Writing

by
Suzie Plakson (as told to her by one Larry Levy of Queens, New York)

So, I first saw Him coming up out of the subway at 79th and Broadway. I saw this halo over his head, and I thought, that’s got to be Jesus. Nobody else wears a hat like that.

So, I don’t know why, but I go right up to Him. Like we were supposed to meet up or something. Like I’d been waiting for Him. I ask Him where’s He going. He says He’s heading to Zabars, He’s got a real craving for a bagel and lox. Tells me that’s His idea of heaven on earth. Then He laughs. He has the greatest laugh you ever heard, I swear to God. Kind of makes your heart explode in your chest, like some kind of great, wonderful music or something.

Anywho, there we are, walking up Broadway — Jesus and me, go figure, right, but it just  felt so normal — and I ask him did He just get into town, and He says yeah, and the split second he got into Manhattan, all He could think about was getting a Zabars onion bagel with lox and a schmear.

Then He says, “As you know, Larry, being human can be very distracting.”

All of a sudden, He looks like he was worried that once He gets the bagel and lox, He’d get side-tracked and forget to do something.

Then He says, “But a Zabar’s bagel and lox, Larry…  Well, I mean, it’s not the only reason I’ve come back. Obviously.”

“Yeah, right,” I say, “obviously.”

Like I knew. What a jerk. What can I say, I was nervous. But He just smiled at me, so sweet, like nothing I could say was gonna be too stupid for Him to deal with.

So, we’re getting him the bagel and lox, and there He is, right — I mean, there’s Jesus Freaking Christ going through the line and telling the guys what He wants and pulling some money out of His robe, and nobody knows it’s Him!

And I whisper, “So, Jesus, do you have, like — a cloaking device around you? Like in Star Trek? ‘Cause nobody knows it’s you, what’s that about?”

So, He smiles and He laughs and He goes,“I guess that’s just New Yorkers for you.”

As soon as we get out on the street, He rips into that lox and bagel. Man, you never saw somebody enjoy anything so much. It was like watching a little kid with ice cream after they’ve begged for it for a week, only better.

So, He tells me, in between bites, that all the planets and God and Him and everybody spirit-like, you know, that everybody on His side of things was just looking at us with their heads in their hands and they finally decided that it really is time for the Second Coming, no screwing around anymore.

So, you know, I’m like, “Oh, my God! This is the actual Second Coming? Shouldn’t we tell somebody?”

“Well, Larry,” he says, and he smiles real big. “I’m telling you.”

So then, He tells me he’s come back to fix everything. Well, I’m a little freaked out. It’s freakin’ big, insane, crazy world. I don’t have to tell you, there’s a lot to fix! And I go, “Uh… I don’t mean to be disrepectful, but… how ya gonna do that?”

Then, I swear to God, it’s hysterical. He sounds exactly like Mr. Rogers, and He goes, “Can you say ‘miracle,’ Larry?”

And I go, “Jesus Christ! I mean — You!” And we both totally crack up at that, and I go, “That was terrific! You sound exactly like Mr. Rogers, that’s hysterical!”

I was always seeing pictures of him dying on the cross, so I guess until I met Him, I never figured Him for funny.

So, anyway, I offer to bring him home to Queens for supper. I still live at home with my mother, like you probably heard made fun of a lot. Well, alright, if you didn’t hear, real quick: I was one hell of a fast bike messenger, let me tell you, then I got dragged by a truck, and I’ve never been the same. I’m forty-seven, I get disability, I’m a loser, okay — enough.

Anyway, what was I going to say… Oh, I know, yeah — weird that such a big famous perfect guy like Jesus would want to hang out with the likes of me, right? But for whatever reason, He didn’t seem to mind.

So, I call home. I figure Ma would want a heads up that Jesus Christ was coming over.

I go, “Ma… You’ll never guess who I ran into at 79th and Broadway.” So, I tell her. First thing she says is,“Oh, my God, Larry — did you tell Him we’re Jewish?”

I go, “Jesus Christ, Ma! Oh . . . ” Thank God He was looking in a bookstore window, and not listening to me at all. So, I say real quiet, “He is a Jew, Ma, remember? Just don’t worry about it!”

“What do you mean, don’t worry about it? You know how many years they’ve been saying the Jews killed Jesus, the Jews killed Jesus! What if he believed the rumors? What if he’s angry? It could be very awkward!”

“Ma, I’m bringing Jesus Christ home for dinner. Can we not make a big production out of this, please!”

