| Commentary and Philosophy Script posted April 10, 2017 | Chapters: |
...14 15 -16- 17... 
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Prose Potlatch Challenge--Judgement Day
A chapter in the book Scripts
I'm Going to Tell Teacher Part I
by michaelcahill
The main character has just died and finds himself in a waiting room. He is bewildered as are the other people in the room. The gum chewing secretary is of little help. She gives instructions, but offers no answers to the endless questions being thrown her way. No one knows why they are there or, indeed, how they even got there. He's not aware that he has died. Fade in: Scene One Michael has fallen on to the court at the local gym clutching his heart. 911 has been called and CPR is in progress. Everyone has the impression he is dead, but they feel duty bound to go through the motions involved in such a circumstance. Jane Anything? No? Continue compressions. Gary One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand ... Johnny He's gone. There's not a drop of life there. Wow. I can't believe it. Just like that. He just scored and was dogging me down the court like a kid, dude ... like a damn kid. He had no business out here at that age. But that was him. He'd want to go like this, right? Defying age to the bitter end. Peter Pan if there ever was a Peter Pan. Mary Shut up, John. He's not dead yet. The EMTs are here now. There's hope. EMT number one You can stop now. We've got this. EMT number two. No pulse, no respiration. Okay, bag him. I'll continue compressions. Let's get him on the gurney. Call it in. Mary You can bring him back, right? EMT number one This isn't television. It's very rare. But we'll do our best, Ma'am. Fade out Scene Two Fade in Michael Miss. Damn it. I don't even know how I got here. You've got to tell me something. Who am I seeing. What in hell is this place? It's a dream, right? Yeah, I'm dreaming. Who the hell are these people? This dream sucks. Wake up, wake up, wake up .... Receptionist I told you, Michael. Just be patient. Everyone goes in turn. You'll be called in soon enough. Just relax. You have all the time in the world. There's magazines, coffee, make yourself at home. Michael glances in the corner and a dog, cat and rhesus monkey are playing dice with what appears to be Charles Darwin. The cat is winning and Darwin is squawking like a chicken and saying, "Cats can't read, I'm still right." Receptionist Michael? Is there a Michael here? Paging Michael? Breaker, breaker, you got a pair a nickels in the I25, Hot Mama's lookin' for the Mikester, come back. Anybody that wants to be like Mike then? Michael I'm right here. Jeesh. I just spoke to you three minutes ago. Receptionist I'm jest doin' ma job mister. Taint no cannabinol to a bein on the cluster of it all. Now the add said, buxom blonde and you're clearly as grey as the deep blue sky. Through the door to your left, right there on your right sir. The Glock won't help you, but if it makes you feel secure and gives you some swagger, then I can dig it, baby. Just like in the old days. The receptionist nodded towards a door Michael was sure wasn't there before. It was covered in graffiti. Call Eve for the best rib in town, Adam's banana stand, Kilroy wasn't the nice guy you all thought he was ... Michael's desire to get through the door surpassed his curiosity to read any further. Michael walks through the doorway into a room, well a huge amphitheater is a more accurate description. It's incredibly ornate with multiple tiers. It could seat twenty thousand he estimates. It's empty as is the stage. The giant curved screen running the length of the stage is blank. Off to the side sits someone familiar to him, but he can't quite place her. She's knitting something, a sweater he's guessing. She doesn't look up. Michael Well? I'm sure you are aware I have no inkling as to why I'm here. You do know I find you familiar, that I'm sure of. Waiting for me to speak first ... that's orchestrated. I'm not sure why, but that is clear. Ahhh, Mrs. Jacobs. Sixth grade, Park School Elementary, my favorite teacher, a secret crush remembered to this very day and this very moment. How is it that you are here in this grand place? Are you knitting me a sweater? She looks up with a wise buy wry smirk on her face. Janice You may call me Janice, Michael. Mrs. Jacobs was protocol for the sixth grade when you were a little boy, a wee little tyke with big ideas. But you're a man now, yes? Michael That has been a consistent rumour floated for some time now. Its veracity remains suspect in some circles. Janice Clever, just as I suspected and secretly expected. And my advice, do you recall it? Michael looks off into the distance as if the answer is far, far away. He looks back as though struck by a very kind lightning bolt. Michael Everything I need is already inside of me. I just need to find it. It's true you know. You were correct and it's true for everyone. I've told that very thing to many, many people over the years. I'll be ... yes, it was you, you told me that. I remember now. I didn't realize until just this moment where that came from. I can even hear you saying it. Wow. It's the foundation of my life. Thank you. Janice No need to thank me. Truth is truth. And when you looked in, what did you find? Michael Boy, that's difficult to say. I don't really know. Some talent I suppose, I have musical abilities, I can write and entertain. I'm known as being good to talk to ... helpful, maybe uplifting in a way. I don't exactly have any great success to point to, so perhaps I didn't look hard enough or see what I should've seen. I don't even know if that's a judgment I can make. Janice Then, I suppose, making a judgement will be up to me. Michael What do you mean, a judgement? I still don't know why I'm here or even where I am. Am I dead or something? Is that what this is? I'm dead and you're God? You're about to judge me? Janice You do understand. --to be continued--
Sorry, I got a little carried away with this. LOL This is going to take more than one posting. I'm thinking two. This is part one then. I may add to this part though, so, maybe three parts. UNLESS, you think this is toooo nuts and advise against it. :)) Write a short story or play on the following premise or topic: You've passed away. Regardless of what your religious beliefs are or lack of them, if that's the case, as it turns out, THERE IS A GOD. You are about to meet Him/Her/It and answer a few questions. This can be funny, serious, sci fi, or whatever creative avenue occurs to you. No holds barred. Have fun or be as introspective as you wish. :)) Check in here when you are finished. No word limits or restrictions as to form or style. 
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