‘Jack be Nimble’, by Ray Cates (Adolphus)

When I met Kim in college I was 17 years old and she was age 22.  That was when I got serious about my powers.  Of course I found other people on the computer, and in media records who also saw the future, or some events, or could heal the sick, or make the blind see.  Not many could raise the dead, but then few people bragged about that.

There were others, but in my studies few if any were like me.  I could do lots of strange things, weird and unusual to science.  So what was I?

In the traditional churches you either were good or bad.  I knew I was human, my sex drive for example.  At age 27 I had ten permanent girls at my house for sex, and had non-permanent relations with many others.  It was not my good looks that brought that all about, because I didn’t have any of those.

Kimberely Vesco was  one of my earliest girls, Jesus had 12 disciples, and I had ten women.  Kim wrote a book at my direction explaining what she had seen and felt.  It came out before I graduated from college.  It got some laughter in the press because it was published privately.  Actually the New York Race Track at Long Island  paid for the printing.  I an my associates won consistently based on my knowledge during a ten-day series of races.  But the press made it a joke, and finally even joke books were written about us.  Win a few races, and become some sort of God.

Her book was called,  The Really New Testament about Jesus Christ by Mary Mother of God.  This was a book about me divided into several books by some of my followers: Mattie, Lark Nuke and Joan.  Some of those name were symbolic and others were real names.  The thing that gave the press a jolt was our statement on the front cover, “This book is not to be sold to anyone under 18 years of age.”  I was an immediate laugh, but not an instant hit.  My book was classified in book stores and libraries in the U.F.O./ Edger Caasey/ Art Bell section.  Of course many libraries banned it, and when we sent them a free copy threw it out. The title of the book should have been, God Fucked Me and He’s Still Alive and Screwing Others and Other Assorted Miracles.  All the writing was done by women and basically for women.

My third woman, that I took home to live permanently was Larkie Simons.  Her parents had a bakery shop and I would go in and buy stuff.  Sticky, fluffy sugar stuff.  I did want to talk to her, but she had seen me come in with other women and she was not interested.  Now I had ways to get her interest, but I wanted her to want me.  i am not physically attractive in the usual he-man sense.  Once i noticed that her mother was not in the shop and asked Larkie, “Where is she?”

“Sick and dying.”  was her answer.

“Of what?”

“Cancer” she said, “eaten up all inside. the doctor says there is no chance.”

“Have you had 2nd opinions?”

“Even thirds, there is no chance.”

“Is she in pain?”

“Yes, It’s terrible” she said.

I said, “Do you know who I am?”

“Sure, Jack Carter, a very rich guy who comes in here all the time to take me out, but you have other woman friends.  I think your too old for me and I don’t think you’ll get married.”

“Listen carefully Larkie, you don’t know me at all.”  I told her, “I have a talent, and I can help your mother.  Would you see me in a different way if I could help your mother.” 

“Yes, help my mother.  Is this just something to just try to get to me?” 

I said, “Could it help my situation with you at all of I claimed something and couldn’t do it?  I think you better close the store now and we’ll drive to your house.”

I could see she was impressed by my car.  As we drove she said, “So you’ve cured people with cancer before?  The doctor’s said 30 days or less, and then she’s dead.”

“No I’ve never done lots of things I can do.”

“So you studied something in college about curing cancer, and this will be your first practical experience, like a girl who never cooked up a thousand cookie tray, in our big oven,  and is going to try?”

“I won’t try, I’ll do it.”

“They’ve already prayed over her.  They said, ‘God’s will be done.” Like it’s God’s will that she croke.”

“No prayers.”

“Then what do you do, stick something in her, give her L.S.D. , so what?”

“All I need to do is touch her.”

“I know this is all so much shit, if you need me to really believe she’s going to be cured of cancer then she doesn’t have a chance.”

“I want you to know I am only going out here because of you.  Your mother is a nice lady, very pleasant and excellent with customers in your business.  If she didn’t have a very good-looking daughter that i want she would not have me out here to save her..”

“Your our last hope.”  she said, and nothing more was said until we reached her house.  It was a plain house in a crowded neighborhood.  We went in and her father looked up surprised.  A priest was in the room and the mother was sitting on the floor moaning in pain.  The priest shook hands with me, and I gave him a little electric shock so he would remember that handshake forever.  Two sisters of the cancer victim and Larkie made the introductions, “This is Jack whose here to help mother.”

I said, “I’m Larkie’s boyfriend.”  She didn’t deny it.

