Chapter 100

100
 THE WATERGATE HOTEL, WASHINGTON, D.C.

Jesus and Juan finished the breakfast which had been delivered to the penthouse. "You know General Tower wants to see both of us this morning. I can't tell what's come up, but the look on his face yesterday when he told Me said everything." Jesus mused as he looked at the pictures in USA Today. The language thing didn't really work very well with the written word.

"What do You mean, 'said everything'?" Juan said looking for his swim fins.

"I mean he was clearly not looking forward to the meeting. I think it will be some kind of bad news." Jesus answered.

"General Tower seems to be a man who constantly carries the burden of sorrow. On the other hand, that is pretty much the task of a general, to bring sorrow. I think we should go back to the country. I want to do that again." Juan was able to meet any situation with the same approach. He immediately stepped into the present, the here and now. It was a great part of his personality, and it was worth a great deal when things in the future grew difficult.

The, by now, completely recognizable double knock of the General was still in progress as Juan opened the door to the penthouse. Jesus and Juan were both convinced that the General entered every room in the same manner, as if he were trying to catch the occupants doing something he didn't approve. As always, he cleared his throat and tossed a tablet with notes on the table. Clearing his throat, he had explained to Jesus, was a 'general thing'. It was his way of making sure everyone was ready to listen to him.

"Jesus, and Juan, too, this concerns both of you. Everything I'm about to say is a long ways from being within the protocol of the treatment you rate, but I am hoping that we can clear up some things that could turn into real trouble." General Tower began. "This homosexual thing that Stratton is trying to start is an example of what we're talking about here."

After the translating for Juan, Jesus responded innocently, "We thought that was pretty well being forgotten by now. Is Buck back at it? We both thought he'd be busy with the Sin Contest by this time."

"Buck Stratton is only one aspect of the problem I'm talking about. Frankly, my having this conversation with You at all is far beyond the limits of my normal duty. It's usually the case with foreign dignitaries that the State Department assigns what is called a 'keeper' to them, someone who can help steer them through the subtleties of being in the U.S. In Your case, the President assigned a military command, mainly with the task of keeping You safe, if You understand what I mean." General Tower, a man who assumed he could father an infant into adulthood in twenty minutes, was actually back pedaling. The man's monumental self-confidence seemed to have hit a bump in the road. "So, in a very respectful way, I think its time that we have a father to son talk."

"Remembering Who I am, filling the shoes of My Father might be a pretty tall order, General." Jesus smiled.

"You know that's not what I mean. Let's consider it more a friendly chat with an uncle. Okay?" General Tower was flustered. Juan found it amusing as Jesus translated rapidly. "Here's my point. Sir,"

Jesus interrupted what he started to say. "General Tower, my Name is Jesus Robeles. It isn't really Robeles, but its definitely Jesus. I am thirty years your junior. I should call you 'sir', not the converse. Perhaps you will wish to call me 'sir' in the presence of others, but when we speak to each other alone, I would greatly prefer that you call me 'Jesus'. It is My Name. When you call Me 'Jesus', I will answer. It would please Me very much."

"Very well, ah, Jesus. Yesterday morning You told Secret Service agent Barnes that security measures deployed around Your residence were 'rat shit' suggesting that You disapproved of them. You informed Colonel Nichols that as far as You were concerned, Your telephone service was 'guts up' suggesting that the system was inoperative, which it wasn't. On the way to the press conference You told Your limousine driver that traffic was a 'cluster fuck' meaning that the roads were busy.

"These are only examples of some of the new words You have learned from Your young Marine friends. These kinds of expressions are considered inappropriate for polite members of the community. If a young child were to utter any of these phrases, his mother would punish him by washing his mouth with soap and probably some other things. When the boy could speak again, she would ask him to name the person who had been a bad influence on him, leading him to say these things. The members of Buck Stratton's congregation consider saying these words to be a sin. When You say these things, people will think You are a bad influence. That development would not go along with Your overall goal in being here.

