The Queen

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Walking the streets of Vancouver, I looked overhead at the red-blushing tone. Was it due to the orange glowing street lamps? No, I didn’t think so.

It was her, she had haunted me for four years and now I felt her presence. It was a heavy presence, almost like drowning in a flash flood. I choked on it like the air was thick with her perfume (Red Roses). I looked around to see if she was near, but my gut told me she was everywhere, but nowhere to be seen. Not physically, not yet at least. Am I insane? I asked myself. Was she even here, or was I just delusional?

I think the answer was somewhere in between. I had to have been crazy, to follow her across the country, on a greyhound. Was it that I was trying to get away from her originally? I can’t remember. The bus arrived 5 days and six hours ago this morning.

During the daytime, the city was great, like I was a tourist surrounded by other tourists. I found it easy to pretend I was one of them. As night fell, the atmosphere had become dire. The true purpose of my visit had come to my attention. I was here for, a much more enlightening journey.

Was it her that found me first, or me that found her? As far as I knew, again it was somewhere in between. I had vivid dreams. Were they created by her? I saw her every waking hour now, not just in my sleep.

The bus ride had been a miracle on its own. I survived a whole week on a loaf of bread and dry ramen noodles. I curled up in a ball in my seat, resting or trying to conserve energy. Was it the starvation that had brought on the delusions?

I knew better. The allegories and metaphors were well-implanted in my consciousness, long before the bus ride. What were the words they spoke? Bad people were known as Australians because “they came from a land down under.” Cars or bicycles were said to be the vessels, in which one’s soul would travel in. Bicycles in particular were the preferred lingo.

Why? Because they had come first, also that bicycles were bipedal like humans; designed with a set of two of everything. Secret languages that she and her firstborn children, spoke telepathically without words or writing. Between her and Seth, both sides had their coded meanings, behind what they were “saying.”

Seth was traditional in all ways you could imagine possible. At least I envisioned him as such, as far as a wingman goes, he was top-notch, teaching me about ancient mysteries and the three temples: Body, Mind, and Spirit.

He sounded like another Seth, his impression of Seth Rogen was spot on in my opinion. I’d go for a cigarette and he’d tell me in Rogen’s voice, “Puff puff pass man.” Never had I laughed so hard.

Rogen was a stand-up in Vancouver Originally. Was that the connection that had drawn me to Vancouver? Seems a bit silly to have come 5,000 km., just for a guy who would use the personality of a Jewish Canadian Comedian.

It was very appealing to a man of my age, at the time. I found Seth's impeccable impersonation of Seth, to be uncanny and delightful. If any subject needs some humor, it was approaching this lonely journey westward, where I was chasing down the wife of God.

I was never a person to sing in the choir before. I was an agnostic for years. Holy Hell! If I had only known, just an ounce of what I was going to go through back then. I would have read a bit of the Bible, at least the section that told you how to fight evil, or something.

The weirdest thing was, I wasn’t dealing with pure evil, nothing about it felt that way. This was something else, this was something familiar. Like an old friend or a childhood memory that was distant but still there. Echoing in my head, because she had always been there.

I first started thinking about her, after I heard a whisper of her name, in a dream I had that past Christmas. I remember a family member had put a CD on, you know, the ones where they made a mix, years ago with all the basic songs. While Talking about the usual X-mas traditions, making cookies and laughing.

A song I had heard millions of times before was Hallelujah, originally by Leonard Cohen. Another Jewish Canadian performer (interestingly enough). The song started with:

“Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played, and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do you?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing Hallelujah”

Suddenly The whole room went silent around me. I zoned into the music and only the music. So it struck me, who was the “baffled king”?

“Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne, and she cut your hair

And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah”

And finally who was she ?! Wow! Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you…

My sister asked, “Hey are you paying attention?” I said, “Oh sorry” and returned to the festivities. Yet a burning question remained who were they? I figured the king could be God, but she remained nameless and this puzzled me at the time. Dreams of her to come were about a lady in a red dress. I did not realize her proper name, until later that summer. Asherah was known as מלכת השמים The Queen of Heaven.

