The Reason for the Season
Part II
I’m done falling down, Joe thought. His vision
swam and he crouched low to keep from falling. But he didn’t fall. The ground
under him eased into focus and he was standing on a bright sidewalk. He heard
whooshing sounds, almost like cars on wet pavement, but not quite. He slowly
raised his head and looked around.
He
was in a city. Spaced far apart, gleaming buildings of steel and glass towered
into the sky, pyramid shaped, rounded, and other unbelievable shaped that
seemed to defy gravity. Between the skyscrapers were lower buildings in the same
artistic designs with pedestrian bridges connecting them.
And there were
flying vehicles. Lines of them were all over the sky moving at different
speeds, the higher the faster. The vehicles looked to be cars, trucks, busses
and even tiny things that might be motorcycles.
Close to Joe was
what appeared to be a landing area where flying cars touched down and crept
along the ground. Across the road from him was an expanse of flat green grass
with people walking or sitting on benches or under trees.
“Fascinating,”
said a voice next to him. “Is it not?”
Joe
had felt too dazzled by what he saw to feel surprised by his host-ghost
sneaking up next to him. But when he turned and looked, he was astounded.
Standing
next to him was a full sized version of the robot he had seen in the nativity
display. It was a human shape, but made of some shining silvery metal. The
robot stood almost a foot taller than Joe with luminous eyes that flashed red
and green.
“Greetings
Joe,” the robot said. “I am Roger, the Christmas Robot.”
Joe
stared. He tried to think of something, anything to say. His idea that this was
some dying hallucination was harder to believe. Maybe this was heaven now?
“Where
am I?” he was able to say in a small voice.
“You
are in Alpha City,” the robot said, not quite in a monotone. “The Anchor City
of the West Coast of what was once called North America.”
Joe
watched a group of kids go by on flying skateboards. Each wore a helmet with
antennae.
“When
is this?” Joe asked. “How far in the future is this?”
“Let
us say that this is the twenty-third century.”
Joe
kept looking around. The air felt almost as clean as it had on the ancient
hillside. People walked past him, in and out of nearby buildings. No-one seemed
frantic or stressed.
“Roger,”
Joe said. “Is it Christmas?”
“Negative,”
the robot said. “The holiday is no longer observed.”
Joe
felt his heart sink. “Why?” he asked.
“Hunger
and disease have been eradicated,” Roger explained. “The human population has
all of their needs met. They no longer have the need for the belief in a higher
power.”
“Oh
no,” Joe said. Then he looked at the robot. “So wait, why are you a Christmas
Robot?”
Roger’s
head spun completely around and looked back at Joe. “I was manufactured to
greet you here,” he said. “I am your host, do you not remember?”
“So,”
Joe said. “There isn’t any Christmas in the future?”
Roger
didn’t say anything. Joe kept looking at the robot, but it was quiet and still.
“Roger?”
Joe said.
“Do
you like the future?” the robot asked.
Joe
looked up and for the first time, noticed that there were people flying in
jet-packs. Four people flew low overhead and one of them, a little girl, waved.
Joe raised his hand in a feeble wave.
“It’s
pretty cool,” Joe said. “With no diseases or hunger. But no Christmas?”
“Do
you not feel that is an adequate trade-off?” the robot said. “No more pain and
suffering, people are happy and content.”
Joe
walked to a bench and stood looking at it. It looked like it was made of bubble
wrap.
“I
don’t know,” he said. “No-one believes in God anymore? What kind of future is
that?” He turned and sit on the bench and whooped in surprise as he found
himself sitting on the ground.
“Joe,”
the robot said. “Can you not be taken anywhere without falling to the ground?”
“I
was just,” Joe said. “What happened to the bench?”
“It
is not there.”
“I
can see that now,” Joe said. “What kind of future has disappearing seats?”
Roger
moved to Joe and extended a metal hand. “Nothing here is real,” he said.
Joe
reached for the robot’s hand and missed. His hand passed through the metal
hand. He looked up at the robot, and then at everything around him.
“Nothing
here is real? But back at the mall I drank coffee.”
“The
present is real Joe,” said Roger. “But the future does not exist.”
Joe
got to his feet. “So what’s all this?” he asked, gesturing around.
The
robot followed Joe’s pointing. “It is but a vision of what you think the future
might be like,” he said. “But no-one knows what might happen years from now.
Humans can only speculate what the future may be like. But no-one truly knows. Whether or not there will be jet-packs and flying cars in a
shining future or global Armageddon, we do not know.”
Joe
looked at the flying cars. This had
been what he thought the future might look like. But it wasn’t definite.
“So
this might not happen?” he asked.
“Difficult
to see,” the robot said and its eyes flashed bright green. “Always in motion is
the future.”
Joe
blinked at Roger. “But what does this have to do with the meaning of
Christmas?” he said.
“The
reason for the season Joe,” Roger said and pointed with both hands. “It is
still here.”
The
reason for the season. Joe nodded. “They can refuse to believe, but Jesus is
still here?”
“Joe,
stop saying that Jesus is the reason for the season.”
Joe
took in a gasp of air. He was back on the bridge. The future city was gone and
it was night again. His nose started running with the cold air. He looked
around for who had spoken. He had recognized the voice.
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