| Timothy Johannson |
[27 Jun 2004|03:01pm] |
Timothy was the kind of kid who went to church and was moved. He was moved by the priests, he was moved by the sermons; he was moved by God. And I don't mean in that gross kind of way, it didn't get like that 'til he was older. But ever since Timothy was nine years old he knew that he wanted to devote his life to the church. This is his story... well, it's my story, about how he came back:
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One late Saturday afternoon, I received a call from an old friend of mine.
Timothy Johannson was a kid I knew when I was in elementary school. He lived fairly close to me, so on the walk home from school, he'd accompany me and teach me something about Jesus or Moses or something and I'd always tell him I didn't care. But he still told his story. He must have read the bible 50 times cover to cover before the end of 8th grade. He was dead serious about the whole God thing.
Sometimes it made me think about life and stuff. Well, actually it made me think about death. That's why I never got into all that shit. Because it wasn't about living life to its fullest, it was about fearing death to the fullest. How can we be expected to enjoy life, if the bible says we're born in sin? That's pretty fucked up. God gives us only one way to reproduce and continue civilized life, and that one way is sinful. I guess he has a good sense of humor. Anyway, so the more I walked with Tim the more I learned. I never went to church once in my life - besides a funeral and a wedding or two, deaths of man - but I could still tell you why God punished man for sodomy or why Noah built that arch that everyone talks about.
One time when we were walking home, Tim told me that he wanted to be a priest. I told him that I wanted to be an astronaut. As you can see by my "United Airlines" name badge, I didn't get quite what I wanted. But Timothy did. I heard from my mother about three or four years ago that Tim was on his way to becoming a priest. He was achieving his childhood dream. That's one hell of an accomplishment.
Most people who become priests, do it when they find God after college or when they're 50 and they need to find him and go to greatest extremes to do it. Timothy knew from his birth that it was what he was going to be. God found him, he didn't need to look any further. He was put here to teach me, and you, i guess, His words. And don't get him wrong, Timothy was a good looking guy. He came from a family who was well off and he could afford to play tetris for the rest of his life and live off of the fat of the land. Tim chose the lamb.
In highschool, Timothy was announced homecoming king. That would be exciting, had Tim gone to homecoming! He had nothing to do with sports or dances or any affiliation with the school at all. The girls loved him for his devotion, and the teachers respected him for is willpower, even though he was a quiet, shy, and bashful mother fucker who stuck his head in the bible everytime he was approached. As a matter of fact, the only thing "school-related" that Tim was even a part of was the "Christian Faith Bible Club" which he founded and managed every tuesdays at lunch. Tim's preserverence was so strong that he managed to get a school funded trip to the Vatican for Christ's sake. That's how good this kid was.
After high school, he went to a J.C. to get an AA in business - even though he was accepted to every college he applied to. His head was so far up God's ass that Jesus was jealous in heaven. "I have no reason for higher learning," he would say, "for God is my teacher and what I need learn he shall teach me."
I parted with him after high school and went to study at some photography school and got a B.A. in digital motion or some shit. It doesn't really matter, look at my job. I lost touch with Timothy over the years and soon forgot about him.
But now, 7 years later, my phone rings.
"Timothy?" It was him. The crazy sunuvabitch was in town and wanted to see me. Yeah, I still live with my parents, whatever the fucking story's not about me, shit. I asked him "you want to meet up?" He told me he'd be in LA indefinitely and we had all the time in the world. He hadn't yet mentioned God. "We have lots to catch up on," i told him. He told me we did.
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I met Timothy at his parent's house. I had seen them at the markets every now and then so i didn't think it was that big of a deal. They did. They were so happy to see the two of us together again. We weren't even that good of friends.
In fact, I actually got in my first and only fight with Timmy J when we were in 6th grade. I don't really remember what happened but I knocked his bible out of his hands and he started to cry. Me and the other kids laughed at him and he simply picked up the book and ran home. He forgave me the next day. I promise, the kid's not crazy.
After the unnnecessary teas and chocolates, Tim and I went to grab a bite to eat at this old shack we used to go to after school. The bathrooms were never cleaned. The Tables were never wiped down. The floor and the chairs were sticky. And it had this distinct smell of decaying rabbit - but we loved it.
We sat down and I ordered a beer.
"Water for me." He told the waitress.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are you not allowed to drink with the whole, priest shit?" Oops.
"Priest shit?" He laughed. "No, I just don't drink alcohol. But thanks for your consideration."
"Yeah... sorry..."
"And to tell you the truth, I'm not a priest."
"Bullshit."
"No, no. I'm not lying. I still live my life to God, but I realized that priesthood is not the thing for me."
"Do you fuck?" Me and my ignorance.
"You are on a roll today, aren't you? No, I remain celebate and donate most of my money to charity. I live the way God would want me to, I just can't live it with them."
