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Chapter 8: The Extra-Value Meal: Burgers, Fries, and Prophecy

  “But he said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye know not of... My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to finish his work.” John 4:32,34

  Luke had been walking for almost an hour. His feet were startin’ to feel tired. “Man,” he said to himself, “I have been doin’ too doggone much walking lately. I ought a find me a horse. Let his feet get tired for a change.” Then he kinda reconsidered. “No, that would be unethical. Exploitation, so to speak. Unless the horse and I really loved each other. Then I think it would be all right.”

  Luke sat down on a hollow log that was alongside of the dirt road, in the woods. He took off his football shoes and kicked back. He was takin’ a break. “Man, wish I had a banana or somethin’. What good is a break without a small snack?” But were there small snacks in sight? No. Alas. There were none.

  Just then, Luke’s luck changed, and a great thing happened! A rainbow-colored bus came ripping down the road, going towards Chair. When the bus got to where Luke was sittin’, the bus driver slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt. He opened up the door and leaned out. “Hey fella,” he told Luke, “If you wish, you may get on this here good bus with the ace-groovy paint job, and you may catch a ride to the Town of Chair in the Gregdom of Greg. P.S. Ain’t I a great guy?”

  Luke hurried to put on his shoes and get on board. “Thanks, don’t mind if I do,” he told the driver, a drop-dead gorgeous young toughie with a red-hooded sweatshirt and a dirty Detroit Tigers ballcap. Luke paid his $1.30 and sat down in the front seat of the otherwise empty bus. “Hey, you look familiar,” he said to the bus driver.

  “Certainly,” the bus driver said humbly, “I am a local hero, loved by one and all. Hence, I am also well-known. P.S. You also met me when I was driving the route in Chicago.”

  “Of course,” Luke remembered, (welling with admiration once again).

  “Hey, you want a banana?” the driver asked him, opening a brown paper bag and offering Luke part of his lunch.

  Luke took the banana, and bowed. “I thank you, and your country thanks you,” he said in a dramatic, noble, patriotic speech.

  The driver looked at him suspiciously and responded with a patriotic speech of his own: “Yeahwhatever.” Luke shut up and ate his banana. The bus rolled down the empty dirt road at high speed. The World went by them, going the other direction at high speed.. “Far-out,” thought Luke, as he watched out the window. “They don’t have these things where I come from.” (He was talkin’ about the bus, not the World.)

  “So, who are ya, anyway?” the bus driver asked Luke.

  “I am Luke the Hun, Top Notch Guitar Player from Up North in Hun-Country. And you?”

  The good-looking bus driver with the crafty Tigers cap replied, “I cannot tell you my real name-- coz that’s how rumors get started. But folks generally call me either Hammer, or The Really Cool Guy.”

  Luke nodded. “I can understand why they call you The Really Cool Guy, but how did you acquire that happening nickname ‘Hammer’?”

  The Really Cool Guy looked proud. “It is because I am so useful.”

  “You certainly have come in handy,” Luke agreed, “By giving me this ride, and this here banana.”

  “Also, because I can hit hard,” added Hammer. Luke was thankful that Hammer did not demonstrate.

  “So it’s probably safe to assume that you aren’t a Wise Man,” Luke ventured a little disappointedly. Growing up with the Huns, Luke had learned that Toughman and Wiseman were usually mutually exclusive. (Or maybe it was just Hun and Wiseman that were mutually exclusive, he reconsidered.)31

  “Why, what’s up?” Hammer wanted to know.

  Luke was forthright. “I’m out to acquire the Wisdom of the Ancients is all.”

  The Really Cool bus driver looked upset, and he pulled his rainbow-colored bus over to the side of the road, slamming on the brakes and kicking up a cloud of dust. He turned to face Luke. “Listen man, I’ve got something real important to tell ya. No disrespect, but I think you may have inadvertently gotten onto the wrong track: What you need to be happy is not the Wisdom of the Ancients, but the Wisdom of Youth!”

  Luke looked puzzled. “But Hammer, the Ancients have seen more of life than we have; they prob’ly have forgotten more than you or I know. That’s why we have to recover the knowledge that has been forgotten, by reading up on old geniuses at the Library.” (A little bit pleased with himself for already having done so.)