"I can't tell You not to say these things, but I can advise You that such language will set back Your desire to have people listen to Your message comfortably. Should You desire to stop using this type of language, I have taken the liberty of having staff in operations prepare a list in Portuguese of words and phrases to avoid."

Jesus' joke about the father to son talk was falling flat. General Tower had clearly taken the high ground. The General continued. "Now I know You're not a homosexual, but people here look upon swimming naked with Juan as being good evidence that You are. There is no amount of security I can offer to You that will completely keep them from prying in to see that sort of thing. Your freedom is so limited now because everyone and his brother is trying to dig up dirt on You."

General Tower continued, "Then there is this business of Hustler magazine. I guess I am not surprised that You and Juan would like to look at that, but it's in the same category as the swear words. It throws a mixed signal to anyone who finds out about it. On the one hand You're supposed to be a pretty Holy Guy -- and I realize that only means Holy in the minds and ideas of people who aren't too sure what that means -- and on the other hand You're sitting here with a girlie magazine. I suppose that most people think that looking at a girlie magazine is sinful. I'm sure my mother wouldn't know what to do with that news. She just wouldn't know how to handle it at all."

Jesus waited to answer until He was certain that the General had finished. "Thank you very much for your willingness to be helpful, General. I have to say that My public relations accomplishments to date have been less than stellar. I will cease using the words and phrases on the list at once. I was, frankly, unaware that they were in bad taste. When I spoke them in Portuguese, they seemed innocent enough.

"As for swimming together, Juan and I have been swimming together naked since I was about two years old. I think that I am willing to agree to many things so as not to offend the people of the United States, but this one thing, I believe I shall simply continue. I have accommodated many American customs, some of which even I find either very funny or outrightly sinister. The Americans can accommodate Me now and again. It might benefit them spiritually if they don't always get to have everything their way."

"As to our copy of Hustler magazine, perhaps you can understand this better if you consider living your life as I have lived Mine. Had you ever kissed a girl, General, by the time you were twenty three? Had you ever seen a woman's body? And more, if you hadn't ever kissed one or seen such a body, tell me that your wouldn't take an opportunity -- your first as it was our first -- to see something like that?"

"Anyway, we pitched that magazine. Juan and I agreed that all those women looked too hungry. Marine women are better fed and healthier. More fun, too. Besides, who needs a magazine when He has the real thing? Now that Nicole and Brenda have entered our lives, we are quite satisfied without magazines." Jesus turned to Juan, asking if he had anything to add.

Beatrice dutifully piped up, "NICOLE AND BRENDA ARE THE BEST! NICOLE AND BRENDA ARE THE BEST!"

"I only want to tell him 'thank you' for taking the time and extra effort to tell us about these things before they progress into something more serious. Also tell him that, aside from what Jesus said, his talk seemed quite fatherly to me." Juan smiled at the General as Jesus translated.

"Since we are on the subject, I have some difficult news for You. News about the Marines who visited You the other evening. PFC Stentson and Corporal Vasquez have been transferred to the Algerian Peacekeeping Force. Sergeant Bennet has been stationed in Indonesia at the military attache's office. Corporals Stone and Ramsey are now stationed in South Africa and Sergeant Teal has become an administrative assistant in Kodiak, Alaska. I inquired personally about all six of these Marines. They are all fine and hard at work at their new assignments." General Tower relayed this information more as an announcement than as conversation. He braced himself for Jesus' response.

Jesus translated everything into Portuguese for Juan. The news hit the Brazilian like a cold fish in the face. Jesus turned to General Tower. He eyes blazed with an unearthly fire. General Tower could feel the presence of Jesus within him. It felt as if it were a great, strong hand toying with his life. The General rethought his latest intelligence about the helicopter pilot. The General did not like this feeling. He also couldn't talk or move. It was clearly time to listen.

