What has your god done for you, lately?

This is part #1a of Chapter 3 in the "Backsliding" story, an excerpt from the "Backsliding," book, as we continue.

Suppose you should find out that you’re on your own, though, or worse? What if you should find out that you’re your own worst enemy? Of course, that’s a farce, but what if it’s not, both in the individual, as well as the collective sense of the term to see, the old-school general, on the lot? Like, how did you, as an individual, and “us” as a people get to such a place as this is? How did we get this comfortable in our collective misery on our faces? How did you, how did we? Is this all that there is to life for people like us to be? Should we even ponder these questions, or ask a wife of him, and me? Did we as a people ever stop to think for a moment that there could be just a bit more than this, the current state of affairs as it is, to life, and the kids? In our lives even, if we had only dared to do things differently, or reason these things out, evenly? To apply ourselves to the tasks? No, not the ones in the sky, but, like, to ask why, like. Why did it all have to come to this, and so fast? No, I don’t have the answers either, just the questions to ask you, Freda.

 So, the Elk would have gotten himself kicked out of the church, unceremoniously so, of course, it did hurt a lot, on his backpack. Or even worse than that… For what, did you ask? For having the unmitigated gall to go writing books, storybooks of sorts. A fictional storybook included in the pack, at that, about love, sex, relationships, and such. He then tried to sell that book to said church folks. Thought that; perhaps he could make a little extra cash here and there in the process of leading, and steering. Or a lot of it, like thieving Steven, the prophet, beware of him. Couldn’t hurt anyone, anywhere. Well, so you’d thought after reading, this pair… Can’t do that sort of thing any, not in this church, namely… “Around these parts,” he was told, we go out and get a job, and fast, even in the cold… freeze zzz. “A real job,” they say, as if it’s the only thing that’s going to be an answer to the prayers they’d prayed. Well done, at last, you’ve prayed, as real folks around here does, and do. Especially real church folks like them, and yes, you. Isn’t that true? Yes.

That’s what we do around here, that’s what you’re going to do too, my dear. We’re real folks, real folks go out job-hunting on spokes, and searching, of course. After we’re done with praying, for said jobs, just saying! Those other kinds of jobs that other kinds of folks will have to go out and find ways and means of creating and providing for us. It’s not about us doing it for ourselves, nor facing the fuss, over wealth, no, more like; the lack thereof. They’d better do it. Like, go out and create those jobs for us, the prophets. Because we’d prayed and asked our god for it, and the comforts. It’s now your job to go out, create, and deliver it to us, first and foremost. You had better do it because you don’t want what’s coming to you next if you don’t. Spit! We’ll pray to our god again, and she will come and get you out front, often, for not doing what you ought to do. For not providing us the jobs that we needed to earn our food like you already know that you ought to. So that we may go out, or even come in. Into our father’s churches, and with praise and thanksgiving.

To worship our God and king with the gifts of our first fruits of the evening, every pay period, even. Just like she’d asked us to do and was glad, yes, it’s true. Or did she? Come and see. She never said that we should be the creator of anything, not even jobs, oh! the poor thing. A piece of work like me, I’m glad that she’s in… She never asked that of us, let alone art and crafts, which could include our writings, in the creativity class. Wrong things even, like, writing books and such? No, not those again, no more books that could (possibly) earn us some real money, no handcuffs hanging on me, or better off… Bringing us lots of real money. No pops. She never asked that of us, we dare not do such, or else, we may earn the wrath of our leaders in the house, and wives. That’s the very last thing that the Lord will have us doing to please her, no surprise. For sure, heaven will never see our faces for such wrongs that we would have committed and delivered, against our church and moms, scrubbing away at the rocks in the rivers, to the bottoms. Its leaders too, rulers, and most importantly, the sacred rules of the said church.