I hung up on her before she could say anything else that would drive me too crazy. ‘Cause I gotta tell you, that afternoon, I was in the best mood in my whole entire life, just by walking with Him while he was eating His bagel and cream cheese and lox and smiling at people.  It’s like, I felt — well, like… Okay, it was really stinking hot, you know? Like the sweat’s rolling down the side of your head, you feel like you’re wearing cling wrap, you can smell all the garbage on every block, and everybody has b.o., like, three times worse than usual? But, I swear to God, from the second I saw Him on 79th St., I felt like there was a nice cool breeze everywhere, and the air smelled really good, like real actual honest- to-God fresh air. It was something, boy.

So, we head for Queens. I ask Him couldn’t we fly or something, ‘cause the subway was gonna be murder at rush hour, but He smiles and says He’s all excited ‘cause not only could He get to see even more people, but He always liked trains.

Which confused the hell out of me. ‘Cause I thought this was first time He’d been back after the whole three-day-rising-from-the-dead thing you hear about. He started explaining something about being inside everyone all the time, and sometimes He comes back, like, more or bigger or something in some people, but they just keep getting killed and it doesn’t seem to stick and all the powers in the universe are getting totally frustrated already. I’m not saying I really got what He was talking about, but I’m just, you know, some guy.

Anywho, later, when step off the elevator, Mrs. Clomsky from across the hall comes out and I introduce Him as Jesus Christ. So, she he looks Him up and down like He’s a pimp or something, and she says,“Did your parents name you that?”

And He tries not to laugh and He says, “Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid they did.”

“Hmph, some people shouldn’t be allowed to have children,” she says, and walks off to the incinerator, all disgusted.

And I’m just as I’m about to go and straighten her out but good, Jesus stops me and He goes, “Larry, see, I’ve only revealed myself to you so far. So we can’t blame Mrs. Clomsky for being a little judgmental.”

And suddenly, for whatever reason, I get real panicky, and I go, “But wait Jesus — why me?”
And he says, real calm, “Well, why not you?”  And I say, “Because I mean, I’m just, you know, I’m nobody.”

“Nobody’s nobody, Larry,” He says. “And that’s the honest truth. And besides, you’re me and I’m you.”

I didn’t get it but it felt real nice to hear, so I go, “Okay. Thanks, man. I don’t get it, but I’m real honored.”

“So am I, Larry,” he says, “So am I.”  And I know you won’t believe me, but I swear to God He meant it.

So, anyway, I said, “Now, I just want to warn you, my mother’s all tripping on the whole Jewish thing and she’s –”

Too late. Ma heard already my voice and the door opens. I gotta say, I wished I, like, had one of those instamatic camera in my head that would spit out pictures, remember? I mean, my mother’s face when she laid eyes on Him, oh, my God – I’ll never forget it.

And so we go into the hallway and we’re all smashed together, and she’s staring and staring at Him — especially the halo, like she was wondering if it would look good on her.

So I go, “Jesus Christ — Shirley Levy. Ma — Jesus Christ, live and in person.”

“Why, hello, Mr. Christ, welcome, come on in, it’s such a real pleasure to have you in my home.”

And of course, Jesus is such gent. “Why, thank you, Mrs. Levy,” he says, like she’s a — I don’t know, a governor’s wife or something.

She says,“Oh, please, call me Shirley.”

And he says,“Only if you call me Jesus.”

And then they both laugh. And my mother eyes are still, like, glued to the halo. I have to say it’s very, very beautiful up close, you know, not too bright, but like, very golden and sparkly. It was then, anyway.

Ma looked like she was four years old. And then she says, “I don’t mean to make you self-conscious, Mr. Christ, but your halo is just gorgeous.”

“Jesus, Ma! Will you stop calling Him Mr. Christ already!”

“Oh, for Christ sake, Larry — oh! Will you look what you just made me say! Oh, God, I’m nervous, Larry, leave me alone!”

I thought Jesus looked a little uncomfortable for a second. I guess he and his parents never got on each others nerves.

So, anywho, pretty quick, we go sit down, and we eat. Like normal people. And we’re talking about the world, which, of course, my mother is a complete authority on, and Jesus is listening to her like she’s, I don’t know – Henry Kissinger or somebody.

Then my mother puts her fork down and she says, “You know, Jesus, I feel I have to say this –”

“Ma, don’t bother him –”

But of course she says, “We’re Jewish, maybe you guessed.”

