Chapter 16 To read from the beginning, click on the cute picture of Iverson to the right of this post. He's the one behind the maple leaf.
Deeply touched by the story, Thomas pulled out a hankie and wiped his own eyes and nose.
"Will I ever see my family again?" Iverson sighed.
"Well, said Thomas after a deep swig of Heineken, "I think we should see C the Great."
"C the Great," Iverson repeated in wonder.
"Yes. C the Great. She is all knowing. If anyone can help you, she can."
They found C the Great in the middle of a field of irises making greeting cards out of bits of leaf and petals and strips of rattan. She wore a green muumuu and gold lame' slippers.
Iverson bowed low in respect and told her his problem.
"Are you an American citizen?" asked C the Great.
Iverson shook his head.
"Do you have a green card? A visa? A passport?"
Again Iverson shook his head.
Are you a political refugee seeking asylum in the United States?"
"Mais non!" (But no) said Iverson vehemently shaking his head yet one more time.
C smiled, and, as she did so, two robins landed on her shoulder, and a chipmunk scampered to her and rubbed his cheek against her ankle. "We must notify the Border Patrol," said C.
"Qu'est que c'est que ca?" (What is that?)
"Immigration and Naturalization. You're an illegal alien."
"I never rode a space ship in my life!" said Iverson.
"An illegal alien to this country. The authorities will deport you back to Canada."
"Home, my family!" said Iverson beginning to hope. "I'll be home. But, sadly, my vision quest has failed."
"Have you not journeyed?" C inquired.
"Well, yes, from Canada to New York, to the pound, to the front fender, and the ventilation shaft and the exploding penthouse in the sky."
"And you have learned?"
"Never take chocolate, especially a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, that doesn't belong to you, and don't turn anyone into a possum."
"C touched Iverson's cheek and lifted his face until he was gazing into her deep blue eyes. "Your purpose is peace; your path is with mortals; and your animal totem is the lofty possum. And don't discount your vision simply because it really happened. Now wait here while I call Immigration and have you deported." C the Great flounced away with Iverson calling out her, "thank you and good bye!"
Days later in Quebec, Iverson recounted his experiences in America to his family - his incarceration at the pound, the battle of Trump Tower, his new friend Thomas, and the wonderful fishy experience of lox and cream cheese.
"Incroyable," (incredible) said his father. "Quell vision fantastique!(What a fantastic vision!) Vraiment tu es un homme, en plein maintenant!" (truly you are a man now!) And he hugged his son, now a man, and kissed him on both cheeks.
This is a work of fiction, but it's really a good story.
Deeply touched by the story, Thomas pulled out a hankie and wiped his own eyes and nose.
"Will I ever see my family again?" Iverson sighed.
"Well, said Thomas after a deep swig of Heineken, "I think we should see C the Great."
"C the Great," Iverson repeated in wonder.
"Yes. C the Great. She is all knowing. If anyone can help you, she can."
They found C the Great in the middle of a field of irises making greeting cards out of bits of leaf and petals and strips of rattan. She wore a green muumuu and gold lame' slippers.
Iverson bowed low in respect and told her his problem.
"Are you an American citizen?" asked C the Great.
Iverson shook his head.
"Do you have a green card? A visa? A passport?"
Again Iverson shook his head.
Are you a political refugee seeking asylum in the United States?"
"Mais non!" (But no) said Iverson vehemently shaking his head yet one more time.
C smiled, and, as she did so, two robins landed on her shoulder, and a chipmunk scampered to her and rubbed his cheek against her ankle. "We must notify the Border Patrol," said C.
"Qu'est que c'est que ca?" (What is that?)
"Immigration and Naturalization. You're an illegal alien."
"I never rode a space ship in my life!" said Iverson.
"An illegal alien to this country. The authorities will deport you back to Canada."
"Home, my family!" said Iverson beginning to hope. "I'll be home. But, sadly, my vision quest has failed."
"Have you not journeyed?" C inquired.
"Well, yes, from Canada to New York, to the pound, to the front fender, and the ventilation shaft and the exploding penthouse in the sky."
"And you have learned?"
"Never take chocolate, especially a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, that doesn't belong to you, and don't turn anyone into a possum."
"C touched Iverson's cheek and lifted his face until he was gazing into her deep blue eyes. "Your purpose is peace; your path is with mortals; and your animal totem is the lofty possum. And don't discount your vision simply because it really happened. Now wait here while I call Immigration and have you deported." C the Great flounced away with Iverson calling out her, "thank you and good bye!"
Days later in Quebec, Iverson recounted his experiences in America to his family - his incarceration at the pound, the battle of Trump Tower, his new friend Thomas, and the wonderful fishy experience of lox and cream cheese.
"Incroyable," (incredible) said his father. "Quell vision fantastique!(What a fantastic vision!) Vraiment tu es un homme, en plein maintenant!" (truly you are a man now!) And he hugged his son, now a man, and kissed him on both cheeks.
This is a work of fiction, but it's really a good story.
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