The Final Testament of the Holy Bible Part 11

Who are they?

People who want to be loved.

What's that mean?

You know what it means. You felt what it means.

Can I get it for you?

No I have a little bit of money.

No, thank you.

I would like to give it to you.

I don't need money.

Why not?

Because I find what other people throw away.

And that's enough.

More.

He started to step out of the dumpster. I didn't want him to go. Ever. I knew that when he did, I would feel the way I always felt. The way I felt before him.

Don't go.

He stopped.

I don't want you to go.

He turned around.

Will you come inside, and sit with me?

Yes.

I'll meet you in the lobby?

Yes.

He turned and climbed out of the dumpster. I closed my window. I met him in the lobby a couple of minutes later. I was really nervous before he arrived. People were staring at me and laughing. I couldn't blame them, really. If I wasn't me, I would have been laughing too. When Ben walked in, everyone stopped. I was worried that they would stop him, or call the police, but everyone just stopped talking and laughing and everything. They just stared at him.

He smiled at me and took me by the hand and we walked to my room. I opened the door and we stepped inside. He closed the door and told me to lie down on the bed. I was really excited. Really, really excited. Super excited. I had no idea what was going to happen. Whatever it was would be great. And as excited as I was, I was also calm in a weird way. Much calmer than I would have thought. I wasn't shaking or feeling like I was going to cry or scream at all.

He turned off the TV and lay down next to me. I couldn't believe it was happening. He started asking me questions. My name, where I was from, what my parents were like, and what they did. As we talked, and I answered his questions, he moved closer to me, and put one of his arms around me, and took one of my hands. He was so close to me that he started whispering. He asked me about my childhood. I told him it was unhappy. He asked me about school, and I told him it was always easy for me, but that I failed on purpose, because I didn't want to give kids another reason to hate me. He moved closer, and his hands started moving around my body. It was beautiful. Totally the best time I had ever had. And it wasn't dirty or perverted. His hands felt like they were part of my body. Everywhere he touched felt like it was absolutely the right spot, and the spot where I would have had him touch me if I could have asked him. We kept talking, and I started asking him questions. The same type of things he asked me. And he told me about his childhood, and growing up in Brooklyn. He told me his father hated him and beat him, and his brother hated him and beat him. He told me that his mother coddled him and that his sister wors.h.i.+pped him. He told me that he was Jewish. I had never met a Jewish person before, or at least not one that I knew was Jewish. He said his Jewish rabbis where his family went to pray had great expectations for him, and believed he would do great things, and maybe even change the world. I told him that must have been hard, that it was the opposite of my life, where n.o.body expected anything. He said it wasn't hard, because they were right about what they believed, but wrong in thinking about what he would do, and how he would do it. What was hard was waiting for it to happen. Spending all of his life alone, knowing it was going to happen, and just sitting around and waiting.

We fell into some kind of talking trance. He kept touching me and feeling me. He took off my nightie. And he took off my panties. And he whispered in my ear, and I felt him move inside of me. And it wasn't like some thunderbolt hit me, or like some pa.s.sionate kiss in a rainstorm. It just felt full, and complete, and quiet. I felt like I could die at that moment and I would be okay with dying. I felt like however I had wasted my life, and whatever terrible things I'd seen and heard and felt, it didn't matter anymore. This man was inside of me and he was holding me and I was feeling love. True love. The kind of love that really could change the world.

We stayed that way for hours. For the whole night even. He stayed behind me and inside me. He was moving the entire time. Very slowly and gently. Sometimes so slowly I could hardly feel him moving. Sometimes a little faster. We talked the whole time. I told him everything about myself and my life. I told him how I lived alone on my parents' farm, which was overgrown and crazy. How I worked as a cas.h.i.+er at a superstore and tried to be nice but had people be mean to me all day. How I lived in a dead town filled with churches and bars and husbands beating their wives and children. How I spent all my nights alone in front of the TV, eating canned food and potato chips and ice cream. How I cried every night because I didn't believe anyone would ever care for me. I told him about all my best hopes and biggest dreams and my scariest fears. I told him all I wanted in my life was a friend who I could call sometimes and say hi. How I always dreamed about having someone tell me I was beautiful, or even pretty. How I was scared I'd die someday all by myself and no one would find me until a long time after I was gone. I told him that there hadn't been a time in my life that I hadn't been lonely and that I didn't want to feel it anymore.