She told me who she was and that she was the Mother Goddess, God’s other half. I was freaking out for two reasons: 1. That there was a supernatural element to the world around me. 2. I was Hearing her voice in my head.

Seth arrived soon after her name was revealed and said, "Do not trust Asherah, she is God’s wife, yes this is true, but she is also the Devil, the serpent, and the adversary, Satan." Likewise, Asherah said, "Do not use Seth, never trust Seth. He is the third son of Adam and will do you no good." I felt like a Grey Jedi, balancing the dark with the light, a middleman between Heaven and Hell knows where. Where would the Red Queen Reside? Vancouver, right? Back to Vancouver.

The sky was still blushing red as ever. I had made it a fair distance from the bus terminal and proceeded to the waterfront where I found a bronze statue of an Angel, lifting a soldier from the battlefield. It was an awe-inspiring moment. I felt like a soldier fighting a war, I knew nothing about.

I traveled back up a street and a sign caught my eye. I stopped and asked a stranger standing there if he had a smoke. The man pulled out a cig from his John Players pack and then handed it to me, “Here you go.” I said, “Thank you.”

Luckily I had a lighter. So I lit it. Oh god! How I missed that all day, that nicotine fix!

While smoking, I read a two-sided sign, written in chalk. A picture of a Chess Queen was drawn in white chalk and alongside it was written: 'The Red Queen at the top of these stairs, a quick shot and you will be there.' It was a bar with a band called the Red Queen but I knew what she meant. She’d been teasing me with these riddles for months, as far as riddles go, this was pretty blatant.

So I finished up my cig to its last puff. No jokes from Seth; he was nowhere to be seen or heard, not in her presence. It would have been nice to have him, make me laugh one more time. Her firstborn kept him at bay, or he was showing respect to his mother. I put out my cigarette on the sidewalk, went to the doorway, took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

The smell of roses led me upstairs. I got halfway up and felt a pop, like a gunshot, to the back of my head! I moved my hands to the back of my head where the pain was coming from. Oh shit! It hurt! I felt no physical hole. I didn't see anyone else on the stairs.

I felt like I was dead but I could not give it much thought. I was in her lair now. I thought, 'keep moving, almost there.' I made my way up the second half of the stairs and turned around the corner. The band was done with their set, I had just missed it. I did not need to talk to any of these people. They were not what I was here for.

I looked toward the bar and saw the bartender and a girl probably 5 years younger than me, if not more. I asked if I could have a glass of water so that I could sit down near her, for a better look.

This girl had dyed, red hair and wore a fake, white fur coat. It resembled a shaggy poodle. I said, "Hi" and she said, "Hi" back. I said, "How are you?" She said, "I am good." "What are you drinking?" I asked. She replied, "Gin and tonic." I said, "Oh nice, I am drinking wah-ter (fuck!) She laughed and said, "I know, I just heard you ask the barr-tender!" She looked away. I thought this poor girl probably thinks I'm homeless and she wasn’t entirely wrong. I had spent my savings getting here and now, I was broke.

It was the most anticlimactic experience! Was she the Red Queen or was I having another delusional moment? I could never tell. The Bartender asked if I wanted another water and I said, "No, got to get home." No one knew my home was 5,000 km East.

I slept on a park bench across from the Vancouver Catholic Cathedral that night. I sang a religious song, I had learned the next morning, as a kid.

They hung him on a cross

They hung him on a cross

They hung him on a cross for me

One day when I lost

They hung him on a cross

They hung him on a cross for me

They whooped him up the hill

They whooped him up the hill

They whooped him up the hill for me

Etc...

Someone stopped and gave me a twenty-dollar bill.

I got some breakfast, then called a good friend to pay my way home on the next bus headed East. I thought on the way home; was she the girl, the band, or the bartender? Do you know what she told me?

All of the above! The devil was in the details.

Couldn't help but feel that I had missed something...

The End.