Oscar Meyers
Part 2: Academia
By 
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005

Chapter 32

Oscar walked up to the door of the house and entered confident 
that Debbie and Georgia waited inside for him. The separation of 
three months had been very hard on him. Despite meditating most 
of the time he had been there, his thoughts had remained with the 
two women in his life. They were more important to him than 
returning to the school and, as a result, he had to stop by the house 
to be with them.

Stepping inside the house, Oscar was greeted with silence. 
Frowning, he had expected that Georgia and Debbie would have 
been waiting for him by the door. He had hoped that he would be 
greeted with hugs and kisses. Instead, the lights were low and no 
one was to be seen. He made his way to the living room hoping to 
find them there. Again he was disappointed. He began to doubt 
they were waiting for him.

Shrugging his shoulders, he made his way to the bedroom. 
Opening the door, he smiled at the sight presented by the pair of 
women posed suggestively on the bed. Both were waiting for him 
wearing nothing except for smiles. Looking from one to the other, 
Oscar smiled and said, “I missed you.”

“We missed you,” Georgia said inviting him to join them by 
wiggling in a finger in a come hither gesture. 

Over the next six hours, the welcome home exceeded all 
expectations and Oscar was a very happy man. Georgia and 
Debbie were both impressed by his stamina. His desire convinced 
them both that he had missed them as much as they had missed 
him. Sated and relaxing in bed, Georgia said, “You aren’t going 
anywhere without us from now on.”

“I think Oliver might want to have a say in that,” Oscar said 
thinking about his education program. 

“He has agreed that wherever you go, we go too,” Debbie said with 
a smile. The past three months had been spent badgering Oliver 
about Oscar’s absence. They had been relentless in their efforts to 
assure that Oliver would not be sent off somewhere without them. 

“I find that rather surprising,” Oscar said wondering what had been 
going on while he was in Thailand.

“She’s an animal when it comes to going after something she 
wants,” Georgia said with a smile. 

Running a hand over Debbie’s body, Oscar said, “I know. So are 
you.”

Moving so that she would stay in contact with his hand, Debbie 
giggled and said, “There are two weeks left to this quarter and then 
we’ll have a week off between quarters. After out vacation, we 
head to the Native American College for three months.”

“Really?” Oscar asked. He hadn’t realized that he had missed the 
last break. He was also unaware that he was headed to the Native 
American College. He had figured that the trip to Thailand was just 
one course taken out of sequence. The idea that his fifth year had 
actually started six months early was disconcerting.

“You bet. I’m looking forward to it,” Georgia said. The time spent 
at the Druid College had been pleasant, but working there had 
become boring. She had been used to changing environments every 
three or four years before coming to the college. She was looking 
forward to a chance to see new sights and have some new 
experiences. 

“What about your classes?” Oscar asked looking at Debbie with 
concern. He wasn’t comfortable with her putting her education on 
hold, even if was just for three months. If what he expected to 
happen when he went to the Middle East came true, then Debbie 
would need her education. 

“Oliver is arranging for the material to be videotaped and sent to 
me. I’ll have access to a lab at the Native American College,” 
Debbie answered fully confident that she would be able to keep up 
with her studies. Of course, it required a lot more self-discipline on 
her part than if she were surrounded by her classmates.

“Nice,” Oscar said relieved to hear that she wasn’t dropping out of 
school.

“Speaking of nice, it’s my turn to be the center of attention,” 
Georgia said caressing Oscar’s member with one hand and 
bringing it, with one stroke, to a full erection. Seeing that he was 
responding to her touch, she moved to lie between Oscar and 
Debbie.

Giving the brunette a pout, Debbie said, “Again?”

More than willing to satisfy both Georgia and Debbie, Oscar said, 
“And then it will be your turn, Debbie.”

“Goody,” the red head cooed. 

Much to Oliver’s displeasure, it was three days before any of them 
returned to school. Several hours after Georgia had returned to 
work and Debbie had gone to her first class, Oscar walked through 
the front door of the school. He hadn’t taken more than two steps 
before Oliver intercepted him. Oliver looked at Oscar and asked, 
“How was Thailand?”

“Ah, most of it was pretty boring until Ajaan Prajak taught me how 
to levitate while meditating,” Oscar answered in an offhand casual 
manner.

Surprised, Oliver asked, “He did what?”

“He taught me how to levitate while meditating. I’ll be happy to 
teach you how to do that,” Oscar said with a serious expression on 
his face. He was hoping that Oliver would go for it. He kept 
picturing Oliver flying through the air and landing in a pond. 

