Chapter
6: Angels, Men &
Dudes
by Angel Rodriguez
You know, if you meet me on the street, you’d type me
as a strong twenty-something Latin-American woman- with-a-mission,
with the drive to conquer the world and make her dreams come
true. I guess I sort
of fit that bill, except the dreams I’m consumed in are never
my own.
Every time I fall for a man, suddenly my inner compass melts, my bones
turn to jelly, and I become a chameleon -- I turn into whoever and whatever I
think he wants me to be. His passions become
my passions and it completely consumes me.
I understand my problem. I’ve tried
to change. But I’m just a passionate person, and every
time I somehow convince myself that this is the ONE -- the right man and the right
passion. I know I’m really still young,
not even close to thinking about thirty yet, but the way my life was going, it
seemed before I knew it, I’d be a nutty old maid, still jumping from one man and
one cause to the next. I was just tired
of that inevitable fate. If I didn’t have
my faith in a higher purpose for each of us, well, I don’t know how I’d go on
some mornings. I mean, how much disappointment can a poor girl take?
That
day in particular definitely started off as one of my all-time lowest. Michael had just dumped me with no warning at
all. Until the moment he’d left, I was
certain that it was the real thing. My
go-get-em, all-consuming passion had turned another one away -- from me and from
his own cause. I was starting to doubt
all my convictions. I was really getting
tired of trying to SAVE everything and everyone, because inside, all I really
honestly wanted was just for someone to save me. That morning I had decided that I wouldn’t ever
feel that way about anything again, until I discovered what my real passion was.
Then I delivered that artichoke and bean-sprout pizza to Mister Peace,
and instantly everything changed. I suddenly
felt passionate again, more passionate than ever, and it had nothing to do with
a man this time. For the first time, I suppose.
Not that Peace,
er, um, Merle isn’t a man, of course, but I mean usually I’m attracted to the
man long before I wrap myself up in his cause. There definitely wasn’t an attraction when he
opened that motel door. All I saw was a
balding middle-aged hippie in his boxer shorts, who had better give me a big tip
after all he’d put me through. Then I
saw all that money, and suddenly it was like the world was full of infinite possibilities.
I was sure that my desire to change the world for the better was MY passion,
and that money was my ticket to make it happen.
When Merle agreed to let me lead this quest to save the world, I knew never
again would I be any man’s left shoe. I
was certain beyond a doubt that I was strong and ready and the One who could help
make it happen. I felt in control, invincible, and sure of my destiny.
Then ‘Peace’ came out of the bathroom after changing, and he was wearing
a rainbow-colored robe and sandals and dark sunglasses, and I felt like the wind
was knocked out of me. Did this guy have
all his marbles? But you know, I took
a deep breath and shrugged it off. Even
if he were crazy, there was this wonderful mission and he had the money to maybe
make it happen. If I could have a chance
to be part of that dream -- to lead that dream -- he could wear whatever he wanted
and call himself Merlin or Peace Dude or God Almighty. It was fine by me.
So
we got to the peace rally and I was out there hollering with
the best of them, and all the while Peace Dude was quiet, kind
of just watching, waiting. And then I looked over and he had this gleam
in his eyes and before I knew it, he was up on the platform
throwing money out at the crowd.
And they handed him the microphone and he started in
like a preacher, laughing and singing and talking about peace
on earth and how we can all make a better world, while he tossed
out more money. But no
one listened. They just
pushed to get closer to the floating bills. As soon as he ran
out of money, they really got ugly, and there was a whole lot
of pushing and shoving, and there were police everywhere and
... well, next thing I knew I was watching them haul Peace and
a bunch of others off in a police van.
So I dashed back to the motel, grabbed plenty of cash and bailed them all
out. Merle was very quiet as we rode back to the
motel in a cab. “That didn’t go very well,”
he sighed.
“Dude, we need a plan,” I agreed.
“Well, what do we do?”
I’d been thinking hard about this ever since I saw all that money. I had lots of ideas. “We make a movie,” I blurted. “It’ll get everybody excited about working together
to create a better world. These aliens
come, see, and threaten to blow up the world unless we change our evil ways, and
the whole world joins together to save us and...”
Merle sighed.
“A movie’s good. Changing the way people think is exactly what
we have to do in order to change the world. Somehow
we have to convince everyone that ‘peace on earth’ is a goal that nations and
individuals should be working toward. If countries and companies and communities and
ordinary people made all their decisions with ‘creating a better world’ in mind,
it would really make this world a better place. A movie’s a good start, but we need something
bigger...”
I had plenty more ideas. “Okay...
we need to get the idea of creating ‘peace on earth’ into all the media - TV,
the movies, books, music...”
“Now you’re talking...” Merle smiled
as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“We can set up some place where artists and writers and musicians from
all around the world can come and create, and then we help market it and get out
in the world... we’d have a peace factory.”
“PERFECT!” Merle was laughing. “And
I’ve got just the place in mind -- in Costa Rica there’s this sacred mountain,
Mt. Rasur, and according to ancient myth, peace on earth is supposed to spread
from there throughout the world. The University
for Peace is right there in the shadow of the mountain... The perfect site for our creative arts
peace factory."
Definitely sounded like a promising idea.
“But...” I hesitated. “There’s a
million projects to make a better world out there already.
