The New Millennium

I was sitting in a bookstore, reading with my headphones on. Jazz music filled my head. My backpack was beside me on the floor.

"Hey," said a man in sweatpants.

I slid the headphones off my head and lay them on the table. Still the music played quietly from the tabletop. I looked up and saw the man standing at my elbow. A hood shadowed his face. He was grinning broadly. I could see his teeth.

"Hey, man," he said. "Have you heard of the New Millennium?" he asked.

I paused. "What about it?" I asked.

"The year 2000," he said. "Jesus is coming back," he declared.

"That's good news," I said.

He nodded excitedly, took off his hood and said victoriously: "And here I am!"

"Good to meet you," I said and offered him a seat. "Take a seat," I said.

"Thank you," Jesus said. He sat down heavily in the chair. I picked up my book and began again to read.

"That looks like a good book," Jesus said.

"It is," I said. "A friend gave it to me out east for Christmas."

"Christmas," he said. Then, "Hey man," Jesus said, "you got any weed?"

"No," I said. "I'm sorry, but I do not."

"Yeah," Jesus said. "You probly don't smoke weed. You probly got a good job and a nice house. You probly don't smoke weed."

"I work in a warehouse," I said. "It's a pretty good job."

"Yeah," Jesus said.

It was raining outside.

"Hey, man. Can you spare a dollar? I lost my bus pass, and I just gotta get home tonight so's I'm not sleeping on the street. Shit, you got a dollar? Just a dollar, please."

"I think so," I said and fished a dollar out of my pocket and handed it to him.

"Thanks, man. God bless you," Jesus said.

Through the reflection of the bookshelves and magazines racks in the window I could see the headlights of cars passing by in the rain.

A man was standing behind one of the racks, flipping through a magazine. He tilted his head back and peeked over the magazines at Jesus and me sitting there talking to one another.

Jesus had my headphones on and was talking very loudly. "I dig this music," Jesus said. "It's got a real sweet groove."

The man hid his head again behind his magazine. It was a magazine about automobiles.

Jesus took off my headphones and lay them down on the table. Quietly, the music played continuously from the table top. Horns tooting, piano, and the driving chromatic bass up and down the scale. I could barely hear it. But undeniably, it was there. It was raining outside.

I looked up from my book and noticed that Jesus was staring at me. He leaned into my personal space. "Can I touch you?" he asked.

Outside, it was raining and the cars moved by, puddles splashing in the headlight beams. Jazz music played quietly from the table top.

I responded somberly, "No, sir. You cannot." He was leaning into my personal space. I could smell his breath. I looked down and began again to read.

Jesus looked very sad and made ready to leave. He put his hands in his pockets and stood up. "God bless you, son," he said and started walking towards the door.

I nodded and kept on reading my book.

The sturdy cover of the paperback was green, decorated with interconnected vines winding in and out, merging and diverging bifurcation. All things considered, it was a very nice book.

Jesus walked towards the door. But then he stopped and turned back towards me. He put his hands on my shoulders and leaned down and kissed the back of my head four times in the shape of a cross.

"God bless you," he muttered, and walked out the door into the rain. I just kept reading my book.