"The Marine Corps should not have done that dirty little business, General. You are fortunate that I know you had nothing to do with it. It will be your task to undo it and quickly. I have no interest in pulling rank on you because you have been a good friend to Us. You have been fair and kind to us while we have been here, very much like the father we were joking about a moment ago. But that all being as it is, don't think I won't pull rank, either earthly rank or heavenly rank, on whomever wrote those orders." Jesus' voice was cold and casual even though it had assumed a tone of terrifying determination.

"Jesus, those orders did not originate with me. They also did not originate with my boss, General Veemer, Commandant of the Marine Corps. They originated higher than him, maybe the Joint Chiefs or even the President. Veemer wouldn't have done it. The orders had to come from over his head." Tower revealed his anger at the usurpation of the chain of command. "Those people, and a lot more, all outrank me. That's the way the Marines work. I can't help You. I'm a soldier. I don't have to agree with things like this, but I have to follow orders." General Tower had now successfully hidden in the last and final cover. Those people, and a lot more, all outrank me. That's the way the Marines work. I can't help You. I'm a soldier. I don't have to agree with things like this, but I have to follow orders." General Tower had now successfully hidden in the last and final cover for any soldier -- orders.

"Very well, General. If you can't solve My problem, you'll aid and abet a solution. Make arrangements, urgent arrangements, for Me to speak to President Haskill. Tell him if he won't talk to Me on the phone, that I plan to visit Him in person. Remind him that I can visit in foreign capitols or on Air Force One at My leisure." Jesus was deadly serious as He continued. "And you can tell Me what military commission is suitable for those six friends of Mine that would allow them to remain near Me without being transferred to the four corners of the world. I have been a very docile guest so far, but have faith, I can turn a new page to change all that in a substantial way if necessary."

"I suppose they could staff a military affairs office, that is they might be clerks to a military advisor. But that post would require them to be under an officer -- they are all low ranking Marines. As a Head of State You rate a military affairs office. I can't imagine what You would do with one, but it certainly wouldn't be the only unit in the U. S. military without a mission." Tower was clutching at straws.

"What does a military mission do? I mean, what would I need as a, what did you call it, virtual Head of State which would require a military mission?" Jesus continued. His voice had not become less frightening to the General. It was beginning to ring out as if it were an excerpt from "The Ten Commandments."

 
"Well, individuals who are Heads of State are presumed to have a nation of origin, someplace where they are the boss. That country would have armed forces just as this one does. If some kind of snag develops between the U.S. and that country of origin, the Head of State will approach the problem on a diplomatic level. His military mission would provide lines of communication between the Head of State here, his armed forces and the U.S. armed forces. It is a very common arrangement that is used to prevent mistakes in military affairs." General Tower had regained his composure and was, once again, trying for 'father' status.' "Once such a commission is established, You would have substantial influence over its organization and duties. Now, if You will excuse me, I'll place that call to the White House."

The afternoon dragged on. Jesus and Juan had lunch and attempted to concentrate on a soccer game on television. The announcer for the game spoke Spanish which, to them, was no more understandable than English, but the action was clear enough.

"Juan, it's three thirty, I would have thought that President Haskill would have called Me by now. I wonder what that little worm is up to." Jesus paced across the vast living room again -- for the tenth time.

Beatrice agreed with the evaluation, "LITTLE WORM! LITTLE WORM!"

Juan wasn't really paying much attention to the game either. "I'm sure he has General Tower's message by now. I don't think he's going to do anything. I think he's going to wait You out. It's just like playing hide and seek while we were children on the island. Whenever I couldn't find You, I'd just go sit somewhere and wait until You were tired of hiding. Haskill thinks You will get tired of this and change Your mind."

Actually, President Haskill was cloistered in an anteroom in the private section of the great white building on Pennsylvania Avenue. Tom Hanneman, his political advisor, counseled the President to hold his position. "You're showing Him the stick right now Mr. President. I think you need to remain firm while acting uninterested. Let your actions tell Him that this is nothing to you."

