Tuesday, December 20, 2011

The former First Lady gestured for Jonathon to slide into the booth and she scootched in next to him after he did. Resurrected John Lennon took a seat opposite them, but immediately lost himself scanning through the choices on the small, table-top, juke box. He did love his music, after all. A young man in a well pressed white shirt and black trousers came by to take their order. Jonathon couldn't help but notice how much he favored 60's crooner Bobby Darrin. In fact, his little plastic name pin even said Bobby. Eleanor ordered half a Monte Cristo sandwich and a small Waldorf salad. Lennon got a grilled cheese and bacon. Jonathon giddily asked for a hamburger on a toasted bun topped with lettuce, tomato and raw onion. 

CAFE SOCIETY AMONG THE IMMORTALS

Beyond the monstrous cloud bank was a diner, a quaint, steel and neon, 1940's ersatz railroad car. Of course there was a bit of carefully applied red enamel trim. That's only to be expected. Jonathon could even detect the aroma of sizzling bacon-burgers wafting through the exhaust vent. The inviting oasis hung suspended in a bubble, a very big bubble. I'd say it rivaled one of the mid-sized Jovian moons. And each and every swirling tide and eddy in Saturn's horrifically vivid atmosphere could be seen doing their war dances up against its non-existent membrane.

The three sojourners stopped and floated about a bit, puzzled as to the best way to proceed. After all, the glass and chrome portal was quite far away, at least one hundred and fifty miles. Eyesight must improve in these environs, for the inviting eatery glittered like an emerald cut diamond lying supine in a melted creamsicle sky.

Shall we attempt sublimation? - said Jonathon. I am almost sure I could manage it. And I suspect you two have secret abilities of your own. Besides (sniff, sniff) the fried onion rings seem especially appetizing and I'd like to have some............ And then it hit him.... He no longer perceived things as a life-eater. The smells drifting across the void were pleasant, exceedingly so. He wanted that burger. He craved those batter dipped cibolas. Were the victuals offered up Scripturally pure? Of course they were not. But he felt sure God would forgive this isolated indiscretion .

Eleanor Roosevelt turned, bathing him in a big,  toothy grin. The Resurrected John Lennon tumbled playfully about, as from off in the distance, their chariots approached. Except these had nothing to do with the single axle conveyances of antiquity, resembling nothing so much as the winged monkeys from Oz.. After about eighty six human heartbeats the simian mounts drew near.. In truth, they were approximately two and a half times larger that the hissing, screeching beasts in the movie. But they sported the same, spiffy bellboy suits (from the waist up anyway) and had vast feathered wings matching those of only the most regal, super-sized cygnets. The President's Lady said - Hop on......... And so they did, gingerly perching on the shoulders of the giant macaques. Jonathon took hold of his monkey's collar. The other two, obviously frequent fliers, adopted a more relaxed posture, as they sliced through the vacuum on strong dove-gray wings..... Distances seemed to contract, for soon they were there, landing upon a small asphalt parking lot. Each passenger slid off (best he or she could... these were monkeys after all) and thanked their rides profusely. Mrs. Roosevelt fished down deep in the bodice of her cheerleader's uniform, retrieving three gold banana tokens, which she distributed to the monkeys who were very glad to get them. One did manage a discrete little bite, meant to disclose the genuineness of his stipend, but he was new to this place, so what could you expect.

Jonathon quickly fell behind the other two, as they scampered up four very well pointed brick steps lined with a phalanx of robust, potted geraniums and entered the obviously very lucrative establishment. Oh! Now he wanted pancakes, for they smelled real good too. All the other customers certainly seemed happy, chomping away on mid to late twentieth century comfort food. And the coffee smelled rich and hot. They'd begun to experiment with it in Old Andalucia, so at least he was familiar with that.A neat, young waitress, chewing a big pink wad of bubblegum led them to a booth. As they perused the extensive menu, Jonathon looked up only to discover that the clientele represented almost every eon of human history. Rosie the Riveter winked at him Marcus Aurelius simply stared, while The Inca Atuhualpah, Lord of The Four Quadrants, favored him with an  aristocratic salute (more like a wave, actually), before returning to his lox and onion omelet.......

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