“All I need to do is touch her.”  I got on my knees next to the mother.  I feel force fields in a room and the priest was putting out lots.  I said, “Can I touch you Mrs. Simons?  Just on your neck?”

“No don’t touch me” she said and began rolling over and over across the carpet away from me and the priest..

The priest said, “You asked, and she said ‘No’.  You can see she’s in pain and doesn’t want you to touch her.  I know of you, I think you’re Jack Carter.  I wouldn’t shake hands with you again.  I could feel the evil when we touched hands.” 

I said, “All I felt was that you masturbate a lot, and that Jackie Collins books turn you on as do pictures of Kate Hudson that you keep in your attic.  It’s the big cheese box.  I agree she does look good naked, but she’s dead, been dead a hundred years.  Your not evil, but a sick puppy.”  His face looked like it had turned to stone, but he said nothing more.

I looked at Larkie as if to say, ‘What?’ and she said, “Go ahead touch her.”

I walked across the room and reached down and lightly touched her neck  I had streams of light come out of my hands and circle her body.  The light did nothing for the cure, but impressed the onlookers.  I had learned a few dramatic touches after some of my stuff had met with ‘Ho-Hum’ responses.  Lighting and thunder got people’s attention also, but that time I just did a light show.

The mother screamed along with her daughters when I had lights flash for about a minute.  One of the sisters passed out.  The priest walked over toward me, I had the impression that he might hit me, but he didn’t.

Mrs Simons quit moaning and sat up,  she straightened up and pushed down her dress. “It’s gone away,”  she said.

“What’s gone?”  Larkie said.

“The pain, and cramps and all the other discomfort.  Even the bad taste of my medicine is gone.”  She stood up and walked over to the couch and said, “My cancer is gone.”

The National Enquirer put my picture on its cover (or what they thought was a likeness of me).  The caption under the picture said, “Says his name is Jesus Christ, and he makes the blind see.”  It was actually a very good glossy likeness of a physical therapist at my gym.  In that article I was described as a seventy year old former fishing tackle salesman from India, who ate only green salads and had beaten the aging process.  The picture painted in words didn’t match the cover of a 25-year-old iron pumping swede of about 200 pounds, or maybe it did, if I didn’t age.  There were some sexual quotes from the latest book from my female followers called, The Newest Testament.  They had deleted various words concerning my sexual powers and equipment because The Enquirer is sold in supermarkets, but they said enough so you could tell which words were omitted.

There ware some talk show panels where women claimed to have had sex with me, and neither had, but one I wouldn’t mind.  Several doctors came up with various conditions of mental illness a person has who goes around calling himself Jesus Christ.  It wasn’t clear how these doctors could get this diagnosis and quote full the DSM92R about me, and had never met me or anyone else who had.  So after about 6 weeks people still knew who Jesus Christ was but few thought about me in that sense anymore.

Two interesting things happened — first what i call the Island Memorial Hospital incident, and the other was the Lottery deal, both led me to where I am today hiding.

First the woman around me weren’t satisfied with just eating and screwing with Christ.  They were do-gooders, and writers and organizers.  They were going around the country making speeches and setting up women’s spiritual clubs.  I once asked Km, “Why bother with setting up groups of believers?  And why only women?  She said that men were angry with me.  I really didn’t understand that.  She said, “You can do things to a woman during sex that is better than they can do.  They want you dead, at least all that find out about you.”

But this same woman (Kim) that said I was a marked man along with the eleven others who lived with me, came up with a spectacular event

They were planning proof that I cured the sick better than quacks in hospitals.  They all dressed up like a film crew.  They told the administration of this City Hospital in Los Angles that they were filming the sick and dying for a documentary.  It was an independent study.  They got permission slips signed by everyone filmed and talked to.

The first rounds were with staff day and night.  I would go through the whole hospital and touch each and every one, with the video of course cranking.

I got started in pre-surgery around 10PM right after visiting hours.  I was wearing a doctors outfit and one of the plastic I.D.’s that said FILM CREW.  I just went quickly into each room with another of the film crew dressed as a nurse and she would read the name and disease.  All I did say was, “Hello Mildred I will help you get better.”  I would touch her on the arm, and smile and leave.

When staff of the actual hospital approached and watched we filmed them to, and had them sign off for permission to use their pictures.  Everyone likes publicity, and their names in lights.  We always asked names.

I even went into the morgue and got those people up.  Most said something like, “I’ve been pushing the button for so long, and no nurse came!”  or “Where is my daughter, she said she would stay with me?”

