The Rolling Reverend
The rushing waters of the Rio Grande swelled to capacity by the spring runoffs, split the stillness of the early Santa Fe, New Mexico morning. Tom Dillon turned the collar of his buckskin against the morning chill and adjusted his Stetson hat. The damp black top steamed eerily in the sun. The rows of red tiled roofed adobe houses with their rusted wire fenced yards were silent. He squinted against the bright morning sunlight and stared into the snowcapped peaks of the Santa Fe National Forest. Tom’s gaze drifted out across the 10,000 foot Sandia Peak and the 12,000 foot Santa Fe with it's wide-open timbered slopes and it's sister Sipapu. He looked fondly toward Ruidoso and memories of the towering Ski Apache. Tom thought for a second of Taos and made a mental inventory of every inch of its massive Hunziker Bowl and Lone Star Trail. He reflected deeply on the days and hours spent on Angel Fire and Red River. Quickly he turned away from Questa and the distant view of San Antonio Peak. The season had ended, he had gathered his possessions, said goodbye to Cimarron and was travelling through Santa Fe to Albuquerque. The Pecos had been thick, blood red and raging with runoff. He slid on his knapsack and fished inside for his bag of gorp. Ahead in the steamy distance of the highway a yellow van appeared on the horizon. He straightened up, smoothed the wrinkles from his buckskin and stuck out his thumb. The yellow van stopped beside him. He grabbed his belongings and started for the door when he realized that it was tandem vans. The first van was pulling a second exactly the same, a pair of yellow school bus vans. He hesitated for a second and jumped in, he was assaulted by the smell of new, and a deep voice said,'' Morning Pilgrim, you must be one of God's lost creatures."
Oh Christ, he thought, I've got to ride through New Mexico with a mega church, want to be leader. He reached into his bag of gorp and pulled out a large handful and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Morning Brother," he mumbled. The vans lurched forward and they lapsed into silence. Tom warily eyed the stranger. A large gold cross sparkled from an onyx stone on a thick gold ring on his left hand. His white neatly pressed shirt with his black bow tie stood out against his black jacket and his white cuffs were neatly buttoned with gold cross cufflinks. He knew it! He would have to listen to a born again Christian preach to him. The back van was probably filled with Bibles for all God's Lost Souls.
"Whatta you do, and where ya headin son?" the stranger asked cheerfully. Tom turned toward the voice, the happy voice. He didn't trust cheery people, especially cheery people first thing in the morning. His good friend the Captain had warned him when they had parted ways, never to trust a happy bright cheery person first thing in the morning. "Just sumpin not natural about it." Then again over the years, he had learned never to trust anything the Captain said. He reached into his bag of gorp stuffed a handful into his mouth and decided to really rattle this Christian's Cage.
“I'm a professional ski bum, and I'm on my way to the beaches of Southern California, Encinitas and Cardiff By The Sea. I've been skiing in the mountains of New Mexico all winter and I'm looking forward to seeing women, skin and women, women and skin. Praise the Lord! Hallelujah Brother! Skin and Women, the four S's, Sun, Sand, Skin, and Sisters,” Tom smiled quite taken with his early morning humor. Tom's eyes were met by the cold icy stare of the emerald green eyes of the Reverend.
"Where ya headin with these van's and how come ya got two of em?"
"These are new school buses and I'm on my way to Savannah, Georgia to turn them over to the school board. My brother owns the car company and I'm just out of the seminary and working until I get my parish. This is probably my last trip."
Tom grinned. He prided himself on his ability to type personalities. There are only so many types in the world, and from his years on the road, he had seen them all, or so he thought.
He looked up the road as the vans began to slow. An elderly woman in a torn black sweater with a crumpled long black dress was standing beside the road. She had a large paisley carpetbag. Her hair long and red was matted and gnarly.
"Oh- There's another one of God's lost creatures," the Reverend said."
"Step right up and sit down," he said to the ragged woman as she climbed into the van.
Christ not only is he going to preach across the country, he's going to pick everybody and his brother up also, Tom thought.
