Chapter 27 - Pass the Armageddon Applesauce Please

As I drove down the road toward town, I decided it might be fun to turn on the radio and see what the world had to say about the Rapture. Harley must have installed a new antenna, too, because the radio sounded better than ever. Of course, it might have been because all the crap that used to be floating in the air waves, like military nonsense, was no longer there. I hit my favorite country station just in time to catch the hourly news report.

"Reports from around the globe all say pretty much the same thing today. People everywhere have stopped going to work and are spending their time doing good deeds. Everyone seems to be pooling their resources and taking care of each other. Some people are beginning to worry that this may be the end of civilization as we know it. With all the brotherly love evident, there will be no more need for governments and other institutions. Some of the brightest minds of each country will be meeting next week to help lay plans for the near future and to discuss the best way for all of what's left of Mankind to band together in peace and follow the directives left by G.O.D..

There are still some isolated factions who refuse to believe the Rapture has occurred and that it was all some plot by the European Common Market to diffuse all governments and take over the world. And there are those religious leaders who claim that this was not the real rapture or they and their followers would be taken. The Jews of the world have however recanted their long standing disbelief of Christ as the messiah. They claim that if G.O.D. had been a little clearer 2000 years ago the mistake wouldn't have been made."

This really made me chuckle. If they only knew who was really behind it, they would all be at each other's throats again. Even though Merlin had said only the really good ones were left behind, I personally found it hard to believe that all the sheisters of the world were gone. I figured they were just lying low until they could figure out a way to make a profit.

The news reporter continued in a bored monotone. "Computers around the world are having trouble keeping up with the mass of information being downloaded from somewhere out in space. One can only assume it's coming from Heaven. Cures for every major disease have been verified, including AIDS and cancer. The technological information and schematics for space rocket, engines, environmental cleaning apparatus, and other advanced machinery are astounding.

Unconfirmed, are rumors that the data necessary to build anti-gravity machines and perform instantaneous breast enlargement surgery, without side effects, is also available."

This last piece of information made me sure that Merlin had one hell of a sense of humor and that he was sending me a final goodbye gift.

"Turning to the weather, it is, of course, perfect. The downpours of brown dirt that were reported around the globe yesterday have finally ceased and the forecast for the rest of the week is clear and sunny. We now have confirmed reports that the falling dirt was actually grade "A" manure blended perfectly with top soil. The mix has proven to be sterilized and weed free. Scientists have yet to find an explanation, but farmers around the world are joyous at the chance of starting out with a clean slate. "

I wasn't hearing anything I didn't already know, so I decided to flip around the stations and try to find some good tunes. It seemed like forever since I'd heard some Hank Williams or Kenny, twanging at my heart strings. Hearing a bit of Patsy, my all-time favorite, would have been pure heaven. As I pushed buttons from station to station, all I could find were hymns and gospel music. Maybe some things about this thousand years of peace weren't going to be so great. At least I would be able to hear some good music on the jukebox when I got to the bar.

I had just turned the corner into the side road that led to Kelly's parking when I saw it. My mouth dropped and I closed my eyes, hoping it was a dream. Unfortunately, Harley hadn't made Whitey drive on autopilot, so I almost ran into two work men carrying the large wooden sign before I opened my eyes. They scurried out of my way as I was putting the pick-up into park, but not before I could read the sign.

"HARLEY'S GRILL AND TABERNACLE" was painted in large purple letters, with "Where You Never Have to Pray on an Empty Stomach" in smaller letters below it. The smaller letters also had little silver circles over lights hanging over the lettering. I'll bet that's real bright at night. There were people everywhere, all looking like they had important things to do. Carpenters were building something right outside the front door, and two men were up on the roof, directing the installation of a large red neon cross. Manchester hadn't had this many people visit since the Oklahoma Land Run.

The flashing neon beer signs that had been my beacon on so many hot afternoons were missing from the front window. Even the Bud Frog was gone. (He is, uh, was, my favorite). Now the windows were covered with butcher paper. With "Opening Soon" painted on the paper, along with "Under G.O.D.'s Management." Someone had done a rough sketch of Harley on one of them, complete with halo and wings. I stood there and gaped at the window still trying to figure out what was going on, until I noticed my old friends sitting under the tree beside the bar. They were all looking pretty down in the mouth and seemed to be discussing something important. I wanted to know just what the hell was going on around here and they were closest, So I walked over to them, I needed information and time to steel myself for what I might find inside my favorite haunt.

Billy Clyde looked up as I approached and got that mean, I want to fight, look on his face as he spotted me.

