The Egyptian
The sun showered the park in a warm glow as I sat next to a young man talking about his life. I had met him only about an hour before, but I couldn't walk away from him, though I believed him to be insane or very convicing and clever. He sat in a glossy black suit with a felt bowlers hat with a worn pair of running shoes. He looked to be about twenty-three or so, but his manner lead me to think him much older. I didn't really stop to think why I thought him older, but I did. I also had the impression that he was very strong, though he was sparse of build and did nothing to make me think he was strong...at least nothing I could put my finger on.
He had told me at some point that he was over a thousand years old, but wouldn't tell me much about the past. He told me about various women he'd been married to. He never mentioned any children. I asked him many questions in an effort to gain some knowledge which I had not yet gained in my fifty-eight years of life, but he answered few of my questions. I had the impression that he was trying to answer my questions, that is to say that he thought he was answering me, but what he told me were strange summations of growing old.
"I'm sure you have noticed that the older you get, the shorter you past seems to have been," he said, "Sometimes you may think something happened only yesterday? Well, it does not end. My whole existance seems to me to have taken merely a day. I think it must be God's little joke on Those of the Long Soul, that."
Those of the Long Soul. He had refered to that many times. I asked him about it and he told me that he had met several others like him and that had been what they had called themselves. It all sounded so dramatic to me. I asked again how he had become Long Soul'd.
"Well, I don't know. That is to say, I have always been who I am, always been alive to my knowledge. God's trick, remember?" he said with a sardonic grin. "I'm sure I began sometime, but beginnings aren't real any more than endings, now are they?"
After a time, he told me of how he had tried to kill himself many times, usually after watching someone he cared about die. He said that he had loved many people and animals in his life and had watched them all die.
"I'll try to make it to your funeral," he told me, with a sideways look. He had a deep, course voice and his eyes were at once peircing green and possesed of a lazy humor. I told him I was atheist and that I would be cremated and he grinned again.
"No God, eh?" he seemed to consider. "Perhaps. That would explain much and raise more questions. To tell you the truth, I have no idea, though I have thought upon God's existance for many centuries. I think that it trully does not matter, for either you are moral or you are not and God can't make you do anything, any more than a woman can."
At dark, I told him goodbye and said that I hoped to meet him again. He smiled and said we would meet once more in my life, he would see to it.
"By the way," he said, "My name is Ankh." With that he walked away.
*****
Many years later, I had gotten into geneology and was in a library in New York researching my ancestors on my mother's side, when I came upon a picture in a newpaper from the 19th century. There stood Ankh among a group of townspeople. That photograph was clear and there was no doubt to me that Ankh had told me the truth that day so many years before. I had been seventy years old and that day of discovery changed my life.
*****
Today, I was visited again by Ankh in the hospital. I am dying, having outlived my body for any useful purpose. I am sedated for pain, but I am not completely unaware of my situation, nor my environment. My mind is still mine, so I have my memories. Ankh had been right, for as I reviewed my life, it seemed to be nothing more than a period of ten years.
Ankh had walked right up to me and without preamble told me this:
"My friend, I was not completely truthful with you, that day we talked, for I do know about God. I cannot describe to you that what you think of as God is not reality, but that the end is the same. Have no fear, though you will face death alone, you will not end. I am denied from completing that journey, but I can assure you, you have nothing to fear," he leaned closer and a trace of a grin appeared. "There is no need for you to wonder about your future, for the future is nothing more than a word. You cannot take words with you, but enjoy your feelings, my friend, for those will not be discarded." With that, he winked and strode out of the room, leaving my relatives to look after and then look at me in askance. I immediately grew weak, for there was no longer any reason to fight my bodies end.
I just hoped with an almost painful hope, as I felt my consciousness fade, that he was not pulling my leg.
So? What do you think?
~J
He had told me at some point that he was over a thousand years old, but wouldn't tell me much about the past. He told me about various women he'd been married to. He never mentioned any children. I asked him many questions in an effort to gain some knowledge which I had not yet gained in my fifty-eight years of life, but he answered few of my questions. I had the impression that he was trying to answer my questions, that is to say that he thought he was answering me, but what he told me were strange summations of growing old.
"I'm sure you have noticed that the older you get, the shorter you past seems to have been," he said, "Sometimes you may think something happened only yesterday? Well, it does not end. My whole existance seems to me to have taken merely a day. I think it must be God's little joke on Those of the Long Soul, that."
Those of the Long Soul. He had refered to that many times. I asked him about it and he told me that he had met several others like him and that had been what they had called themselves. It all sounded so dramatic to me. I asked again how he had become Long Soul'd.
"Well, I don't know. That is to say, I have always been who I am, always been alive to my knowledge. God's trick, remember?" he said with a sardonic grin. "I'm sure I began sometime, but beginnings aren't real any more than endings, now are they?"
After a time, he told me of how he had tried to kill himself many times, usually after watching someone he cared about die. He said that he had loved many people and animals in his life and had watched them all die.
"I'll try to make it to your funeral," he told me, with a sideways look. He had a deep, course voice and his eyes were at once peircing green and possesed of a lazy humor. I told him I was atheist and that I would be cremated and he grinned again.
"No God, eh?" he seemed to consider. "Perhaps. That would explain much and raise more questions. To tell you the truth, I have no idea, though I have thought upon God's existance for many centuries. I think that it trully does not matter, for either you are moral or you are not and God can't make you do anything, any more than a woman can."
At dark, I told him goodbye and said that I hoped to meet him again. He smiled and said we would meet once more in my life, he would see to it.
"By the way," he said, "My name is Ankh." With that he walked away.
*****
Many years later, I had gotten into geneology and was in a library in New York researching my ancestors on my mother's side, when I came upon a picture in a newpaper from the 19th century. There stood Ankh among a group of townspeople. That photograph was clear and there was no doubt to me that Ankh had told me the truth that day so many years before. I had been seventy years old and that day of discovery changed my life.
*****
Today, I was visited again by Ankh in the hospital. I am dying, having outlived my body for any useful purpose. I am sedated for pain, but I am not completely unaware of my situation, nor my environment. My mind is still mine, so I have my memories. Ankh had been right, for as I reviewed my life, it seemed to be nothing more than a period of ten years.
Ankh had walked right up to me and without preamble told me this:
"My friend, I was not completely truthful with you, that day we talked, for I do know about God. I cannot describe to you that what you think of as God is not reality, but that the end is the same. Have no fear, though you will face death alone, you will not end. I am denied from completing that journey, but I can assure you, you have nothing to fear," he leaned closer and a trace of a grin appeared. "There is no need for you to wonder about your future, for the future is nothing more than a word. You cannot take words with you, but enjoy your feelings, my friend, for those will not be discarded." With that, he winked and strode out of the room, leaving my relatives to look after and then look at me in askance. I immediately grew weak, for there was no longer any reason to fight my bodies end.
I just hoped with an almost painful hope, as I felt my consciousness fade, that he was not pulling my leg.
So? What do you think?
~J
posted by Voodstoc at 9:52 PM
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