Aboard My Train Of Thought, Scott C. Endsley [reading comprehension books .TXT] 📗

tried to show them my love by giving my son, and not wanting sacrifice in return...just their love. Oh, but they're so good at being religious. They love their traditions... They love to dress in all sorts of worshipful garb, just to be able to be among the few, chosen amongst themselves, to sit at the table of the worthy, while my children eat of the crumbs. And just who are my children?..."

"Pardon me, Jehovah..."

"Ah yes, Archangel Michael!"

"Pardon me, sir, but Satan wishes to speak to you in the courtyard.... Shall I tell him you're busy, sir?" Michael asked.

"No, no, no, send him in! Why, we haven't communicated since our wager over Job in the Old Testament," God laughed.

"Send him in?...Sir?" Michael hesitated as God nodded him toward the ethereal door.

As Michael reluctantly opened the door and waved Satan in, Gabriel picked up his trumpet and heralded the arrival of another visitor. "What was that?!" Satan growled.

"Oh," Michael sighed, "just Gabriel pretending to be the celestial doorbell again. Come this way. Jehovah God will see you now." The long walk up to the Heavenly of Heavenlys was a bit much for the old man. Satan huffed and puffed his way to his Majesty's throne.

"Ah, Lucifer! What a pleasant surprise!" God announced.

"Lucifer?" Satan scoffed, "Why, you haven't called me that in years! Getting a little mellow in all your pomp and circumstance?"

"No, Lucifer, it's just...well, I've been hoping you'd come around one of these days. You know, it's not too late to...."

"Oh, knock it off, Jehovah, you know I'm not gonna bow down to you, ask for forgiveness and worship you. I've got my own kingdom now!"

God sat up in his throne and looked Satan sternly in the eyes. "Why do you refuse me, when you know I'm going to destroy you some day, hmm?"

Satan just laughed, "Ah, I don't know, guess just for the hell of it!"

"Well, I'm a busy man, Satan. What is it you want?" God snapped back.

"Rumor has it," Satan wiped the sweat from his brow, "that You're about to throw in the towel..."

"If you mean destroy the Universe, yes, I've thought about it," God sighed.

"Jehovah baby! You can't just up and do that! I've...er um...You've got more souls to win!"

God stood up and began pacing on his fireproof floor. "Earth is just slipping away, moment by moment. No one honors me anymore. No, there's not one who really loves me! Why do I bother to love them? It's just my nature, something I can't help, that's all I guess... I want a relationship with my people, and all they are interested in is religion."

"Quite a subtle diversion I created, heh?" Satan laughed.

"More people get burned everyday by religion than will ever be burned in hell, Satan!" God turned with a tear in His eye.

"Oh, Jehovah, just give them another century or two...."

"Nope, Satan, I can't wait any longer... I long for my son's return with those who have at least trusted in his promise. I just can't wait to see the look on their proud faces when I hold out my arms and say: 'Not one of you got it right, every one of you missed the mark, but welcome to my kingdom, because...... I love you..."

"Oh God!" Satan rolled his eyes. "Oh sorry, but this is all too much for me. All I'm asking for is a little extension. You're always talking about your mercy and your grace. Well, have a little mercy on me..."

"I've had more mercy on you than anyone else, Satan," God rebuked. "If I hadn't been so merciful, I would have destroyed you even before the garden incident!"

"Ok, ok! What about this guy with the radio show, claims you're coming back before next year! You always pride yourself of no one knowing when you're going to destroy the world. You can't let that fuzzy headed talk show host get the date right, can you?" Satan prodded.
"It would just be a coincidence!" Jehovah protested.

"I know that, and you know that, but the guy would then be a Prophet to the rest of the world. And then, once again someone would steal your show. Now we can't have that, can we?"

"People are going to believe what they want to, no matter what. I've offered an easy road to salvation by just accepting the blood of my son as an atonement for all sins committed, and yet people want something harder. They would rather buy their redemption than accept it for free. So let the guy be a prophet." God shrugged his shoulders.

"Ok then, let's talk about Apathonia. All these Authoritarians are going to go to their graves believing the Great Anthony caused the big boing, and never know of your love for them. The planet will perish without ever hearing of the good news, not knowing you sent your son in their place to suffer for their transgressions. How can you be so hardshell as the religious folks that make you ill? Where is that mercy you're so quick to expect from your children, huh?" Satan preached.

"Why Lucifer," God laughed, "I didn't know you had such a burden for my children's salvation!"
"Well, I uh...."

"Ok," Jehovah said, "I'll extend more time; but make no mistake, Lucifer, my children will be with me no matter what. I'm extending the time for you. You still have time to repent should you choose, though I, of course, know you won't. In spite of that, I'm offering you a continuance. Now, get out of here before I change my mind!"