“You’re joking,” Oliver said.

“Not at all. It was probably the most important lesson he taught 
me,” Oscar said watching the Grand Druid study him. In a deadpan 
voice, he added, “I could teach you how to do that.”

There was a twinkle in Oscar’s eyes that Oliver didn’t trust. 
Shaking his head, he said, “Maybe some other time.”

“Just let me know,” Oscar said with a grin.

Oliver decided that he would request some more information from 
Thailand before giving into his curiosity. He said, “I suppose your 
girlfriends told you about going to the Native American College 
after the break.”

“Yes. I’m rather surprised by the news. I had expected to return to 
my previous course of study,” Oscar said.

“Not until things calm down a little more,” Oliver said. He wasn’t 
going to mention that there had been three assassination attempts 
on Mullah Farzin bin Saud during the time when Oscar had been in 
Thailand. Even more telling that problems were brewing, there had 
been an attempt on the life of Reverend Leroy Jones as well. With 
the recent death of Happy Harry, it was as if the entire world was 
going crazy.

“Georgia said they were coming with me,” Oscar said while 
nodding his head in confirmation. Seeing the look on Oliver’s face, 
he asked, “You wouldn’t be trying to get a little peace and quiet?”

“You might say that. I don’t think I could take another three 
months of listening to them moan about how I was keeping you 
away from them,” Oliver said. It seemed for the entire time Oscar 
had been gone that either Georgia or Debbie was on his case about 
sending their boyfriend away. Almost every time he had eaten in a 
student dining hall, one of them would arrange to be there to 
complain about his interference in their relationship with Oscar. 

“They did mention something about attempting to derail your vile 
plan to keep us apart,” Oscar said with a grin. 

“My vile plan?” Oliver asked raising an eyebrow before he 
realized that Oscar was teasing him. Posturing in front of Oscar, he 
said, “I’ll have you know that I’m the Grand Druid and there is 
nothing vile about my plans.”

“I heard something about you being a grand something or another, 
but Druid wasn’t in the comment anywhere,” Oscar said with a 
wink.

Laughing, Oliver knew when he was defeated. Shaking his head, 
he asked, “What are you doing over the break between semesters?”

“I think we are going to visit my parents,” Oscar said. He looked 
down at the floor as memories of his visions returned and then 
back at Oliver. In a quiet voice, he said, “I think this will be the 
last time I get to visit with them.”

“You still have your fifth and sixth year to go,” Oliver said 
hopefully.

“We both know that I won’t be here for the sixth year. I’ll be in the 
Middle East,” Oscar said. 

“You’re so confident that will be the case?”

Nodding his head, Oscar said, “Next Midwinter or the Midsummer 
after that I will be going to the glade. After that, I resume my 
service.”

“Do Georgia and Debbie know that?”

“No, but they suspect it,” Oscar said. Leaning closer to Oliver, he 
said, “I wish my service would start already. I’m tired of waiting.”

Oliver decided that it was time to change the topic of discussion. 
Grinning, he said, “Since you have nothing better to do, your 
friend William has arranged a little diversion for you while 
everyone else is studying.”

“What kind of diversion?” Oscar asked wondering what William 
could possibly have planned for him.

“There are two artists waiting for you. I set up a studio for them in 
the office where you used to keep your robe during your first year 
here,” Oliver answered.

“Artists? What would artists want with me?” Oscar asked staring at 
the Grand Druid.

“I heard that they had asked William for a real artistic challenge. 
They wanted to draw the ugliest person he knew. It seems that 
your name was the only one he could come up with,” Oliver 
answered with a grin. Seeing the shocked look on Oscar’s face, he 
burst out laughing. 

Shaking his head, Oscar said, “He just got our names confused, 
that’s all. Oscar does sound a lot like Oliver.”

“I am the Grand Druid. You really shouldn’t be making fun of me 
like that.”

“How should I be making fun of you?” Oscar asked trying to look 
as innocent as possible.

“Get up there and let them try their talent against your ugly mug,” 
Oliver said while chuckling. 

Laughing, Oscar went to the third floor of the Administration 
Building in search of the artists. Entering the appropriate room, he 
found that there was no one there. He did notice a sketch pad open 
to a page with Oliver’s face drawn on it. It was a good likeness and 
seemed to catch that slightly tired and tense expression that came 
with great responsibility. 

A noise behind him caused him to turn around. He looked at the 
young man and middle aged woman at the door. They looked at 
him with critical eyes that saw more than most. He asked, “Are 
you the artists?”