“Where you headed?” the now familiar voice questioned.
“Charleston, South Carolina, I lost all my money when they killed my husband,” she said without hesitation.
Tom looked into her misty eyes.
“We’re sorry we are all on the road,” he removed his large wallet, slid the chain out of the way and pulled out a twenty.
“Hope this helps?” he steadied himself as the vans moved forward. He wasn’t sure what to say. She looked destitute but he had learned that there were many stories on the road. He sat back in his seat. It wouldn’t be more than a few hours before he split off and headed to Southern California.
The ocean was beckoning and he had heard the call loud and clear. He offered up his gorp to his new travelling companion.
“No thanks,” she replied with a blank distant stare.
“O.K, then,” he sat back uncomfortably.
“There’s a couple more lost creatures,” the Reverend commented as he pulled off the highway. Tom sat bolt upright, looked around quickly and assessed the seating capacity. He estimated it to be six in front and maybe the same in the rear van. The thought crossed his mind that this train could be full by the time it reached its destination. The vans slowed to a stop alongside two men. One exceptionally tall in a tan rider coat, the second a very short fellow with a light blue ski jacket and cap on stepped to the side door and opened it. Tom slid to the far left of the front back seat and made room for the men.
“Howdy gentlemen, where ya headed? I’m Tom, jump in.”
“I’m Bill and this is Jake,” the short man slid past Tom and made room for his friend and their cargo.
“We are headed to Sedona, to do some hiking and find a shaman to adjust our aura’s,” Jake said.
“O. K, then” Tom sat back again uneasily. “Gorp anyone?” he said, holding out the bag. He was at a loss for words. Surveying the surroundings he deduced that with the next stop he might request the rear van.
“What an odd set up here,” Bill exclaimed.
“Going to Savannah if anyone is up for a long trip. I’d like to stop at noon and say a small prayer to bless our trip,” the Reverend said.
Tom looked at the new arrivals and at the older woman and smiled. He was entertained like no other trip he had ever been on.
“I don’t know about all of you, but this could get very interesting fast.”
“We just want to make it a little further down the road. Jake and I are anxious to see our friends,” Bill said.
“That would be after the noon sermon, I take it,” Tom could not contain his joy.
The other companions rolled their eyes in unison.
“Seriously,” Tom said. “I would like to know how one goes about getting their aura adjusted? I have heard about Acupuncture, Regression Therapy, but not Aura’s.”
Jake sat forward and took a short breath.
“When someone refers to an ‘aura’. They are talking about an unseen energy field that surrounds all living things. The different colors of your aura are thought to provide insight into your emotional and spiritual well-being. While it’s not always possible to see aura colors with the naked eye, we can usually feel them. You can get an aura reading. Like an enneagram or astrology auras can supposedly help you understand yourself. They can be adjusted by energy work.
“O.K. Then,” Tom sat back and was silent.
“Ah! Another of God’s poor creatures,” the Reverend exclaimed.
Tom jumped at the opportunity and grabbed his pack.
“I’ll sit in the back with them.” He opened the van door and stopped abruptly. A petite young woman with a blue pack and long dark hair was facing him.
“Hi! I’m Kate,” she said, smiling brightly.
“Tom,” was all that he could manage. After several seconds he took a slow breath to gather his composure and motioned to the rear van.
“I hope you don’t mind, but this is filling up. I know it’s bizarre, but believe me, it would be less bizarre in the trailing van. Please trust me.”
“I just need a ride to Interstate 40. Then I’m heading to Southern California. The back will do.”
“Allow me,” Tom stepped to the rear van and opened the door. He stopped. Neatly stacked against the sidewall were several cardboard boxes. He could not suppress a hearty laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Where to start. We have some time. Hop in, I'll explain.”
The two stepped up into the van, closed the door and like a coupled train car it lurched forward. They sat next to one another and set their packs on the floor. Tom glanced at Kate as she adjusted her belongings.