"Where the hell have you been, Jordan? You weren't here to help us and now look what's happened. There's not a place for a hundred miles that sells beer anymore. How's a guy supposed to make it through the day without even one little bitty beer? Harley says he'll be serving consecrated wine, but only with communion and you're only allowed to take communion twice a day. He better get bigger glasses for that wine than them thimbles they used to use over at St. Jerome's."

I knew, of course, what had happened to Harley, but I was worried about Kelly. He said once he would never give up the bar. Why, he'd left his wife fourteen years ago, rather than give up the bar and us guys.

"Where's Kelly?" I asked my heart pounding under my shirt. "Has something happened to him?"

This time it was Bubba Dean who groaned and answered. It seemed Billy Clyde had used up all his available energy in his little speech to me.

"He went back to his wife and kids. Can you imagine? Why would a guy give up the high life to return to a battle axe like Edith? He just gave the bar to Harley and walked out."

"Well, what was he going to do with it without beer to sell?" piped in Johnny Ray.

Then they were all silent once again, sitting there with their heads hanging down, like beaten puppy dogs. I didn't think this was the appropriate time to mention the good time I had over the last three days. Or the fact that I was responsible for them losing their bar. Even I can't kick a puppy when it's down, and besides they would have killed me once they found out it was all my fault. I decided to go inside and see if there was anyone in there who could explain this "Grill and Tabernacle" business to me. I also hadn't forgotten my desire to hear a little C & W, and I was looking forward to dropping my quarter in the slot.

I entered the bar, only to be more shocked than when I saw the outside. The whole place had been gutted. The bar, the tables and chairs, and even the pool table, were all gone. The large mirror on the wall behind where the bar used to be had been replaced by a huge wooden cross and some workmen were busy installing what looked like pews, but they had funny little fold-down tables attached to them. They reminded me of my old school desks.. I spotted Eileen talking to a guy in front of what looked like a pulpit and started to walk over to her, until I spotted the only thing that looked familiar. The beloved juke box was still in its usual spot.
I rushed over to my music machine, as I tried to pull a quarter out of those tight jeans I was wearing. Fighting with my pocket, I, of course, tripped and hit the juke box with my forehead as I landed on it. It was okay, as the juke box had withstood far worse on many Friday nights. Not to mention that my head had enough abuse in the last three days to make it invulnerable to anything as weak as glass. This didn't even warrant a, "Damn! That hurts!"

I anxiously dropped my money in the slot and started to push B11. I knew every record on this baby by heart, along with exactly what numbers to push to play my faves. B11 had always been "Crazy," even after Kelly had the records updated back in 98. I don't know what made me look, but for some reason I did. B11 was now "Amazing Grace" by George Jones. I quickly scanned the rest of the selections, only to find everything was now gospel music. The closest thing to anything I would even think about listening to was some very early Amy Grant stuff.

This was too much and I threw my arms around the juke box, laid my head upon it's cool metal housing, and began to sob. My whole world was gone; my bar, my waitresses, my beer, and even Patsy. I wanted to go back and undo everything. I know peace and love are good things, but the G.O.D.s drank beer and listened to real music. Why can't I?

I had only shed a few tears when I felt someone patting my shoulder and heard Eileen's voice by my ear.

"Jordan, my child. What's the matter?"

I stood up, wiped my nose on my shirt sleeve, and faced Eileen. She had what most people would call a serene smile on her face. It reminded me of that look people get when they have been bucked off a horse too many times and are still eager to get back on and do it again. I wasn't in the mood for serene, I wanted to kill something.

"Eileen, I am not your child," I said roughly, "although I know you've always had a hankering to nurse me. Would you please tell me what in tarnation is going on here? I just wanted to hear some good ole fashioned music, but someone has taken all the good stuff off the juke box and replaced it with holy roller tunes."

She kept staring at me with that vacant look, smiling that stupid smile and told me her tale, most of which I already knew.

"Well, Jordan, you missed the most amazing things. Jesus, praise be his name, came and made Harley an Apostle of G.O.D. and married me and Harley. I was never so happy in my whole life. The governor even called us and told Harley that he would get a marriage certificate sent out right away so we wouldn't get in any trouble with taxes and all that. He said that having Jesus, praise be his name, marry you on live t.v. was good enough for him."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm happy for you. But what the hell does that have to do with the bar?"

"Well, after Christ, praise be his name, left, Kelly ran out after me and Harley. He said he had decided to go back to Edith and the kids and Harley could have the bar to do whatever he wanted with. He handed us the keys, jumped into to his truck, and sped off down the road toward Texas. He could have at least paid the four months back due electric bill. Harley called the electric company and said they'd let it slide until after the first luncheon service and collection. Since Harley has been touched with the spirit and all. Jesus, praise be his name, said - "

I couldn't take it any more and interrupted before she could go any further.

