Bored Jesus

When I was eight my aunt from Poland gave me a small wooden statue of Jesus. He was dressed in a bright orange robe and seated on a block of wood. He held his face in his hand and he looked bored.

Sometimes when I was bored I would take Jesus down from my bookshelf and I would dig up my GI Joe and my Johnny West action figures and I would play with them. I imagined they were all good friends, maybe disciples or something, and GI Joe and Johhny West would stand around trying to cheer Jesus up.

"What's the matter, Master?" said GI Joe.

"What's the matter?" cried Jesus. "I'm bored, that's what's the matter. I'm bored stiff. Look at me! I'm losing my mind here I'm so bored."

"Well, why don't we do something?" said Johnny West.

"You're so smart, tell me what we should do. Mr. Smartypants. Mr. Cow Rustler. Go rustle some cows, why don't you? Go milk some cows too while you're at and bring me a glass of two percent. Geez, what a bunch of dopes."

GI Joe and Johnny West exchanged a confused look and shrugged their shoulders.

"I know," said Joe, brightening. "How about a nice miracle? It's been awhile since you did one of those."

"Yeah," said Johnny excitedly. "A miracle. That's the ticket. I'm in the mood for a good miracle."

"Oh you are, are you?" growled Jesus. "What do you think I am, some kind of sideshow freak? How about if I perform a miracle and make you a semi-interesting person. Wouldn't that be a trick? Greatest show on earth, right here!"

Johnny West looked away, his bottom lip trembling. "Well, you don't have to be so rude," he said.

"I'll show you rude," said Jesus and he leapt high into the air and just as he was about to come down on Johnny West's skull my mother came into the room and asked me what I was doing.

"You're not playing with that Jesus statue again? Didn't I tell you not to play with that? It's not a toy. Now put that away."

So I put Jesus back on the shelf and went and lay in my bed and it seemed to me that he looked more bored than ever.

About the author:

Chris Orlet is the author of several lost manuscripts and lives in a fortified compound near St. Louis.