“Okay, Let me see. The driver is a recent graduate from a seminary. It is his last trip for his brother’s car company and he is on his way to Savannah. He is a Reverend on a mission to pick up all of God’s lost creatures across the country. He promised to stop for a noon revival meeting. There is a crazy woman on the way to Charleston and two strangers going to Sedona to have their aura’s adjusted. Believe it or not if you read these boxes they are bibles. Probably for his new followers, I guess. I can’t help but be amused.”
Kate smiled and laughed heartily.
“I was worried about travelling by myself, there is safety in numbers so I’m told.”
“I’m on my way to Encinitas. I want to bask in the ocean and camp.”
“Encinitas! I grew up surfing there. There is a beach called Swami’s. It is right below the Self-Realization Fellowship Temple. We used to sit in the water with our surf boards and binoculars and search for the Swamis flying on their carpets.”
“You did what? Who was flying where?”
“Paramahasa Yogananda and his followers at the Temple.”
“I know Yoganada! I bought the Autobiography of a Yogi in Telluride, Colorado. I was going to go to the ashram.”
“Telluride! I’ve been to the bluegrass festival there. When I was a D.J. for Public Radio. My Bluegrass Show was awesome. I got free passes to Telluride’s Festival. They included backstage. I interviewed all the celebrities. There is even an interview with Buddy Miles, Jimmi Hendrix’s former drummer. I alsoknow how to get into the gardens at Swami’s. There’s a gate on the side. I’m going near there. I’ll take you there if you want to go.”
“Want to go! Yeah I want to go.”
Kate looked at Tom a little closer. There was something more to him than just a scruffy vagabond. She thought it kind of funny how their paths were entwined and they had just met.
“Where are you coming from?” she asked.
“I’ve wintered just out of Cimarron. I skied Taos, Angel Fire and Red River most of the winter. Before that I was living in Vail. I had some of my greatest outdoor experiences there. Climbed some Fourteeners and skied The Back Bowls of Vail and many days at Beaver Creek. I studied the S.R.F. lessons and was initiated in Kriya Yoga in Denver. I also spent quite a lot of time in Telluride and Aspen.”
“What did you do in Telluride?”
“I attended a workshop and read a short story at the Sheridan Opera House. I had been climbing on Rabbit Ears Pass and I went into a bookstore. That’s when I saw The Autobiography Of A Yogi. Yogananda looked so serene, his photo on the cover was mesmerizing. I can’t explain it. Now I have to go to Encinitas. I'm drawn there for some inexplicable reason,” Tom looked into Kate’s eyes.
“I’ve spent a lot of time around Swami’s. That was our favorite surf beach. I’m heading back after years in Colorado. I lived in Aspen. My friends and I used to run up the Ute Trail. No more snow, I want the warm weather,” Kate said.
“Aspen, the Ute is really steep, that's a tough run, I had a difficult time getting over the root section. I liked the town. Hiking Smuggler was challenging, it affords you great views of Aspen Mountain. It isn't a closed in Valley like Vail and Telluride. The World Hang Gliding Championships were in Telluride when I was there. The Hang Gliders performed loop de loops away from the big rock face in town. What did you do in Aspen?”
“I worked at all kinds of different jobs. You know what it’s like. I cleaned houses. Took care of horses. I even crewed for a hot air balloon company. I was a rock radio D.J. It was great fun. There are a lot of opportunities but they don’t pay much. You are always a servant. I want to go to school to learn massage in a warm climate. My Volkswagen bug broke down and that’s why I’m on the road.
“The vans slowed to a stop. Kate and Tom could see the side door of the front van open.
“Must be another one of God’s lost creatures,” Kate said to Tom as they both laughed.
They watched as Bill slipped out of the van and a young man in a camouflage jacket with a matching pack stepped into the van. They moved forward and continued down the road.
“He looks to be another Afghan or Iraqi War Soldier Refugee, Tom”
“He does. There are so many of them.”
“All the young men are off to die or come back broken and unable to cope, Sara said sadly.
