Chapter 14
Walking through the ruins of Troy, Oscar couldn't help but be touched by the beauty of the place. This was the ancient city of Troy! Just the thought of it brought memories of Homer's Iliad back to him. Looking over a feature of the ancient city, he said, "I wish Debbie was here to see this."
"You know why she didn't want to come here," Georgia said defending her wife against criticism even if none was intended.
Sighing, Oscar said, "I know. A war was fought here because of the beauty of a single woman. I could have come here with two women whose beauty outmatched Helen's."
"I'm sure the city is disappointed," Georgia replied with a smile. She had to admit that it was a nice compliment.
"She came all of the way to Turkey and didn't see anything."
"She didn't come to Turkey to see the sights, she came here to see you and me," Georgia said. The three of them had spent almost the entire week of Debbie's visit in the hotel room. As soon as Debbie had left, Oscar had visited a synagogue, a church, and a mosque in Istanbul before leaving the city behind.
"I would have liked to share this with her," Oscar said gesturing to his surroundings.
"We shared something with her that was much more important to her than this," Georgia said looking over at her husband.
"What?"
"Us," she answered.
"You're right, I guess," Oscar said. Seeing the expression on Debbie's face, he added, "Sometimes I wonder how I'm worthy of being in your lives."
Georgia stared at Oscar and said, "Never doubt your worth when it comes to us."
"I stand here where we believe one of the most famous battles of ancient history took place and I feel humble. Long after the city was buried and forgotten, the names of the men who fought here managed to survive," Oscar said. He had a feeling that his name would last as long. It was an unsettling thought.
"You're in a melancholy mood," Georgia said.
"She's been gone two days and I miss her. I know you miss her too," Oscar said.
Striding across the grass, Oscar walked up to a ruined wall. He turned his back to the wall such that he faced the plain. He posed as if giving a speech and, using the full power of his voice, said, "Always be the best, my boy, the bravest, and hold your head up high above the others. Never disgrace the generations of your fathers."
Confident that his voice had carried for two miles across the plain, Georgia said, "That's nice. What is it from?"
"It is from the Iliad," Oscar answered with a smile.
"Why did you recite it here?"
"It reminds me of William." He looked over at her and saw that she didn't understand. He explained, "When we were studying history I came across that in one of my textbooks. It was advice from a father to a son on how to behave. When I first read it, I thought the father was telling the son to be a braggart.
"After thinking about it, I decided that the father was telling the son never to perform an act which would bring shame upon him. Performing a shameful act would lower his head and disgrace his ancestors. I think that John Carter must have said something like that to William Redman Carter."
"I read his letter to you," Georgia said feeling guilty about having done that.
"I know," Oscar said, "I saw your tears on the envelope. They landed beside mine."
"I shouldn't have read it," Georgia said.
"Why? It would have ended in your hands at some point in time," Oscar replied looking at her puzzled.
"I was overwhelmed by it. I find it hard to understand such generosity," Georgia said.
Oscar sighed and said, "Homer wrote about the seer Calchas son of Thestor, 'He knew the things that were and the things that would be and the things that had been before.' It was as though Homer was writing about William.
"Do you want to know what real generosity is? William gave that 'knowing' to me. He did that accepting that he would become weak and vulnerable. It was like giving away his ability to see to a blind man. That's real generosity."
"I didn't even think of that while reading his letter," Georgia said. She had only considered the effort William had made to relieve Oscar of some of the worries that would plague him on this trip.
"My friends, be men, and fear dishonor; quit yourselves in battle so as to win respect from one another. Men who respect each other's good opinion are less likely to be killed than those who do not, but in flight there is neither gain nor glory," Oscar said quoting Homer again. Looking over at Georgia he said, "William and I are fellow soldiers in a war against the baser nature of man. I am to bring peace and he is to make sure that it lasts. I respect his opinion as I'm sure he respects mine."
"Why do you keep quoting Homer?"
Oscar laughed and said, "Hey, we're in Troy. Where else should one quote Homer?"
