Crystalline Cool (17)

  
   "Crystalline Cool (17)"
   
   Duncan woke to the news, which was:  TRUMP!!!
   At that point, he knew anything is possible, and people do have a chance, from a certain point of view; still, he adored his duty as a poor kid, kneeling down, thanking God for the day--that is why we call it the present, for it is a gift.  And he recalled how much he adored the Virgin Mother, Her having said in Luke's Gospel:  "My soul doth magnify the Lord.  I shall be remembered for every and all generations."  Indeed, there has been more sightings of Her than Elvis himself.  On every corner in America there is a Virgin Mother statue, or image, which She predicted more than 2,000 years ago.  
   Furthermore, the reason he loved Her--because so many put Her down, not knowing Catholics don't worship Her, but honor Her, as She held the Living Torah in Her Blessed Belly, being the Ark of the Covenant, a Singular Vessel of Devotion, associated with the number 13--just ask Reagan's friend, Pope John Paul the Second, that Saint knowing all too well, and totally still alive in Christ.
   So, after his morning prayers, Duncan wended his way to the modest kitchen, finding Dad brewing some green tea; next, mixing it with the Stevia leaf and some cinnamon.  The old Apache Native said, in a probing manner to his bruised son:  "I'm not that up on the Book of Daniel, but doesn't it say that a leader will come from the North, and the South will be driven out; then, the East will get involved?"
   Duncan took some of the highly anti-oxidant tea, responding:  "Possibly."
   Dad then lit his cigar, blowing his prayers to the Celestial Heavens, and instructed his son:  "If you really want to be chaste, maybe you shouldn't corporeally gel with Aimee.  But no matter how great your sin--God's mercy is stronger."
   Duncan replied:  "All I know Dad, is that I love the Trinity and the Virgin; plus, the sublime Angels and Saints.  I'll cross the bridge concerning whether to make love or not when I approach it.  But for now, I'll keep digging ditches and praying for the souls in Purgatory."
   The old man with:  "It's a new day my loyal son.  Your sins are forgiven, for you are a weirdo of the most magnanimous kind, and like I told you before, I'm pleased with you, and if you continue being a ditch digger--be the best ditch digger you can be."
   Duncan smiled; next, Roadkill entered the kitchen, gave a wag of the tail, smiled some slobber, and urinated on the floor.  His Dad laughed, saying:  "Saint Francis still hasn't tamed this crazy, wily quasi-wolf.  You clean up the piss."
  Duncan kept smiling, saying:  "As Pynchon mentioned--every dog has his day, and a good dog just might have two."  Then, he knelt down and gave the loyal hound a kiss on the canine's furry head, telepathically telling the noble beast, pineal gland to pineal gland, that he adored those loving creatures that divinely walked on all fours, for there is nothing more faithful than a loving dog.