Chapter 25

Beth Carter, carrying a stack of papers, walked through the halls of the college in which she had spent a considerable percentage of her childhood. Every hall, every room, and every piece of decor brought back memories. The majority of memories were good, but there were also memories associated with the loss of her father.

She was headed towards the first year dining room smiling at the thought of her destination. Her grandfather, the Reverend Leroy Jones, always insisted on meeting people in the first year dining room. She didn’t quite buy his assertion that the atmosphere was about as close to the Garden of Eden as existed on earth. It was true that the sense of sin associated with nudity was eliminated very quickly among the students. It was also true that he enjoyed looking at the young women.

She entered the dining room and immediately spotted a lone red robed Druid seated at one of the corner tables. She walked over to his table and took a seat next to him while placing the stack of papers on the chair next to her. Once she was settled, she took a moment to examine him. He had a short beard that was in serious need of a trim. Without turning to face her, he watched her out of the corner of his eye without saying a word. Finally, she said, “So you are the person that my little brother is talking about all the time.”

“You must not be talking about me,” Oscar said with a wry grin. He was quiet for a moment as a puzzled look crossed her face and then said, “If I recall correctly, he doesn’t talk about me so much as he asks about me.”

“True,” Beth admitted with a laugh. Everyone in the family was fully aware of William’s fascination with Oscar Meyers. She was sure that part of it was due to the future he saw for Oscar, but that wasn’t the entire story.

“So tell me about him.”

Beth laughed and said, “I was warned you were going to do that.”

“Oh? Who warned you?”

“Lucy, grandpa, Ling, Kelly, Ed, Eddie, William...”

Oscar laughed and turned to address her directly. He said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Beth Carter.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Oscar Meyers. It is very seldom that I get to meet people who are destined to bring peace to the Middle East,” Beth said with a smile. She wondered what made her brother think this little man could do what no one else had been able to accomplish. She added, “In fact, I would have to say this is a first for me.”

A very serious expression crossed Oscar’s face. He looked at Beth for a moment and then said, “Don’t discount your grandfather’s efforts.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. In my defense, I tend to think of him as grandpa and not as the Reverend Leroy Jones,” Beth said. She recalled that William said that her grandfather wouldn’t survive the ordeal ahead. The thought saddened her and she hoped in this one case that William was wrong.

“That’s all right. I tend to think of him in a grandfatherly way. He’s a nice man,” Oscar said. He picked up his cup of coffee and swirled the cup around while watching the liquid inside. The sloshing surface reflected the lights from above in fascinating patterns. Looking up, he said, “Most of the really good people I’ve met are family, classmates, or Druids. I didn’t know many people until I began my service. Since then, I’ve seen a lot of very bad people. I’ve met some very good people. Your grandfather is one of the very best of the men who I’ve had the privilege of meeting.”

“I have to agree with you,” Beth said.

“From the way he talks about John Carter, I would have loved to have met your father. You and your whole family paid a horrible price for his greatness,” Oscar said.

“It was a high price,” Beth said wondering what he was trying to tell her.

Looking over at her, he said, “I imagine if I’m successful in bringing peace to the Middle East, a lot of people will be comparing me to him. I’d appreciate it if you would let your family know that I do not believe that anything I have done is comparable to what he did. He was a good man before he ever began his service. I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t?” Beth asked looking at him in surprise.

“I was a klutz.”

“That doesn’t mean that you weren’t a good man before you began your service.”

“I never had a chance to be a good person. I was too busy breaking things to ever solve anyone else’s problems,” Oscar answered with a laugh. His voice took on a much more serious tone when he said, “I actually hurt a lot of people by accident. It wasn’t that my intentions were bad. Intentions had nothing to do with it.”

Beth studied Oscar for a minute trying to figure out where he was headed with the conversation. She said, “So you are telling me that you are not John Carter.”

“Right. If William is correct...”

“He’s always right,” Beth interrupted with a knowing nod.

“I will bring peace to the Middle East. Once I do, people will compare me to John Carter. I just want you to know that I know I am not John Carter,” Oscar said.

Confused by his insistence that he wasn’t John Carter, Beth asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Great magic requires a great price,” Oscar said.

A light went off in her head and she asked, “And you expect to have to pay that price?”

“I will pay the price,” Oscar answered.