As they were about to leave Turkey and enter Bulgaria, Georgia asked, "Why didn't you go to the Patriarch of Constantinople at the Church of Saint George?"
"I don't know," Oscar answered.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"We didn't go there and we're not going to visit the Pope at the Vatican or the Queen of England in her castle. I don't know why I've been directed to one place and not another. Every place that I've visited has been small and unimportant. All that I know is that I haven't been told to go to a major religious site," Oscar answered.
"The Queen of England? What's she got to do with anything?" Georgia asked thinking that they were on a tour of religious sites, not royal families.
"She's the head of the Church of England," Oscar answered with a shrug of his shoulders.
"I didn't know that," Georgia said. She smirked and said, "It must be nice to be a queen."
Oscar laughed and drove through the border crossing without being stopped. Shaking his head, he said, "It's amazing to me how they don't seem to see us when we cross the border."
Ignoring Oscar's comment, Georgia was still wondering about the churches, synagogues, and mosques they were visiting and those they were avoiding. She asked, "So why do you think that you aren't going to visit the heads of churches?"
"I think that perhaps the Powers that Be don't want to play favorites by having me visit the heads of some sects. I've been visiting hundred of churches, synagogues, and mosques. If I had to visit one of every sect then I would be doing this for the rest of time," Oscar answered.
"That makes sense."
Oscar slowed the car and pointed to a sign. Coming to a stop, he looked over at Georgia and asked, "Does that say what I think it says?"
Georgia laughed as she read the sign aloud. "Welcome to Bulgaria Oscar Meyers. Come visit our churches, synagogues, and mosques."
"I think that someone in Bulgaria has too much time and money on their hands for their own good," Oscar said staring at the sign. He had to assume that signs like that must have been placed near every border crossing into the country. It seemed rather unlikely to him that someone had just happened to place the sign here on this minor road in the middle of nowhere.
Laughing at the comment, Georgia said, "You've got to admit that it is the friendliest greeting you've gotten on this trip."
"That's true. Funny, I've never heard anyone remark on Bulgarian hospitality before," Oscar said staring at the sign.
"I want to take a picture of you standing in front of the sign," Georgia said. She had taken lots of pictures on the trip, but few of them included Oscar as the main feature.
Ten minutes later, Georgia snapped a picture of Oscar standing in front of the sign. He was wearing his robe and cloak while holding his shepherd's staff. Winking at the camera with one eye, he held out a hand with a thumb up in the well know gesture of approval. Georgia knew as soon as she pressed the button that it was a great picture.
The news services had gone into a frenzy trying to figure out when and where Oscar would appear next. As soon as there was a report that Oscar had appeared somewhere, thousands of reporters would flood the general area taking up positions outside of religious sites. Surveillance cameras had been mounted inside and outside of churches, synagogues, and mosques in the hope of catching him in the act of talking with God.
With supernatural accuracy, Oscar threaded his way through the masses of reporters to visit those few places which were not watched. He drove past reporters while they had their backs turned to road, while they were answering calls of nature, or when an irresistible urge to nap descended upon them. For a profession that was dominated by a huge number of atheist and secular liberals, his ability to avoid them was particularly frustrating.
World wide, the nightly news had become almost uniform in terms of how they began their broadcasts. First they showed where Oscar had visited some church, synagogue, or mosque. A reporter would stand in front of the building and explain that Oscar had been there. Then they showed interviews with people who had observed the visit. The comments were always the same; they felt blessed to have heard the voice of their God. The broadcasts always ended with a film of some riot that broke out in some part of the world as a result of Oscar's service.
Oscar stepped out of the church and looked around. The nature of the crowds that greeted him had changed. For a long time, he would leave a church to find the elderly watching him and making religious gestures. With time, the ages of the observers had changed to reflect the general distribution of the population. From very young wearing tee shirts and Nike shoes to the very old wearing clothes of an older style, people stood and watched with tears in their eyes.
