handing the joint to Traveller who had just gotten another beer.
“There is nothing in the Bible that says they were smoking grass,” Tim said incredulously as he watched Traveller take a hit and choke.
“Man, the priests edited that part out when they wrote the Bible,” Jesse said.
“You’re full of it,” Tim said handing the joint back to Traveller without taking a hit. This time the alien took a deep drag on the reefer holding it in.
“Oh wow man, that’s cosmic,” he said when he realized a rush on his third hit.
Jesse and Tim lost it. They laughed so hard that they fell backward over the logs they were sitting on. “Can, can you imagine smoking a joint with Jesus?” Jesse said. “He’d look at you and say, I’m just making all this stuff up so I can be famous and scare the hell out of little kids if they don‘t behave.”
“No he wouldn’t,” Tim said searching the sky for lightning. “You’re going to go to Hell!”
“What? Jesus can’t take a joke? That’s the trouble with church. It’s all hell and damnation without a trace of humor,” Jesse complained. “What do you think, Travis? I’ve seen you reading the Bible more than once.”
By now, Traveller had taken several puffs off of the joint. “What? What do I think about what?”
“Jesus,” Jesse said.
“Which version? There are four of them, man.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mathew, John, Luke and Paul. Each of the four gospels paints a different picture of Jesus,” Traveller answered. “That tells me they were written at different times by different people.”
“So what do you think about any of it?” Tim asked.
“I think that the Bible is so nebulous, vague, and archaic that it’s subject to misinterpretation. That’s why there are countless denominations, all professing to be Christian. I think that when Jesus is reputed to have said that no one comes to the father but through me, it’s really the priests setting themselves up to be demigods. A lot of Christ’s teachings are similar to Buddhism, a much older religion. I think Jesus might be a white man’s Buddha.
“I mean really man, why didn’t Jesus visit Benwar or for that matter China or India? Why were white Anglo-Saxons the only one to receive the message? It seems to me that all Christianity does is make people feel superior and judgmental. What do you think Willy?”
“Jesus is just all right with me. He healed the sick and lame, fed the poor. Jesus told people not to judge others that that was God’s job. I love my Jesus. He wash my sins away, make me whole again. Somebody don’t want to believe in him that’s their problem,” Willy said.
“Jesus certainly wasn’t a pot smoking hippy. I believe in him too,” Tim said.
“I can’t feel it,” said Jesse.
“Never came to my planet,” said Traveller, “but if he would have, I would have shared this joint with him.”
Tim, Jesse, and Traveller laughed maniacally. Willy shook his head, “You silly asses. I brought some Bratwursts. Maybe if I cook ‘em up and eat you guys’ll come to your senses.”
Willy had the cooler on the endgate of the scout. He took the Brats out and double-wrapped them in tinfoil. “Man, these gonna be so good maybe you see Jesus, Jesse. Then maybe y’all wake up and see the light of the Lord.” Willy placed the wrapped Brats in some coals on the outskirts of the fire.
“Do you really think he walked on water Willy?” Traveller asked.
“Does it matter? He’all tried to bring us closer to God, tried to get us to be kind to one another.”
Jesse came over to Willy and threw his arms around him, “I love you man!” Jesse joked.
“Stinkin’ Jesse,” Willy said pushing him away. “Go drink your beer on the other side of the fire. Leave me alone for I stick a hot Brat where the sun don’t shine. Every thing a joke with you.”
“I refuse to take life seriously. It’s just too damned depressing. ‘Wailing and teeth gnashing did he promise us, the laughing ones,’ Frederick Nieztche wrote that about Jesus.”
“Whoa! Jesse knows a quote by Nieztche. We know where he learned that,” Tim said.
“Why are we talking about Jesus anyway? It’s spring break, time to laugh and have fun,” Jesse said.
“Stupid Jesse. You brought it up,” said Tim.
The smell of cooking sausages filled the air causing four mouths to water in anticipation. Willy opened the tin foil a crack to see if they were done before using a shovel to remove them from the coals. He placed the wraps on the endgate. “I know how to get you heathens to shut up. Feed you some sausage. I made potato salad, too. There’s potato chips here. Come and get it.”
Jesse and Tim fixed their plates slathering the Brats resting in their buns with catsup and mustard. They piled their plates high with chips and salad then returned to the fire.
“You gonna eat Travis?” asked Willy.
“Yeah, I’ll get a plate in a minute. Let me finish my beer,” he said.
“I’ll fix you one Bro’,” Willy said.
A minute later, he handed Traveller a plate. The alien had never eaten Bratwurst or been afflicted with a camping appetite or been high with the munchies. When he bit into the sausage, the flavor exploded inside his mouth, but it was more than the smoky taste that made the Brats so good, it was the texture of the outer skin crunching as he chewed along with the sweet catsup and tangy mustard that made them acroluminous. These things are acroluminous! By the universe, how did I come to be sitting by a fire in the middle of nowhere with three human beings eating sausage? he thought. He took another bite. This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted! It’s all a dream. I know I’m going to wake up and be back on Ship.
