Short Story: The Universe

(been working this story over a lot getting close here maybe) I cannot account for what others do with their life's energy and I mean this literally because I am more than a little on the Aspergers spectrum. I perceive some people much as I perceive a dog in terms of any true grasp I can manage in understanding of their inner consciousness that is only vaguely, really, having some basic idea what a dog may be interested in, you know? Or, maybe you don't know and you're thinking, “what the hell is this guy talking about?”. Not to cast aspersions but maybe you're a little Aspy, too, man? I think it's a lot more common than people think, myself. The vast majority of us are not so far down the scale as Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory nor so smart … and I think the two do go hand in hand, Aspergers Syndrome and intelligence. Often quirky, savant stuff that weird uncle of whom everyone is always thinking, “why the hell doesn't he go on a game show with his trivia knowledge, he'd make a million!” The Tell is a little nervous tic in lack of social skills or perhaps not even that obvious just random gaps in ability to process certain social interactions properly that to “Normals” are so innate as to lay below the level of conscious thought. You know, when you miss something, you don't know that you miss it? If there's anything that frightens me, it's just that blind thought: “what am I missing!” Not of bodily assault or even cancer but that blind side, man, that blind side that can harbor the next truck that is about to strike me. And I hate being hit by a truck so hard that I don't even think to get the license number. Anyway, I was always looking for God myself. I mean that is what I was interested in and what I was doing mostly. Well, that and romantic love and sure I mixed the two up no bones about it. Goddess worship could not come more naturally to me. I never was much up for sports. I tried to get it up for politics but damn just can't do it I mean I'd rather be poked in the eye with a sharp stick than watch another minute of cable TV News. All that to emphasize that I would have never in a million years figured that The Universe was a “male” entity. But it is what it is.

I found The Universe drinking heavily late one cold winter's afternoon in a dive bar about half way between Santa Fe and Taos, New Mexico near the Rio Grande River. Now of course The Universe is not God but I decided to work my way up the hierarchy, as it were. God in all due time , mind you. It's process. The sunlight outside is preposterously bright but the air is so cold that a half inch of old snow doesn't melt off the cactus even in the full light of the afternoon sun. Inside the bar is dark heated by a wood stove and the air is so bone dry that your nose hairs start to burn after a while and you it's quiet – which I it never is! - you can hear your own skin crinkling up. Anyone who lives here for any length of time ends up with skin looking like worn out leather. The Universe is sitting at the small bar alone big German looking guy mid thirties, I'd guess, running big, bony fingers through his thinning, dirty blonde hair when I first set eyes on Him. I can tell he's not a resident because his skin is smooth as a baby's butt. I set next to Him and introduce myself and The Universe nods and smiles politely, says hello, but does not identify Himself. I tell the bartender to bring two of what He is having and The Universe smiles and overs up a toast, “to you, Mate”. Good thing for me in this one case that I know my alcoholics. The Universe is a morose alcoholic who passes through a euphoric phase, I determine, and I hoped that he was still in the euphoric phase. I was already thinking that when He hit that morose phase, I want to be miles away from this place. After our drinks come, a single malt Scotch, I discover, neat, I ask of Him as casually as I can manage, “so You do a Walk In, did You?” His drink stopped half way up to His lips. I could see calculation flash across His face for just a beat then He said, also non nonchalantly as you please, “suicide case” downing the rest of His drink and slamming it on on the counter, “load me up,” He said to the barkeep in a cheerful, friendly tone. No hint of German in his voice. California, I guessed. I knew then that I had to jump in for The Universe would cross that threshold from euphoria to morose any time now if indeed He hadn't already - “I want to know about God,” I asked, “anything You can tell me?”. He started laughing then coughing so hard that I thought He might throw up then after this paroxysm settled down said, “don't we all, Mate, don't we all”, still apparently amused by my question. “Seriously?” I insisted. Without looking at me then, The Universe said matter of factly, “the closest thing to what you humans conceive of as a “God” is light. Insofar as I could answer such preposterous question, the answer is light. All that you is light. The truth is light just light passing through light, on and on – do you see?” Turning to look at me with those eyes as he asked, “Do you see?” So I asked without missing a beat, “to be clear then, you are not actually saying that light IS God or that God IS light?”. The Universe downed another glass and it hit the thick, wood bar with an empty bang. He just crossed that threshold and I left forthwith, man. I left Him there in the growing shadow cast by the canyon walls around that little dive bar and I hauled as up a short cut I knew on a jeep road that climbed two thousand feet in elevation over a relatively few miles up the eastern escarpment of the canyon where the cold, winter sun now dropping low into the western sky still shown bright. “The closest thing to what you humans conceive of as a God, is light” … it made sense in some way to me that was as of yet far beyond articulation?