The conversation quickly came to an end when the Reverend Leroy Jones walked over to the table. His pace was slow and he relied on the cane more than usual. With a groan, he sat down at the table. Hugging Beth to his side, he said, “Hello, my little Beth. How’s my favorite architect doing?”

“I’m the only architect you know,” Beth said with a grin. Batting her eyelashes at him, she said, “Now if you were to call me your favorite granddaughter, that would be something.”

The old man laughed and winked at Oscar. He said, “Oscar, I’ve got two granddaughters and they’ve been trying to get me to tell them which one of them is my favorite ever since they could talk. Let me tell you a little secret. Beth is my favorite oldest granddaughter and Betsy is my favorite youngest granddaughter. Don’t tell them that, though. I’d hate for them to think I had favorites.”

Laughing at the open secret, Beth said, “You’re my favorite grandfather.”

“You are good for an old man’s heart,” he said. Glancing over at Oscar, he asked, “Tell me, did he ask you about William?”

“It was basically the first thing out of his mouth,” she answered discounting the brief introduction.

“I tell you, that Hermaphrodite God and Goddess of yours is a funny little thing with a strange sense of humor. I know the only reason that William and Oscar are going to serve it is to give everyone splitting headaches with their questions about each other,” the elderly man said with a wink at Beth while shaking a finger at Oscar. Nodding his head, he said, “We’re all going to end up with two brains. That’s what a splitting headache does to you.”

Putting both hands over his mouth as though he had accidentally spilled a secret, Oscar said, “Our plot has been exposed. So tell me about William.”

The Reverend Leroy Jones laughed. He rested his hands on the head of his cane and said, “I’ve never seen two people so curious about each other.”

Wanting to change the subject, Beth said, “So what kept you? I expected you a half an hour ago.”

“The vultures kept me. I’m not even dead yet and they’re picking at my bones,” answered the man with more than a little irritation in his voice. The horde of reporters had followed him from the airport to the Druid College. They had tried to keep him from entering with their questions. He leaned over and said, “I really appreciate you coming here like this, Beth. We have to keep Oscar a secret.”

“I’ll take every chance I can get to see you, Grandpa.”

“You’re a dear girl.”

“Thanks, Grandpa.”

Looking over at Oscar, he said, “I hate to say this, but that is one ugly beard you’ve been growing. That’s going to take some time to get used to.”

“It finally quit itching,” Oscar said rubbing his cheek with two fingers. He asked, “So why did you three announce to the world that someone was going to bring peace to the Middle East?”

“We’re unstirring the pot.”

“What does that mean?” Oscar asked, “Unstirring isn’t even a word.”

“The bad guys are trying to stir up trouble. We’re trying to undo what they are doing.”

“How does the announcement fit into that plan?”

“We are trying to separate the bad guys from the good guys. It is our hope that the good guys will look forward to peace and try to help it come about. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll help us get rid of the ones who don’t want peace,” the elderly man said.

“Is it working?”

“A little. We have a few more religious leaders talking to us. It is clear that the world is becoming increasingly more polarized over the chance of peace,” he said. It wasn’t the number of people who wanted peace that was the problem. The problem was that the minority of people who were against it were violently against it. A handful of them were able to intimidate thousands of people. Shaking his head, he added, “It’s hard to believe that there are people who prefer war to peace.”

Looking back on her history of war class, Beth said, “It’s not surprising to me. For a lot of people, war is a way of life. Without war, their lives have no meaning.”

Looking over at Oscar, the Reverend Leroy Jones said, “Perhaps the warrior might want to comment on what makes a man hate other men enough to live in a perpetual state of war?”

Surprised by the suggestion, Oscar was silent while he considered his thoughts on the matter. He said, “I never hated my enemy. I was disgusted by their warped world view, but I never hated them. I never planned an operation in which I knew non-combatants would be involved. I can not say that about those I faced in battle.”

“Are they motivated by hatred or reason?”

“Many are, but some aren’t.”

“So is it a lifestyle?”

“For some, it is a lifestyle. I’m sure they would fight without regard to what reason was being given,” Oscar finally said.

“How about you?” the Reverend asked.

“I didn’t particularly enjoy fighting. I’ve been happy not having to fight, but I miss serving the Gods and Goddesses in an active manner,” Oscar answered. Looking at the religious leader, he added, “I never found my life defined by battle. My life has been defined by my service.”