"Eileen, his name is Jesus, or Christ, or Jehovah, but not Praise. Get over yourself, already." I wanted to tell her his name was Jordan, but I didn't think she would get the joke.

This only seemed to make matters worse, as she droned on. "It's a real shame you weren't here, Jordan, so you could be touched by the spirit, too. It's okay though, because when you come to our first service, you'll see how things really are. I'll have Harley do some extra preaching and praying for you. If that doesn't work, G.O.D. said it's okay for Harley to use any means available to make those reluctant to follow us fall down on their knees for G.O.D.."

I knew, of course, that this was not what I, er, Jesus, said, but I wasn't going to tell her so. I was beginning to think that I might never be able to tell any of my friends about my adventure. I don't think they could handle it, and it may not be in my best interest.

"Okay, Eileen, but what's with the funny looking pews? And why the stupid, er... I mean interesting name?" I wanted to get her off the Jesus subject, and fast. It was a little bit too much to ask me to keep from correcting her.

"Well, Jordan, the Grill and Tabernacle was Harley's idea. He said the reason people fell asleep in church was because they were hungry and dreaming about Sunday lunch. We're going to include a nice hot meal in the cover charge."

"Uh....cover charge?" I'm not a real good Christian or anything, but I'm pretty sure G.O.D. doesn't want his preachers charging to get into church.

"Jordan, you're so silly sometimes. We have to have some way to pay the bands. Besides, we have limited seating and we have to have some way to control the mobs that will be flocking here."

"Bands? What kind of bands and why?"

"Oh, Jordan, it's so exciting. We've gotten calls from every major music and recording star. The ones that G.O.D. left, that is. Everyone wants to perform at Harley's, since they saw him annointed on t.v. And Harley's only taking a small percentage of the door money. It's the only charitable thing to do. G.O.D. wouldn't want him to be greedy."

I had decided that after living through the Rapture, and even being appointed a Disciple of G.O.D., some people were not going to get it. I could almost hear Merlin saying, "I told you so." It was time for me to leave, before I said something I would regret.

"Well, Eileen, this is all very nice, but I need to get going," I said as I started toward the door.

"Wait, Jordan. Take a look at the menu we are going to have printed. Once you see the great food that we'll have, I know you'll want to come to every service."

I couldn't think of a polite way to say, "I would rather rot in hell with Satan's Demons and a pitchfork up my ass," so I took the piece of paper she was holding out to me and read it. This was just what I needed to put me back in the right frame of mind. It was so funny that I couldn't help but grin. The lucky parishioners at Harley's would have their selection of things like: Holy Mackerel in Divinity Sauce, Heavenly Hot Dogs with Rapture Relish, Jesus Macaroni and Cheese, and Aporkalypse Chops with Armageddon Applesauce.

I handed the menu back to Eileen, grabbed her in my arms, and planted a big smooch right on her lips. I stepped back and went out the door before she could say another word.

As I headed toward the pick-up, my buddies under the tree started yelling to me as they stood up in unison. It would have looked kind of graceful of them, until Billy Clyde tripped over that large tree root. He was in between Johnny Ray and Bubba Dean and grabbed each of them by a shirt sleeve in an attempt to stop his fall. This, of course, did nothing but bring the other two down with him. I could almost hear the clunking of their heads banging into each other as they all went to the ground in a heap. It looked so much like something I had seen in an old Three Stooges rerun that I finally had to give in and let all that built up laughter out. Mo, Larry, and Curly. Yeah, those are my boys.

As I stood there, holding my sides, Billy managed to get untangle himself from the other two and walked toward me, yelling, "Hey Jordan! Wanna go out to your place and crack open a keg? Your house is a lot nicer than this nasty bar anyway, since Harley forced us to help remodel it. Where were you anyways? We really could have used you. You know you've always been the brains of our group."

"I took a little vacation, Billy Clyde."

"Vacation? What are you talking about, Jordan? You never go anywhere without us guys. Why, we haven't spent more than a day apart since junior high school."

All I could do was giggle and say, "Maybe I'll tell you guys all about it someday," as I waved him off and got into Whitey. I started her up and headed toward home, hoping Harley was gone and I could just spend some time with Digger and relax.
I mouthed a "Thank you" up toward the sky and Merlin, when I got home and found my refrigerator full of beer. I knew it had to be him, cause Harley sure wouldn't have put it there. I would miss that nice old alien, but not enough that I was sorry I didn't go with him

Harley seemed to have cleared out for the day, so I did exactly what I had planned on doing. I sat on the porch, finished off a twelve pack of beer, and hugged my dog. By the time I had thrown the last beer can into the front yard, I was too drunk care about anything, but still sober enough to find the bed. Digger and I flopped on my bed and I slept the sleep of the dead, as they say. After all, I was dead, in a way. Wasn't I?