Friday, March 25, 2011

Jesus Murphy: Blog Story (10)

- Chapter 10 -
On The Road

The sky was sparkling bright with stars the first night they hit the road. Jesus was struggling to fall asleep in his twisted uncomfortable position. It wasn't easy catching z's in the back of a pick up truck. They had managed to sell their previous sedan and were fortunate enough to stumble upon this '93 Ford Ranger. Martin had driven south most of the day. They finally decided to sleep a bit before heading on the road again.

Their location was a rundown truck-stop diner. They had gotten a quick bite to eat, borrowed the showering facility and then nestled the best they could in the cab of the Ranger. Jesus was twisting and turning, trying to position himself comfortably. He knew Martin was awake, making sure Jesus would fall asleep first. Images of his girlfriend, Joan Archer, were running through his mind.

He had barely spoken all day, still angered by their sudden departure. Jesus knew the consequences of staying there, he simply couldn't grasp why he had to be the one to lead this life. He hadn't asked to be leader of a unknown mission twisted with secrets and deception. He simply wanted to lead a normal life. God had chosen a different path for him, though.

He was playing around with his hands, lighting the tips of his fingers and removing the rust on the small patch of metal that had been welded in the corner of the cab. He had first learned of this special ability when helping a man back in his hometown, the same town they were heading to. The villagers, those who had learned of what Jesus had done, had decided to scare them out of town.

This news of a kid with special powers took flight with no looking back. Soon media reporters from around the world were beckoning. People wanted to meet the boy who could heal the world. Martin was upset about this, frightened even. He knew this would finally attract the opposition he always feared: The Sacarii.

They were an elite cadre of assassins, hell bent on proving destiny was in their hands, and not the other way around. They had been following them since Jesus' birth and adoption in the hands of Martin Christ.

Their leader and members were unknown to the Agency, the group that was helping and protecting Jesus.
Those two groups had been at war for centuries, and it came at no surprise to Martin when he eventually learned of their goals to twart the prophecy.

He was thinking about just that when Jesus finally spoke, for the first time that christmas day.

"You promised you would tell me the name of the prophetess who predicted what I would become, what I would do. You promised me to tell me the truth on my sixteenth birthday," Jesus said, turning over to face Martin, "You promised to tell me everything"

"And that is something I regret, Jesus." Martin's voice trailed off, a slight lump passing visibly down his throat. If the trucks weren't rolling into the diner's parking lot, Jesus would have heard the gulp of Martin's harsh swallow. "Telling you will only put you in more danger then you already are."

"Isn't it my right to know this? I have been in the dark most of my life. Finally I have the chance to know more about myself, about what I am suppose to do"

"If I tell you, you will spend your days trying to find her. I don't want you putting your life at risk, Jesus."

Jesus processed what his uncle had just said. He wanted to know the truth for once. He wanted the name of the women who predicted his final mission. She was the key to ending all of this, to make things right, to tell him that this was all a lie, a dream, that we would wake up and be a normal boy. She was the answer to life.

"It has already happened, dad. Prophecy. Destiny. I am suppose to do this as predicted by a seer. It basically happened already, nothing we do will change that. Maybe you were suppose to tell me. Maybe i'm suppose to visit her." Jesus pleaded, getting up from his resting position and looking out at the stars. It was warm in the south, something Jesus wasn't use to on Christmas day. On his birthday.

"Thinking like that will only get you killed. A prophecy is only as good as it's key players. Be humble, Jesus. You'll appreciate me hiding this information from you in the long run."

"Doesn't matter. I die anyways." Jesus grunted, a distinct finality in his tone. He was done for the night, and showed this by turning over and closing his eyes. "Goodnight, Martin"

2 comments:

  1. Just sat reading some of your posts, You deserve an audience. Keep going, good luck.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you Ken! I'm quite fond of this blog world, where people can share such amazing ideas. Your postings are incredible, btw!

    ReplyDelete

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