“Yes, I actually — did guess that,” he says, real sweet, and he winks at me.

And she goes, “And well, as you probably also know, we don’t believe in you. I hope you don’t take offense.”

I go, “Ma! The man’s a guest!”

Jesus just puts His arm around her and kisses her on the cheek and laughs His head off. And my mother leans into Him and tries to slip it in, real quick, like maybe He won’t notice, “And we didn’t kill you, my hand to God. I don’t know who did exactly, but it wasn’t us –”

Well, He keeps laughing and it’s like, He’s now laughing so hard He’s crying and I’m thinking He’s gonna pull a muscle. And my mother starts laughing like that, too, and then I do, too, and then it didn’t matter what my mother had said, or what anybody believed or didn’t believe, ‘cause it was like all the laughing just sort of – made everything all right. And we were just like a bunch of old pals who could tell each other anything.

And then, as we finally catch our breaths and settle down, He starts talking and talking and getting more and more upset, about how He feels so awful all the time at how He’s been shoved down so many people’s throats by people who really don’t know what He meant at all, and that so many horrible, rotten, really terrible things have been done to so many people in His name, and still are being done, and how if He thinks about it too much He’ll cry a whole ocean of tears.

So we all get real quiet. And He sort of stares off and sighs and says, “Wow. There certainly is an awful lot to straighten out, isn’t there. It all looks so clear and simple from the other side of the veil. Hm.”

And then He just turns His fork over and over and over, and looks worried. And I could see that he was putting a whole lot a pressure on himself to fix everything fast and forever. And my mother squeezes His arm and says,

“Aw, don’t you worry, sweetheart, you’re gonna do just great — you’ll see. Now, do you boys want some Rocky Road or some Chocolate Chocolate Chip? I just got some special.”

Right then my mother looked like she did twenty years ago, when Joey was alive. She was pretty and thin then, and sort of light on her feet.

Anywho, we go into the living room with our ice cream and my mother’s pouring coffee and we’re laughing and Jesus is telling jokes and doing impressions (He does a killer Sean Connery). Man, let me just tell you, Jesus is one hysterically funny guy. Who knew, right?

Then He gets up to leave, and I’m, like, “Whoa, wait a minute, where are you gonna sleep?”

And my mother’s like, “Jesus, you are not leaving this house tonight! You will sleep in Larry’s bed, and Larry will sleep on the –”

And I go, “Ma, He’s an adult, will you wait a minute? Maybe He’s got plans!”

And Jesus is laughing and He hugs us and He tells us that He really doesn’t need any sleep, and what He really needs to do is walk around and mingle. And he tells Ma she really shouldn’t worry about Him, He’ll be fine. So, of course, she proceeds to have a conniption fit.

“Mingle?! Are you crazy? In this neighborhood you’re gonna mingle?” My mother was completely yelling at Jesus Christ Himself, it was so embarrassing. “He wants to mingle — He’ll be fine! I’m sure that’s what you told your mother last time, and look what happened!”

I think she was so crazy worried ‘cause of what happened to Joey, if you want to know the truth. But suddenly, Jesus got real quiet, like He remembered something awful, which I guess He did. And then He said,“You know what, Shirley, when you’re right, you’re right. But Larry sleeps in his bed, and I stay out here –”

“No, you are a guest and –”

I go, “Ma, please!”

“I’m telling you, Shirley, I don’t need sleep, even though I’m in density.”

“What do you mean? What does he mean?”

And Jesus just takes her hand and he says, “I just need some room to walk around and think in, if that’s okay.”

“Alright, whatever you want, darling. But don’t be walking up and down all night and driving yourself crazy.”

Only my mother would tell Jesus Christ what to do with his nights.

~~~

The next morning, I come in and the two of them are having coffee. I think Ma must’ve just been telling Him about Joey, ‘cause I’m pretty sure Jesus was wiping tears off her face. Then they turned and saw me. And then, the funniest thing, my mother got up and kissed me good morning for the first time since I was probably seven. We were both a little embarrassed, but it was nice. Jesus pretended not to notice.

So, I’m eating, and Jesus is telling me He watched TV all night and got some ideas, and then He sat out on the fire escape and listened to people’s thoughts and prayers and dreams. He says He thinks the only way to get into their hearts really deep and really fast nowadays is to, you know, get in through show business. He said he needs to get everybody’s attention pronto, so He figures that’s the way. So He tells me He thinks we should go get him an agent, right after breakfast.

I hated to break it to him, but I go, “Jesus, I gotta tell you, I know plenty of people tryin’ to get into show business. It’s impossible to get an agent nowadays, unless you know somebody.”

And Jesus just smiles and says, “Would you mind very much putting on a suit, Larry?”

And I’m like, “Are you kidding? For you, anything.” He’s, like, “Thank you, Larry. I really appreciate it.” What a mensch, huh?

