My Imaginary Jesus by Matt Mikalatos

Author:Matt Mikalatos
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: RELIGION / Christian Life / Spiritual Growth, FICTION / General, FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure
ISBN: 9781414370156
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers
Published: 2012-04-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

A Burning in the Bosom

Two months passed with no sign of Imaginary Jesus. I hadn’t seen Pete since the parking lot on the mountain. I hadn’t seen talking animals of any sort, let alone my friend Daisy. I had driven through town once looking for Sandy, but I couldn’t remember exactly where she lived, so I settled into life with my wife and daughters again. I waited with skeptical patience for Jesus to show himself. I had begun to doubt that he would. I worked, I read books, I watched television, I hung out with my family, I planned elaborate traps for Houdini Dog.

Then the doorbell rang. As always, my girls scampered from their various hidey-holes around the house and looked out the window to shout out what visitor might await us.

“It’s two guys!” Zoey called.

“In suits!” Allie added.

I flung the door open to see two young men in black suits. They were, perhaps, twenty years old. They looked like a young Laurel and Hardy. One was skinny and tall, and the other was wide and taller, with dark hair combed forward on his head. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Elder Hardy,” the wide one said. “And this is Elder Laurel. We’re here in the neighborhood helping people find the real Jesus.” What a coincidence, I thought. I’m here in the neighborhood hoping to find him. “We’re from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” They even had nameplates showing that their names were, indeed, Laurel and Hardy.

“Who are they, Daddy?”

I put my hand on my daughter’s head. “I’m not sure. A singing telegram or something.”

Elder Hardy scowled. “What makes you say that?”

“Because your names are Laurel and Hardy. That’s a joke, right?”

“I don’t get it.” Elder Laurel scratched the back of his neck. “Why is that funny?”

“Great Caesar’s ghost! Could it be that you are so young that you have never heard of Laurel and Hardy?”

The two missionaries put their heads together and talked in hushed tones for a moment. Elder Hardy turned to me and said, “We will ask one of the bishops to explain it to us later.”

“We’d like to set up an appointment with you this week,” Elder Laurel said.

“We could go for coffee right now.” I called to Krista to ask if she minded me stepping out for a bit.

She came around the corner and saw who was at the door and rolled her eyes. “Go ahead. But I don’t think they’ll want coffee.”

I slapped my forehead. “Mormons don’t drink coffee, I forgot.”

Elder Hardy graced me with a genuine smile. “No problem.”

I said good-bye to the girls, and the three of us piled into the cab of my truck. I drove out of the neighborhood and we headed south on Highway 99 toward Muchas Gracias, my favorite Mexican place in town.

Muchas Gracias is open twenty-four hours a day and run by people who have, at one time, lived in Mexico. The Muchas Gracias chain helps establish new immigrants to the States and then teaches them to sponsor more.

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