The Universe

I was being tested... in a way. Not about what I knew (or thought I knew), but about my character.  And apparently I passed. 

That's when I was given permission to see and was shown great things. Great in beauty and... maybe you'll see.  

Beauty of children playing, angels, the universe... and sadness.  

After passing the test, we had a trial period that lasted for about a year, after which  there was an unexpected raise. What I learned the following year(s) was simply mind-blowing (for me anyway).  Enough about me.

First for the background, then for the test.

And finally, maybe what may have led to the raise.

Now, let’s get on to some of what ‘heaven’ looks like.  Heaven… yeah,  a place where people get to play god.  Or, from their angle, where the gods get to play.

Oh… it is never what you think. 

 This morning I saw three...

 In the rain, through my eyes, they looked beautiful.

Unless of course, you’ve been there. 

Ready, set….

Background.

Dr. Mercy spoke with perfect textbook English along with numerous interesting expressions thrown in.  Though his timing was perfect, his voice was not loud. But his eyes… his unforgettable eyes remembered everything. For me, it is good enough if I only remember the simple fact that he actually cared.

My recall is far less accurate that it could be.

Forgive me, for I must paraphrase when this story is told.

By font

Dr. K. Mercy in --- arial

W. Teach ---- courier

Everything else ----- times

“Thank you very much for the class. I came here looking for an English teacher. Unfortunately, obligations keep me from continuing. Time-wise, it’s an issue of conflicts. Might you know of someone or… would you have time?” 

They’d been learning together in the class for a cycle. One of the subcontracted (and therefore overworked) part-time clerks at the nationally tax-funded Bloated Broadcasting Organization was letting him know that labor conditions were kind of changing. What was formerly a ‘sweet job’ (or so he had been told before stepping into the orchard)... the sweet job wasn't gonna be as sweet... maybe even... let's see... sour.  Love it. Hate it. Or both.

Love it when educational. Or hate it for the scandal. Oops.. hate it for this one. Or both.  Just make sure they pay their crew…

Instead of paying a flat fee for services, Will would be expected to show up and teach whoever was going to be there. They local branch of the beloved network, BBO, would be doing the ‘advertising’ -  something none of the subcontracted clerks had sort of done for a few seasons. Sort of.

Anyone who has labored in an orchard before knows that a lot of work, sweat, and love, as well as sun, shade and rain, goes into keeping your trees healthy. If they are going to bear fruit. When Will came in, he couldn’t help notice that most had already dropped. Why? He wasn’t too sure. 

Nobody seemed to know what was going on, at least on the ground, anyway. There hadn’t been rain in a while and the clerks working as labor contractors apparently didn’t know jack-shit about irrigation.

Instead of paying a flat fee for services, which is somewhat common in this field, the bureaucracy had started trying to count beans. Yeah, that’s when you know you are in trouble. Maybe someone in Houmas House had smelled something coming in from the field. Either way, this being far south an' a 'pow-lite' society and all, everybody was Hush Hush about it.  

Sorry...fuck it, I'm not. This goes here for more than what the title of the song says.

She's moving. 

No, it’s not the modified (chopped) Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte version, but god, I just love watching her sing this… the way she kind of sways…. 

Okay, back to the story. File her in your memory, she IS important. 

Getting back to work...

Will had done his job. Tended the orchard best he could. Time was right and everything was ripe. So he watched them fall and then picked up a few who told him they were interested.  And he got to work. 

You ever want to brew up something, got to choose your season right if you are following the rule.  

Before BBO's miscarriage of a scandal, the economic one, broke water all over the newspapers, so to speak, they’d been trying to stave off the inevitable. Corners were being cut. Chop, chop...

 

Now, getting back to that test.

"So, Will, what do you say?"

“Sure. I’d definitely consider it. What are you thinking… what do you have in mind?”

“Well, I was wondering if you would be wiling to come to my office in the evenings, on a weekly basis. I need to be able to communicate with my English speaking colleagues here and when I go overseas. No… nothing technical, I just need practice communicating.” 

Some people never stop. Maybe because they shouldn't. Stopping can be debilitating, if not fatal. 

Look. Will's educational background is nothing to be proud of. The grains of individual words slip though his fingers… and it is not necessarily the fault of any of his past recreational activities. That's a different story. Not for here. No keys to open the 'short-term memory box' will be given at this time.  

