Waiting for Dulcinea

Herbert was anxious for the return of St. Peter. Pulling vacation relief for him at the pearly gates had gone rather smoothly. There was a little excitement when Death showed up for a practical joke but most of the time the job was pretty mindless. It reminded him of the taco stand days of his earthly youth minus the smell of grease and the stoned customers. He was becoming board though and was ready to move on to his next assignment;

The shuttle arrived and brought an end to his boredom. Embarking from it in all its splendor was a noble white steed complete with mounted knight and lance.

Herbert took one look and knew that some how he had brought this upon himself.

Herbert was trying to maintain some sense of decorum as the knight approached but abandoned all hope when the steed picked that moment to relieve itself of its earthy load.

“Sorry about that,” replied the knight. “But it did disappear quite quickly. Where did it go?”

“To tell you the truth I never had the occasion to explore that possibility and I would not like to reflect upon it any further if you don’t mind,” replied Herbert in between giggles.

“I can understand that. I myself have never owned a horse much less a suit of armor. I don’t even want to consider the lance,” replied the knight.

“So you were not a member of the round table during your earthly tour,” asked Herbert.

“Why no. I was just an accountant and Sir Sheldon sounds far from knightly,” he replied.

“Well Iv’e heard that this kind of thing could occur. I believe its a symbolic manifestation of the persona you cast while living.”

“Huh”

“Well you may have been an accountant but that was not who you really were. I mean you had a personality that could be described as something other than a, accountant-like, didn’t you,” asked Herbert.

“Well yea. Now that you mention it. My friends often said I was too righteous for my own good.”

“Well that’s a start. Not to sound like a therapist or anything but how did this righteousness manifest itself.”

“Oh, I thought you were going to ask about the lance”

“Oh heavens no. I am not even going there.”

“Yea I get that. I guess the big manifestation as you put it was the whistle blowing that ended my career”

“You were a referee also?” replied a smiling Herbert.

“Um no. I told you I was an accountant.”

“Thats a bit of humor Albert.”

“Sorry I don’t really have a sense of humor.”

“You don’t say”

“No, um, what I was referring to is that I discovered that a client was stealing from everyone and I could not let him get away with it.”

“What do you mean everyone?”

“I mean his employees , his wife, his children and the government, everyone. I couldn’t just let that happen.”

“I noticed that was a statement and not a question. Obviously you had no qualms because that’s who you were. A man of integrity. A man on a quest. A righteous dude.”

“Dude?”

“Sorry, I got carried away.”

“Thats ok. It kind of gave me goosebumps. But yes, that was me. “

“Which explains why you are now sitting before me on a white steed and holding a lance. By the way, if you don’t mind dismounting and putting down that lance I would appreciate it. It’s a bit unsettling what with the pointy end and me not wearing goggles.”

“Oh yes I’m sorry,” apologized Sheldon as he carefully dismounted while avoiding poking Herbert’s eye out”.

“Thank you. Much better,”exclaimed Herbert.

“So is there a name for this type of manifestation asked Sheldon.”

“I believe it’s called the La Mancha effect.”

“Oh, So I was tilting at windmills?”

“Do you think you were?”

“No, I don’t. Although I lost my job, eventually justice was served and reparations were made.”

“Then no windmills were in danger. To tell you the truth I thinks its inappropriately named. I don’t want to sound like an after school special but the world could use some more windmill tilters, um, without the lances.”

“So is there any tilting to do up here?”

“Not really. The originators of any wrongs to be righted are spending eternity elsewhere
but If you’re lucky though there might be a Dulcinea just around the corner.”

“Really? You’re not kidding are you.”

“I would never kid a knight Sir Sheldon.”

Note: Image of windmill by Philip Leara
https://www.flickr.com/photos/philleara/7370580240/