“My friends and I are so lucky. We grew up and were allowed to ski. The free generation,” Tom extolled.
“It’s the way it should be,” Sara replied.
“We have about another hour until we head west. Except the Reverend said we are going to have a noon sermon. That should be in about a half hour. I honestly have no idea. You have got to give him credit for his effort. He might just save the world,” Tom laughed.
“ At least he saved our world and put us together. I don’t know what it’s all about, but I’m very happy the way this turned out,” Kate said to Tom.
“I gave him a very hard time when he picked me up. I was happy for the ride.”
“I went to a Catholic School but it just alienated me. I’m still searching.”
“I never would have thought I would be a Yogi. Mountains were always my refuge. I’m close to God and nature there but I think I have found my calling with Swami.”
“Nature, the ocean especially, has been mine. I just don’t like being cold and couldn’t take the winter.”
Tom reached into his pack and pulled out his gorp. He offered it to Kate and she took a handful.
“Thanks I’m starving.”
Tom sat back and smiled. ”No problem.” He thought about the strangeness of this entire trip and that it was only the beginning. How fortunate was he to find someone who not only knew of Yogananda and was willing to show him the temple and gardens with the Pacific Ocean right there. He wondered if surfing was any different than riding a skateboard.
The van’s turned into a parking area and pulled alongside a field. There was a large open grassy area with a steep hill rising up and overlooking the field. Tom and Kate grabbed their packs and walked to the door of the front van. The odd group of individuals emerged from the van and gathered outside waiting for direction.
“Why don’t all of you follow me to the field? There is a perfect place for a talk on the hill.”
The group began moving forward and Tom and Kate fell in line alongside Jake and Bill.
“Hey Afghan,” Kate teased the tall thin camouflaged man. “Where are you coming from? Also, Thank you for your service! I know you didn’t have to. We appreciate it. I’m Kate and this is Tom.”
“You’re Welcome, I’m John. Got no fixed address with no fixed destination. You might say I’m walking my mind to and easy time. Don’t seem to fit in anywhere.”
“I know the feeling,” Tom replied.
“You pegged it right. I am an Afghan refugee. Saw enough action in Wanat to last a lifetime and then some. Just haven’t found a place to call home yet. Thought I might make my way down to Galveston. My brother has a job working on the rigs there, haven’t seen him in a few years. Might see what comes of it.”
“What is this all about?” Bill asked.
“Don’t really know, but the Reverend is getting his Parish soon and I think he wants to save all of you lost creatures,” Tom said laughing. “But as for me, I’m found and I know where I’m going it is to an Ashram in Encinitas with Kate.” He gave Kate a slight nudge and she turned and threatened harm to him.
They stopped in the grass as the Reverend walked up the hill and turned to face them.
He raised his hands in prayer above them and made the sign of the cross blessing them as he began.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.”
Kate turned toward the group and whispered, “I know this, it’s the Sermon on the Mount spoken by Jesus to the multitudes and it is called the Beatitudes. I learned this. It’s from the Book of Matthew.
“Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth,” the Reverend continued.
“This is the most famous Sermon of Jesus,” Kate explained. “The Sermon was meant to be memorized and to serve as a source for constant meditation.”
“Let’s listen,” Tom said. “I will be calmly active, actively calm. I am a prince of peace, sitting on the throne of poise, directing the kingdom of my activity.”
“What is that from?” Bill asked.
“My Guru, Paramahansa Yoganada,” Tom reached in his pack and pulled out a copy of the Autobiography of a Yogi. He handed it to Bill. “If you really want to adjust your Aura, read this. George Harrison passed it out freely to everyone. All of the Masters of the Self-Realization Fellowship are on the cover of Sargent Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band in the crowd. Did you know that they passed Swami’s Book out at the funeral of Steve Jobs. A lot of things in my life changed for me after studying with Yogananda.
Let’s give the Reverend the respect he earned for the ride. I have enough gorp for everyone,” Tom chuckled, turned, slid his hand in Kate’s, smiled and sat down next to her.
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