Approaching a man who looked out of place in the crowd, Oscar, speaking English, said, "You are a reporter."
"Yes, I am," the man acknowledged surprised that Oscar spoke to him English and knew his occupation. He had come to this place without a recording device of any kind thinking that it might improve his chances of seeing something. It had. He had followed Oscar into the church and had seen it all. What he had seen and heard had shaken him to the very core of his beliefs.
Oscar gestured to Georgia and then over at a bar. She nodded her head and walked over to the bar. Turning to reporter, he said, "Let us go over to the bar and have a drink while you interview me."
The reporter glanced at his watch surprised that a religious figure would suggest going to a bar for a drink at ten in the morning. That surprise was totally overshadowed at the news that he was going to get to interview Oscar. Wondering how he had managed to get so lucky, he said, "Okay."
They reached the bar to find Georgia seated at a table by the window with three glasses of wine and an open bottle on the table. She gestured to the empty chairs and said, "Have a seat."
Oscar sat down next to Georgia and waited for the reporter to take a seat across from him. Once the reporter had taken a seat, Oscar picked up his glass. Raising it, he said, "Here's to the Gods and Goddesses."
Georgia raised her glass in honor of the toast. She echoed, "Here's to the Gods and Goddesses."
It took the surprised reporter a second to follow suit. Thirty minutes earlier, he would have laughed at them and called them fools for believing in Gods and Goddesses. He couldn't say that now. He had heard the voice of God. He raised his glass and said, "Here's to the Gods and Goddesses."
Oscar took a sip of his wine. He placed a tape recorder on the table and turned it on. Looking up at the surprised face of the reporter, he said, "I'm sure that you have many questions."
"Why are you doing this?" the reporter asked wondering why Oscar had granted him this interview.
Choosing to misinterpret the question, Oscar answered, "It is my service to the Gods and Goddesses."
"Why would they want you to do that?"
Smiling, Oscar said, "I will not answer for the Powers that Be. They have each asked me to deliver a specific message. I deliver their messages and nothing more. It is not my place to say anything which they have not explicitly asked me to say."
"So why do you do it?"
"I do it to bring peace to parts of the world that have known only war for too long. I do it to keep thousands of women from becoming widows and thousands of children from becoming orphans. I want peace."
Shaking his head, the reporter asked, "How can you say that you do this to bring peace? Your visits have produced riots all over the world."
Georgia leaned over and looked out the window at the people gathered around the church. In a soft voice, she said, "I don't see a riot. I see people rediscovering their God and remembering that there are some things in this world that are greater than they are."
"There are riots," the reporter said.
Oscar smiled at the comment. It wasn't a happy smile, but a weak rather sad smile. He said, "I find that comment amazing. Why does the Press have to blame me for the riots? I don't think a day passes without a dozen riots occurring somewhere in the world. I think the press finds it only too easy to place blame on others. It is never the fault of the rioters.
"I marvel that the press is so willing to place blame on anyone and everyone for the ills of the world. The press never asks what its role is in creating the conditions for conflict and war. The press has a huge role in creating civil unrest and increasing international tensions. It forgets that it was the press that started the Spanish American War as a means of selling more newspapers.
"Millions of people are touched by what is happening in churches, synagogues, and mosques. They are trying to abide by what the Gods have told them to do. I have seen a Jewish man and his Muslim neighbor help each other plant fruit trees rather than build fences. This was after hating each other for years. Does the news cover that? No. People being nice to people does not sell newspapers or attract viewers.
"Instead the news focuses on a few angry people who have discovered that God doesn't think the world revolves around them. You are reporting the temper tantrums of children. These are people who have been chastised by an authority they claimed supported them in acting like spoiled little brats. They are a minority, but you say that their behavior makes them representative of everyone.
"Mom and Pop sitting at home watching the news believes what you say and, as a result, they think the world is in chaos. Like good caring people around the world, they want injustices addressed. The problem is that the injustices are fictions, the events are exaggerated, and the numbers are inflated. When the situation escalates, the press can point at well meaning people and lay the blame at their feet."