Wow. All of my life I've known Timothy to be the kid to help the priests out on the weekends instead of play kickball with the rest of us. He made sure that everything was going to be perfect with "them" when the next mass happened. 20 years later, he can't even say "them" without cringing. Something good is coming.
"What are you talking about? I thought the church was your life! 'God's word is true through whatever is practiced on earth' YOU TAUGHT ME THAT. And now you shun them? What happened?"
"Actu..."
"Did you see them doing a little boy? Was it the little boys? I knew it was the boys!"
"No, calm down, my friend." I can get a little antsy. "There are over a billion Catholics world wide, of course some of the priests are going to be a little messed up. Does the world expect everyone to be perfect because they devote themselves to God? It wasn't the boys - although it is a scary thought."
"Well... what the hell is it? Did you break some holy dildo or something?"
He laughs and his water is placed in front of him.
"What can I get you guys to eat?" We always ordered the same thing. "Be out in a bit."
"No, I didn't break a dildo either. Are you currently seeking counseling because a friend of mine..."
"Hey, I don't want anything to do with that freaky cult shit alright. Just tell me what happened."
"I haven't told anybody yet. Even my parents don't know. I just told them I lost faith. I guess it's better to say that then to tell the real story..."
This was getting too good. "Go on," I urged.
"Alright. But this is between me and you, promise?" Promised.
"God, forgive me for this." He took another sip...
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"I'm going to tell you this story and I don't want any interruptions, understood?" I nod my head - don't want to interrupt with words. "No questions until I finish. No laughing, no gasping, nothing that will draw attention, deal?" It was a deal. "Alright, good. Friend.
It's funny that you mention the 'little boy' issue. I don't think I've told you this, but when we were younger, Pastor John used to molest me."
"You're fucking kidding me." I yelled. Everyone turned.
"Yes, I am kidding you. But as I suspected, you can't keep your dirty mouth shut, so I cannot tell you the story."
"Shit. Ok, i'm sorry. Here, I need a smoke, let's go out back, nobody's there and i'll promise to keep my cool." We walked outside with our drinks. I told the waitress that we'd be sitting on the bench outside and to bring us our food out there.
I lit a cig and motioned with my hands for him to continue.
"Don't blow in my face please." He coughed. My bad. "Okay. Let's just catch up entirely, shall we? After I left J.C. I went to Colorado where my Uncle is a vocation's director for the local church. He told me what I needed to do, and was my mentor throughout the... experience, i guess we'll call it. So, anyway, i went to a few sermons and a mass or two and studied the teachings up there. Although I knew I wanted to teach globally, I thought getting a feel for the community would be nice, maybe get more of a personal achievement from it all."
"How far did you go?"
"I went all over the place, but let me continue. So, I learned the ropes of what it was like being a pastor for a small church and I knew that I was on the right track of becoming God's tool. Within two weeks I was ready. I asked my uncle, 'what do I have to do to be one of you?' He hugged me and nearly wept at the thought of being side by side working with his nephew. He gave me a scroll to read and told me that it was vital that I studied it and prepared physically and mentally for the challenges God was going to make me face."
"Was it tough?" The food had come out.
"Not in the least, I had been practicing since my birth for God. The scroll was just a nice little addition to the blank walls in my monestary. Anyway, long story short. I became a priest. It was great, i was happier than I had ever been in my life. I was teaching, I was learning, things were amazing. My uncle was pleased and the church was pleased because i was a new face and people came into listen to me. I think I got more people to step through that door in my 8 month tenure than have ever stepped in there at all."
W.O.W.
"Am I boring you? No? Ok, good. So, I realized that I had accomplished my first goal. But there was so much more to do than just teach to old people. So I tried becoming a bishop. This was a little more difficult task. I went to England and met a man by the name of Jerome. He was a colored man, and a great instrument of God. He became my guide. Jerome had a problem though..."
"He fucked little boys?" I bit into my food. He sighed.
"No. But he wasn't celebate. He was one of those guys who found God after losing his wife. Although he was devoted to God, he was very lustful, and his temptations would soon better him. He told me that if I could tame his fire, then he would send me to italy to meet the pope himself, and there I could request a new diocese."
"So this black guy told you that if you could keep his dick in his pants for him, then he'd get you in with the pope? And you believed him?"
"Remember what I said about remaining quiet? He was a man of his word. He sent me on missions, and we roomed together. We went to france, spain, italy, china, you name it and we went there. However, the more places we traveled, the more Jerome grew fiery and wanting. I told him 'I have traveled with you long enough, and have tried my hardest to keep you under God's eyes. I believe it is time that you help me now.' Although I hadn't actually done anything but yank him by a leash every now and then, he understood that the time had come and got me to see the pope.
"When I had arrived with Jerome, i had told him that if he remained patient alone for 48 hours while I spent my time talking to the pope, I would be able to help him completely and God would recognize him for his deeds. And though i was talking out of my ass, he locked himself in a hotel for the 48 hours that I was away."