 So, “Four weeks,” they’d said. You’ve got to sit down for four weeks and take a break from your positions in the church, mi bred, from the cup and bread, and play. Like, no more of you sitting up there and playing the music of the day. Really? Some kind of sanction I’d say. Feel me? What were they even thinking that day? Were they even thinking at all? What were those positions? One might have asked, and one would have been right to at least ask, or wonder about the paths. The Elk was a very busy person in the church, mi cousin. A busybody, some might have even ventured to say to me, like a curse. He has a way of getting into things he (seemingly) has no business getting into. Like jobs for example, and you. Jobs that, just like everything else with these folks, they were never approved of it, when you’re going into the corks. But they’ll surely approve of the money coming out, of course, and like, coming out of it to them, in the end. Just for instance, I’m saying this, my friend. Relationships too. The Elk tends to get into other people’s relationships queue, like, telling some among them there, what to do. Especially the young ones amongst them, and you. Telling them to get one, like, a relationship plan. Get one of those things and move on with the business of living, the business of life. Like, having children and wives, well, if the husband was to be the choice. Can’t do that, not around these parts on these lot, tory pots, not around here, Mister Matts, but the robots are coming, my dear. Huh-huh.

 Not long after arriving on the scene over there and getting himself settled in with a box of beer, like, like, somewhere in between them, sitting there. Elkhan the Elk would have gotten a hold of a credit card, something he never had before, you know, like, him coming in from the West Indian countryyard, and all. “Now, I can go out and purchase something, anything I want,” so said the Elk to himself and them, with a chant. Yeah! A car was his item of choice, and off to the car-marketing plant, they went, singing and rejoice, is what he meant. Would have gone car-hunting, you know, with one of the elders from amongst them, the chiefest of foe, I mean friends. Spotted a couple of fine-looking cars, yes, as fine as you are. The elder liked the blue, the Elk liked it too but, but he liked the grey more than you.

This was the Elk’s very first automobile, and him being that way behind the wheels. While at the same time, the elder, was a seasoned person in the automotive world, though not a proper welder. Elk needed all the help he could get, and the girls’ address. He needed the elder’s help in making a decision, you bet. He schooled him, yes, he schooled the Elk on all the reasons why the blue was the car for him and you. Of course, he bought the grey, you know him well today, the Elk, yes, he who is a wild ass son of a big-time chicken farmer around these parts. “How so,” you’d asked, and stormed her. How did he get to be so brazen on the task to, like, disarm the mister? Elk would have learned over time how to use, (or not to use) the advice and instructions that they were giving him. Based mainly on his assessments of the real value of such, towards the win. He got the car, yes, the one he’d chosen above him, her, and the rest. It’s performing great, everybody likes it too, even the Ape. So, now it’s luck that’s running into him from the blabbermouths, of the day. Every chance that this and other such person gets, (or didn’t get,) they’d venture into telling him just how “lucky” he was.

It’s not the blessing effects anymore, as was the custom on the prayer floor above, before. With him and his kind of people, you know, like, the crook, and you. “So, I am lucky now,” said the Elk from within the bore. But then, the harder he worked and tried to do such things, the luckier he found that he was getting to become with them. Even at getting into the inns, come to think. He, therefore, just went right along doing his things, his way. Then, one day, there was to come that other occasion, like, let’s just say it this way, when the Elk himself, had gotten what was to become his very first real long-term job, from you, no? “No.” Anyway, let’s go along, boo. Again, he talked to them, and he told it to the elder and a few other of the friends. Yeah, we have a way of telling them everything, every time. So, the Elk told them about it looking for an “amen” and an acquit, no denying, it. I know, he too is one from among them and you,

we as a people, never learned nuttn, my friend. Nothing at all. So, he told him about the job he’d gotten himself, the elder wanted details. “It’s nothing too grandiose, really, just a machine operator’s job on the house,” feel me? A sewing machine operator’s kind of job to toast. “Oh no,” he said and sobbed. “I don’t think that a man like you should be doing that type of work for a job,” like, (like, my job is not like your job.) You can do much better than that working for the mob, Bob. Well, not really, that’s not how the conversation went, willy-nilly, no. Bob was out working at his job, at the time, yes, but he was talking to the Elk, and me, of course. (Nice smile!)

That's it for today, see you again tomorrow, or sometime thereafter. Don't forget to like, share, and comment. We sure would appreciate it if you would subscribe and follow us somewhere too, thank you. 

@WritingElk