~~~

So, the second we walk into the lobby of this fancy shmancy agency (I forget the name — you know, the one with all the letters), Jesus reveals Himself right off. And rightaway the receptionist, was like, on her knees, crossing herself and crying and telling him all the people she ever slept with and kissing His robe and apologizing and stuff. It was awful. I felt so bad for her.

Well, Jesus gets her up off her knees and He told her to treasure herself and to be only with people who treasured her and you know, really nice stuff like that. What a nice, nice guy, let me tell you. Then He asks her to please call a few of the agents and tell them He’s here and He needs their help.

Well, of course, they must’ve thought she was looney toons, so nobody came out at first. So, all embarrassed, she calls again. Finally, one royally pissed off guy in a thousand dollar suit comes stomping out, and he goes, “Janet, for Christ’s sake — I was on a conference call! What the hell is wrong with you — oh my — God . . . ”

He gets a load of Jesus, right, and he puts his hand to his heart, and he starts whispering to himself, “Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God . . . ”

And it was so great. Jesus is so smooth, man. He goes right up to the guy shakes his hand and says, “Good morning, Marty. I’m so terribly sorry to drop in unexpectedly like this, but can we sit down for a bit and come up with a strategy for saving the world? I think an agency as powerful and venerated as yours should be able to steer me through this journey, don’t you?”

“Uhh. . . Yes, sir. Sure, sure, of course, c’mon back. I’ll — uh — hey, Janet, get us some — what do you want to drink? We got coffee, soda, juice…”

And so he starts to lead Jesus back to the offices, so I go to sit down in the lobby, you know, to wait for Him. But Jesus peeks his head back around the corner, and says,“C’mon, Larry, don’t dawdle.”

And He winks at me, like, hey, we’re in, isn’t this cool. So, I just, you know, go with Him.

And so, there I am, sitting at this big beautiful sharp-looking table with all these slick agent-types and Jesus in his beautiful robe with his halo just sparkling away. I know, I don’t know what the hell I was doing there either, but so long as I was with Him, I was fine. Just taking in the view, you know?

So, Jesus starts talking. And I mean, how do I explain it, it was like music, or something. Like, I don’t know, I mean, He just starts explaining to them the whole Second Coming thing, and how things had to happen really, really fast ‘cause we weren’t headed for disaster anymore, disaster is here, big time. And He could work miracles alone, sure, but only up to a point. Now he was in density, everybody’s gotta pitch in, or something like that. And you know, He said a lot of cool things I mostly don’t remember – a lot wild, heavy, deep, true stuff. And He went on for a long time, and listening to Him felt like your brain was getting washed out with real clean water or a light show or something. I don’t know, but when He was done, all those people were on His team.

I mean, they’re normally the type you want to smack in the head with a rolled-up newspaper, you know the type. But somehow just by listening to Him, it’s like He re-wired their hard-drive or something.

One guy goes, “So, what do you visualize, Jesus — if I may call you that –”

“Sure,” he says, “Of course!”

“Okay, you want us to book you, what — lecture tours, colleges, corporations, what?”

And Jesus says, real definite, “No, I think we should go straight to late night.”

They all go really quiet, and look at each other, like He may be Jesus, but He doesn’t have a clue about show business.

And I don’t like them thinking He’s an idiot so I say,

“Listen to me, I gotta tell you, Jesus is hysterically funny. I mean, really, seriously funny! He had us screaming last night. And he does fantastic impressions!”

So, Jesus sort of blushes, and one of the shmucks goes, like I’m a chair that talked without being asked to, “I’m sorry, you’re — who?”

And Jesus says, “I’ll introduce him yet again, Nathan. Larry Levy is my very dear friend, and I trust his instincts completely.”

And I could tell these sharks are thinking up a thousand and one ways to leave me in a ditch, but they smarm me up anyway. Then some chick with way too much makeup on goes,“People, I hate to but negative, but I just don’t see how we can sell this whole funny Jesus angle.”

