Mistaken Identity

I was a man, who met an older man who took me to live with him. The man wasn’t old in the saggy-skin-and-liverspots kind of way, but more like timeless and wizened. He was smallish, and dignified with tonsured white hair and small spectacles that i was positive he didn’t really need to see better. He wore them to obscure the nature of his eyes, which on first glance were nothing special. A mundane shade of cloudy blue, and not the brightest, most piercing blue eyes you’d ever seen, either. But when those cloudy blue eyes met and held yours. . . ah, you felt you were standing on the edge of the world and looking over the edge into the abyss, and knew that the abyss was not empty, but intelligent and waiting for you to know the truth. The clouds in those eyes parted, and you saw. That’s how i came to know i was living with God. He didn’t make a big deal of it, once i was awakened to the truth, but i felt so elated! I wanted to climb to the roof and scream it to anyone who’d listen! I had so many questions . . .

"I know, but this isn’t what you must do", he said to me as if i’d spoken my desires aloud. "There is a woman downstairs, go to her and tell her what you know". I went downstairs and there was, indeed, a woman perched on the bottom stair as though waiting for her name to be called in a doctor’s office. I walked quietly down the stairs, not wishing to disturb her. She looked up at me, as though expecting me.

"Well?", she said. I didn’t reply, i sat down on the step next to her and looked at her. She was the very picture of the Average Jane. Straight medium brown hair, medium brown eyes, medium complexion. I knew when she stood, she’d be of average height and weight, with averagely sized breasts. She was neither smiling nor frowning. She was not impatient, but waited for me to tell her what i’d come to tell her. I still didn’t say anything. She watched me for a long while, and i watched understanding dawn on her average features. I nodded, and she began to cry. Then she fled the building.

I walked outside, and down to the corner with a small wooden crate and seated myself upon it. I said nothing, though the urge to get up on the crate and shout still held me. When i felt i must succumb to this urge, i heard a voice, not in my head, telling me that i must not, that this is how the message was lost the first few times. I felt i sat there an eternity as one person after another passed me by. Day after day, the regulars who walked past me finally began to take notice of me. The range of reactions i received was mixed: Some were obviously annoyed with my brief but continued presense in their lives, some were distressed at the same, some were concerned for my apparent homelessness, and some simply didn’t care. And still i sat.

Finally, someone came up to address me. When i looked at him and held his eyes, i witnessed the same transformation in his face as i’d witnessed in the Average Jane’s. He drifted away from me without a word. I was happy to sit there all that time, waiting for someone to carry my knowledge from me. I felt a summons at last, and stood to go home. The dust of the ages fell from me as i did so, and i looked around for the first time. The world had gotten bigger, and i walked toward the house where God took me to live with him. It was just up the corner from me before, but since the world had grown, i had to walk several days to get there.

I went up stairs to see him, and he praised me silently and bade me bring Jane home. I wondered briefly why he couldn’t summon her the way he’d summoned me, and he replied that she was very far away and had lost the message, and having done so was unable to receive his summons. I opened my heart and thought of Jane standing here in the room with us. I threw my head back and tried my best to radiate this feeling of being home. I stood this way for a long time, and then i sat down to wait for her.

After what felt like years, i heard steps on the stairs outside. I knew she was there, but she was not alone. She came in and flung the door wide. Her face was wild, no longer average. She wore a look of raw ecstasy. Her hair was wild and her clothing was torn. Behind her, a multitude of people wearing similar expressions crowded into the building. She slowly raised her hand and pointed at me and began to sing in a sweet voice. The ecstatic look on her face spread to the rest of her and she swayed on her feet. The masses looked to me, took up her song, and fell to their knees in supplication. I looked at them in horror and revulsion. I turned to God, my plea for help on the tip of my tongue. He stood there, alone and unseen, and infinitely sorrowful. He became increasingly insubstantial as the song of the multitude grew to a fevered pitch.

"This is all wrong", i thought. I thought of the message that was lost, and the wrong message that had replaced it and i felt a little despair. Then i thought of the lone person who’d quietly borne the knowledge away from me, and my despair gave way to hope.