"You actually met with the pope?" I was in awe of his broad knowledge. How could someone I used to try and hang from a tree in my backyard have met with the pope?
"John Paul II himself. He really was a great man when I met him. Upon seeing him, I must've bowed 20 times until my clothing was torn from every seam. I was shocked when he told me to stand. He said that he had heard of me and my upbringings from the church. He asked what I have come for. I told him that I wanted to teach the world about God and how the only thing that has ever meant anything at all to me was His word. He asked me about my diocese and my studies and we talked for what must've been hours. But being in his presence was overwhelming, especially knowing I hadn't much time."
"Timothy. You haven't touched your food. Your story has gone on for an hour, and yet I still don't see why you're not a priest. Could we move this along?" I was on my second pack before he started up again. Maybe the guy was crazy.
"Sorry. Well, I told him that I wanted to become an archbishop and work for him. I believed with everything in me that he was closest to God. He was a great man, i believed."
"What's with the past tense?"
"Before leaving, I told him about Jerome who was having his problem. I knew that he'd have an answer since he has dealt with the whole child abuse already." Awesome... "And he pulled me close. He said to me,
'Pastor Johannson. I like you. I believe you to be a good man. You do not have to make up fake friends because I am the pope. I am a man like you.' I told him that he had the wrong idea but he insisted. 'When I was a boy I let my hormones get the best of me. But, upon finding God, I realized that it is He who is important... but man was built to spread his seed.'"
"Shut the fuck up! The fucking pope did not say that shit." By now, I notice the heads poking through the window, listening to Timothy's story.
"I'm not kidding. He continued to tell me about his youthful days and the women he's been with. I was shocked but realized that he is a man. He then brought me closer. 'I'm going to do you a favor,' he said. 'I've developed this program about 8 years ago, before the media became obsessed with nitpicking us. Follow that doorway.' He pointed in the direction of a curtain and the curtain pulled aside to reveal an old wooden door. He told me to follow the hall and take the third door on the left. He said he would meet me inside, along with the others. He said the program was designed for release from lust through self indulgance. Mind you, my Italian isn't 100% perfect, but I was pretty damn sure that's what he said."
"So what did you do?" I asked. Third pack.
"When the pope gives you and order, you follow it; especially if you want to work for him, and God, no less. So I follow the hallway to the third door on the left. When I open it, a sort of myst pulls me inside. When the door slams behind me, I'm enveloped in pure darkness. But this horrible moaning is overwhelming in the background..."
"Well... finish the fucking story!"
"Nothing. I just left and decided the pope didn't want me there."
"Aww bullshit!" A voice from inside yells. "You better finish that fucking story. You're no priest I can kick your ass!" Timothy looked around and noticed the crowed peering through the windows.
"Alright. Well, I walk inside and black curtains are draped from the 100 foot ceiling, and I can sort of tell that a light is coming from behind them. I walk through the drapes and the moaning gets louder. As if it's coming from a surround sound theater system."
"And?"
"And it was. I walk through all of the drapes with my head down and when I finally see the light it blinds me. I rub my eyes and as my pupils adjust, I see Pope John Paul II standing there in his robe. And nothing else. His robe flairs open and he greets me with a large welcome erection."
The bar goes crazy. 'Bullshit!' they say. 'Fucking liar!' they cry. He hasn't finished his story.
"I look around but I had nowhere to go. He was surrounded by four archbishops and security. All sitting naked, holding themselves. The pope grabs my shoulder and tells me to sit, and when I do, a large projection screen flashes images of women and men... con... conceiving."
"You mean they were fucking?"
"Yes, they were intercoursing with one another. I didn't know what to do. The pope thought I had the problem and I couldn't tell him that it really wasn't me. Who knows what kind of power the man has. But I had never seen anything like that in my entire life. I didn't know what to do."
"Then what happened?" A voice yelled.
"Well, the pope sat me down and told me that it was ok. 'There are many of us out there, and God understands it. I encourage this.' It was his 8 year plan to prevent the child sex abuse and sexual promiscuity amongst new priests..."
"A Holy Circle Jerk." Sixth Pack.
"Yes. If that's what it's called. So, I told them that I needed to use the restroom and that I'd be back. I never returned. I hung my robes and told my uncle that this wasn't for me anymore. That I had lost faith and that there was nothing anybody could do anymore. So now, my friend, I'm here with you."
"But, what about Jerome?" He can't just leave that part of the story out.
"I told him what he needed to hear...
'Behind the curtains, third door on your left.'"
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After that day, Timothy and I parted and I never spoke to him again. There was a big scandal later that week involving Pope John Paul II, and outcries for his removal streamed through the streets. I'm not quite sure what it was about, but I heard it involved racial discrimination and sexual battery.
Seeing Timothy was what I needed. I realized that if I had become an astronaught, my life might have been a little worse than living at home with my parents. Maybe I'll see him again sometime, hopefully I can hear the whole story next time...restroom my ass.
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aggravated
amused
depressed