Bruce

      

By Marty Boyle

Marty Boyle   (This time around, Soul has returned to the Great Hall to visit her guardian angel, Epheniel, and to share her physical life experiences.)   As I walked inside the Great Hall, my eyes took a moment to adjust to the light before I carefully scanned my surroundings. The magnificence struck a cord deep within me, and I stared at the towering stained glass windows sparkling in the brilliant light, the masterful artwork gracing the walls that knew no earthly rival, and the delicate statuary placed throughout the Hall, and was freshly amazed. As I gazed around me, trying to take it all in, Zeke came bounding forward to greet me.   “Hi, Soul. It be great to see ye! Ah’ve got a joke for ye!” he giggled.   I grinned at his effervescent personality. “Hello, Zeke. I’m all ears!”   When he looked confused, I explained. “It’s a human expression. It means I’m excited to hear your joke.”   Zeke nodded. “Okay, then, here ‘tis, ears and all. God be talking to uh, ... Wait. Was it Raphael? No, Ah don’t think so. Could it have been Gabriel? No, he went out that night. Maybe it be Uriel.”   I gently interrupted. “Is this part of the joke, Zeke, or can’t you remember how it goes?”   He lit up. “Wait! It be Michael! That was it! Okay. Now Ah can do it. Ye ready?” I nodded again and he began. Again.   “Okay. God be talking to Michael the Archangel one day and He says, ‘Mike, Ah’m whupped.” Zeke looked at me. “Ye know sometimes we go by nicknames instead of our formal ones. Ye know, like Zeke for Ezekiel? Well, this was still Michael, the Archangel. God was just using his nickname. I thought it might help with the joke. Just wanted to make that clear so ye get the joke.”   I smiled at the sprite, tamping down my impatience. I didn’t want to be rude, but I had lots of questions for Epheniel, and was anxious to see her. “I understand, but thank you for clarifying it for me, Zeke.”   “No problem, Soul. ‘Tis a great joke. Ye’ll love it!” His face fell. “’Tis great so far, isn’t it?” I bobbed my head up and down, nodding with as much enthusiasm as possible. He rubbed his chin pensively. “”Let’s see, where was I?”   “God was talking to Michael.”   “Oh, yeah. Mike. See, that’s his nickname like mine is Zeke. Get it? The joke’s a lot funnier if ye tell tell it right.” I nodded. Again. My head felt like a bobble-head doll, but I smiled politely. Keep your mouth shut and this joke will eventually have an ending. I instantly regretted that thought as soon as it had crossed my brain. When will I remember that thoughts are heard on this realm? I was preparing an apology, when I realized that Zeke was so caught up in the telling of the joke, that he had not heard me. I breathed a sigh of relief, and vowed to practice more patience, be supportive, and brush away all such thoughts until Zeke got to the punchline.   “Anyway,” Zeke repeated, “God be talking to Mike one day and He says, ...”   “I got that part, Zeke. What’s the next line?”   A look of dismay crossed the sprite’s face. “Ah, ye made me forget the next line, Lass. Ah have to start over again now.”   “Of course you do. Go ahead and I’ll wait patiently for the new part.”   “Ye’re a swell soul, Soul! Okay. One day, God be talking to Mike.” He looked at me, almost daring me to speak. I pursed my lips together and pretended to lock them with an invisible key. He grinned. “’Mike,’ God says, ‘Ah’m tired.’ Or was it ‘beat?’ What was that word?”   I unlocked my lips. “’Whupped,’ Zeke. God was whupped.”   His face fell again. “Have ye heard this joke?” When I assured him that I hadn’t and my guess was simply a stab in the dark, he continued. “Whupped. That’s it, Soul. Ye gotta have the right word for these funny jokes or they’re not funny, ye know?” The bobble head effect was once again set into motion. “Okay. Where was Ah?”   “God was talking to Mike one day and says, ‘Ah’m whupped.’”   I held my breath, hoping we could finally get past this part and onto the next line. Zeke grinned at me and continued. “Mike,’ He says, ‘Ah just created a 23-hour period of alternating light and darkness on Mars.’” Zeke paused and I inwardly groaned, but kept the smile bright on my face. “Wait,” he said seriously, “are days 23 or 24 hours long?”   “I don’t know about Mars, but on Earth, they are 24 hours long.” I was hoping short-and-sweet might encourage the same from him.   “Oh, yeah. Ah always get that mixed up. Oh, and wait – Earth! That be it! Ye’re from Earth, aren’t ye?” When I nodded, he grinned again. “Now Ah have it! Okay. God was talking to Mike one day and says, ‘Mike,’ He says, ‘Ah’m whupped. Ah just created a 24-hour period of alternating light and darkness on Earth.” Once again, I held my breath and pursed my lips more tightly. “Mike looks at Him and says, ‘What are ye gonna do now?’ And God says,...’ Ye’re gonna love this, Soul. Ye be ready?”   “I couldn’t be any more ready if I tried, Zeke. Go ahead. Tell me the ending.”   “Okay. Mike looks at Him ...” I tried not to sigh and kept my smile bright. “Ye’re gonna love this!”   “I’m sure I will. Please finish the joke.”   “Okay. Mike looks at Him and says, “What are ye gonna do now?’ And God says, ‘Call it a day!’ Do ye get it, Soul? Call it a day? Isn’t that the funniest joke ye’ve ever heard?”   I had to laugh. Zeke was so obviously taken with himself and his joke that it really was funny. “Let me guess, Zeke,” I finally said as his hilarity wore down long enough to hear me, “You haven’t told too many jokes, have you?”   Zeke’s mouth dropped open. “How’d ye know?”   “Just a lucky guess.”   “Ye’re right. Ah never used to be able to tell a good joke, but Ah’ve been practicing. Ye’re my first audience now that Ah know how to do it right!” He was obviously thrilled with his delivery, and I made a mental note to provide him with a good joke book when I returned next time.   “Well, you did a great job, Zeke. That is a good one!” I paused, hoping not to offend. “You wouldn’t mind if we moved along to Epheniel now, would you? I’m rather anxious to see her today.”   “Oh, my, my no! Ah mean, yes! Let’s get ye where ye long to be.” We started off at a fast clip, and it wasn’t long before we were standing in front of my guardian angel’s door. He looked at me anxiously. “Ah hope my joke didn’t cause a problem?”   “Zeke, it was a wonderful joke and you told it beautifully!” I kissed him on the tip of his nose, rapped on the door and opened it. He turned and I watched him slowly walk back down the hall. Guilt immediately engulfed me, knowing my reaction to the joke wasn’t what the sprite had hoped for.   “Zeke!” I called. He spun around, his eyebrows raised in question. “I have one for you. What do you call a celestial being who hangs around doorways?”   He grinned. “What?”   “An arch-angel!” He doubled over in laughter and I stood in the doorway, enjoying the sight.   “Soul,” he finally gasped, “Would ye mind if I used that?”   “Go right ahead, Zeke. Be my guest – it’s now yours!” He continued down the hall, repeating the joke and chuckling. Relieved that Zeke was back to being Zeke, I turned to my angel and was greeted with a radiant smile, emanating love from halfway across the room. I closed my eyes and inhaled it slowly.   After Epheniel and I settled on her sofa, I consciously inhaled the beauty of her realm. Finally, she broke the silence.   “So, have you had other adventures since we last met?”   “Well, I’ve been reading lots of books lately, and one was about accessing your soul name. That sounded pretty neat, so I thought I’d try it.”   A look of pure-driven-snow innocence crossed my angel’s face. Suddenly, a deep voice echoed throughout the room.   “And did you access it?”   I jumped up, and much to my delight, found Archangel Michael behind us. However, my jaw dropped when I took in his look. His slicked back hair was jet black and shorter. One curl drooped over his forehead. He was dressed in what appeared to be a glittery purple Spandex outfit: bell-bottom pants with silver sequins running up each side of the pants, long, flowing purple sleeved-top, which were pulled in at the wrist with silver satin cuffs. His silver-sequined collar was open and glittery. Smiling and infinitely pleased with himself, Michael turned around. A short silver cape was attached to his back, and fluttered with each movement. Suddenly, a guitar appeared in his hands. He struck a dramatic pose.   For a long moment, I was speechless. Agog. Befuddled. Finally, I squeaked, “You look like a lounge lizard from the 70’s!”   Instantly, the conference room became a darkened lounge-of-sorts. Michael walked onstage. When he arrived at dead center, a spotlight flooded him. He moved to the mic, and with a twang of his guitar accompanying him, belted out, “I ain’t nothing but a hound dog, crying all the time…”   I couldn’t help it – I laughed uproariously. The spotlight faded away, as did the lounge and guitar, although the Spandex remained. Finally, I got myself under control. “ELVIS? Michael, the Archangel, is channeling Elvis?!”   Michael/Elvis nodded happily. “What can I say? I’m a big fan of the King of Rock & Roll!” He leaned forward and whispered, “And, I might just add, it appears that he’s a big fan of mine, so we hang out as often as our schedules allow.” He sighed, and then pulled himself together. “But, enough about me. I believe you were saying that you wanted to access your soul name? Did you?”   I nodded, trying to contain my giggles each time I looked at The King. “I did the same thing I’d done to get Epheniel’s name – you know, three nights of asking – that sort of thing. And sure enough, as I was drifting off to sleep one night, a name began to run across my mind’s eyes: B – R – U – C – E. Immediately, I woke and sat up, more than a little disappointed. BRUCE? Now, mind you, I have nothing personal against the name Bruce, but I wanted something more …,” I glanced at these glorious angels, chagrined at my own very non-angelic, human reaction.   