  The bus driver shook his head, and then looked sly: “Granted, the Ancients have seen a lot more than we young punks. But they’ve seen the past, and we have the future!”

  “Are you saying you can see the future?” Luke skepticized.

  The Really Cool Guy with the red-hooded sweatshirt shook his beautiful Tiger-cap head. “No, man. Not see it, but feel it! The future is inside us, a part of us--and we a part of it.”

  “Wow, heavy. You are a latter-day philosopher,” Luke complimented, half-seriously.

  Hammer started his bus rolling again, and shook his head. “No, fella. Just a bus driver. But a young one, and a fearless one, who is willing to challenge conventions and replace them with Truth.”

  “What is Truth?” Luke wondered in a Pilate way.

  Hammer shrugged. “It’s a hard thing to put your finger on.32 But it’s bigger than you or me. That’s why we can’t grasp it by thinking about it. Thinking is something you do with your puny little mind, no offense. And Truth is something that you have to get in touch with through the Soul.”

  “And how does one get one’s soul in touch?” Luke challenged.

  Hammer’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Dancing!” he stated authoritatively. “There’s a swell spot in Chair called Gina’s Disco Emporium. I recommend that you check it out. I’m not promisin’ you a miracle, but it can’t hurt! You might start to feel the Wisdom of Youth, and the Future Inside. Plus, you may also meet some good-lookin’ damsels.”

  “Right on,” Luke nodded approvingly. They continued their pleasant-quick bus ride to Chair, on a good summer’s day with the windows down, singing ABBA songs.33

  By the time they got to Chair, Luke was well on his way.

 

  The bus rolled into the lovely Town of Chair at high noon. “Where shall I drop you off then,” asked the bus driver.

  “Well, seeing how it is high noon, maybe I should go for lunch. Do you know if there’s a Diner about?”

  The Really Cool bus driver nodded. “I can take you to Tom’s Diner, or... I can drop you off at Ramin’s Produce Market and you can buy some apples and grapes! I shop there all the time! Ramin is a pretty cool guy! We play One-on-one sometimes. He’s got pretty good range on his jump shot, but I usually beat him in the paint. Oh yeah, and he doesn’t charge much for his produce either!” (Remembering to get back to plugging for his friend the shopkeeper.)

  “I shall take it into consideration,” said Luke, who had too big an appetite for just grapes, “but for now I guess I shall go to Tom’s Diner.” The Really Cool Guy took him there. “Hey Hammer, come on in and I’ll buy you lunch,” Luke offered, in a generous, nice-guy approach, still flush from those sold-out concerts.

  “No thanks, remember,” the bus driver told him, as he showed Luke his brown paper bag. “I brought my own.”

  “K. Suit yerself,” said Luke. Then Luke thanked him for the ride, gave him a high-five, and went into Tom’s Diner, while Hammer drove his rainbow-colored bus to the other side of town, where he picked up an old lady named Grammamiller and gave her a ride to San Jacinto to see the rainbows.

  In the diner, Luke the Hun met a chef named Tom. He was gettin’ rather bald, so he was wearin’ one of those fancy white chef’s hats. He was a real good guy. “Hello, Tom-brother,” Luke told him. “Can I have some lunch.”

  “That is what I am here for,” Tom agreed. Then he went and started cooking a couple of hamburgers and a bunch of french fries, so t
he two of them could have lunch. There was a good deal of sizzling, simmering, scorching and smoke. While Tom was in the kitchen, Luke took advantage of having a hard surface to write on, as he got his Bible out on the table and added words with which to remember Hosanna: ‘Confession’, and ‘Prayer’, as well as keeping her exclamation intact, ‘Miracles and Blessings!’ And why not add ‘Hope’, which is what she had given him! And ‘Holiness’, which was the word that described her. Then Luke also jotted down some of the bus driver’s words: Youth, Feel, Soul, Dance. Four for $1.30, not a bad bargain, he thought to himself.

  “Whatcha got there?” Tom asked, coming back with their plates.

  “Oh this? I am making some notes, as people give me angles on how to find joy, truth, and meaning in this meaningless world. Say, you got anything for me?”

  Tom thought for a minute, and then since his beloved pastime was golfing, he came back with some golf tips, time tested and sure to brighten anyone’s future: “Think where, not how far.” (Luke coulda saved himself a lot of walking, both on and off the golf course, had he written that one down) “and, Control your swing, and you control your game.”