And the Marty guy rolls his eyes and goes, “We don’t need to pitch Him as a standup, Sheila — we just pitch The whole Messiah thing! Are you kidding? How tough a sell can it be? The fucking Second Coming has come, for Christ’s fucking sake! Whoa, sorry, Jesus, sorry… it just came out, no offense.”

“None taken,” Jesus says, and I could tell He’s trying not to laugh.

So this Nathan guy goes, “Yeah, come on, we’re talking about one phone call, two tops, a quick meeting with what’s-her-name at NBC?”

And then a young guy with glasses goes, “Hey, Jesus — how much time do you think it would take you to come up with an hour special?”

And then somebody else says, real excited, “Oh my God, wait! Okay — a reality show, like — Jesus goes from town to town and, you know, works miracles, right? Like –”

And somebody else goes, “Oh, please, that’s so Highway to Heaven.”

And so they all start arguing and riffing on how they’re gonna sell Jesus. How they should get somebody to work with Him on what anecdotes He’ll tell on the talk shows, and maybe they should hip His look up, and cut his hair a little and lose the robe, and how maybe they should try to time it for sweeps week, and how they could leak it to this one and that one first, and get it out on social media and stuff.

And I’m watching Jesus listen to everybody, and I can see that He’s starting to maybe realize that this comeback of his wasn’t going be so simple.

~~~

So, yeah. Sure. You know the way it goes.

He goes on all the talk shows and He kills, of course. And at first, it feels incredible. You remember how great it was those first few weeks, when we were all full of pure hope again, like little kids — jumping up and down and thinking maybe something could really get fixed in this world, and people everywhere could really be happy — you know, and have clothes and food and jobs and stuff, Him being all revealed to everybody, and being so clean and pure and full of charm and love and miracles and all. You know, He was gonna save the day, like they always told us. People everywhere were so nice to each other, making up with people they hated, you know stuff like that.

And then, you know, there were all those stupid hour specials on Him, and all the pilgrimages to Queens, and all the talking heads talking their heads off. And then there were all those articles criticizing Him for this and that, and saying He was naive and disappointing and not nearly as tall as they thought He’d be. And then there was the Church suing Him for libel all over the place, and just the whole hurricane of garbage everybody threw at Him for not fixing everything overnight just by showing up.

In the beginning, He could still smile through all of it, you know, just let it all slide off, like He expected a lot of it. But I could see, after a while, when more and more things happened that hurt Him or surprised Him, every time He came home, He looked less and less, well, like Himself. His skin started to look sort of pasty, and His hair looked thinner, and even His halo got sort of dim, and didn’t sparkle so much at all anymore.

And the paparazzi scumbags that still sometimes hang around our apartment house like a bunch of cockroaches just made Him totally crazy. They completely wrecked His nerves. He didn’t understand how mean they were, and he didn’t know what to do with them. He kept thinking they were human, and I kept trying to explain to Him that they weren’t. And everybody with their cellphones and their selfies, just swarming all over him, forget about it – it all just overwhelmed him. He’s a real sensitive guy.

Everybody wanted to bleed him dry. Everybody wanted miraculous healing, you remember? And he did it for, like thousands of people, but he just got so tired and drained. It got so He couldn’t even heal anymore, it wouldn’t take. So people got mad and called Him selfish and a phony. People with crosses hanging around their necks yet. People would claw at Him on the street, and ask for autographs and blessings and miracles and money. And of course, He refused to hire bodyguards. We may be talking about the Messiah, but He just wasn’t ready for the 21st century wacko freaking world.

Now, you can ask me as many times as you want to, and you can try to trick me and you can think I’m lying and I really don’t care, but me and Ma don’t know where He went, okay? Not that if I knew I’d tell you, no matter what you did to me, but I don’t. Period. And we’ve been interviewed by CBS, NBC, ABC, the FBI, the CIA, the IRS, and God only knows who else. Our phones are still tapped and we’re still being watched.

Right before he left, I myself was getting pretty stressed and crazy with it all. You know the media was pretty vicious about me and what a loser I am. You don’t have to pretend, I know you know. I told Jesus it would happen. And when it did, it made Him so mad, it cut him to the bone. I remember one article He read made Him cry, it was so mean about me. He just didn’t get how nasty people are, which I can’t understand, considering what happened to Him the first time around. I think He thought we must’ve changed since then.