Heaven knows I’ve been part of too many of them. We need some hook... something that ties them
all together into one big movement, while at the same time giving people a goal
they can work on together to achieve. Something
specific that they can get excited about and some way to mark our progress.”
Merle
sat up and gasped, “ONE DAY IN PEACE” he yelled.
The taxi driver was startled and swerved a little more than usual.
Then he told me all about the campaign he and a whole
lot of others were working on for January 1, 2000, and how far
they came without any money at all. “We’ll concentrate on one mantra: ‘ONE DAY IN
PEACE, JANUARY 1’ and people can get their cities and states
and countries involved. And
every night in the news they’ll show more lights on the map
as new places get involved, and they’ll share inspiring stories
about how people are changing their lives and their communities
for the better by joining in to work for humanity’s first day
of peace ever, one day at a time.
And every year ‘One Day In Peace, January 1’ will be
bigger and bigger!”
It sounded interesting. What better
New Year’s resolution could the world make each year than trying to live in peace. But I wasn’t totally convinced. “The One Day In Peace angle is a great one,
and it’ll get people motivated, but what we’re talking about is much bigger than
a once-in-a-year event...” I said slowly as an idea grew in my mind. Merle could practically see it growing in my
eyes.
“We’re
talking about a whole movement here,” I continued. “There’s so much going on out there that no
one knows about. If we can connect the
dots somehow, people will see that they’re not alone in their efforts to make
a better world. And the media will see
the acts of kindness going on all around us are not random -- they’re part of
a wonderful movement -- a PEACE ON EARTH MOVEMENT.”
“I love it!” Merle exclaimed.
My mind was racing a mile a minute. "Probably would be better to call it
the BETTER WORLD MOVEMENT though, since, no offense, but lots of people get bent
out of shape when you talk about 'peace on earth."
Merle
nodded reflectively. "You've got a point," he agreed reluctantly. "But I still
think 'One Day In Peace' should be a primary focus of the movement, but we'll
talk more about it... We’ve got to get Artie Taylor back into this -- he was my
right arm, way back when.”
He
was really excited. Except he had no idea where this Arthur Taylor
was now. Truth be told,
I wasn’t very impressed with the stories about how Artie as
King Arthur and Merle as Merlin would make fools of themselves
on stage for peace. And
besides, I was his right arm now.
I moved closer so the driver couldn’t hear me through the bullet-proof
window separating us and him. “Look, we’ll pack up all the money, and set up our
‘peace factory’, and we’ll use it to promote a new ‘better world movement’ and
‘one day in peace’ and then once we’re set up and running we’ll look for your
King Arthur.”
Merle nodded in agreement. “This
is great!” he laughed, thundering a few too many decibels louder than my ears
could take. The taxi driver couldn’t take
it either, even through the bullet-proof shield, because he really swerved now
and I went flying into Merle.
Ouch. We must have bumped heads, and I lay there on
top of him for a good minute or two before I realized what I was doing. My heart started to pound. Embarrassed, I sprang
up and belatedly pulled my seat belt on. I
felt a huge awkward moment hanging over us, but Merle didn’t even seem to notice.
I sighed and wondered what was going on inside me.
I recognized those embarrassed jitters all too well. Was I starting to
fall for him now? Or was that bump on the
head just throwing my judgment off?
It must have been the bump on the head.
How else can I explain how I agreed to what we were about to do next?
We quickly packed all the money up when we got back to
the motel, and within an hour we were on a plane heading for
Los Angeles and then on to Costa Rica. Now, if you know me, you know I hate to fly.
I just hate being up there so far up off the ground. I leave that to my angels. So, how did I find
myself early the next morning holding on to Merle for dear life
as I’m falling out of the sky.
“Isn’t this great!” Merle laughed as we started to drift apart. Up above, my brightly colored parachute was
just barely keeping me from plummeting to the ground, and in the distance the
airplane faded away.
I shook my head in disbelief, feeling the bump on my head still slightly
throbbing. It was as if I’d just awakened to find myself
in a falling-nightmare. “Peace Dude, weren’t we just in that nice cab in Miami?”
I moaned. “How did you talk me into this?”
Merle’s smile just got wider. “Isn’t
Costa Rica beautiful!”
The sky and the
mountains and trees might very well have been beautiful, but I kept my eyes tightly
shut and starting praying. “Where are my
angels when I need them,” I muttered.
All of the sudden I was panic-stricken.
“But wait, where’s all the money!” I gasped.
I certainly wouldn’t want to be stuck in this dream without the money.
Merle chuckled and pointed just slightly below us at three separate parachutes,
each with a dozen duffel bags attached. “Don’t
worry... be happy!” Then he really got
excited. “Look, Angel, that’s Mount Rasur,” he laughed.
“And there’s the University for Peace over there.”
Over there is exactly where the wind was bringing us.
I swallowed, wondering what it was exactly I’d gotten myself into, and
I began to wish I’d agreed to look for King Arthur first.
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Chapter | Next Chapter
Table
of Contents | Preface | Ch 1
| Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch
4 |
Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch
7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 |Ch
10 | Ch 11 |
Ch 12 | Ch
13 | Ch 14 | Ch 15 | Ch
16 | Ch 17 |
Ch 18 | Ch
19 | Ch 20 | Ch 21 | Ch
22 | Ch 23 |
Ch 24 | Ch
25 | Ch 26 | Ch 27 | Ch
28 | Ch 29
UTOPIAN
DREAMER