The long climb

ST. LOUIE'S BLUES

 

Everyone is coming. The meeting area will have to be extended. Plans must be made quickly and put into practice before too much harm is done. Our space is being invaded! The highest authority has been too easy, too lenient, for too long. He knows it and is about to make drastic changes that he deems necessary. This will be 'a listening' get- together. Residents will not vote.

 

We are all dressed appropriately in chaste white. Our robes are spotless. Not a feather in our wings is ruffled. The Omnipresent leader sits in the middle of a wide circle. His golden throne shines like the sun. Around the circle slightly crusted wings look grayish. Untrimmed beards look dowdy. Gowns are too revealing. These tainted ones must be silent.

 

Bits of small clouds break off as the outsiders' rings and bracelets disturb the tranquility. The puffs flutter only momentarily and disappear. It is known that most of these jewelry wearers, these drinkers of too much wine and ale, are kept apart from we who are worthy of our place.

 

New hopefuls walk slowly up the long hill. They stand like marble statues at the closed gate. One lone soul, calls out, 'We are here as directed. May we enter?' They receive no answer and must wait, no matter how long.

 

The Omnipotent rises. His voice is like velvet thunder. 'I believed all of you inside our circle had proven yourselves to be worthy, but we have been fooled.  For a moment he looks above them, nods to Mother Cabrini. She keeps her steady eyes on his face, kneels, rises and takes the hand of Isaac, a child who saved his little sister in a flood and came to be with us. The benevolent voice announces, 'All those who have integrated themselves falsely into our grace shall have to go down the hill forever more. You, and I, know who you are. You have sinned. When the moon rises once more, the gates shall open. Remove your graying wings and the sun will destroy them.' The sinful sneaks hang their heads low. Several ask for mercy but get none.

 

Mother Theresa watches the procession. Sister Lourdes gives a chalice to a small girl who had come thru the gates with her parents. Her mother could stay but chooses to go with her father. They take their daughter and leave together. Rough gray hoods with bristled robes await each in line. No one cries. Their true punishment awaits them.

 

The gate opens and pushes back the line that is waiting to enter. The sun glares. The moon is fading. A soft melodic voice sings out telling of the wondrous things he has done. The man had helped his parents, cared for them, fought Hitler. He made a large donation to St. Louis to construct its breathtaking arch. The Omnipotent watches, listens. The new arrival goes on. 'My name is Louis and I was born in Louisiana. I have left my entire fortune to the St. Louis new Art Museum and I have lead these people here. We would like to be allowed in.'

 

A message is sent to Louis. ' Your wife and child may enter. Your girlfriend must join the others going down the hill. Your money went to good use but did not make you a saint. Turn around Mr. Louie, go down the hill with the others. You will have plenty of time to sing the blues.'

 

The gate closes by itself.