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Dinner Party, Page 2

Michael Brent Jones


  Chapter 2

  Reading through my notes from the first dinner party, the emotions I felt rushed right back to me. Without even looking back at the date I remember it was November seventh. It was almost noon when the postman came by. All seemed normal, the daily paper, a few bills and a letter from my granddaughter; bless her heart, she always remembers of me. But there was something else, a large white envelope without a return address, only my name in gold print. I opened it and to my shock read that I was to host a dinner party. The surprise guests would arrive and I was to invite no one else to attend. Also it was made clear that it was of utmost importance that the substance of the conversation was to be recorded.

  I went straight to the kitchen, as the letter indicated and I told Jane-who I hired to help me with cooking the meals and cleaning around the house, that she could have the rest of the day off. She was very surprised, not that I let her off early, but that it was before supper. She asked if I was going out for dinner, not wanting to lie I simply said no. She insisted that she could help at least with supper, but finally I convinced her to go home early. She is always so nice to me, I felt bad being somewhat deceptive, but the instruction was specific that I was to host the party, and that no one else was allowed to be there.

  I don’t know what will come of this adventure once it is done. What I write will not be able to force anyone to think a certain way, because unlike me, readers will be able to choose whether they believe it or not. However, the writing will hopefully have the power to inspire; and I think that more than anything else, that is the reason it is being written. If it were truly a eulogy for the world, when the world ended, who would be there to hear it?

  I think however it is time that as a whole, we reflect on how far we have come, and what we have achieved as far as expanding and enriching the soul.

  Next I told Welton, my gardener and handyman, that he could also have the day off. He asked what the occasion was, and I told him that the garden looked beautiful and nothing else needed to be done. Welton is only there Fridays, and so it seemed odd to him to only be there half of the day.

  I was so busy making sure Jane and Welton were gone, that it didn’t set in until they had both left, that it was going to be a dinner party, and if Jane wasn’t going to be cooking, that only left me. I can do a lot with chemicals in a lab, but food in the kitchen is not my specialty. My wife Ann loved to cook; I would usually get my guitar out and sing her songs while she did her magic in the kitchen.

  The reality of the daunting task ahead of me set in. What type of food would they want? Not knowing who my guests would be, I thought about what food I enjoy; fond memories of Ann’s roast beef were the first thing that came to my mind. Once I started I was quickly humbled, feeling more than slightly incapable of following the seemingly simple steps of the recipe. It seemed so easy to put the roast, potatoes and carrots in the pot and then make gravy…

  Ann wrote a lot, and I am glad for many reasons, one right then, having thumbed through the note cards of her grandma’s recipes I was following the one for Pot roast and gravy. I hadn’t put much thought to it before, I would notice the old note cards sometimes when she cooked and knew where they came from, but never thought about what they meant to her. I know she loved her grandma, and I imagined her at her grandma’s side in the kitchen, neatly writing down what her grandma did just by feel.

  Ann always said she wanted to make shortcake without a recipe like Grandma always did but even with the recipe it still was not quite the same, she would say, I thought it was always wonderful.

  In the spirit of Grandma I am going to guestimate and modify a few things; the biggest ones being the temperature and time. I didn’t have all day to cook so it was a surprise to see what some extra heat would do.

  The meat was a little tough, but I think the gravy made up for it. A lot of cream and a little sugar can do wonders! Tasting the gravy for the last time I felt so ready and capable…

  It was raining, but not one of those cold windy winter rains, but a peaceful autumn rain.

  Time flew by and before I knew it, it was seven o-clock exactly; the time indicated they would arrive. The food was prepared and the table was set. Just before I sat down in my arm chair there was a knock at the door. I opened the door to see a cheerful man in old fashioned clothes. I think it was his smile or his kind voice that created a sense of instant friendship.

  “Hello, my name is Anaximander. You must be Lewis Parker. So nice to meet you.”

  My mind was so caught up in his genuine graciousness that my attention was completely taken away from the fact, that coming from outside where it was raining, he was not at all wet.

  Before he even sat down at the table there was another knock at the door. He told me his name was Epictetus. As he walked through the door I peeked out and could see no one in sight. I shut the door and then as a sort of test quickly reopened it. A man had apparently been just about to knock, and looked surprised to see the door opened suddenly. He caught himself as he halfway fell through the doorway.

  Regaining composure he said, “Well hello, you must be Mr. Parker. What a pleasure. My name is Plato.”

  I greeted him and invited him to find a seat. The next knock at the door was Aristarchus who was quickly followed by Archimedes and Marcus Aurelius.

  The dining room was now busy and full of conversation. I just stood there for a few moments expecting to hear another knock at the door but it didn’t come. I looked around and sure enough, all of the seats but mine were filled. I tried to compose my thoughts and emotions as I walked over and sat down at the table. My nerves were swallowed up in the weight of the commission. There was a smell of roast beef and gravy in the air. Looking around and seeing all enjoying each other’s company made me feel very comfortable - more so than I would have expected, considering the circumstances.