He told me how he lived with a woman and her child in a small apartment. How he had been in jail and knew people were looking for him because he had jumped bail. How he spent his days touching people and helping people and teaching people about how to live in a world that is falling apart and dying. He talked about love. How love is the only thing in the world that is worth living for, the only good thing that we have left, and the only thing we haven't destroyed. That true love, G.o.d's love, isn't about beauty or perfection or man or woman. That love isn't about declarations made before false idols. That love isn't what a bunch of hateful old white men decide it is. That love isn't something that can be written into laws by corrupt governments. He said love is something shared by two people, any two people, man and woman, or man and man, or woman and woman, in whatever way makes them feel perfect and beautiful and peaceful in their hearts. He said love is what I was feeling as he held me and touched me and moved inside of me. He said that if I wanted to see G.o.d, see G.o.d as he did, and in G.o.d's true form, he could show me. He told me to close my eyes, so I did. He moved his hand onto me and moved his body a little more and he stopped talking to me and I could feel his breath on my neck and my cheek. It built inside of me. G.o.d built up inside of me. And the more he moved, the more it built. And his breath felt hot and smelled sweet. And he kept moving, real slow, and moving real deep inside, and it built until I saw it and felt it. It was love, and joy, and pleasure, and every part of my body sang some song I had never heard but was the prettiest, most beautiful song ever, and it was blinding and pure and my brain went the whitest white ever, and I saw infinity, forever and ever, I saw infinity, and even understood it, and understood everything else in the world, all the hate and rage and death and pa.s.sion and jealousy and murder, and none of them even mattered. I felt one hundred percent secure. I felt nothing bad. I saw the past and the future. It was the greatest second of my life. Really the greatest, and I knew in that one second I was experiencing G.o.d. The real G.o.d. The true G.o.d. The eternal G.o.d. The G.o.d that can't be in a book or in a church or on a Sunday TV show or on a cross or a star. The G.o.d that can't be explained or described or written about or taught or preached. The G.o.d that can't be forced upon people or used to d.a.m.n them. And I loved that G.o.d, that perfect amazing unbelievable true G.o.d. And I knew that none of the other G.o.ds meant anything.

When that moment ended, Ben kept moving and breathing very slowly. I didn't know what to say and I guess I didn't want to say anything. Nothing I would have said would have meant anything or even mattered. So I just kept my eyes closed and listened to him breathe and felt him. And it just kept going, for the whole night, him inside of me. His hands moving all over me. The two of us loving each other. He kept speaking but I don't know what he was saying. All I know is what I felt. G.o.d, G.o.d, and more G.o.d. G.o.d all night. When the sun came up, he stopped moving but stayed inside of me and just held me. Finally I said something to him.

Ben.

Yes.

I don't ever want you to leave.

I'm going to leave in a little while.

Please.

Come with me if you want.

Where?

I have to find some food and go back to the Bronx.

What will I do?

Whatever you want.

What will your woman say?

She's her own woman.

What will she say?

She'll say h.e.l.lo, and welcome you.

He kissed me softly on the cheek and pulled away from me. I felt him come right out of me. And not just physically. I felt it right in my heart too. And I felt like I had lost something. But not something silly, like my keys or my gum. More like my arm or my foot or something, something that really mattered. Like something that I could live without, but would make life much harder if it were missing. And life is hard enough. Life is hard enough with everything we're given. With what I used to think G.o.d gave us, before I knew the truth. Before I realized that all that Bible nonsense is just silly. That Bibles are just books, like any book is just a book. Except maybe Bibles are more boring and more ridiculous and harder to read. And even though they say all sorts of things, and make all sorts of promises, they're full of lies, or lies if you're foolish enough to believe they contain something real. I know that G.o.d doesn't give us anything in life. So G.o.d can't take anything away. But a real person can give, and can take away. And when Ben was no longer inside of me, I felt something was gone. Something that was more than anything I'd ever known. Something greater than a made-up G.o.d in an old dusty book.

He stood and I watched him get dressed. I felt sorry for him in his raggedy clothes. I wanted to get him some new clothes. Not that I could get him anything fancy, but I could get a discount on some clothes at the store where I worked. Simple clothes for a regular person. And I noticed his scars for the first time. Long thick scars over his whole body. They were really scary. Like someone had taken a white marker and drawn lines everywhere. Except I knew they weren't from a marker or anything. He had been really hurt. And I tried to imagine what it must have felt like to be hurt like that. And I could imagine it. That really truly awful terrible pain. The kind that can only be felt alone, and that no one can help you with. I really could imagine it.

