Oscar Meyers Part 2: Academia By Lazlo Zalezac Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005 Chapter 19 It was the last week of the second year when Oscar entered his classroom to discover that there was an unexpected visitor. Rabbi Isreal Teitelbaum said, “Oscar, I’d like you to meet your instructor for next year. This is the Reverend Leroy Jones.” Oscar’s eyes flicked over the elderly black man’s features before settling on the wooden cross that hung from a cord around his neck. He looked over at the Rabbi and the small Star of David that hung from his gartel. The absence of his medallion was painful. He sat down and said, “You serve your God, too.” “And his son,” corrected the Reverend. “I stand corrected,” Oscar admitted. He had not given appropriate thought to the matter and had been rude. “I suppose that will be my job for the next year.” Rabbi Teitelbaum said, “We thought it would be best if our discussions this week were attended by the Reverend. You must remember that the Old Testament and the Torah contain the same books.” “I guess I knew that, but I hadn’t really thought about it,” Oscar said. He looked at the elderly black man believing that he would only be teaching the New Testament. He said, “I guess we’ll only study the New Testament.” “Not at all, young man. We’ll read the Old Testament with an eye as to how the interpretation of it has changed after the time of Christ.” Leaning forward, he said, “As you may have gathered from the Rabbi Isreal Teitelbaum, numerous variants of Judaism have emerged since the original founding of Israel.” The Rabbi said, “Remember when we discussed what happened after the Temple fell as a result of Titus. That was forty years after the events that will be covered by my esteemed colleague, the Reverend Leroy Jones. The old rites of animal sacrifice disappeared at that time.” Oscar smiled at the respectful manner with which each of his teachers addressed the other. He said, “Except in Ethiopia. They still practice animal sacrifice there.” “Right.” The Reverend looked at Oscar for a moment, appraising what he knew, and then said, “I suppose it is time for the Rabbi to begin the final exam.” Oscar frowned and asked, “Final exam? I didn’t know there was a final exam.” “Oh yes. For the next five days, you get to tell the Reverend all that you have learned. I’ll grade you on your performance,” the Rabbi said with a smile. With a sigh, Oscar said, “In the beginning…” For the next several hours, Oscar discussed the Torah with the two religious men. They had started going through the significance of the bloodlines when Oliver entered the room. His entrance brought a halt to the discussion when he said, “There is something on the television that all three of you need to see.” Rabbi Isreal Teitelbaum said, “Television? I don’t watch television.” “A very important event has occurred and I think you will want to see it,” Oliver said. His eyes flicked to the symbols of servitude on the two religious leaders. Neither of the religious men missed the glance. Curious they rose and followed Oliver from the room. Oscar followed the three of them grateful for the interruption to the discussion. It was getting late and they’d be going to dinner soon. They reached a public room in time to see the beginning of the news coverage. Surprised, Oscar said, “That’s William Redman Carter.” “I wonder what my grandson has gotten into this time,” mused the Reverend. Rabbi Isreal Teitelbaum asked, “White Buffalo? What’s an overgrown cow got to do with anything?” There was a flare of pain from the Star of David and the Rabbi paid more attention to what was happening on the screen. A chill went down his back as he listened to the words being spoken by the young man standing in the corral. He nodded his head as he realized what was happening. In a soft voice, he said, “Ah, he’s a servant to the Indian Gods.” “The Great Spirit,” corrected the Reverend. He watched his grandson deliver the message to those gathered around the corral and to the rest of the world via this news broadcast. He smiled at the thought of what his grandson had done. He added, “William has done the bidding for the Great Spirit, but he is not a servant in the same way as we.” Oliver nodded his head and said, “He will serve the Two-Sided One, although none of us know when.” Oscar had stared at Reverend Jones ever since he had mentioned that William Redman Carter was his grandson. He recalled the intense young man who had talked with him the previous year. There had been the calm confidence that he would serve the Two- Sided One. He recalled the prophecy given him by the young man. There were many things about this situation that didn’t make sense to him. He found it strange that a single family should have servants of two different religions within it. He didn’t know enough about the structure of the Carter family to make an informed judgment, but it seemed odd that so many powers should focus their efforts in such a small group of people. He turned his attention back to the screen and watched as the White Buffalo rolled in the dirt and changed colors. A reporter came on and explained the significance of the color change undergone by the buffalo calf. Oscar recognized the work of one of the powers-that-be in this action. He asked, “What is William’s role in this? If he is to serve the Two-Sided One, then why is he