"The National Security Council doesn't see it that way. Mr. President, you've got some kind a lid on this right now because, if for no other reason, He's is still asking. No one knows the limits on Jesus' power. I mean, everyone has heard the story about the dead Brazilian, and I for one believe every word that came out of Tower's mouth on that. General Tower is many things, but he is not easily fooled, and he damned sure wouldn't mislead the Commander in Chief." Admiral Peale commented.

"State wanted those kids out of there. For God's sake Jesus was about to fall in love with a Marine noncom! The State Department also wanted to isolate the two of them from the street influence, from the culture influence. Whatever Jesus is, it's better to keep Him in an Ivory Tower than try to deal with Him after He gets street smart. So far He's been a kind of intellectual type. Everything, news conferences and the rest has all been pretty academic. The situation can change drastically if He starts to be influenced by a bunch of rowdy kids." Admiral Peale continued, "The State Department saw this as a good solution, a containment, and General Veemer disagreed. The Navy Joint Chief went over his head on your orders. Now Jesus is looking to the President. He knows you are the only one with enough clout to overrule the Commandant of the Marine Corps, the Navy Chief of Staff and the State Department at the same time. But you must remember that, as President, there is no possibility that anyone went over your head. You should assume He knows that."

A worried Tom Hanneman stepped into the conversation. "I still agree with the original proposal. If you are ever going to get Jesus Robeles to participate in your reelection, you will have to use the carrot and stick. Before He met this Marine there was nothing you could take away from Him. Now that's changed. The only problem left is who will carry the message to Jesus? Who will tell Him that Teal could be transferred back here if He would just agree to say something to help you get elected. That is simple enough. What the hell is He going to do? Of course, He'll agree once He knows what the stakes are."

Hanneman continued. "One way or the other, we need to act. We need to go tell Him what He's got to do. The situation here is getting marginal. At eleven o'clock this morning, White House Secret Service went on intruder alert status. That will already be news by dinner time. By tomorrow morning, someone will have leaked that it was in response to Jesus' 'threat' to come see you. Think election, Sir! This is not the image that pulls in votes in Iowa!"

Admiral Peale could see that President Haskill was having his usual reaction to the word 'election'. A look of hopeless panic seemed to flood the President's face. The Admiral had long ago accepted the role of comforting or encouraging President Haskill. Peale was the President's main liaison for the use of military force, always a development which paralyzed Haskill. Like all Admirals through all time, Peale thought in terms of missiles and bullets. Like most Presidents through all time, Robert Haskill thought almost exclusively in terms of polls, image and votes.

Admiral Peale needed to prop up the nation's leader, even if in contradiction to the President's spin doctor, Hanneman, who was always at his elbow. "You know that Stratton will have a field day with this stuff. 'President overrides State Department and Marine Commandant in order for young Marines to be permanently stationed with anti-Christ.' He'll tell 'em that you have turned over the military to Jesus. I don't think any of us wants to simmer in that pot!"

"Jesus, Hanneman, what do I do now?" The President almost slumped forward on the desk.

"You might consider acting honorably." the voice seemed to come from no where. Admiral Peale hit the scramble stud on his wristwatch and moved toward the President in an effort to shield him with his body. Hanneman stood up, unable to speak.

What could only be described as a pillar of light was growing brighter across the table from the three men. In a moment Jesus had joined the little conference. At the same time a platoon of Secret Service agents was trying to get the door open. Their futile efforts made on a muffled and distant sound from the inside of the room.

Amazingly, President Haskill called to them in a loud clear voice. "This is the President. Everything is under control in here. Please stop trying to open the door. Just stand by outside for a little while."

Admiral Peale had developed an extremely military look on his face. "How did You get in here? This is a national security conference."

Jesus was quite calm but also quite forthright. "Admiral, I only decided to attend because, unlike most of your national security conferences, this particular one interests Me. Surely, no one will mind if I sit down."

No one minded at all.