But we do need to mention memory because Dr. K. Mercy never forgot anything.

NEVER

Yeah. That good.  You ever realize that you are having a conversation with a person who has what some might understand as a photographic memory or almost perfect recall? (This has to do with the test... but only part of it. The trial period took a year, remember?)

Dr. Mercy had had it with language schools. Their prices were as outrageous as the charisma of their employees. Nobody good seemed to want to stick around long anyway. 

Test and trial.

During the trial year, Dr. Mercy asked Will for clarification of the meaning of a word or two, apparently trying to clear up confusion about the meaning. Will had just used a word in a way that conflicted with what was given a few weeks prior. 

No, Will had not lied about 'knowing' something. He'd actually given one of the definitions of a word with many meanings and usages. Will grabbed his dictionary to verify. A big red one. 

Not the actual dictionary... this is just a stand in.

Nothing beats a good dictionary... 'cept maybe a Playboy.

The Good Doctor was still using his dictionary from high school. Surprisingly well cared for. But nowhere near adequate. Hadn't anyone ever asked him about his dictionary?

"I think you might want to consider purchasing a more reliable dictionary."

"I'd never thought to buy a new one for conversation. Those medical dictionaries are too big. And this one has more or less gotten me through." 

Will reaches over and looks at the historical tome. "You mean, you have been using only this... the entire time you have been learning English?" 

"That and the books I read in school." 

"You mean, you learned English from reading Japanese English textbooks from way back when? And you can speak like this? You must have had to study hard when you were little. You must have been quite a dedicated student." 

"No, not really. I was too busy in the dojo. If I can understand a concept, I remember it." Then he tilted his head and reflected, "I only ever needed to read a school textbook once." 

At that moment, Will understood. Everything became crystal clear.  He looked into the Good Doctor's eyes and calmly gave his reply, "This is the first time I have met anyone with what may be called a photographic memory who..." he may have stuttered before going on, "I-I think... I think I understand now... If you don't mind my saying, teaching... working with you has been a pleasure. Thank you."  

"I have also enjoyed your company. What is it that you are using there?" 

At the next 'meeting', the Good Doctor had a new friend.

The actual test during the trial period involved honestly participating in conversations. Conversations  about chopsticks, whale meat consumption, and consumption. Just kidding... that was never on the test, but it was talked bout. The test involved preparation for each and every class, showing up (and showing up on time), in addition to a number of other things Will did that were filed in Dr. Mercy's head. 

Often, the conditions tests mandate is that the subject not be aware that it, the subject, is being tested. 

Example: 

"You want that coffee?" 

a. Say, "Fuck off!"

b. Say, "Sure do."

c. Offer, "It's yours." 

d. Do nothing

Life is all about context. The situations we find ourselves in, as well as the ones that we put ourselves in from time to time. You never never know. I'm not going to pretend to. Sure, you can use your head, but it can be one of your worst enemies... unlike the trusty dictionary.

And though there may be no obvious moral to this story, the key... one of the keys that allowed access to a brilliant (and compassionate) mind also gave Will a number of incredible 'stories'. All he had to do was sit, listen, and give an honest response. Those stories include the following: 

• Why Some People Can Never Stop
• Perfect Balance or Blown Away
• Sweet and Sour
• Single-car Accident(s)
• Professional Courtesy

No, the recollections are not for sale. As long as conditions permit, they are being set free. Somehow, it's just meant to be that way. 

Now, as a way of showing and telling, this is how things work on this blog. 

She is standing...

 and swaying.

We all do. We sway, like this:

It's called postural sway. And though postural sway is nothing new to, let's say, neurologists, it was new to me. And the day that word was new to me, Dr. K. Mercy explained it in plain English. And told a story that kind of blew me away. 

There is no time to write it down at the moment. But there are enough details still in that box (the one that keeps closing itself)... there are enough details and pieces available. 

Now, this post is more or less done. "Stick a fork in it," so he said.

There is plenty on this page that can be unlocked with questions. They keys. For anyone interested, as long as this blog lives, questions will be answered. Will knows each and every post fairly well. They are all part of a much bigger picture that YOU are part of even if you've gotten this far and are wondering, "What the fuck?" 

Even if no one really cares:

Thank you for your time. 

(virtually unedited continuous flow... it just doesn't matter)