All Living : A Seedvision Saga (9781621473923) by Michael C. Humphrey Page A
Authors: Michael C. Humphrey
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bartender from behind his glossed mahogany counter.
Lester glanced over at him and then around the room at the two dozen or so patrons still in the bar. A quick glance down at his watch showed the time to be 11:45 p.m.
“Al,” said Lester as Al put the second journal away, “I can’t believe it’s so late already. This is an amazing tale.”
“Not so much a tale,” said Al, “as a story; my story.”
“It’s phenomenal, Al. Almost too incredible, don’t you think? I mean, I’m just a guy. I work, I eat, I party. I come home after a long day and fall asleep in my easy chair with a beer between my legs. Who am I to hear this story? Who am I that you would think I could believe all this?”
“You’re my friend, Lester, and I picked you because we’ve known each other a long time. There’s no one else I’d rather tell. And I believe that the Lord put you into my life for this purpose.”
“What? Not just to be your friend? Not to be your buddy but just to hear you tell a story?”
“Among other things,” replied Al.
“Do you really feel that God chose me to hear you say all these things?” asked Lester, with no little skepticism.
“I do.”
Lester shook his head. “To think that my buddy has walked in the Garden of Eden, has talked to God, eaten seeds from the tree of life, and lived nearly six thousand years. Its gonna’ take me more than a day and a few drinks to buy it hook, line and sinker.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Al grinned. “He must have a plan for you as well. Perhaps you need to know this story to be equipped for what comes next.”
“What comes next?” asked Lester.
“That I do not know,” said Al.
They sat in silence for a minute as the waitress drifted over.
“Last call, boys,” she said. “Can I get you one more?”
“Al?”
“Nothing for me thanks.”
“Well, I’ll have one more before he closes his tab,” said Lester.
“I’ll be right back,” said the waitress. “I’ll bring you your bill, sir.”
“Thank you,” said Al.
As the waitress left to get Lester his last Coors Light, he took a drag from his still freshly lit cigarette.
“All these years we’ve known each other, Al…to think you’ve been living a life that seemed pretty normal. It’s beyond me. I think I’d have gone bonkers years ago if I were you.”
“Maybe I did go bonkers, Les. Maybe this, what you see before you, is my version of bonkers.”
“Yeah, well you fit right in,” said Lester.
“The thing is, Les, I have a lot more to tell you than just my life story, and I’m running out of time.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I told you a month or so ago that I’m moving to the Middle East next week.”
“Do you really think that’s wise, right now? The way things are shaping up over there?” asked Lester.
“Well, wise or not, I’ve got one more thing to do for God, and I can’t just run from it. Remember the story of Jonah?”
“Vaguely,” said Lester, “but what do you mean ‘one more thing?’ Are we that close to the end, Al?”
“Yeah, we’re that close.”
Lester sighed, “And here I never even learned to play the guitar.”
“Start now. There’s still time.”
The waitress came back with a draft beer, and Al’s check for thirty-four dollars and fifteen cents. “We’re out of cold bottles, sir. It was this or a can. Is a draft okay?”
“Draft’s fine by me,” said Lester.
The waitress smiled. “It’s on the house.”
“Well, thank you very much.”
Al handed her three twenty dollar bills. “Keep the change, my dear.”
“Oh, thank you sir. Have a good night.”
When she had gone, Lester said, “Twenty-five dollar tip, Al? That’s pretty generous.”
“Well, you can’t take it with you.”
“No, but you could leave it behind for your old buddy,” quipped Lester.
“The thought has crossed my mind.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so eager for me to check out.”
Lester smiled. “I’d rather
Lester glanced over at him and then around the room at the two dozen or so patrons still in the bar. A quick glance down at his watch showed the time to be 11:45 p.m.
“Al,” said Lester as Al put the second journal away, “I can’t believe it’s so late already. This is an amazing tale.”
“Not so much a tale,” said Al, “as a story; my story.”
“It’s phenomenal, Al. Almost too incredible, don’t you think? I mean, I’m just a guy. I work, I eat, I party. I come home after a long day and fall asleep in my easy chair with a beer between my legs. Who am I to hear this story? Who am I that you would think I could believe all this?”
“You’re my friend, Lester, and I picked you because we’ve known each other a long time. There’s no one else I’d rather tell. And I believe that the Lord put you into my life for this purpose.”
“What? Not just to be your friend? Not to be your buddy but just to hear you tell a story?”
“Among other things,” replied Al.
“Do you really feel that God chose me to hear you say all these things?” asked Lester, with no little skepticism.
“I do.”
Lester shook his head. “To think that my buddy has walked in the Garden of Eden, has talked to God, eaten seeds from the tree of life, and lived nearly six thousand years. Its gonna’ take me more than a day and a few drinks to buy it hook, line and sinker.”
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” Al grinned. “He must have a plan for you as well. Perhaps you need to know this story to be equipped for what comes next.”
“What comes next?” asked Lester.
“That I do not know,” said Al.
They sat in silence for a minute as the waitress drifted over.
“Last call, boys,” she said. “Can I get you one more?”
“Al?”
“Nothing for me thanks.”
“Well, I’ll have one more before he closes his tab,” said Lester.
“I’ll be right back,” said the waitress. “I’ll bring you your bill, sir.”
“Thank you,” said Al.
As the waitress left to get Lester his last Coors Light, he took a drag from his still freshly lit cigarette.
“All these years we’ve known each other, Al…to think you’ve been living a life that seemed pretty normal. It’s beyond me. I think I’d have gone bonkers years ago if I were you.”
“Maybe I did go bonkers, Les. Maybe this, what you see before you, is my version of bonkers.”
“Yeah, well you fit right in,” said Lester.
“The thing is, Les, I have a lot more to tell you than just my life story, and I’m running out of time.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I told you a month or so ago that I’m moving to the Middle East next week.”
“Do you really think that’s wise, right now? The way things are shaping up over there?” asked Lester.
“Well, wise or not, I’ve got one more thing to do for God, and I can’t just run from it. Remember the story of Jonah?”
“Vaguely,” said Lester, “but what do you mean ‘one more thing?’ Are we that close to the end, Al?”
“Yeah, we’re that close.”
Lester sighed, “And here I never even learned to play the guitar.”
“Start now. There’s still time.”
The waitress came back with a draft beer, and Al’s check for thirty-four dollars and fifteen cents. “We’re out of cold bottles, sir. It was this or a can. Is a draft okay?”
“Draft’s fine by me,” said Lester.
The waitress smiled. “It’s on the house.”
“Well, thank you very much.”
Al handed her three twenty dollar bills. “Keep the change, my dear.”
“Oh, thank you sir. Have a good night.”
When she had gone, Lester said, “Twenty-five dollar tip, Al? That’s pretty generous.”
“Well, you can’t take it with you.”
“No, but you could leave it behind for your old buddy,” quipped Lester.
“The thought has crossed my mind.”
“Really?”
“Don’t look so eager for me to check out.”
Lester smiled. “I’d rather
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