"Now to the matter of My friends. I believe you all know the names, rank and serial numbers of the six people I mean. I know that no one will ever accept responsibility for the transfer of these Marines all over the world. General Tower said General Veemer didn't do it. General Veemer got steamrolled by a pack of your heavies. They probably came from the National Security Council or the Joint Chiefs. I don't care who did what. I would be very grateful, and let Me emphasize that again, very grateful, Mr. President, if you might straighten this out."

Jesus folded His hands on the table in a classic posture of prayer. "I am, ah, requesting that you immediately assign a military affairs office to Me. I would like it to be close at hand, perhaps on the floor below My quarters in the Watergate. I am completely convinced that the quantity and importance of paperwork through this office will require an amount of manpower sufficient to keep all of My affairs current. Their mission, of course, will be to prevent any unfortunate military errors between your armed forces and My own. I can only presume that leaders such as yourselves have read historical accounts of such misfortunes in the Old Testament of the Bible."

After hesitating for a moment to allow His words to have an effect, He continued, "I believe that six enlisted Marines under the supervision of a junior grade officer will be enough for this task. I, of course, would never think of making My own staff selections. I am confident that General Veemer will be able to bring his rather extensive military experience to bear on the solution of that problem."

Now He surveyed the eyes of the three men almost cowering in the dark little conference room. Three sets of eyes, wide and trembling, stared back at Him. Jesus smiled. "Absent your objections, I assume this is an acceptable solution. Do you all agree?"

Hanneman finally found the gumption to speak. "Are You, I mean, is This a hologram of some sort?"

Jesus reached across the table, placing His hand, in turn, on the hand of each of the three men. "If it is a hologram, it's really first class, huh?"

Only Admiral Peale reacted to the touch. He jumped back from his previous position of protecting the President. That position, rather than being the classical Secret Service lunge, had turned out to appear more like a full Admiral sitting on the lap of the younger and smaller President in hopes of hearing a bedtime story.

"No it's not a hologram! I said I would visit and I do what I say. I'm visiting! So, do we have a deal or not?" Jesus demanded from the group.

President Haskill looked at Tom Hanneman. The political advisor was clearly rolling through alternatives in his mind, searching for any edge or advantage that could be extracted from this situation. He was also reviewing, before the fact, what kind of press each alternative might generate.

"Tom, just do what's right. It's not very nice for a bunch of generals to be mean to enlisted personnel when they haven't done anything wrong. Especially when those people can't resist them. What happened to those young people is a result of their lives touching Mine. I am determined that My presence here will not directly bring harm to the people I meet. This is a very important idea. I want to emphasize this idea. I will take a Personal Interest in affairs which conflict with My commitment to causing no harm. Admiral, you are a man who can understand escalation. I want very much not to have to make another appearance to discuss escalation with you. Are we all on-line with this new plan?" Jesus was fairly certain that everyone was on-line. Haskill, Hanneman and Peale were also fairly certain that they were on-line.

"You mentioned a junior grade officer to head up the affairs office. Did You have someone specific in mind for this job? I'm thinking that it should be a Marine, since the staff will all be Marines. Perhaps a major or a lieutenant colonel?" Admiral Peale inquired across the table.

"It will be a second lieutenant, Admiral. One who will be selected by the staff of the affairs office. I will provide you with a name after the enlisted personnel have established the office."

"I want to thank all of you for your help in resolving this matter. I'm leaving now to return to the hotel, but I would like to give you all something you need as a token of my appreciation." Jesus was growing brighter and brighter. His features and soon His entire body were turned into the same bright light. Then He was gone.

The air in the stuffy little room was suddenly fresh and invigorating. Each of the three men looked at one another. Then it started. At first, just a giggle, then laughter. The Secret Service agents in the hallway could hear it roaring forth. Teary eyed, knee slapping, barely able to catch your breath in between raucous laughter. It went on for half an hour. The White House doctor was called but stood by unneeded.