Jonathots Daily Blog
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Matthew leaned up from his prone position on the bed and kissed the very naked back of Leonora, the oboist.
“Don’t do that,” she complained. “Now my back is all wet from your gooey lips and I feel cold.”
“You’re welcome,” said Matthew with a lovey-dovey hum.
The two of them lay in the bed, very still, for a solid minute, maybe two. Matthew interrupted the silence.
“You had a great idea,” he said.
“Which one?” Leonora asked.
“You know. When you decided to divide our evening into two parts–dinner, then the movie–and you declared it two different dates, and so when we ended up coming to my place to have sex, it was like we were finishing up the second date…”
“Actually the third,” corrected Leonora. “You forgot about the time we spent with the quintet in the Gallery.”
“So we waited until the third date, then, to have sex. Very proper,” Matthew noted approvingly.
“I thought so,” purred Leonora.
“You know what I like?” asked Matthew.
Leonora suddenly sat straight up in the bed and turned to Matthew. “You’re one of those. One of those goddamn guys who can’t keep his mouth shut and go to sleep. You’re part girl. That’s it, you know. You’ve got to have conversation, commentary, closeness and cuddle-wuddles to make you feel like what we did had really deep meaning, instead of being like two baboons cracking a nut.”
Matthew eased up to sit on his butt. “Wow. There’s an image I don’t need. So are you gonna think I’m weird if I tell you that this was great, and it felt great and you were great?”
Leonora sighed. “No, I think I pretty well knew that when you finished your orgasm by singing ‘American Pie.'”
“I always liked that song,” said Matthew. “Very underrated.”
“And so are you, my dear,” she said, patting him on the head. She pulled back the sheet and walked across the room totally naked, attempting to gather her belongings.
“Are you leaving?” asked Matthew.
Leonora turned to speak to him as she squeezed into her panties. “Yes. I have a life. My horn calls me. I have friends. Somewhere in my house I have a pet cat, even though he rarely makes an appearance. I just assume he’s still there because the food disappears and the house smells like shit.”
As she finished speaking, the doorbell rang. Matthew looked over at Leonora and mouthed, “I don’t know…”
He leaped to his feet and said, “Hold on a second. Let’s both put on those thick white terry cloth robes, and go to the door and answer it, pretending we are Mr. and Mrs. Normal Tourist from Des Moines, Iowa.”
“Make it Rapid City, South Dakota and you’ve got a deal,” said Leonora.
They donned the robes and headed to the door. Opening it, they found Soos standing there with a gentleman who greatly resembled Jubal Carlos, but with a much different haircut.
Matthew, displaying great shock, asked, “Don’t you think you should call me first before you just show up?”
Soos pushed past him, gave Leonora an uncomfortable hug and stepped into the living room. “We tried to call. You don’t answer, you’re never home, your mailbox is full. It’s almost like you’re dead, but nobody’s found out yet.”
The Jubal lookalike held out his hand. “I’m Jasper–Jubal’s brother. Nice to meet you.” He, too. walked right past the visitors from the Dakotas and stepped into the living room.
Jasper and Soos found nice seats on the couch as Matthew pointed to Soos and said to Leonora, “This is my friend from college. We call her Soos… Ahhh…You’ve already been introduced to Jasper…”
He turned to Soos and Jasper. “This is my…What should I say? My protegé in love.”
“What the hell?” Leonora gave a quick wave to Soos and Jasper.
Matthew, stung by his own awkward description, stumbled into the room. “What is it you want, Soos?”
Soos looked around the room, her eyes falling on nine or ten bottles of Jack Daniels, sitting in a corner, abandoned.
“Well,” she said, “I thought that since you’re the executive producer of this organization, you might like to have an update.”
Matthew sat down in a big, plump chair. “Well, actually, I get updates on the news broadcasts.”
“Well, that’s not very personal,” said Jasper.
“Exactly,” said Matthew. “That’s what I’m trying to avoid. Getting personal.”
“Who are these people?” Leonora asked Matthew, obviously perturbed.
Soos stepped in to offer an explanation. “We are his comrades, business cohorts and missionaries, if you will, on this project to make Jesus popular again. You may have heard of it…”
Leonora rolled her eyes like eyes had never been rolled before. “Yes, I’ve heard of it.”
Turning to Matthew, she asked, “Are you part of this?”