  Luke was confused. “Game? Huh?”

  “Golf, son. Maybe that won’t solve all your problems, but it will sure save you some frustration on the links.”

  Luke looked sad. “I don’t play golf. I play football.”

  Tom reflected. “Then again, the same principle may apply. It doesn’t matter how hard and fast you run or throw the football if you’re not on target either--if you miss the block, miss the tackle, miss the receiver. Hey, there’s a trick for you right there! Try to see how any one principle or piece of advice fits other situations. Maybe get yourself two or three good ideas instead of just one! ‘A little thinking can save you a lot of working’. See, that one is true in house repairs, and on the golf course too. Bonus.”

  “Control, huh? Like maybe if I get my life under control, I’ll be able to go in the right direction more often?” Luke asked, trying to apply the golf metaphor to his search.

  “Now you’re cooking,” chef Tom complimented. “But remember the other half of the equation too: usually what costs you control in golf is trying to hit the ball too hard. Maybe in life you can try too hard as well.” Luke wasn’t sure what that meant, so Tom went ahead and fleshed out what he was thinking: “What happens if you try too hard to control your life and your destination? You get control of your life. That can be good, but maybe to be truly great, you need God to be in control! The harder you work at it, the less you allow Him to work.”

  Luke looked a little uncomfortable, coz he was still struggling with that whole idea, still not getting it. Tom wondered if Luke might not be ready for such super-size theories and all-encompassing ideas just yet, and maybe some good old, plain old, practical tips were in order instead. So he turned to his other great passion, and began giving cooking tips. “Wash your pan before you cook.” He nodded knowingly-- experience being the great teacher. “Put the burgers on five minutes before the fries...” (Three minutes, Luke made a mental note, coz the burgers were just a little tough) “And, Never cook more than you can eat,” Tom finished a little sadly, gesturing at the almost empty diner. This one was kind of like ‘Don’t bite off more than you can chew,’ except better suited to Luke, coz if a Hun bites off too much, they just spit it back out and then finish it with a couple bites anyway. Yum.

  “Now you givin’ me stuff I can use,” Luke said happily and hungrily. “Pearls.” Then he added, perhaps trying to negotiate a lower bill: “About makes up for this dinner you gave me. The french fries are awesome, but I think you kinda burned the burgers.”

  “Sorry man, this is kind of a second job,” Tom explained. “I only got into the business to pay the bills, because I wasn’t making too much money in my chosen profession.”

  Luke was curious; “And what profession might that be? You must be a farmer? Or maybe a teacher?” he guessed.

  “No, I am a prophet,” Tom said softly.

  “Well, I’ll be sand-blasted,” Luke exclaimed. “I am honored. One doesn’t meet too many prophets in this day and age.”

  “Nor does one meet very many guys named Tom,” Tom pointed out.

  “True!” Luke agreed. “Not nearly enough! You are a rare breed indeed. Well now, seein’ how the burger was...um, Crunchy, maybe you would be so kind as to hit me with some free prophecy?”

  Tom the Prophet thought about it, as he ate his french fries. “Okay,” he decided, “since you are a paying customer, I guess I can do that for you.” Then he stared deep into Luke’s eyes, and tried to get a fix on ‘im.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Luke said nervously. “Aren’t you supposed to look into a crystal ball or a palm full of tea leaves or something?”

  Tom reproved this occult superstition with narrowed eyes and a tightened jaw, then shook his head, and said softly, “No, my friend. We must both look into your heart.”

  “Yikes; What do you see?” Luke asked bravely.

  Tom first looked hard into Luke’s eyes to discern where Luke was going in life; then Tom closed his eyes and looked to God to discover where Luke was supposed to go. Tom the Prophet offered up a prayer, and received back a prophecy: he went to God with his own words, and came back with God’s words. (Talk about trading in and trading up!) Then he rubbed his chin slowly, stared a faraway stare, and proclaimed in reverent, mysterious tones. “Luke, it shall soon come to pass that you will see a sign from heaven, upon the earth. And your life will be saved, if you take heed and obey.”

  “Right on! You’re kinda talkin’ in riddles, but I like the part about my life gettin’ saved, anyway. Good stuff! Gee, thanks for everything, fella. Here, have some pay, and have a nice day. (And I’ll be on my way!)” Luke cheerfully rhymed. Then he gave Tom three coins of nickel and one of uranium, to pay for the meal and the prophecy. They shook hands and wished each other well, and Luke left the building.