“I’m Karla Anderson.”

“I’m Dante.”

Oscar looked at the pair without recognizing the names. He said, 
“I’m Oscar Meyers.”

Karla went over to the sketch pad and picked it up. She turned to 
examine Oscar’s face. The Druid was much younger and shorter 
than she had expected based on William’s insistence that he was 
going to be as important to the world as John Carter. With pencil in 
hand, she flipped through the pages of the sketch pad until she 
found a clean sheet. 

“Don’t move,” she said. Without saying another word, she tried to 
capture her initial impression of him. 

While Karla was sketching Oscar, Dante circled around him. There 
was something missing. It was as if Oscar was supposed to have a 
prop of some sort, but he couldn’t imagine what it was. 

Although he was tempted to keep facing Dante while the artist was 
circling him, Oscar watched Karla work on the sketch. He asked, 
“What are you doing?”

“I’ve been commissioned to paint you,” Karla answered. 

“I’ve been commissioned to sculpt you,” Dante answered. There 
was the same sense of power about Oscar as there had been around 
Happy Harry. The problem was that the face looked too young and 
innocent despite the fact that his eyes gave the impression of 
having seen too much pain and misery. This statue was going to be 
a challenge.

“He’s got great eyes,” Karla commented. 

“Yes, they are his best feature,” Dante said. Great eyes alone didn’t 
make a great statue; he was going to have to capture the man’s 
entire spirit.

Raising an eyebrow, Oscar said, “I think my girlfriends might 
disagree with you about that.”

Knowing that she’d probably regret it, Karla asked, “Oh? And 
what do you think they would say?”

“Clearly it is my tall stature,” Oscar answered with a grin.

Figuring that Oscar was just about five feet in height, Dante 
chuckled and said, “You’re a Druid all right.”

Looking down at his red robe, Oscar asked, “What gave it away?”

“Your attitude,” Karla answered with a grin. 

“Oh, yeah. I guess that is a little more obvious than the red robe.”

The exchange triggered a stray thought and Dante stopped his 
examination of Oscar. Considering the subject that William had 
commissioned in the past, he was convinced that Oscar had done 
or was about to do something very significant. He asked, “Why 
does William think you are so important that he commissioned the 
two of us?”

Karla said, “William said that you were going to do something of 
international significance. I looked you up on the web and it seems 
that you’ve already done some pretty important things. Of course, 
it would take more than what I read to convince me that you are 
going to be as important as John.”

“John who?” Oscar asked hoping that it wasn’t John Carter.

“John Carter,” Karla answered.

“I was afraid that you were going to say that,” Oscar said. 

The news that Oscar was going to be as important as John Carter 
came as a complete surprise to Dante. The expression on Oscar’s 
face was what captured his attention. It was as if Oscar had 
suddenly aged ten years. There was the look of a tired man who 
was calling upon a reserve of strength and courage that would have 
deserted others. Curious, he asked, “What is it that William thinks 
you are going to do?”

There was a small chair to one side of the room. Oscar went over 
to it and sat down. Looking at Karla and then over at Dante, he 
sighed and said, “I really can’t say.”

“I knew John Carter ever since he started his service to the 
Goddess. You don’t strike me as having that same presence of 
John.” 

“I am not John Carter. You do a disservice to him and his family 
when you compare me to him,” Oscar said. The last thing that he 
ever wanted was to be compared to John Carter, but he knew that 
one day that is what people would do. John Carter brought forth 
the Druids and Oscar Meyers brought peace to the Middle East. 

“That’s odd. William Redman Carter is the one who suggested that 
you would be just as famous as John Carter,” Dante said. 

“William said the same thing to me. I should almost mention that 
John’s daughter, Beth, suggested that you would be as famous as 
her father,” Karla said.  

“I told her not to make that comparison,” Oscar said shaking his 
head. Looking up at the ceiling, he said, “This waiting is driving 
me crazy!”

“Well, while you’re waiting, we would like to get some 
preliminary sketches,” Dante said.

Hours later, the sound of pencils scratching on sketch pads was the 
only sound in the room. Ill at ease with being watched by the two 
artists, Oscar asked, “How much longer do I have to sit here?”

A duet shouted, “Don’t move.”

“I’ve been sitting here for hours,” Oscar said. He looked up at the 
ceiling wondering if this was another trial by the powers that be. 

“You’ve got all of the patience of a gnat,” Dante said. He had 
never seen anyone fidget so much during a sitting.