Traveller was so captivated by the Bratwurst and his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Willy sat down beside him on the log. “You okay, Bro’?” Willy asked.
“I know where the heaven you guys are always talking about is now. It’s right here by the fire eating the wonderful food you have cooked. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, man”
“Does that mean you like it?” asked Jesse.
“It is acroluminous, man!”
“Try the potato salad,” Jesse said with his mouth full of it. A small piece of pickle clung to his lip.
Traveller took up his spoon. He captured some salad then closed his mouth around it. Jesse watched the look of pleasure spread across Traveller’s face as he chewed. Suddenly his alien friend exclaimed, “Say Jesus! Say Jesus with me one time!”
His friends quickly put their food down then looked at each other for timing and exclaimed, “Jesus!”
“Say it again. Jesus!” Traveller said now that he was in the evangelical mood.
“Jesus!” his friends responded.
“One more time. Jesus!”
“Jesus!” everyone yelled again.
“The spirit of the food moved me,” Traveller said in his best Jimmy Swaggart voice. A man that was often on TV Sunday mornings. Even Willy, the most serious about Jesus, laughed at his joke.
“Man, I be going to Hell with all the rest of ya’,” he said.
“Brother, there is something seriously wrong with your God or Jesus if you are condemned to Hell for what you believe in. The priests just slipped that part in to make people obey their authority and pay their tithe. So I say you’re my friends because you treat me right. Can I hear you say it with me one time?” Traveller preached, looking every bit like the crying, cajoling Swaggart.
“You’re my friends because you treat me right,” his friends repeated.
“Now I’m not going to ask you what you believe before I ask you if you’re hungry,” alien Swaggart said waiting for the echo from his congregation and when it came he continued. “Not going to check what color you are or what planet you’re from before I ask you if your thirsty, or tired, or cold, or sick,” again Traveller paused waiting for the response. This time the line was too long for them to be in unison and they didn’t say it loud enough to please Brother Swaggart so he raised his hands to the heavens with his eyes closed and tears streaming.
“Give them the strength to remember their lines dear God,” he implored the heavens.
“I said, ‘Not going to check what color you are before I ask you if you’re thirsty’,” Traveller said shrewdly shortening the line so his followers could yell it to perfection. When they did he said, “Bless you Jesus!”
Traveller deflated, his demeanor changed as he said quietly, “I’m going to love you because we share the same planet.”
“I’m going to love you because we share the same planet,” Willy and Tim repeated.
“Anyone want a chocolate chip cookie?” Jesse asked causing everyone to laugh. He passed the package around relieved that Jimmy Swaggart had left. He hated money grubbing televangelists.
“Well, we learned something tonight,” Jesse pronounced as everyone ate their cookies.
“What’s that?” asked Tim.
“Travis would make a great pot smoking preacher,” Jesse replied.
“Amen to that. I’m goin’ to bed,” said Willy.
“Yeah, I’m tired too. Some of us have to work for a living,” said Traveller. “Good night.”
Willy and Traveller retired to the tent, each to his own sleeping bag. They fell asleep to the sound of Tim and Jesse drinking beer and giggling.

Chapter 34 - A Race to the Spaceship

Willy was the first one out of bed the next morning. He had a fire burning bright with coffee brewing when Traveller finally came out of the tent. It was nine o’clock.
“Good morning,” Willy said.
“Good morning Bro’.”
“You probably don’t get up much earlier than this, workin’ the swing shift and all.”
“That’s right. I have a feeling we’ll be waiting a while for Tim and Jesse to get out of bed,” Traveller surmised.
“They be partying’ till two in the morning’. Lawd they gonna be hungover,” Willy agreed.
“Stinkin’ Jesse kept passing gas all night,” Traveller complained. “The tent smells like an outhouse. I sure wish Tim hadn’t fed him all that bean dip.”
Willy laughed, “White people smell bad enough as it is, Bro’. Don’t need no help.”
It was another hour and a half before Tim stumbled out of bed. Jesse followed a half hour later. He staggered out with blood shot eyes. His clothes were rumpled from having slept in them. “Man somebody hit me in the head with a sledge hammer,” he complained. “I feel like crap.”
Jesse staggered to the cooler. He got a beer out and opened it. “Here’s to the hair of the dog. Beer, the breakfast of champions,” he said guzzling a good portion of it down.
“It’s already late, Jesse. We are going to leave within the half hour so don’t get too carried away,” Traveller cautioned.
“Yes Mama Alien,” Jesse quipped.
“Tell you what smart boy; we’ll race you two to the ship. The minorities against the white boys,” Willy said.
“Travis isn’t a minority,” Jesse said.
“I am the smallest minority on