Sometimes He’d sit and watch TV and see something real stupid or violent or He’d by mistake flip on one of those sex shows late at night and He’d just put His head in His hands and say, real quiet, “What was I thinking . . . ”

And I felt so bad for Him. Breaks your heart to see a guy as perfect and sweet as Him feeling failed. He started sleeping a lot, and He’d wake up really exhausted, with puffy dark circles under His eyes. And then, He got a really bad cough and a cold that lasted for so long it was starting to worry us.

One day when he was out, Ma and I finally had a big conversation. We could see something deep inside Him was going seriously south. So, one day, while Jesus was on the couch, with His nose all rough and red (yeah, just like a normal sick person), sipping at some chicken soup, I decided to break it to Him, without my mother there, just so I could concentrate and not be interrupted.

And I say to Him, “So, Jesus, I’m your pal, right?”

“The best, Larry.” He starts to put down the soup to listen. I say, “No, here — Ma said you gotta to finish this.”

“That’s okay,” he says, “I’m not hungry.”

“Jesus, please don’t make me sound like my mother. ‘Cause if you don’t eat this, I’ll have to yell at you and I know I’m gonna sound just like my mother if I yell at you to eat your soup. So, please, don’t take away my last shred of diginity.”

And He sips some more, and I go, “Atta boy, Mr. Christ.”

And we both laugh, even though He’s feeling low. He and I used to crack each other up all the time, just like me and Joey used to. And then, His beautiful laugh starts choking Him and He starts coughing and hacking, which breaks my heart. But it gives me the guts to say what I have to say:

“Okay, so listen — Ma and I have been talking about it, and . . . you really gotta get the hell out of here.”

And He looks all apologetic all of a sudden, like he’s maybe overstayed his welcome. What a jerk I am! Right out of the gate, I chose the wrong words, and make Him think I was kicking Him out of the apartment.

“No, you big goof! You could stay with us forever, you know that — you’re family. You’re better than family! What I mean is… just — just hear me out, willya?”

And there He was, lying there on the couch, listening to me the way he always did — like I was somebody. I can still see the expression on his face. God, I miss Him so much.

“Alright,” I said. “I’m thinking you need to go some place, maybe on Earth, maybe some planet close by — I don’t know, you choose, you know the territory. But go some place really seriously beautiful and peaceful and quiet, you know — with trees and birds and stars or whatever. And you know, rest up and then go hang out with the smartest people in the Universe, and you know, come up with . . . a whole new plan.”

Jesus looks into His soup for a couple of seconds. I know He felt real humiliated, like he failed. And He starts blinking hard, trying not to cry.

And I keep going. I say, “Listen to me — you made so many people so happy, alright? You inspired a whole slew of people, millions and millions and millions of people! You made me and Ma so much happier than we’ve ever been in our whole lives . . .”

And He puts His hand on my shoulder and squeezes it.  And I go, “And okay, I gotta say this. I mean, maybe also next time you oughta pick somebody more, you know, more intelligent than me to be your pal. You know, somebody…who could’ve helped you more.”

“Larry,” he says, “Please don’t insult my best friend.”

And I start to get choked up. But I just keep talking. “Anyway, you know what I’m saying, right? Now that you’ve the lay of the land, of just how crazy and complicated everything is, I think it’s best you just go away somewhere where you can think straight and come up with. . . you know, the Third Coming.”

He looks at me for a little with the saddest smile you ever saw. Then He looks out the window for a while. And then, He agrees with me. He tells me it’s a great idea.

You know, He was the first person who ever really showed honest-to-God respect for what I had to say. And when people look down on me or make fun of me, I really don’t care anymore. I just remember Him laughing that fantastic laugh whenever I said something funny, or listening to me with all His heart and I just don’t get so hurt by people any more.

Anywho, that last Sunday morning, we all had a nice, long breakfast, sure. Ma got a big Zabars spread, for His last lox and bagel. And, sure, we all sat there and cried our heads off.

And then, we hugged each other good-bye and he left the apartment. Ma and me went to the window, and looked down at the street and saw him coming out of the building. And sure enough, He stopped and looked up and smiled. And somehow, the few paparazzi scumbags didn’t see Him walking right past them. And then, He walked up the street and He just . . . disappeared.

We stood there for like ten minutes, looking at the place in the air where He disappeared, crying.

Then, Ma and I finally sat back down at the table and she cut me a piece of coffee cake and poured herself some more tea.

And I look up at her as she’s stirring in her sugar, and I say, “So, Ma, if He comes back again, what do you think’ll happen?”

And she shrugs a little, and she smiles, and she says, “Well, you never know, Larry. But… three’s the charm, right?”

THE END