acting as voice to the Great Spirit?” Oliver looked at Oscar and considered the question carefully. It was a few moments before he answered, “He has been chosen by the Gods and Goddesses to help the Native Americans return to their rightful place in this world.” “But he hasn’t begun his service to the Two-Sided One,” Oscar countered. “Like you, he does not wear a Medallion. That doesn’t mean that he hasn’t begun his service.” “You’re right. I’m not wearing a medallion,” Oscar said bitterly. He added, “My service has been put on hold.” Oliver stared at Oscar for a moment. It was clear from the slight dulling of his aura that not having a medallion was bothering the young man much more than he was willing to admit. Oliver said, “Some things can not be accomplished with an explicit declaration of affiliation. I doubt many of the Native Americans would listen to William if he wore a Medallion. Your service has not been put on hold. You are here as a student in service to the Two-Sided One. I suggest that you couldn’t have been a good student with the Medallion.” “So why bother with the Medallions?” “Other tasks can only be accomplished with such a declaration,” Reverend Leroy Jones answered as he fondled the cross hanging around his neck. The answer surprised Oscar and he turned to stare at the elderly black man. He wondered what tasks the old man had to perform that required the wooden cross around his neck. He was about to ask when the Rabbi asked, “So what do you think of what William is doing?” The Reverend turned to the Rabbi and said, “I feel sorry for my poor grandson. This will complicate his life tremendously and it is already more complicated than most young men his age should have to deal with.” The Rabbi nodded and said, “One of the advantages of being young is that you have the energy to deal with many things that would tire an older man. From what you have told me about him in the past, I’m sure that he has the energy to do well.” Seeing that Oscar was about to say something, the Rabbi turned to him. In a kindly voice, he said, “Oscar, you are young yet. You have the energy and time to deal with your problems. We are old and see things from a different perspective.” Reverend Jones nodded his head in agreement and said, “Come, my friend. Let us have a sherry and discuss the advantages of old age. Let Oscar eat and visit with the young until the morning.” Oscar watched the two men leave the room. Turning to face Oliver, he asked, “They have known each other for a long a long time?” “Yes. Both of them have been working for years to bring peace among the different religions. They are two of three men who have been working to bring that about. Maybe I should say that they are two of the last three survivors who have been working to bring that about. Your teacher next year will be the third of that trio.” “William should have looked closer to home for the man who would bring peace to the Middle East,” Oscar said with a smile. The whole idea that it would be him to do that was still humorous to him. A small frown crossed Oliver’s face as he considered Oscar’s continued dismissal of what William had told him. As he turned towards the door he said, “I think there is a fourth who will be joining them soon.” “Who?” “You.” Oscar frowned a moment as he considered and rejected the possibility. He laughed when another thought entered his mind. At Oliver’s curious expression, he said, “So Armageddon does translate into Oscar is in the kitchen.” Smiling at the joke, Oliver said, “That explains why Debbie and Georgia didn’t get you cooking lessons for your birthday. They wanted to make sure that the weapon intended to end the world as we know it wasn’t blunted.” Oscar laughed while Oliver left the room chuckling to himself. He turned to watch the television for a few minutes. By the time the news program continued after the commercial break, he wasn’t paying attention to it. His thoughts were on the events that were happening around him. The Great Spirit, Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, and the Gods and Goddesses were all active at the same time. Each had their servants working to improve the world for the betterment of all. He was lost in thought when Cole cleared his throat. Turning he said, “Oh, hello Cole. What’s up?” Cole held out a book and said, “The Grand Druid thought you might like to read this.” Even as Oscar accepted the book, he asked, “What is it?” “It’s a biography of John Carter that was written by two of his wives.” “Ah, sounds like it would be a good read.” Looking at the red robed Druid, Cole didn’t know how to respond. He wasn’t sure what the Grand Druid wanted Oscar to learn from the biography. He looked down at the floor for a second and then said, “He suggested that you read it very carefully.” “No problem,” Oscar said. “Did you know that my instructor for Christianity is William Redman Carter’s grandfather?” “I didn’t even know that you had met your next instructor,” Cole answered raising an eyebrow as he considered the news. “Yes. You might want to talk to him. He’s a servant of his God,” Oscar said. Cole looked at Oscar for a moment and then asked, “Did you expect Oliver to get anyone with less impressive credentials than that to teach you?” The week ended without any further excitement for Oscar. He had covered the entire Torah over the course of the week giving