In the morgue was when the onlookers began to panic.  The police and firemen came and I had missed 300 people on one whole floor.  My people were filming on every floor, but I left as the police were swarming in.

There were patients all over the lobby at 1AM trying to pay their bills and check out.  Many were still in their hospital gowns, that tied in the back.  Americans are serious when they want to get out of a hospital, and feel great.

Formally dead people were trying to explain that they never felt better, and praising their doctors.  Some knew their doctors names when before they had almost total memory loss.

Several real doctors were saying that the film crew would have to leave, and just about then real news crews were arriving and asking, “What’s going on here?”

One tabloid that week said in blazing thick type, ALL THE MORGUE GOT UP AND WENT HOME!  Within 24 hours all but that one floor had gone home.  Some people went ahead with surgery that next day because their doctors said it was necessary.  Only 50% reported after saying that the patient no longer needed their treatment.

The net result of that mass confusion was that some people got well, or alive again, and my bogus picture was pulled and spread on the non-iligimate press again.  Several law suits were filed against me by name Jack Carter, also knows as Jesus Christ.  Some of the suits were for millions of dollars by the hospital.  They claimed loss of revenue.  They ran the story of my life in India (a place I had never been), while other ‘news’ sources explained my real life.  They printed  stories about places I owned homes.

So I began going where I wasn’t know at all, and dressed in disguise.  Then I was often reported dead, and I found out that the gym instructor whose picture they had used over and over was shot to death.  The killer Venex Brockton had his apartment decorated with the gym teachers pictures, and spray painted on his wall, “Jesus Christ is bigger than John Lemon.”  John Lemon was part of a rock group that existed 600 years ago.

The hospital caper, although a civil and not a criminal suit was troublesome because people were out all over trying to serve me with legal come to court orders.  If I appeared in court they would get my picture and the other Venix Brockton’s of the world would be hot on my trail.  So I came up with the solution, my idea not my women’s. 

In most states there is a lottery number each week that knowledge of will win sometimes 50 million dollars.  Almost always it’s 6 million.  Now those doctors and hospitals were due nothing, but I wanted to avoid court.  Doctors and hospitals should be glad that people were cured.  Making money off sick people should be a sin, although i am the last person who wants to go around defining sin.

My solution was the lottery.  I knew the numbers.  So I set up corporations, using lawyers where Jack Carter was doing business as: JESUS ONLY FIRST CORPORATION and CHRIST LOTTERY WINNERS CORP, and LUCKY NUMBERS FOR JESUS CHRIST.  In Florida it was JESUS OUT FOR PROFIT CORPORATION.  Florida was my best winner the first week.  That brought in 39 million, but thee were 4 other winners.  I knew there were other winners so I bought one thousand numbers (the same series of numbers).  So profits were split 1,004 ways.  I did that in all the other states where there would be other winners.  Now that made the papers, when you mess with other people’s money they notice.

Now I often live in foreign countries that have running water, where I can’t be found.  I really don’t know why I can do so many things others can’t do.  I don’t know how long I’ll live.  I do know I’ve lived many times before, but I do not know exactly everything about all those times. 

I have my limits even in the existence as Jack.  Even as a child my parents changed what they called me in almost every town and as a teenager I used the name Don Baxley. 

I know my influence is greater when I am right in front of the problem.  I know that things that I try to do don’t always turn out perfect, like the hospital thing and the lottery — but some good things came to me because of what I did. 

My powers are exercised simply it is as if you want something and it materialized.   Not generally out of thin air, but it may be a girl who approaches me, and says, “I am interested in you, if you are interested in me?”  How could it be better.  I hope to God they’re all wrong about me being Jesus Christ.  I know for a fact that I don’t go around preaching and I don’t anoy the government.  I sure don’t want to die with spikes nailed in my hands.  Overdoses on Valium would be a much better end.  I have learned in this life that going around making people well is not really appreciated — but it does get girls.

The press haven’t found me in more than two years.  Mexico is an easy country to live in, but I get bored easily.  I now have at least ten children as Jack, and several more on the way.  I don’t know if they have any powers, but the house is fire proofed as much as can be.

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Contact Ray Cates at: rcates2@cox.net  or fax him at: 1-352-629-1573 

Stories in this same series are:

http://jackstricks.wordpress.com

http://youngdevil.wordpress.com

http://devilsanddemons.wordpress.com

LINKS  TO OTHER STORIES BY RAY CATES ARE AT THE END OF THE STORY ‘TEETH’ : http://unsightlyteeth.wordpress.com

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