  I must have been overwhelmed as I set the food on the table. Before I knew it they all quieted down and all attention turned to me. I was quite startled, but then remembered that it was a dinner party, and not only was I host to a table full of guests, but guest from more than two and a half millennium ago, that happen to be the fathers of modern philosophy. I figured as host I should say something to start off the meal.

  I felt overcome by a sense of awe and anxiety as I looked around the table. A moment seemed like hours, but finally I said, “I am more than humbled and feel especially honored to have you in my home. I hope that you all feel welcome and in good company, because I believe the best of company it is. I am very eager to get to know you, and enjoy this wonderful evening together.”

  A gentle sort of silence permeated the room, compelled but also enabled I continued, “Anything you need just let me know, and well… enjoy the meal.”

  The rain gently tapped on the roof and the fire in the fire place danced and cracked. For the next few minutes it was quiet as everyone seemed to stare at their food.

  “Is everything all right?” I asked.

  Marcus answered, “It’s just been quite a while since we’ve eaten in an earthly state.”

  With a sigh of relief, “I probably shouldn’t admit this but I’m glad the nervousness was not all on my behalf.”

  Everyone seemed to enjoy the frankness of my comment. “You’re a wonderful host Mr. Parker, don’t worry about that.”

  “Thank you Plato. Oh I’m not sure why the thought hadn’t occurred to me before. This might seem like a strange question but, how is it that you have bodies right now?”

  Answering Plato set down his fork, “I don’t know all that we can tell you, but we were sent here.”

  There was a unanimous murmur of agreement. Plato continued, “I just now realized it. It seems that we were only a note away; almost as if you were playing a note on a violin and then while sustaining the note, slid your finger up to the next note. I guess when I passed over to the other side the first time, there were so many new things and feelings that I didn’t notice the subtlety of the c
hange I experienced.”

  “Wow, wondered why music seems to speak to my soul. So something like music is the fabric our souls?”

  Everyone seemed to enjoy seeing Plato blush. He recanted a little, “I’m sure I’m far into things I shouldn’t be saying, all I’ll say to answer your question is that music in an eternal principle,”

  There was a few seconds of silence and then everyone turned to look at Archimedes who was chowing down on the roast beef.

  “What? It’s good” Archimedes exclaimed in between huge bites. Everyone had a good laugh.

  Things were pretty quiet for the next few minutes. I took it as a good sign that the food was enjoyable when everyone was too busy eating to talk. I felt relieved about my cooking expedition.

  Marcus spoke up, “Mr. Parker the meal is quite marvelous, thank you. I think we are all enjoying the food very much, but I can imagine you have some questions for us. Please feel free to ask whatever you wish.”

  “Thank you, and yes I do have a lot of questions, so many that I am not sure where to begin. I have always wondered so many things about the past, but never fathomed I would actually be able to talk with anyone from former times. I was informed by letter this very morning of your arrival, and was so busy preparing everything that I didn’t take time to think what I would ask you. I see now that was a mistake on my behalf.”

  Aristarchus spoke up, “Mistakes can be chalked up to nothing more than good learning experience; if you don’t mind me in interjecting?”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” I said. He continued.

  “It is very hard for me to always keep present in my mind, all of the things that I have resolved I should always remember. Even now that my mortal existence seems more like a dream then a constant reality, when my plans or ideas get complicated by unforeseen details, I start to feel discouraged. It has been my sad experience to have given up on some of those dreams or ideas that maybe a little more time or attention could have allowed me to attain. I see, especially now looking back, that there was much more than enough time to accomplish whatever it was I was imagining up. Eternity is a very long time…”

  “Almost like forever,” Archimedes chuckled with a mouth full of food.

  I loved how Archimedes genuinely enjoyed everything so much. Why not let any small witticism lighten our hearts with a laugh? He made me feel so comfortable with his random remarks and silly facial expressions. I really appreciated that.

  Aristarchus continued, “Really though, it is only with that eternal perspective that we can endure the discouragement with peace knowing that we will come away conquerors. The only obstacle that can stop us from accomplishing anything we have in our mind to do is our own will. Wanting is the distance between your wishes and your actions. I might add also, that the longer the distance the more you understand how much you really wanted it once you get it.”

  Aristarchus demeanor softened as he became more intimate in his disclosure, “I grew up a very sober child. In my parent’s home wine was very important, quite possibly more than anything else; well at least it was put before anything else, which is the same. Anyway, at a very young age I grew a strong disposition against wine. Some of my friends would say that I didn’t know how hard it was to resist drinking, but precisely the opposite. As an author beautifully put, ‘I knew exactly how hard it was, because I faced the whole weight of it, and resisted.’

  Even though I was right, there is something else to be learned there. It was not the temptation for wine that was difficult to bear, but the tendency for addiction. I would have to admit that the full weight of the temptation for wine I only felt a few times in my life. The rest of the time the temptation was almost non-existent. I did however see in my own life, that same tendency for addiction, but in other forms like food, sleep, approval, praise or thought. I realized that I only wanted to think in certain ways and agree with only certain people.”

