The Universe, Short Story

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. Just a little, mind you. 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 which is only vaguely, really, having some basic idea what a dog may be interested in, you know? That's not to equate any human with a dog not what I mean. I mean dogs can't be compared to us. They're another level of better than us. But I painfully digress ...

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 suspect it's a lot more common than people think, myself. The vast majority of us are not so far along the scale as Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory nor so smart … and I think the two do go hand in hand, Asperger 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? Like being hit by a truck and no one gets 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.

So here's the deal, I finally 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. ( I know, right, who would have thunk it?)
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 a process. I see The Universe more like the CEO of the company while God is the owner. 

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 so bone dry that your nose hairs start to burn after a while and when it's quiet enough – 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 sit 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 make it doubles and The Universe smiles and offers me up a toast, “to you, Mate”, he says in an Aussie accent, to my delight.

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 why did you take advantage of a Walk-In body, Universe. What was it suicidal guy, guessing?”

His drink stops half way up to His lips. I could see calculation flash across His face for just a beat then He says, non nonchalantly as you may please, “good guess, a suicide case,” downing the rest of His drink then slamming the empty glass down the counter, “load me up,” He tells the barkeep in a cheerful, friendly tone. It makes me think of that guy Steve Erwin. I really liked Steve Irwin.

"You're buying, my new Friend," the universe winks.

"I'd insist on it," I reply. I note that he doesn't go into why he had entered the body of this suicidal fellow but let that go. Not my real concern here.

I saw that I would have to jump in for The Universe was about to cross that threshold from euphoria to morose any time now if indeed He hadn't already - “I want to know about God,” I ask, “anything You can tell me?”.

He starts laughing then coughing so hard that my thought was He might throw up then after this paroxysm settled down said, “don't we all, Mate, don't we all”, in his Steve Erwin voice very much amused.

“Seriously?” I insist.

Without looking at me then, The Universe says matter of fact, “the closest thing to what you humans conceive of as a “God”, is light. so then insofar as I could answer such preposterous question, the answer is light. Everything is light, Mate. Everything is light passing through light, on and on and on – do you see?”

Turning to look at me with those eyes as he asks, “Do you see?”

I suppress a urge to flee asking instead, “to be clear then, you are not actually saying that light IS God or that God IS light?”.

The Universe downs another glass and it hits the thick, wood bar with an empty bang. I see Him cross that threshold and practically run for the door after tossing a couple twenties on the bar. I leave Him there in the growing shadow cast by the steep canyon walls around the little dive bar and I haul ass back up a short cut on a jeep road that climbs two thousand feet in elevation over a relatively few miles quickly to the 8,000 tableland on the western side of the Rio Grande River and climbing steadily up the eastern escarpment, I climb back up into the cold, winter sun now dropping low into the western sky.

“The closest thing to what you humans conceive of as a God, is light” … it made sense in some way to me that is as of yet far beyond articulation?