Matthew pointed at Leonora and said, “Great question. I got the thing started. Jubal Carlos, who’s his brother…” He pointed to Jasper. “Picked up the ball, and now it seems that Little Boy Blue is blowing the horn of insanity.”
“No shit,” said Leonora.
“Ooh, a non-believer,” Soos squealed with some giddy glee. “I love non-believers.”
“I am not a non-believer,” snapped Leonora. “I just don’t call it God. When I was asked in college about my faith, I told them I was a Panist.”
Jasper wrinkled his brow. “Panist?”
Leonora stepped across the room and found her own seat in a straight-back chair. “Yes. Greek. Pan–all. Ist–me. I believe in everything, everyone and every creature. I make no distinction between the busy ant and your Jewish God.”
“Wow,” said Soos. And nothing more.
Matthew sat back admiringly. For the first time in many years, he realized he had made love to a woman who actually had a brain.
Soos, unperturbed, launched.
She explained that Michael Hinston had become an inspiration in Soulsbury to all around him–a leader and compassionate man, seeking to help others.
On and on she spoke. Of miracles. Moments. She mentioned the wonderful series done by Jennifer Carmen in North Carolina, featuring Jubal’s life and story. She nearly cried when explaining that the United Nations had put out a proclamation stating that this was to become the “Decade of Kindness.”
When Soos finally slowed up, Jasper jumped in. “Word has it you’re not that enthusiastic about the things we’re doing, Matthew. Is that right?”
Matthew just sat and stared at Jasper. He didn’t want to hurt the feelings of a man he had just met, but he also didn’t want to lie and pretend–especially in front of his exciting new lover.
“It’s just my experience,” said Matthew, “that the more you believe in God, the weaker you become. I’m tired of being weak.”
Jasper stood to his feet, strolled across the room, turned on his heel and began.
“Did you ever hear the story, “Horace the horse? Yes, Horace the horse lived in a barn. Unlike the other horses, he determined he never to be trained, saddled and used to herd cows and ride across the plains. So every time the saddle was brought in his direction, he spit, snorted and kicked, scaring away all those who tried to tame him. The ranchers who owned the horses decided to refuse Horace any food. So when the other horses went out to work for the day, and Horace had a lot of time on his hooves, Horace decided he would trick them by trying out the pig feed and the chicken portions. At first he felt very smart, but he got weaker, sicker and pretty soon, he could barely stand on his four legs.”
“One day a young girl–the daughter of the owner of the ranch–brought him an apple and a bag of oats. It tasted so good. The next morning Horace the horse decided he’d join his brethren. So when they placed the saddle on his back, he didn’t look on it as a burden, but instead, an opportunity to carry someone else’s burden.”
Jasper stopped his story like a preacher does when he finishes and it’s almost time for the Doxology.
“What the hell…?” asked Matthew. “Horace the horse??”
Leonora interrupted. “Oh, you didn’t understand, Matthew? Our friend Jasper, here, thinks that all God’s creatures should be saddled. Saddled with guilt. Saddled with fear. Saddled with rules. And saddled with worry.”
She paused. “And if we’re not saddled, well, they’re going to tell us right now–there’s no way we can be happy.”
Jasper tried to interrupt but Leonora held up a hand. “No,” she said. “You shut the fuck up. You come waltzing in here, and you’ve decided that you’ve got so much God you just have to spill it on everybody else. Well, here you go, big fella. Some of God’s horses don’t want saddles. They want to run free. They want to see a mountain in the distance, and believe it’s thirty miles away, start running toward it and discover it’s a hundred. But they still keep running. Here’s your problem. That little Dixie accent you throw in so you’ll be like part of the people? You think it makes you sound real. Simple. You know what I hear when you talk like that? I hear little girls screaming, running from the church that was just firebombed by the Ku Klux Klan. So if your goal today was to impress me with how wonderful your Lordy Lord is, well, you just made me hate the son-of-a-bitch even more.”
The room fell still.
Soos quietly stood to her feet and said, “You’re absolutely right. We’ve been rude.”
Jasper nodded his head, and walked toward the door. “I was wrong. I must have gotten in my preacher mode.”
The two left without saying another word, finding their own exit. After the door shut behind them, Matthew sat in his chair and Leonora walked over to stare out the window at the Las Vegas playground below.
They had learned a lot about each other in a very short period of time.
The question was, could they live with it?
The producers of Jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation for this inspirational opportunity
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