  He walked out into the sunshine, and looked up and down the yellow dirt road in front of Tom’s Diner. He smiled at the day, and patted his belly, and decided to go down the road towards his left.

  Luke traveled down to the end of Tom Street, and was about to round the corner onto Gina Street, when he noticed a tall, metal road sign on his right. It was triangular, and in its center was the word YIELD. Now, it caught Luke’s attention because there weren't very many road signs on the pretty planet of Timnalauren, because there wasn’t too much traffic, because there weren’t any cars and only a handful of autobuses. So Luke figured he better pay it some heed.

  He cautiously peeked his head around the corner of the brick house on his left; and it's a good thing he did, because just at that moment a rainbow-colored bus came careening down Gina Street (en route to San Jacinto) at a high rate of speed, and Luke was forced to jump back out of the way to avoid being demolished.

  A few of the great people of Chair saw the incident, and they hurried over to see if Luke was okay.

  “Hey kid, are you okay?” asked an old geezer called Willy. Luke said yeah he thought that perhaps he was. Willy turned and shook his fist after the rainbow-colored bus. “That darn Hammer. He’s always driving too fast! ‘The Future’ comes to all of us at the same pace, regardless of how fast we move ourselves. The only thing you can get any sooner by driving fast is Killed! That’s why we put up that sign there; to try to keep people from getting killed. We’ve tried to get Hammer to slow down, but you just can’t talk sense to that stubborn kid. He acts like he owns the road--and in a way I suppose maybe he does. But being the only driver on the road still doesn't excuse his recklessness. After all, the fewer vehicles, the more pedestrians, right?” Willy shook his fist after the long-gone bus again, purely on principle.

  “Wow,” said Luke. “I have learned some important safety lessons today. Thanks. But even more than that, I thank you for putting up this heaven-sent sign in the first place. It saved my life, just like Tom said it would.�
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  Willy nodded. “Tom's a good guy. Still, don’t be too certain this is what he meant. Prophecy is a tricky thing to understand, and Tom has fooled me once or twice, wise though I am.”

  Luke agreed. “Yep, it sure was wise of you to put up this sign, anyway.”

  “That's my job,” said old Willy. “I'm the Mayor, so it’s my responsibility to look after my people and help them out any way I can.”

  An ordinary cynical individual might have doubted the politician's claim, but Luke was pretty trusting, and he was impressed both by the mayor's seeming sincerity, and by the fact that Willy was the mayor. “Wow. What luck,” said Luke. “I have come to this town to run for Mayor! Maybe you can show me the ropes.”

  Willy was happy to be shown respect, and he responded with kindness. “Why sure, son. I’m retiring of course, so I can move south and relax in my old age. But the least I can do for the people of Chair is to leave them in good hands! You seem like a nice kid, the kind who cares, the type of guy who wants to make a difference. Say, what brings you to the Chair political scene anyway?”

  “My friend Hosanna thought that if I got elected, I would have some power to bring about right-on changes, like World Peace.”

  This time it was Willy’s turn to be impressed. “Boy, you sure are a gentleman. Pure of heart and of honorable intentions. Yes, I’ll be glad to help you get elected. Come by my house tomorrow morning, and we'll start working out a campaign strategy. Now I’ve got to be going, son, you must excuse me. I’ve got to visit those who are sick or in prison. (And those who are sick of being in prison!) Anyway, please look around my town, have a great day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then Willy hobbled away and went to the hospital, climbed to the fifth floor, and went to Room 311 (the Small Cheek Wound Ward) to commiserate with Dorothy, who had been injured in an industrial accident, and to rap with a madical street fighter named Sam of the Border, who had been gashed while practicing his craft and sullen art.

  Luke wandered around the Town of Chair for a while, getting the feel of it and doing a little window-shopping. In the evening he went to Gina’s Disco Emporium, as The Really Cool Guy had advised. It took him awhile to get into it, but eventually a graceful girl named Kylie-Ki started flirting with him, and they danced for a while, and soon Luke got into the swing of things, and had a great time disco-dancin’! He couldn’t be sure if Hammer had been right about its effects on the soul, but it was good for the legs anyhow.