details and historical background on all parts of it. It had been exhausting and the questions from his two instructors had probed his understanding of the material. The Rabbi was pleased with his performance, the Reverend was impressed, and Oscar was tired. It was the last hour of the last day of class and Oscar was talking with the Rabbi Isreal Teitelbaum and the Reverend Leroy Jones. The Reverend, looking over at the other elderly man, asked, “What are you going to do now?” With a tired shrug of his shoulders, the Rabbi answered, “I figure I have three years to try and make a difference. I’ll make another visit with all of the other major Rabbis. If that doesn’t work, then I’ll try to make the rounds to the more influential Imams with Farzin bin Saud. Maybe we can come up with some way to establish peace.” The Reverend shook his head and said, “That’ll be a rough trip, but I hope you’re successful. That’s an awful lot of people that you have to convince to change their minds.” “Too many,” agreed the Rabbi with a sigh. He didn’t think he had a chance of success. He sighed and said, “I’m an old man. I fear that I won’t live to see my work come to fruition.” “We are all old men. I fear that none of us have the decades left to our lives that this task seems to require,” agreed the Reverend. His hand went up to caress the wooden cross that hung around his neck. It felt warm and reassuring. “The minds of modern men seem closed to peace. There are too many people who look back to a glorious past and wish to recreate it in the now. My people wish to recreate an Israel that ceased to exist a long time ago. There are too many Christians who want to return to the dark ages where religion controlled the daily lives of everyone. The Muslims wish to return to a world where they were the powers.” “It is too easy to take a line or two from writings of the prophets and use it to justify what you want. That old eye for an eye thing keeps getting thrown back at me as justification for what men want to do. None of them really ask if that is what their God wants them to do. Jihad is the worst bit of it all.” Oscar had listened to the discussion and said, “It’s a shame that we can’t change the religion. Sounds like that would be a lot easier.” The Rabbi and the Reverend stared at Oscar in shock. They turned to look at each other. The Rabbi nodded his head and said, “You are so right, Oscar. Perhaps I need to rethink my plans.” The next morning found Oscar waiting by the bus that would take them to the airport. He and Debbie were ready to leave, but they were waiting for Georgia to arrive. He was nervous about the trip and meeting Debbie’s family for the first time. Although he knew a lot about the family, he wasn’t convinced that they really accepted the triad. Georgia’s parents had been very accepting of the unusual relationship, but they had a daughter who was a Druid and had come to expect anything when it came to love relationships. Debbie looked around and asked, “Where’s Georgia?” “I don’t know. It’s not like her to be late,” Oscar said looking down the road from which he expected her to arrive. “Looking for me?” Georgia asked from behind him with a giggle. She had arrived early and stopped by her office to make sure that she had cleared her desk before leaving for a week. “Yeah, I was afraid that you were going to leave me to face her father all alone,” Oscar replied in a light-hearted joking manner. Curious, he asked, “What were you doing inside the school?” “Making sure that I didn’t have any work left on my desk,” she answered. With a slight grin, she added, “I was also talking to Debbie’s father to let him know when to expect us. I just wanted to give him time to load his shotgun. I’m sure that he wants you to make an honest woman of his little girl.” Oliver was looking over at Georgia in surprise when Debbie said, “Don’t worry. Daddy won’t hurt you much. He’ll just wing you if you run.” “Thanks,” Oscar growled. The women looked at each other and burst out in laughter. Georgia teased, “You know, for one of the most dangerous men in the world you sure are worried about meeting her father.” “Yeah. It’s kind of like a tiger being afraid of meeting a pussy cat,” Debbie said. She followed that up with a little feline sounding purr. “That’s it, rub it in,” Oscar said. He couldn’t put into words what was making him so nervous about this trip. Pushing him towards the bus, Georgia said, “Let’s get on the bus, you can’t delay this any longer.” “I’m going.” The little town that Debbie’s parents lived in was almost a two hour drive east from Cincinnati. Considering that the Cincinnati airport was across the river into Kentucky, it took them almost two and a half hours to reach her house. Because Debbie was much more familiar with the area, she drove the rental car with Georgia seated next to her to navigate. This left Oscar free to stare out the window at the various horse farms and dairy farms. For some reason, he’d always thought of Cincinnati as an old steel town so the modern appearance of the city was a surprise. Outside of Cincinnati, they drove past lot filled with huge tractors. Debbie pointed to it and said, “Those really big ones cost a million dollars each.” Oscar counted three of them and many smaller tractors. He said, “So they’ve got over three million dollars worth of inventory?” Debbie glanced over and