  Going deeper, Aristarchus lamented, “I had to do everything a new way, not always because I thought it to be better, but because it was my own. I realize now, it was so that whenever I had successes, I could not only rejoice in that I succeeded, but that I was smarter than everyone else, either by my idea being more practical or that my great abilities allowed me to have more success even with less practicality...” Aristarchus seemed to shrink ever so slightly in shame, not shame that was still present, but the consciousness of the mark it had made.

  I caught myself so focused on how I saw in my life what Aristarchus was saying. I kind of tuned everything else out. Memories of myself proving my way was always better came flooding in. When he stopped, suddenly I remembered all of the others at the table I felt a little embarrassed. He must have sensed it because he assured, “Don’t worry,” and winked.

  “I don’t want to rush you…” I somewhat awkwardly stuttered, “I mean I’m just enjoying everything. The night is long and there will be enough time, right? Like you said ‘eternity is a very long time.’” Everyone laughed again.

  It was such a warm and inviting group. I very much enjoyed their company. Aristarchus was not the only one who spoke; I wish I could remember every word that was said. I remember there were a few jokes and I believe things got more serious when Plato spoke again.

  “Parker, you had mentioned it must be different after transcending from this world to the next, and there are many differences that are quite entertaining, but if you don’t mind, I had a thought I would like to share, that I do not want to forget.”

  I nodded and Plato continued, “There was a very interesting philosophy of our time that was puzzled to me why it was so easy to believe. That is the paradox of the tortoise and the Achilles. It says that the Achilles or Greek soldier from one hundred feet behind the tortoise will never be able to run passed the tortoise, who moves ten times slower. Because when the soldier runs one hundred feet, the tortoise has run ten. When the soldier then runs those ten, then the tortoise in that same time has already gone one. When the soldier runs that one foot, the tortoise has gone another tenth of a foot and so on. The Achilles, although he reaches very quickly the spot where the tortoise was; the tortoise has already moved on. And that was always the case, giving the conclusion that the Achilles would never pass the tortoise.

  I knew it was false because my own experience tells me that something that continues faster than something else will pass it at some point. I just didn’t care enough to figure out how to best prove it wrong. The promoters of that philosophy had to of known it was wrong or didn’t care whether it was wrong or not. I realized even if I disproved them, the same people would still continue to follow them. Following a person is a lot easier than a principle.

  Some people just want someone to follow, to be part of a clique rather than having understanding and truth. I realized after some thought, that the problem was that the parameters were changing, the measurement of time was decreasing until it was essentially zero. Looking back,” he said with a chuckled and shaking his head. “I could have stumbled upon calculus if I had given the paradox more thought. I learned it is wise to not dismiss a failure in application and miss an insight in principle.”

  There was some light-hearted laughter. Archimedes was still half laughing as he spoke up, “It makes me laugh every time I think back on how many times I was so close to discovering the same thing.”

  “About calculus?” I asked.

  “Actually I was still trying to figure out who would win the race between a turtle and a tortoise. I would say turtle but I’ve seen some big torti!”

  More and more throughout the night I wished I could see what was going on in Archimedes’ head, even if just for a few minutes.

  Shaking his head in feigned disbelief at Archimedes, Plato continued, “After I figured out the truth of the fallacy of the tortoise and the Achilles, I stopped thinking about it. I know now, that fallacy was there to make me think about it, not with the purpose simply to judge the person who said it, but to understand something bigger.
But back to the reason I bring it up; the lesson to be learned is to watch for the parameters, consistency is the key. Convenience can be a hard thing to leave out of the equation of the pursuit of truth and understanding; some things would be very convenient if they were or weren’t true. We shouldn’t try to twist our own logic to attempt to justify our debaucheries.”

  In almost a sigh Plato took a deep breath and then continued, “There is a lot in the world that is relative, but what I have learned, is that there is only one exact answer for each question in regard to principles. If you ask where you are in this instant, you have an exact location in time and space with an exact direction and speed, whether it is difficult or not to calculate it. More important though than your location, direction and speed in time and space, is your location, direction and speed in the eternities; who you are becoming. Remember, God doesn’t measure time in minutes or seconds, but in the degrees closer to him we are, and the straighter and stronger our foundation is.

  When you try to calculate your position relative to other people in this mortal existence, you are looking at a very small scale, and from a very mortal perspective. Once you cross over to the other side, those truths of your exact location, direction and speed will not be able to be ignored, even as much as we would rather not know.” Plato said and paused. I felt a calmness and a reverence pass over and through me.

  Plato looked straight at me with his deep brown eyes, “I think Mr. Parker, you are very good man and your experience will undoubtedly go a lot better than mine, but it will still be a great shock. There is no mob mentality in the other world. There are no secrets, and there are no hiding places. It’s really not such a bad thing, but the change is very striking. The only thing you take with you beyond mortal death is your naked soul.