Johnny woke up to a kind of adulation he could only have dreamed of in the past. The episode with God’s Hand lightening bolt had made him famous as a new prophet throughout Europe and the United States. In recognition of the ancient Jewish mystic benefits that his wife Sarhara had persuaded him had helped him become a recognized prophet, he added the name of their religion to his own. Sahara’s father, Rabbi Frenbren, was not sure whether this was to be taken as a blessing or a curse, and retreated into his library to study his ancient Kabala texts in hope of finding an answer. Johnny had no such doubts and returned to the United States, which awaited his arrival with great anticipation.
Johnny said, “Look at that Sarhara, there are thousands of our followers waiting to greet us here at the airport. Isn’t this wonderful?”
“Yes, yes, it is wonderful,” replied Sahara, tugging at his sleeve. “The people love you, but what do we next?”
Johnny smiled and said, “I have a great idea, let’s tour all the states by train just like Roosevelt did, or was that Truman. Maybe I should run for office.”
Back home in the South of France Rabbi Frenbren felt a sudden chill as a cold wind blew through his library room window. Strange he thought for it to be so cold in the middle of the summer, but stranger things than this were about to happen. Johnny was going on tour, and he was running for a new cabinet position he wanted created as head religionist for the United States. He harbored no hesitation about the legal restrictions on separation of church and state. To Johnny’s way of thinking anything that Johnny did was legal because he was a prophet who carried the message of God.
Johnny had the ‘word’, and the ‘word’ was, “I’m in charge of religion around here.”
At lunch that day over cracked crab and lobster, Sarhara told him, “I hope you haven’t bitten off more than you can chew. Lobster isn’t kosher you know. The other major religions won’t be happy about this.”
Johnny smirked and said, “I make the rules around here.”
Sarhara smiled and replied, “I know, I know, but even you have to be accountable to a higher authority.”
Johnny turned pale, bowed his head and said, “Let us pray,” as he choked on a lobster claw that had gotten stuck in his throat. For once he was speechless except to struggle in a hoarse voice to whisper, “God has spoken. I will return to my ministry. No more politics for me. I have been given the ‘word’, and the ‘word’ is if I don’t shut up I will lose the ‘word’. I have gotten the message.”
Sahara said to herself, “I hope so, but I don’t believe it. I love him, but he will never shut up. Maybe I will just have to keep feeding him lobster. I wonder why a genius like him doesn’t know to take the shells off? I wonder if my father and his ancient mystic Kabala spells have something to do with this? Something doesn’t smell kosher around here.”
*****
Hi, I am Arthur Levine, the author of the novel Johnny Oops. To read more about Johnny and his wild escapades please access: http://johnnyoops.blogspot.com
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