Who is Jonathan Clark

Untitled Part 23

                                                                                  CHAPTER 23 

                                                                      NOT HOME SWEET HOME

Jonathan arrived in Boston in late 2010, there was no one there to meet him, he was not taken to the VIP lounge, and there was no Limousine, instead he collected his luggage and found a Taxi willing to take him thirty miles to Bretton Falls and his tiny Apartment. He did not contact his children to let them know of his return, as they probably had no idea he had been gone, thought Jonathan.  Over the next few years Jonathan did not keep his appointments with Angela, instead using modern technology to keep in touch with her, mainly because of his failing health, the doctors were confused as to exactly what was wrong, but agreed it could be something he picked up during his time in Africa. He occasionally met up with Sylvia, when she wasn't living in LaLa Land, attending coffee mornings or hanging flowery curtains and wallpaper, everything in her home  was matching, it was like being in a Botanic Garden. She never asked how he was feeling, just going on and on about Charities, fund raising and her husbands work. Sylvia never mentioned her Grandson Trent whom he had only seen six times in the past three years.

Julian was non existent to Jonathan, but his greatest ally in the family was his wife Jennifer, she loved him, her own parents had separated when she was twenty, and she knew that faults lay on both sides. She also knew the real reason for the split between Jonathan and Constance, he had confided in her one night after too much wine, but she was sworn to secrecy.

Jason did visit his father, although for the two weeks at a time he had leave, Jonathan was not always his first port of call, although their meetings were pleasant and without arguments.

And so this was Jonathan Clark's life, he had moved back into the cottage he once shared with Constance, much to the annoyance of Julian who had ear marked it as his own. He had become even more reclusive and for the next four years approaching 2015, he rarely left the cottage. He poured himself a glass of wine, and settled down in his favourite armchair in front of the open fire. He reflected on his life and how much things had changed in the past seventy years since his childhood. Modern technology, he thought means that no one speaks to anyone anymore, the art of conversation taken over by gadgets, you send a text message, you eat microwaved meals, order a takeaway and it comes ready cooked, use a remote control for the T.V. and transfer money at the press of a button on your mobile phone.

How did it all begin? he thought ,  could there have been a Planet similar to Earth, that through millions of years became vegetated and so far evolved of themselves, that their limbs became obsolete, or had no function, they could be where they wanted to be by entering a simulator, and do what they wanted to do simply by thought, conception was by artificial means, but their Planet was dying, they were killing it.

He slipped deeper into his dream.

What if their only way of keeping their species alive was in finding a similar Planet i.e.  Earth, and impregnate it with the merest form of life, germs on land and plankton in the sea, and watch it evolve over millions of years, with only one intervention.

Jesus could have come to Earth, to point humans in the direction of a God in the same image as themselves and eventually to their civilization.

Jonathan Clark had dreamed his last dream and had entered the longest sleep he would ever take, soon to discover if his dream was true. 

The wine glass fell to the floor, it was to be twelve days before his body was discovered, the barking of a neighbours dog raised the alarm, he was placed in a black body bag by men wearing full body suits and masks, and taken to the local Mortuary. 

It was not the ending intended for such a great man.