Satan tipped his hat, and walked out the door pleased, though humiliated. Gabriel picked up his trumpet and announced Satan's departure as Archangel Michael approached the Holy throne.

"Will you be needing anything else, sir?"

"That's all the visitors I'll be seeing today," God said, "I'm a bit ill at ease..."

"Well, perhaps a good book, sir," Michael offered.

"Ah well, um yes." He took the book from Michaels hand, "Aboard My Train of Thought, heh? Oh! by Clyde P. Hipwing! Yes, Yes! I like his stuff. He makes me laugh. Something those religious cronies swear I don't do.... Let's see... 'Looking out the window aboard my own train of thought, I suddenly realized I was on the wrong track'...Ho, ho, very good! I know just what he means!!!"
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(Episode 3)
Safe within the womb of my private home, I awaited the birth of a more quiet life. After trying several weeks, but failing, to find a decent job (because no one would hire me due to the security risk), I resorted to a meager paper route. I yearned for the days when I could write with little notoriety or consequence, but knew better than to even lift a pen or get behind a typewriter. How could such a once wonderful life become so useless and empty?

Maggie, my only companion, as I said earlier had long since left for Hollywood and never wrote much. My only means of friendship with anyone was through my Amateur Radio hobby, but I rarely got on the air due to all the enemies I had made with the general public while running the country.

Finally, one bleak and black Monday night, I decided in my drunken stupor I'd had enough. I took the small light-weight revolver to my right temple and pulled the trigger..... The television immediately came on as I discovered it was the remote, instead.

While waiting for my eyes to focus on the bright tube, I heard the unmistakable voice of the new President, Ralph McCovey: "You cats need to write your senators and congressmen to support my tax cut. High taxes have stagnated the economy for years, man!"

"Here's to you, Ralphy!" I scoffed with the bottle launching toward my mouth, but suddenly changing course toward the TV. "So it's OK when you suggest it, huh Ralph?!!!"

"President Hipwing fought hard for this bill." Ralph went on, "He believed in America, though America didn't believe in him. Well, I did! And despite of what you pinkos thought, I thought he was a great president!...."

I couldn't take anymore and staggered toward the television to turn it off. I picked up my bottle off the floor and took it to bed as if it was a cherished lover.

President McCovey became a national hero overnight, not so much for the fact he was America's first Black President, but because of his temperament. He demonstrated to America the nonconformist, independent, yet moral attitude it had longed to see in Washington for decades.
Ralph had always looked up to me, though he never really admitted to it, until recently. He remained very indignant for me, and on one occasion had to be escorted off a live television interview with Barry King for threatening to punch the host's lights out for making a snide remark about my presidency.

Shortly after my resignation from office, my book, Aboard My Train of Thought, sold another half-million copies, making it one of the all-time best selling books. Despite my enormous success in writing, I spent most of my time behind the bottle, often waking either on strange curbsides or cold jail cells.

Ralph wouldn't have stood to see me in such dire straits. He would have given me a verbal kick in the butt. "You lousy, good for nothin' loser, get off your fat fanny and show'em". But, Ralph was too busy running the country to know I was slowly killing myself with a deadly mixture of depression and drink.
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(Episode 4)
Erstwhile, about 50 lightyears away from planet Earth on planet Apathonia, the religious sect known as the Authoritarians were once again living in fear for their lives. They sensed hardship was in store for them ever since the beggar-turned-prophet, Kram Oingomeyer, began preaching.

Not much was known about him amongst themselves, he pretty much kept his prior existence concealed from everyone, and for a good reason. Kram worked for the Apathonian government until the accident that left him blind. He was once in association with the Apathonian Secret Service for 17 years, and did research, studying planet Earth and its inhabitants. For three years he lived secretly among the humans observing their behavior, and learning at least a dozen human languages. But while reentering Apathonia's atmosphere after a voyage from Earth, his craft's heat shield consumed and he suffered multiple burns, but most tragic, he lost his sight.
Kram later became a fanatical Authoritarian and gave up a promised comfortable retirement for the street life. He was persuaded that Queen Irol's regime was amoral, and that almighty Tony was going to destroy her as well as everyone allied with her.

Convinced that the book that befell his head and its writings were heavenly, he set out to find disciples who would accompany him to Earth in search of the Divine Author (myself) to carry back to Apathonia and expedite the birth of Sister Dawn, of which Orlando spake.

In time their numbers became great, and in fear of her throne being toppled, the Greatest of Greats made it a capitol crime to join the now-underground Authoritarians or be associated with them. If prosecuted, one could expect to lose his or her head in the atomic-egg-beater. Many Authoritarians were already in custody, and expected to be made examples of.

But Kram had no fear of the repressive regime as he and his associates were scheming a way to hi-jack a government spacecraft and go to Earth to seek the