Michael interrupted. His brows were furrowed, and his voice rose. “And may I ask what’s wrong with Bruce? I’ll have you know that Bruce is a very fine name! I have lots of friends on both side the veil with the name Bruce.” Before I could get a word in edgewise, he continued.” The first king of Scotland was Robert, the Bruce! There’s also Bruce Lee, Lennie Bruce, Bruce Springsteen – hey, I’m a big fan of The Boss, as well!” Instantly, gone was the lounge lizard attire. In its place was a smart gray dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up, black vest, black jeans and black boots. His hair remained dark, but was no longer slicked back, the drooping curl gone.   I glanced at Epheniel, who merely shrugged. Apparently, I was on my own. With The King and The Boss. I cleared my throat. “Well, you see, … well, I mean, ... you know, … I wanted something more elegant … more … celestial.”   “CELESTIAL? What do I have to do – scrounge up some passing light entity, hand him a crown, and trot him out to you as the great and powerful Archangel Bruce?” He slowly shook his head. “I just don’t get you humans sometimes. What’s up with you and the name thing? You’re just so …”   “… human?” I offered with a straight face, and then turned to face Epheniel. “I’m not done with my story, since someone interrupted me. Would you like to hear the rest?” Epheniel nodded and I glanced back at Michael, who grinned broadly. I couldn’t help but chuckle.   I continued. “Suddenly, a voice in my head told me to look back at the spelling of my soul’s name.”   “Voices in the ol’ head, eh, Soul? Looks like you might have gotten that Joan of Arc wish after all!” He leaned forward. “And for the record, that would have been me in your head – both with Joan and you!” Michael boasted, puffing out his chest in a pompous manner.   Unsure of what to make of the events, my humanity and I plowed ahead. “So, I looked back at the name running across my mind and found there were three more letters at the end: B – R – U – C – E – S – S – A.” I paused at gazed at both of my favorite angels. So, my soul’s name is Brucessa?”   Michael spoke softly. “Actually, your soul name – or any entity’s – is sacred and cannot be pronounced by the human tongue. Soul names are like a whisper of a breeze on a butterfly’s wing. Remember, humans’ thoughts become their realities. You wished to have a name that was more – hmm, what did you call it? Oh, yeah, celestial. Your thought became reality. Hence, you received the name Bruce.”   “Brucessa,” I quietly corrected.   “Whatever, Bruce,” Michael replied with just a hint of a smile on his angelic face. Dressed as The Boss. “I’ve got to run, but it’s been fun messin’ with you!” He glanced at my angel. “’Bye, Eppelheimer. Catch ya later, Bruce!” And like the crown and scepter, he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.   I gazed at the spot where Michael had been standing for a long moment before addressing my angel. “Without making any judgements, Michael is a different sort of angel, isn’t he? I have to be honest, after getting over my initial disappointment that Michael isn’t a fan of being perceived as a young Greek god, I rather look forward to seeing what he’s chosen to wear.”   “That’s because your paradigms are changing, as are your perceptions, as well.” She looked at me closely, noticing my alarm. “And that’s a good thing, Soul, or should I say, Brucessa?”   I sighed. “It is a beautiful name, isn’t it, although I’m not sure it really suits me. Perhaps Michael is right about that Bruce thing. Until the name grows on me, please continue to call me Soul. That name reminds me of who I really am, just like the rest of humanity, you know?” When Epheniel nodded, I sighed again in deep contentment. Perhaps there really is some kind of correlation between sighing and becoming highly evolved. I’ll have to give that more thought.   I gazed at my beautiful angel for a long moment. And tried to stifle a yawn.   Epheniel smiled gently. “Looks as if you could use a nap, Soul.” I opened my mouth to protest, but another yawn escaped. I looked chagrined at being caught out as human.   “Perhaps you’re right, Epheniel,” I murmured as my eyes grew heavy. “Maybe if I could rest my eyes for a moment, …”   Some time later, I stretched out on my bed, rejuvenated. I glanced around the bedroom, hoping that someOne had followed me home.   Search not for me outside of you, Soul, for I am forever within your soul. Until we speak again, live your life joyfully, loving and extending kindnesses to all.   I sighed contentedly. I will, dear guardian, I will.     (Excerpt from This Time Around – https://www.martyboyle.com– mjboyle607@aol.com)