“I could meditate,” Oscar said knowing that his suggestion 
wouldn’t be accepted. It was not the first time he had made it. 

Irritated at his continued movement, Karla looked up from her 
sketch pad and tore off another half completed drawing. She said, 
“It changes your whole face.”

“It’s still my face. I don’t steal anyone’s face when I’m 
meditating,” Oscar said.

“You face loses all it’s character,” Dante said. He held up a 
drawing made while Oscar had been mediating. Even Oscar had to 
admit that it was a pretty bland face that had been captured.

“You were in Afghanistan, weren’t you?” Karla asked recalling a 
story about getting photographs of the Carter family.

“Yes, I was,” Oscar answered.

“I’d like you to sit there and just remember one of those days when 
you were out there alone,” Karla said picking up her pencil.

Oscar’s eyes narrowed and he stared straight ahead as if watching 
a scene play out in front of him. He was remembering one of the 
long days when he was lost in the middle of nowhere. A small 
group of men were traveling across the desert in front of him. It 
was hard to tell what side these men were on. They weren’t driving 
one of the standard white trucks used by the terrorists. Instead, 
they were in a white Mercedes sedan. The sedan parked at a point 
not too far from where Oscar was hiding.

Hours passed with the men in the sedan doing nothing. Finally, a 
dust plume appeared on the horizon. Oscar watched as the other 
vehicle approached. It took almost an hour for the vehicle to reach 
the other car. Looking down, Oscar expected to see several men 
get out of the new car. Instead, it was a man and a woman. From 
the first car, a young man got out and went over to the older man. 
They hugged.

From his position, Oscar was able to make out the conversation. 
The older man was returning his daughter to his son-in-law now 
that things had quieted down a little in the area where the young 
man was living. The pair exchanged stories of the fighting around 
various locations. Oscar had considered joining them because they 
didn’t seem to be terrorists and they might be able to return him to 
where his unit was stationed, but he didn’t quite trust the young 
man. Just as they were getting ready to leave, the old man brought 
over a couple of guns and put them in the trunk of the car. 

Oscar heard the young man say that he was helping to kill the 
Americans, but he didn’t want a return of the Taliban. It wasn’t 
fanaticism at work. The young man just wanted all of the 
foreigners to leave his country. It didn’t matter to him if they were 
Americans, Russians, or Arabs. He just wanted all of the foreigners 
to go home and leave them in peace.

After promising to take care of his wife, the young man held the 
door open for her. Once she was in the car, he told his father-in-
law that if anything happened to him that his brother would take in 
the woman and treat her in a proper Muslim fashion. Oscar took 
his finger off the trigger of his gun.

Oscar watched the two cars go in their separate directions. He 
didn’t stop them. They weren’t the strong who were taking 
advantage of the weak. They were the weak who were just trying 
to get by in a land torn apart by years of foreign occupation.  He 
hoped that they would find an oasis of peace and settle down. 

Looking around, Oscar saw that both artists had stopped drawing 
and were staring at the sketch pads in their laps. Curious, he asked, 
“What?”

Without answering, Dante went over to where Karla was seated. 
He looked down at her sketch pad and examined her drawing. 
After a minute, he showed the drawing in his sketch pad to her. In 
a soft voice, he said, “You saw it too.”

The sketch in Dante’s pad was from a different angle, but the two 
drawings could have been done by the same hand. She couldn’t 
believe what the pencil had captured. She couldn’t even imagine 
the kind of scene that Oscar must have been remembering. Karla 
said, “Hold up that picture of when he was mediating.”

Dante flipped though the sketch pad until he reached the requested 
drawing. Karla held up her drawing next to the other. Dante said, 
“You’d swear they were of two different people.”

Curious, Oscar asked, “What?”

Karla held up her drawing for Oscar to see. The expression on his 
face was indescribable. There was a trace of anger, a hint of 
sorrow, a dash of compassion, and a large measure of control 
etched into his features. Although the control was in place to keep 
the anger at bay, it was also keeping the tears in check as well. It 
suggested to Oscar that the pair of artists mush have caught the 
flavor of the entire conflict in Afghanistan in their drawings. He 
compared that to the picture Dante held up and said, “I’m sorry to 
tell you this, but I prefer the one of me when I was meditating. I 
look at peace in it.”

Dante looked over at Oscar for a long minute and then asked, “Are 
you at peace?”

Touching the spot where his medallion had once hung, Oscar 
answered, “I don’t know. I don’t think it really matters.”