As he was putting his s.h.i.+rt on, he smiled at me. I knew if he left I would never see him again. I didn't want that. I couldn't even think of it. Of not having the feeling of being with him, or even near him again. So I spoke up. For the first time in my life. A life spent not talking and hiding and being scared and alone.

He changed me away from it, and I spoke up.

I want to come with you.

He smiled.

Okay.

Really?

Yes.

No lie?

He smiled again.

No lie.

I stood up, and even though I look the way I do, I wasn't even embarra.s.sed. I started getting dressed right away.

What should I bring?

You don't need anything.

Clothes?

He laughed.

What you're wearing.

Money?

Doesn't matter.

It will take me just a minute to get packed.

You don't need those things.

Will I be back?

If you choose.

You sure I don't need anything?

We don't need most of what we have.

I smiled, and pulled on my pants and put on my jacket. He smiled at me while I got dressed, and his eyes stayed on my body, and he made me feel beautiful, which is something I had never felt, not once, in my entire life. Once I was ready, I grabbed my wallet and we left.

It was a c.r.a.ppy day. Cold and really rainy. It was the kind of rain that hurts your skin when it hits it. It felt like little needles. Ben didn't have a good coat. His was an old brown sport coat like a librarian would wear. It was really funny. And I don't think it kept him warm or dry. He didn't seem to mind, though. The rain hit him and he smiled. We walked along the street and he smiled. Everywhere we walked, he just smiled. He didn't talk at all. Sometimes he would take my hand. Like when there was a big crowd, or the cars were blocking the crosswalk. And sometimes I would get out of breath or have to slow down. He never seemed to even care. He would slow down and make sure I was okay. He was so nice and kind and gentle. It seemed like that was all that mattered to him. And it made all of the terrible things that had tortured me my whole entire life just go away. Kindness and love can make any pain go away. It's true. I know it.

After we walked a long time, Ben cut off the street and we went into the subway. I had never been in it before. I had always been scared to go under the ground. I thought I'd get mugged or bit by a rat or fall in front of a train. Or maybe I would just get lost and never find my way out. Or maybe people would point at me and make fun of me. I was just scared. Really scared. But Ben took my hand and we walked right down, and we waited for one of the exit doors to open and then we walked right through it. And we walked right to the platform and waited. I could feel people staring at us, but I realized they weren't staring at me. They were staring at Ben. n.o.body was talking. And they weren't looking at their phones or little email machines or newspapers or the floor or even each other. They were looking at him. All of them, just silent and staring at him.

The subway train pulled up and we stepped on. There were empty seats and we sat down. I had no idea where we were going, and Ben and me hadn't said a word to each other since we'd left the hotel. There were a few other people in the car, and a few more got on with us. Everybody was sitting down. Ben closed his eyes and smiled and started breathing very deeply and slowly. It wasn't dramatic or anything, like some actress trying to calm down after being hysterical. It was just simple and pure. Just a man breathing. And people were staring at him again. Like they couldn't believe what they were seeing. Like their lives were all so busy that they had forgotten what a still silent man looked like. And as he breathed they all seemed to calm down. As if he were giving them what he had, or what he was feeling. Some of them closed their eyes and started breathing just like him. Some just smiled and stared at him. A few stood up and walked towards us to be closer to him. And at every stop more people got on the car. And whatever he was doing, he would do to every one of them. And even though it was roaring down the tracks at some crazy speed, that car was the most quiet and simple and beautiful and peaceful place in the world.

We stayed on the car for thirty or forty minutes. n.o.body got off at a single stop. It got really crowded, but didn't feel that way. People were just breathing and smiling and being happy. I had never seen so many different kinds of people, black people and white people and brown people and all different kinds, smashed together in one place without looking suspiciously at each other or avoiding each other. Without hating each other, or at least not liking each other at all. And it was just because of him, because of the way he sat and he breathed and smiled. Because he just looked like love, like peace, like he was content with things, even though he was dressed like a b.u.m. As the car started to slow down before one of the stops, I felt Ben's hand on my leg. I looked at him and he smiled and motioned towards the door. When the car stopped, we stood and walked off. Everybody watched him go, and no one moved. They just stared at him and kept breathing. And as we were walking away, I looked back at the car. People were standing at the doors and the windows, staring. Watching Ben and me walk away. They were all smiling.

