Ben Ruben

"Turn off right here..." Said Aaron, leaning over from the passenger seat. We took the next exit and entered the town of Raton. "Gas station left" read the sign, it was about six o'clock in the evening and the temperature was quickly dropping. The stars twinkled dimly above and I caught a glimpse of the big dipper as we passed under the interstate. To our right a different kind of twinkling lights lined the rooftops of a well kept quaint little downtown. "Wow, we took the perfect exit." I said. Aaron laughed, part in good humor, as usually he is in, and in part because I'm always making ridiculous statements of that sort.
The light of the street lamps appeared cold and static silhouetted by the gentle snow flurries silently about them.

When we pulled up to the Gas station I noticed a lanky figure seated on the curb looking piercingly through the night. I couldn't tell if he was looking at us, or nothing at all. The only movement in or around him was the thick puffs of carbon dioxide lifting into the air out of his nose. Frost like lacing hung from the bottom of his beard which blew gently in the chill wind. Apart from breathing his posture composed a symphony of silence which hung suspended in the air with my thoughts: what to do, what to say? I searched my heart, I searched my head for the words of Jesus. Often God speaks through me in these situations, usually something like: "What can I do for you brother?" In fact that's what I planned on saying to the guy, but as I got out of the car I looked over to see Aaron was already approaching the man. I smiled as I herd the words coming form my brother's caring lips.

"What can I do for you brother?" Aaron asked. It was very much-still really, really cold outside, but my love for Aaron seemed a momentary relief from the weather. I am blessed to have such a brother. Amen and hallelujah.

"Its cold." Said the lanky old man, or some similar response. He came into the gas station with us and I proceeded to grab a cup for some hot chocolate. The room was tense. The clerks went quickly to postures of anxiety.
"Whats your name?" Aaron asked, and I kept an eye on the unfolding conflict around us.
"Ben Ruben." said the old man. Most of his teeth were missing and his skin was dry and wrinkled.
Then we walked towards the counter where the clerk was peering suspiciously around his current customer, eyeing the hot chocolate in my hand and frowning at Ben who was standing next to me.

"We can't serve him!" Said the clerk. "He's been asked to leave already." THe customer in front of me turned his head to peer at me from the corner of his eye. The guy felt caught between ensuing battle lines.
"He wants that guy to leave." The customer said to me.
"I understand." I said. To my left the other clerk, a young man of teenage manner, was nervously swaying back and forth. Turning my face back to the customer in front of me I said: "The man here was made in the image of our lord and he deserves respect, he deserves love." After these words left my mouth I saw that the young teenage boy behind the counter shifted his posture taking great surprise and awe from the statement he had just herd. He seemed a fair bit scared as well. Now it was my turn to check out.

"We can't serve him Sir." Said the check out dude. I peered at him with a mix of compassion and fierce determination.

"This is my stuff, he can have some if he wants it. Give me a pack of cigarets and this hot chocolate, and I'll be glad to go outside." The clerk sighed and fulfilled my request. As we ventured again into the freezing cold Aaron suggested moving around the corner, away from the door. Aaron is good at not starting more trouble than is needed, thats good for me. So we scuffled around in the snow and Ben began thank us for our kindness. A minute passed and we turned to see the young teenage boy patting up after us. Ben was in the middle of a story about God speaking to him and giving him the technological keys to saving the world, something about Nicolai Tesla, electric bicycles and the cleansing the body of sin. As Ben went on talking the young man joined us and waited politely for a break in the conversation.

"I have to ask you guys to leave the property." He said. "Either just across the street or into the next parking lot."

At that moment I knew that Ben would say something, I could feel a shared sense of dread between me and Aaron hoping it wouldn't be reactionary or hateful in anyway, as was his very right. To our surprise this is what came from Ben Ruben's mouth:
looking down at the kid's name tag he said:

"Chris, I love you, I love you, I love you....and I forgive you....I forgive you for being loyal to an unworthy cause, and I pray that the lord bless you and everything that you love." With that we left the stupified young man standing in the gently falling snow and headed for a curbside seat in front of McDonalds. Sitting there in the bask of a neon light we talked more of Jesus and the hope a glory that we await in our fallen world. We gave Ben our email address, so that he could contact us concerning his inventions and how we might help to liberate the world from the government and oil industries. I hope to see that man again. That night I lay in my bed thinking of Ben, wishing we lived in the same city, that I might help him to pursue his vision from the lord, though crazy as it sounded.