The Blue Bottle (Part 13)
Rosie has traveled on the lowest of beasts, the donkey, to the holiest of places, and wakes to the smell of breakfast cooking downstairs.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt. 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11Pt 12
When Rosie woke the next morning, the smell of breakfast excited her because it meant Mark was up and still at home.
She wrapped in her robe and went down to join him.
“Frank!”
“Hi, Rosie, breakfast is ready.”
“But, I thought you were….”
“Mark?”
“Yes!”
“He’s still sleeping,” Frank says.
“Here, take a seat. This one, I believe,” and Frank pulls a chair out from the table.
Rosie comes around and takes her seat at the breakfast table.
“I thought you couldn’t surprise me anymore, but this, in my home, cooking breakfast… well, I wasn’t expecting this.”
“I hope it’s not too much of a shock?”
“No… not at all, Frank. Will Mark wake up?”
“Not until I’ve left, Rosie. He’s fine, he’s having a nice dream. There, I hope that’s how you like your eggs.”
“It looks fabulous, Frank. Thank you,” and she pulls a napkin over her lap. “There’s a reason you are here, and it isn’t to have breakfast, is it Frank?”
“It is so that we may talk. I know that I am near the Blue Bottle… and where the Blue Bottle is Lorenzo is sure to be.”
“Lorenzo, Frank, in another life was Barabbas, out of the Bible, and the Rabbi called you, Judas, again out of the Bible. Is all this true?”
Frank reaches across the table and rests his hand on Rosie’s.
“Yes, Rosie. We rose from death in the same way the Rabbi, Jesus, rose but we never entered the Rabbi’s house. Nor will we. The Rabbi was my friend and I betrayed him. Giving him away to the authorities and who’s actions led to Barabbas being released when Pontius Pilate asked the citizens of Jerusalem who should go free, Jesus, a self-crowned king, having done no harm, or Barabbas, murderer and activist?”
“I don’t understand, Frank….”
“Yes, Rosie, you do understand. You’re afraid, that’s all, but there’s no reason. When I rose, Jesus forgave me my sins, and offered me a chance to do good in the world for the rest of eternity. It is in that cause, I have been many people, Rosie. It is for this reason; I have come to find you.”
“Many? Who, would I know them? And me, who, what possible reason can there be?”
Frank leans back in his chair, contemplating. Then he says, “tell me when to stop, okay. Let’s see, well, the Prophet Muhammad….”
“Who?”
“Never mind, Rosie, I’ll mention those better known to you. Paul the Apostle, Leonardo da Vinci, Aristotle, Shakespeare, Isaac Newton, Buddha, John Lennon…”
“Stop… stop… you were John Lennon?” Rosie asks.
“Yes, and sometimes I was George, it helped with the creativity.”
“Just hold on a moment, George Harrison? So, you were the inspiration behind My Sweet Lord?”
“Yes, and the Yellow Submarine.”
“Shut up, Frank. The Yellow Submarine? Yes, I’ll admit it was after we had all had a drink or two.”
“Anyone else?”
“Marcus Mumford, we had a bit of a knees up, and I helped Marcus with the song, I Will Wait. And I can add Leonard Cohen, if you want.”
“No… stop…. my head is spinning, I’ve heard enough.”
“I’m doing my best to bring joy into the world, Rosie. Peace and understanding wherever possible but writing songs, well it’s so much easier.”
“And while you’re doing all this, what is Lorenzo doing? Why is it you want to stop him from having The Blue Bottle.”
“That’s an easy question, do you want more tea? So, I told you that Lorenzo is no hope.”
“Please,” Rosie says, pushing her teacup toward him, “I don’t understand, what does it mean, no hope?”
“There’s only one man who understands Lorenzo…” Frank says, pouring the teapot from a rose-patterned teapot.
“That’s Raven…right?”
“Right.”
“And Raven is…?” Rosie asks, feeling a small triumph.
“Raven showed to me the sweetness in strength. Lorenzo, on the other hand, caught me on the backside of hell and that is when Raven taught me the secret of the open road, the open road are the choices we make, Rosie. And it was Raven who told me that escape wasn’t easy and if I were to manage it, I’d have to have ownership and drink from the Blue Bottle.”
Rosie rests her teacup back in the saucer. “And the Blue Bottle, it is filled with water from the Sea of Galilee?”
“Yes, Rosie.”
“Then let me ask this, what is Raven’s relationship with Lorenzo?”
“Imagine it as them playing a game in time. The loser will take a fit of sleep through eternity., never able to travel.”
“Sounds serious. Sleep for eternity, that’s dead, right. But aren’t you all dead anyway.”
“Dead is a state of mind. We have risen, Rosie, a chance to exist in the universe making up for our sins. But Lorenzo merely pulled his eyeshades low, tore up the Bible, and preferred the juices of evil.”
Rosie thinks momentarily. “But wait, you’re all travelers, correct? So, then, who has Lorenzo been throughout all this time?”
Frank stood up from the table, donned his great overcoat, and said gently, “Mark will be rising soon, Rosie.”
“Please, Frank, tell me, who is Lorenzo? Why should we be so afraid of him?”
“Lorenzo is Ivan the Terrible, Atilla the Hun, Maximillien Robespierre, Genghis Khan, Osama Bin Laden, Pol Pot, Mussolini, Hitler…”
“Okay, okay, that’s bad. So, tell me this, who is Lorenzo today, right now, in my world?”
“Lorenzo is everyone who represents antisemitism, Rosie, bigotry, idealists, politicians who believes they are genius’s and that their way is the only way and believe that they will wake up in the morning with a million more followers. Such people, Rosie, they are Lorenzo.”
Pt 14 soon.
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