Wounded Pilgrim 25

IS IT REAL?

Bartholomew turned lazily in his bed despite it being already morning. He had snoozed his phone a couple of times but today he wondered why he couldn’t remember doing it. He was an early riser and no extra minute would he spend in his bed after a half past six in the morning. He spent the next thirty minutes to prepare himself for work at exactly seven o’clock.

He turned to the face the opposite side of the bed and for once he thought he saw something strange. Someone was sleeping on his bed too and it was a lady and not a man! Jesus of Nazareth! Not only was this strange but rather in a place he was unfamiliar with. It looked like a hotel of an expensive hotel somewhere he could not tell. This place looked elegant and expensive like places he often saw in movies that he loved to watch. He wanted to wake up and look out of the window. He wanted to wake up the lady who was sleeping by his side in this big bed. He wanted to ask her a number of questions like who she was, what she was doing there and probably how he too ended up being there.

It was strange also to imagine he had overslept and yet he didn’t feel like he was late for work and sort start to write an apology letter to his boss for being late. He would probably have to feign some sickness like headache or even stomachache to make it convincing to his tough boss that he was indeed sick and would not make it to work. Definitely the boss would allow him to be exempted from his duties but strongly advise him to seek medical attention at the company’s recommended health facility. There if he went the doctor would do test of him and write a comprehensive laboratory report about his sickness so that he would present it to his boss when he resumes work. But then some private hospital he knew if he went there they would certainly write a false report even of him having corona virus or even being on life support. But he was a born again Christian and he could not participate in such activities for his spiritual health and also testimony as a Christian.

“Honey” was what he thought he had from his bed mate. He turned to face her and she was still sleeping facing away from him.

“Sorry did you just call me honey?” he asked sharply. “Am Bartholomew and not a by product of bees. You are?”

“Sweetheart I didn’t know you were this funny” she said trying to laugh. Then she turned and faced him. He tried to recall her since she looked familiar to him but the name kept slipping from his memory. He wondered she was and how they both ended up on the same bed. Most probably she had all the answers to his question.

“I am Mercy your soulmate” she said trying to move closer to him.

“Oh, my goodness! Are you Mercyline?” he was finding it hard to believe. “Please don’t move closer to me an inch! Am not sure what this is.”

She was still putting up a broad smile on her face. She tried to sit upright and to his amazement she stretched her hand to him. “Look this the ring you put on my hand yesterday on our wedding day and you too have the one I put on you.”

Truly Bartholomew could see a ring his finger just like he was seeing a ting on her finger but then how come he could not remember all of this at all. He took his smartphone from the bed side and it opened with its fingerprint sensor. The first thing he was able to see in there were wedding photos in which he and Mercyline were the bridegroom and bride respectively. All these was not adding up all since he was not remembering any of it at all.

“Am sorry you are not my wife because I don’t remember us being in any courtship, engagement or wedding.” He finally managed to say. “You are not real for sure”

“Honey how can I be not real yet am here and you are here” she said sadly. “You are really taking your jokes too far”

“You are just a dream or you are in my thoughts” he went on.

Just then a knock was heard at the door. “Did you hear that?” he asked her.

“Hear what?” she asked looking serious though to him he thought she was kidding.

“Someone just knocked the door”

The knock again on the door but this time much louder. “Someone is knocking at the door, go check”

“Bartho am not going to check because no one is knocking the door” she looked more serious this time around. The knock again came but this time around it was much louder and went on much longer.

“Bartho! Bartho! Are you in there?” called out with a more intense knock.

Bartholomew woke up quickly from his bed to go open the door. The bedroom looked a dark and he had to switch on lights. The clock on his smartphone was showing it was some minutes to six o’clock. He was in his pajamas but was wet for sweating a lot in his dream. The bed was much smaller and he had been alone there throughout the night.

“So, it was just a dream?” he asked himself aloud as he opened the door. Eliezer was standing out there looking like a lost sheep.

“Sorry for cutting short your dream” he said as he came inside.