Oscar looked at the reporter and the expression on his face. The man's face had turned pale listening to what Oscar had to say. He knew that the charges Oscar was making were basically true. The reporter thought back to the number of times he had driven through miles of city streets filled with people going about their daily lives to film a conflict that involved a few dozen individuals. Cameras were placed to make the event look bigger than it was.
Leaning forward across the table, Oscar said, "The reason why a story about a neighbor helping a neighbor isn't great news is because it is so common. It is an everyday event. Can you imagine running a news story in which a neighbor helps another neighbor cut up a tree that fell in their backyard? A story like that will never air. But have one idiot out of three hundred million who cuts down the neighbor's tree in a fit of rage and it makes headlines.
"It is the violence and hatred that is rare and that is why it is news. However, the way the news is reported doesn't admit that possibility. It glorifies it and builds it into a movement that is greater than what it is. Even worse, the press tries to tear down the good by saying that one bad act negates a thousand good deeds. I think that is a shame.
"It was the news that declared God is dead. I have news for you. The Powers that Be are very much alive. It is time that that fact was reported accurately," Oscar said. He took a sip of his wine and looked at the reporter with a twinkle in his eyes.
The reporter took a sip of his wine and thought about what Oscar had said. Deciding that it was time to change the subject, he asked, "What will you do when your service is finished?
Oscar rubbed his chin trying to think of a good answer to that question. He answered, "I shall serve the Gods and Goddesses for the rest of my life."
"What do you mean by that?"
"This is not a contract job where you sign on the dotted line to work for six months. There is no retirement plan. I have dedicated my life to serving the Gods and Goddesses."
The reporter was silent for a moment while considering the answer. It wasn't the answer to the question he really wanted to ask. He said, "I take it by your answer that you will be going from church to church for the next ninety years."
"I shall continue doing what I am doing until my service is ended," Oscar answered trying not to look at Georgia.
The reporter glanced at Georgia and said, "You look upset."
"Of course I'm upset. You are talking about his service ending. He has told you that it will end when he dies. Now you want to set limits on how long he will serve. It sounds to me like you want his service to end any day now," Georgia said.
"I apologize if that is the impression I gave," the reporter said.
"I accept your apology," Georgia said. Glancing over at Oscar, she said, "You should probably restrict your questioning to him."
"People are interested in you, too."
Georgia laughed and said, "I'm just along for the ride."
The reporter studied Georgia for a minute and then said, "It is said that you were touched by a God and that it left your hair white. Is that true?"
"Yes," Georgia answered. She took a sip of her wine and smiled at the reporter knowing that he probably wanted more of an answer.
"How do you know that you were touched by a God? What proof can you offer besides having white hair?"
Giving him an enigmatic smile, Georgia didn't answer. She took another sip of wine and turned to Oscar. She asked, "Is it time for us to go?"
"Yes," Oscar said. He picked up his glass and finished the wine.
The reporter frowned at the sudden termination of the interview. Returning to his first question, he asked, "Why did you pick me to interview you?"
"Where did you get that scar on your forehead?" Oscar asked.
His face turned pink on hearing the question. He ran a finger over the scar on his forehead. Embarrassed, he answered, "I was a little clumsy when I was a kid. I tripped and hit my head."
Oscar smiled and said, "Not everyone can be born of stature, grace, and greatness."
"Huh?"
While Georgia giggled, Oscar answered, "Let's just say that I chose you because I empathize with people who are a little clumsy."
Georgia reached into her purse and pulled out a picture. Setting it on the table, she said, "You might want a picture to go with the article."
The reporter picked up the photograph and examined it carefully. It
wasn't exactly the kind of picture that he would have chosen. He
wondered why Oscar was posed in front of a sign. Of course, he didn't
understand Bulgarian so it was possible that there was a hidden meaning
in the picture. He looked up from the picture just in time to see Oscar
and Georgia leave the bar. He called out, "Thank you."