The Electric Jesus by Jonathan Talat Phillips

Author:Jonathan Talat Phillips [Phillips, Jonathan Talat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-58394-343-4
Publisher: North Atlantic Books
Published: 2011-10-31T16:00:00+00:00

WHEN DOVES FLY

THE HOMELESS DOMINICAN STEPPED onto the L train at Union Square and came right at me. He had already barked like a husky at the closing metal doors, and shouted at an invisible cop over his shoulder, “I didn’t steal them meters, officer!” As if he had some kind of internal tracking radar, his eyes locked onto mine. Wearing an insulated camouflage jumpsuit and dirty black hoodie, an outfit too hot for late spring, he staggered my way, preceded by the smell of urine.

“You think you know the James, but you don’t know her!” The muscles in his face distorted as if competing personalities fought for control when he talked. “The James is here, and she ain’t stopping the boat!” His skin was olive and he was impressively handsome for someone living on the streets. But the brownish halo I noticed around his head jerked from side to side, as if it were at war with itself. Staring me down, he screamed, “The James, she’s all that!”

I decided to get off at the next stop and take the long walk home over the Williamsburg Bridge. Apparently, subways weren’t safe for me anymore. In Prague, my Scottish barfly friend Alastair once said that you’re allowed two crazy people a week, but when a third one shows up, you had better look in the mirror. This was my third bizarro subway encounter since getting back from Playa del Fuego. All week, the kundalini serpent still vibrated in my sacrum, threatening another attempt at rocket launch, while my aura oscillated wildly, acting like catnip to New York’s mentally imbalanced veterans, homeless, and schizophrenics. I think I started to understand why Jesus, the pneumatic healer, cleared out the rebellious voices and demons that plagued people and rebalanced their energy fields, changing their vibrations to match our consensual reality.

Depressed after the long, anxious schlep over the bridge, I called asking Jade to come over and take care of me. I told her I was feeling fluish after our weekend away. She brought Campbell’s tomato soup, rented a romantic comedy, and laid a woolen blanket over me. She held me with an unusually tight grip on the leather couch, as if I might slip away from her. I still hadn’t told her about my near kundalini awakening, and I was glad she didn’t ask.

While Jade took a shower, I sat on the edge of my bed. Staring at the glossy floorboards, I felt a current of cool, dense energy rise up from below my feet and circle my ankles, tickling my toes. I concentrated on opening the tiny chakras on the soles, connecting with this grounding vibration coming up from the earth. Humbled by my latest blunder, I quietly asked the planet for forgiveness. I had disrespected and underestimated her kundalini power. I had let my desire for transcendental experience nearly push me over the edge of sanity. I prayed for her to take away this pulsating energy, to save me from this frightening new force, to have mercy on her wayward child.

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