We came out of the subway into another part of the city. It was not very nice. I could hear sirens and cars honking and loud rap music and people yelling, mostly in Spanish. It smelled like meat was cooking. There were people everywhere on the streets, and none of them were white. The buildings were all big and rundown and looked the same. There was trash in the streets. Ben seemed the same as he was everywhere. Comfortable and calm. Like he wasn't scared at all. I was scared, though. Really scared. There were no black people in the town where I lived. Once or twice a week I might see a black person in the store where I worked. When people talked about them, it was mostly because they were on TV or on a sports team or something, or because they had seen them in the city being loud and were scared of them. I was scared of them, for sure. Me and Ben were the only white people I saw. It was like I was one of them where I'm from. It didn't feel nice.

We walked towards a group of big brown buildings. I guessed it was some kind of housing project. It looked dangerous to me. n.o.body stared at us or even paid attention to us. Ben just walked along. And he didn't look so poor anymore. Lots of the people we saw were wearing old clothes that weren't so nice. Lots of the people looked poor. He just looked like one of them. Or like a white version of one of them. A beautiful scarred white version. But he was obviously still poor. And poor people are poor people, regardless of the color of their skin.

As we crossed the street and stepped onto the curb in front of the buildings, a large black man came walking up to Ben. I thought we were dead, for sure, and I wished I had a whistle or some mace or something. I thought about running, but knew I wouldn't get very far. Ben just kept walking and said h.e.l.lo to the man and the man said h.e.l.lo back. They hugged, and the man started whispering in Ben's ear. I was relieved, for sure, but something seemed wrong. Ben nodded as the man talked. The man looked real worried, and I could see his eyes looking around as he whispered. When he finished, Ben hugged him again and turned to me.

We need to go.

Why?

It's not safe here.

I know that.

Not for the reasons you think.

I could tell this was a dangerous place.

It's a poor place.

Yes.

Poor people are desperate, not dangerous.

Let's leave.

My friend is going to take us somewhere safe.

I'm scared of him.

You're scared of the color of his skin, not him.

That's not true.

Yes, it is.

He took my hand and nodded to the man and we started to walk away from the buildings. We were following the man and we were walking fast and I was still scared, but not as much. What Ben said hurt me, but mostly because it was true. I was extra scared because the man was black, and black people scared me. I knew it was wrong, but it was also just what I felt. I'm sure if he was walking around where I lived, he might be scared too.

We went around the corner, and the man opened the doors of a big SUV. We got inside and he started driving us away, but not too fast. As we came around another corner, I saw a group of policemen standing near their cars. All of their lights were flas.h.i.+ng. Standing with them was another group of men in blue suits, and some had bulletproof vests. They all looked very serious, and they looked really mean. They were holding photocopies of a picture. I couldn't really see it very good, but I knew who it was. I knew that they were looking for Ben. He watched them as we drove past. He didn't look nervous or scared or anything. He just looked at them like he looked at everyone else, like he was best friends with them or something. I couldn't imagine looking like that at people with guns who were hunting me. But he did. He looked at them like he loved them with his whole heart, even though they wanted to get him.

We drove for a few blocks until we reached another set of big buildings. They looked exactly like the other ones. If I had been shown pictures of them, I would have thought they were all the same. The man parked the car, and we got out and started walking. We went into one of the buildings. It was dirty. There was trash in the entrance. A man was sleeping on the ground right outside the door. He was snoring and his pants were dirty. We waited for the elevator. I could hear it creaking on the wires. The big man who drove us was still standing with us. He and Ben weren't even talking. The elevator arrived and the door opened. We got inside and went up. It stopped at the seventh floor. The man got out first and Ben smiled at me and motioned for me to follow him and I did it. I stepped right out and followed him. And I should have been scared, but I wasn't. I was with a black man who looked like a killer and a homeless man who ate garbage. And I wasn't scared. I was just walking along with them like we were going to the mall to get some new pants or a computer game or something. What Ben had said before was right. I was scared of that man's color. What matters is what's in a man's heart.

We walked to the end of the hall and the man took out some keys and opened a door. He held the door for me and Ben and we went inside. It was a small apartment. It wasn't anything fancy, but it wasn't bad. There were five or six people sitting at a table, listening to a police scanner. They were all black. They were drinking water and eating fruit. They looked right at us. I didn't know what to say. A young girl, a really really pretty girl, with long curly hair and beautiful caramel skin, stood up and laughed and walked over to Ben. She started talking.

You know the trouble you cause?

He smiled and kissed her.

I'm happy to see you.

They kept kissing and talking.