Jesus and the Ham and Cheese

Like so many other things, it didn't really exist, but Billy had seen it, with eyes crawling out from under the ass of brain-washed dogma. On laminated benches, the fluorescent nuns kept strict discipline in the black and white cafeteria, uniforms moving in precise lines toward Lysoled tables.

That morning at home, the leaking refrigerator groaned, on knees old prayers were said and Billy's mother wearily handed him a crumpled bag. "Don't forget your lunch." He bit into half, squishing cheap wheat, torn off rinds tossed to the side. Gumming yellow mush behind the teeth, "American", soft and pasteurized, molars grabbing hold of salty ham. A soda, the off brand, "Grape Giggles", sloshing it all down.

Then he saw it. Jesus' face in condensation, almost thrown away. The holy baggy, crumbs circling his sweet face like a halo. Screaming, "Holy Mother of God!" Billy jumped from the bench, snatching the baggy in the air and began to hop around crying, "Jesus, Jesus!!!" Several sisters descended upon him like angry hornets. One of them smacked him into stunned silence. "But" said Billy, "I saw his face right here in my sandwich baggy!" The sisters looked curiously at one another and demanded the baggy. Billy handed it to them proudly. Now they'd see. Now they'd know. But with all his jumping around, air had entered the baggy and the image was gone.

The nuns saw nothing but a wicked prankster, who'd used Jesus of all things, in his sinful ploy to get attention and disrupt the cafeteria. He was sent at once to the Mother Superior to be lectured in furious tones about sin and vanity. He was then sent home to his mortified parents whose shame and humiliation came at him in sickening waves. They took turns punishing him, expunging their own embarrassment by shrieking blame on the boy and each other. Then Billy was sent to his room and told to pray for forgiveness. Head hanging miserably between dragging sneakers he went.

As he sat in the dark crying alone, he saw a shadow appear on the wall. It moved along the unlit surface like a bruised island, blue and wavering. Billy squinted to make sure it was really there. Then he saw it began to take the shape of a strange, distorted face. Black eyes fell away into holes and its mouth, a pinprick, stretched across the width of the face like a slash. Billy was afraid but he didn't cry out.

"Good" came a voice from the shifting mouth. "You're learning."

"Who are you?" asked Billy staring as the face's eyes became more human and looked into his with compassion.

"I have many names, but you may call me, ‘teacher'." said the voice.

"Why?" asked Billy. "What are you going to teach me?"

"Oh, many things. Some small,  some big. Like how to never go through what you went through today."

"Hey! How did you know about that?" asked Billy amazed.

"I know you really saw what you said you saw. But the others didn't believe you, did they, Billy?"

"No" said Billy and he began to cry.

"I'll make you a promise" said the voice. "I'll always believe you. Never lie to me and I'll always help you. All you have to do is call my name."

"Oh, kind of like God?" Billy asked.

"I suppose. Does God come and talk with you when you call for him?"

"Well, no, but we're supposed to believe that he's listening."

"I see" said the voice.

"Why doesn't God ever come?" wondered Billy for the first time.

"Maybe he's too busy. He does have an entire universe to run and besides, you're just a little boy."

"Yeah, but if he really loved me, like they say, then maybe just once he could stop by or just drop me a note or something."

"I don't know, Billy. But I'll make you this promise. I'll always come to help you when you need me."

"Yeah, but God has powers. What have you got?"

The face moved in very closely to Billy's and whispered, "Just wait and see."

Then the shadow moved like a fluid branch; crawling across the wall and ceiling, where it faded away. Billy felt a weird peace come over him. He went to say his prayers and go to bed, but for some reason he just went to bed. He never told anyone about what he'd seen that night. Like so many other things, it didn't really exist.