Dabrowski and Ascariot

Dabrowski placed the sequence analyzer on its side and glued the tangent lever. He shifted his starship and then peered into the bridge with his magnifyer. The helm was unmanned. 

 

Commander had been injured in the show's last episode. He lay in the sick bay; his cot askew, in need of repositioning. 

 

Dabrowski felt sorry for the little face as he reached in with a modeling tool.

***

 

Later that evening, Dabrowski took time to relax in his dorm room. He chewed the nails on his tiny hands. Veins bulged on his forehead. Persperation lingered on the smattering of liver-colored moles under his thinning hair. Inspiration gripped him and he dropped to his knees, interlocking his fingers in prayer.

 

"What would you have of me, Commander?"

 

"Restore their faith, Dabrowski,Commander said. "Walk among men. Wander the wastelands and the streets of Los Angeles. Let your heart spill over with compassion and a sense of purpose. Visited homeless encampments. Pass out brightly colored balloons and packages of Top Ramen."

 

"How did I end up like this, father?"

 

"You blew the second coming. I warned you against recruitment centers, but you wouldn't listen. A recruitment officer intercepted you while you beat a panhandler. Does any of this ring a bell, Dabrowski?"

 

"Yes, a little. It was Pontius that stopped me. I didn't believe he recognize me."

 

"I usually don't forget a face, remind me where I know you from?" He said.

 

"Have you ruled Judea so long ago that you forget?" 

 

""What jobs have you held in the past?

"I was the Messiah."

That's when the b***h exploded.

"Never mind all that!" he shouted. "We could offer you exotic deployments. Today's special is Ukraine."

 

I told him he was a man with a meaningless life and no hope of redemption.

 

"And then what?" asked Commander.

 

"Nothing. The jig was up. He knew damn well I hadn't gotten over the Calvary incident. 

He wanted me to shape up, accept the present. 

I kicked him in the crotch. He groaned, saying it was still possible for him to do me a solid. 

I studied the prefect's face and was discouraged. Could I really save man from the final judgment? I would if only they'd let me.

Then I forgave him like any good Christain would. 

 

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing," Commander said.

 

"Very close to that. The fool wanted me to take an aptitude test. He told me he had jobs in electronics, diesel mechanics, security, and bang-up trade schools in Wichita Falls. That's Texas. I told him I was familiar with Texas, a great state, though I opposed capital punishment. He elbowed me as if it were all a joke. Don't worry, big guy. We won't station you in Huntsville." 

 

I threw up my hands, and he laughed at the scars on my palms. He called me a worthless Hebrew. I gave him another stiff kick in the balls.

 

"Pontius Pilot and the nail-driving five," murmured Commander.

 

"Can you believe his moxie? That's when Pontius ignited a fat cigar. Smoke billowed out his nostrils. Anyway, I joined up and a month later, I left for basic training. I studied a thousand faces and read their stories. I was certain I could forestall the final judgment."

 

***

Dabrowski said goodnight to Commander and put away his modeling tools. He went to his dormitory window and looked down on the frozen landscape of the Strategic Air Command base. He listened to noise floating up the stairwell from the recreation room one story below. The noise increased as a dozen pairs of boots started up the dormitory stairs. Dabrowski sat at his desk and smiled at Commander. The door burst open, and a dozen airmen piled in. Iscariot wore a cruel smile.

 

"Does anyone else smell what I'm smelling?" Iscariot said, looking to his followers for approval.

 

"It stinks like a Lazarus in here. Somebody needs a shower!" Simon yelled.

 

"Hooah! Hooah! Hooah!"

 

Iscariot grabbed Dabrowski by the arm and dragged him off his seat.

 

"It's like pulling up a barge anchor!"

 

"Hooah! Hooah! Hooah!"

 

They pushed Dabrowski out the door and hauled him toward the showers.

 

Simon ran ahead and turned the cold on three of the showerheads.

 

"You don't need to do this," said Dabrowski. "Whoever believes in me receives spiritual life that even physical death can never take away."

 

"Hooah! Hooah! Hooah!"

 

Judas shoved Dabrowski into the spray, and he tumbled to the floor.

 

"Who are you?" cried Dabrowski.

 

"My name is Legion," answered the disciple. "For we are many."

 

"Once and forever, the betrayers," replied Dabrowski.