said, “Probably closer to ten million dollars in inventory. Farming is big business. Most people don’t realize just how much it costs to run a farm.” Oscar recalled something that his father once said and commented, “Most farmers are paper rich and dollar poor.” “What does that mean?” Georgia asked. “From what my dad says, it is that on paper farmers are very rich. They may have land that is worth a million or more. On top of that, they have equipment that can cost that much again. Most of their assets are almost paid off, but farmers are always in debt. They have a hard time coming up with enough money even though the crops they raise are worth millions. If they were to liquidate their assets and pay off their debts, they’d be worth a lot of money particularly if they were to do it after bringing in their crops,” Oscar answered. “So why are they almost always in debt?” Smiling over at Georgia, Debbie answered, “About the time they get the tractor paid off, they need a new one. About the time they get the milk machine paid off, they need a new one. Farm equipment is not cheap so they try to make is last as long as possible. Of course, an old tractor isn’t as fast as a new one so in the long run you have to get the new one.” Oscar shook his head and said, “Being a farmer is tough work. One bad year and you can get set back five years in terms of reducing your debt.” Looking in the rearview mirror at Oscar, Debbie said, “I didn’t realize you knew that much about farming.” “The area we are headed is a lot like where I grew up. Lots of kids in my school lived on farms around our town. I don’t think things would be too much different here,” Oscar answered. “I thought you were just a big klutz growing up,” Debbie said. “I don’t think a farmer in the entire state would have let me onto their place out of fear that someone would die or I’d ruin their livelihood,” Oscar answered. There was more truth in that statement than he really wanted to admit. The last thing one needed on a farm was a klutz. Falling off a tractor was a quick way to get killed. “I didn’t think about it that way,” Debbie said somberly. Georgia said, “Don’t worry Oscar. Debbie’s dad isn’t a farmer.” “That’s right. He just sits on the front porch with a loaded shotgun waiting for a suitable guy for me to marry to wander by,” Debbie teased. Grinning at Debbie, Oscar said, “No problem. I’ll just go in the kitchen with him and fix him a cup of coffee while we talk it over.” Georgia started laughing even as Debbie protested, “Don’t threaten me with that! I’d hate to lose my daddy now!” It was a very plain neighborhood that Debbie entered. The simple wood houses were spaced far apart along the street. Although they looked small, most were two stories. Looking at them it appeared that most of them were three bedroom houses with the bedrooms upstairs. Kitchen, living room, and dining rooms filled the lower level. Most of the houses had simple porches with swinging chairs that hung from the roof that extended over the porch. This was the kind of neighborhood where one expected to find the ‘girl-next-door’ wandering around unaware of her beauty. He chuckled at the thought and looked over at Debbie. Noticing his chuckle, Georgia asked, “What’s so funny?” “I was just wondering where the girl next door was. Then I realized that we brought her along with us.” Debbie frowned and looked over at Georgia. She asked, “Was that a compliment?” Shrugging her shoulders, Georgia looked over at Oscar and asked, “Was it?” “Very much so,” Oscar answered even as Debbie pulled into a driveway. He was relieved that her father wasn’t on the front porch cleaning the shotgun. “We’re here.” The front door of the house opened and a woman who was the spitting image of Debbie came running out. She was followed by an average sized man and her two brothers. One of her brothers was well over six foot and was well built. Debbie squealed and said, “My goodness, Jimmy grew up since we were last here.” “And how,” Georgia commented watching the larger brother jump off the porch rather than take the steps. She guessed that he had added about five inches and fifty pounds. Feeling his five feet short a quarter inch in height, Oscar watched the men amble over to the car. Taking a deep breath, he got out of the car. The larger brother took one look at Oscar and said, “He is a Druid. I thought Debbie was kidding.” Debbie’s mother was busy hugging Debbie. The other brother had gone over to Georgia and was shyly welcoming her to the house. It was obvious that he had a crush on the blond. In the meantime, Debbie’s father reached Oscar and grabbed his hand. Pumping it with energy, he said, “Welcome, Oscar. I’ve heard so much about you.” Oscar’s response was cut off by the loud roar of a motorcycle from the house next door. He looked over in time to see a very large woman riding a Harley Davidson motorcycle. Holding up two fingers spread in front of her lips, she slipped her tongue between them in a fast motion. She stopped and pointed at Debbie with a sneer. Debbie paled and turned to her mother seeking an explanation. Her mother said, “I’m sorry, honey. They came back earlier this morning.” Oscar had reached into his pocket for the gun that wasn’t there. Furious, he watched as the woman drove off. Debbie’s father said, “Let’s not ruin the moment, folks. How about we go in the house and have some lunch?”