THE FULLNESS THEREOF
CHARLES CHAIM WAX
I loved the snow, but it had not snowed all winter in Brooklyn. I became inspired to experience snow on the high peaks of New Mexico during Easter Vacation. All the other teachers thought I was crazy to spend so much money on a whim.
I dialed information to get the number for Holiday Inn in Santa Fe. I wanted to make sure I had a room when I arrived. I didn’t feel like wandering around searching for a place to stay. I called the number and one ring later a woman picked up and said, “Holiday Inn. How may we help you?”
“Santa Fe, Holiday Inn?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like a room for tonight.” And then I quickly added, “I wanna use my Platinum Card to reserve the room.”
“Did you say ‘room’ or ‘suite’?”
“Uh, well, suite.”
“Balcony?”
“Yeah.”
“In room whirlpool?”
“Yeah.”
“Apple or IBM PC?”
“With modem and fax?”
“Of course.”
“Both.” Then I started to laugh to myself. I quickly covered the mouthpiece.
She asked, “Your name and Platinum number.” I told her my name and read off my Platinum number. “The room is yours, Mr. Bernstein, for as long as you wish.”
“Thanks. I should be arriving at the airport about 10:30 tomorrow tonight.”
“Do you wish a limo to be waiting for you?” I again began laughing and again quickly covered the mouthpiece. The image of some chauffeur holding up a big card with my name on it seemed unbelievable.
“No. I’m gonna need a car. I wanna see a bit of the territory.”
“And beautiful country it is, especially in the mountains, if you love the snow and the cold...”
“I do,” I gulped. “You got snow there, right?”
“Fourteen peaks over 10,000 feet. I should think so.”
“I was in Santa Fe in 1971, or 1976. I can’t remember.”
And this time it was her turn to laugh. I was somewhat offended because I thought she was laughing at the fact I couldn’t remember which year I had been there. But a moment later she said, “I’m sorry. But I wasn’t even born then.”
“ ‘71, or ‘76?”
“Both.”
I moaned, “I lived mosta my life before you was born. But...but...so that means you’re, lemme see...”
“Nineteen years old...”
“And you already manage a Holiday Inn.”
“I pick up the phone at night, Mr. Bernstein.”
“Yeah. I don’t know what I was thinkin’.”
“Oh, I’ve got a call. See ya.”
“Yeah.”
The next night I heaved the duffel bag over my shoulder and walked into the lobby. I went to the desk and said, “Mr. Bernstein.”
“Isabella Dunbar, the nineteen year old,” she laughed.
“I spoke to you on the phone.”
“I spoke to you on the phone,” she laughed. I noticed she laughed a lot, and her eyes sparkled whether she laughed or not. Well, she was nineteen. Why shouldn’t they sparkle?
Then, for some reason, I blurted out, “How much is the room?”
“Suite, I believe...”
“Yeah.”
“If you have to ask...” And again the laughter.
“No, of course not. That was a joke.”
“Don’t be silly. Four hundred and twenty dollars...before tax...” And then the laughter.
When she said the price a sharp pain pounded the top left part of my cranium. I was completely loony. What in the hell was I doing spending so much for a room. I’d be whirlpooling my way to the poor house. I tried to smile but merely babbled, “Very reasonable, for this time of the year, I mean, with the ski season and all.”
“I think you should bring your skis inside, don’t leave them on top of your car. Sad, so sad to say, we’ve had...thefts...”
“I don’t ski.” My answer sent her into hysterics. The energy of her laughter was so effervescent I couldn’t become angry but I was curious so I mumbled, “Was that funny?”
“We don’t usually get many non-skiers.” What did that mean? I could be on business. I could be an international trader in Indian Artifacts for all she knew. “So?” she asked.
“What?”
“Why?”
“Why am I here?”
“Yeah.”
“I just arrived from Hollywood. One of my stars got in a tiff with the director on this big budget picture. She flew off. You know how these temperamental prima donnas are. They don’t get their way-off they fly.”
“Who?” she asked eagerly.
“Not at liberty to say, but she does have blonde hair...”
“Michelle Pheiffer?”
“She got blonde hair?”
“I think so.” I stared at Isabella. I began to laugh and laugh. She must have thought I was laughing at her because she said Michelle Pheiffer had blonde hair. She moaned, “I’m a small town girl...”
“With super-duper flair.”
“Really?”
“I’m in the business. I should know. What do you do?”
She stared at me a little funny and then said, “Answer phones.”
“Full time?” I blurted out, and then realized I shouldn’t have said that. “I mean, is that your career goal?” I expected her to say she was a painter, a potter, wrote poetry, or dropped from a hot air balloon to pirouette down steep slopes inaccessible to the ordinary skier, or, perhaps, even a therapist devising new cures for anomie.
“That’s a good question,” she said, and then the laughter returned. I was glad to hear it again. “I’m nineteen...”
“Nineteen,” I sighed.
“...and don’t know what I want to do. Should I know what I want to do?”
“No, not really...”
An old couple came to the desk. The guy looked ninety and the woman in her early fifties. He held a cane in his right hand. The woman held his left arm firmly. Isabella smiled at me and pushed the key in my direction. Then she turned her complete attention to the old couple.
I went to the elevator, took it to the third floor, and walked to my room, C-17. I put the key in the lock and opened the door. I turned to the right and saw the light switch. I turned it on. I suddenly got dizzy. I dropped my bag on the floor and wobbled to the bed. I flopped down and closed my eyes.
After a few minutes I opened my eyes. I saw the remote control on the small table to my right. I picked it up and turned on the TV. Some guy with a well coiffured synthetically colored blonde pompadour was preaching. He said, “Jesus Christ has the power to get everyone out of debt. Say, ‘My God is a debt canceling God.’ Most of you have known him as a Savior, but now you can know him as a Debt Canceling God. Remember debt cancellation is everyday business for the man of God. God wants to cancel your debt. Everyone of you can have the miracle of debt cancellation. I hold in my hand a letter from Frank Peene. He received the miracle of a $500,000 debt cancellation. His farm was saved. And Pearl Nulle. She received a debt cancellation of $300,248. Her Hair Emporium business was saved. John Duff, $630,117 debt cancellation. If the Lord can open a blind eye, He can cancel your debt. Sixth chapter of Kings, 2nd verse. ‘The iron did swim and the man of God did say, Take that iron and be free of your debt.’ Say it, ‘MY GOD IS A DEBT CANCELING GOD.’ Remember what God wants is for you to be a prosperous person. Say it again, ‘MY GOD IS A DEBT CANCELING GOD.’ Now I want to give you this book More And More absolutely free which is the blueprint for the miracle of debt cancellation. Ninety lessons are in here. You do one a day. They show you how to take those things out of your subconscious mind that are blocking the plans God has for you because a double minded man is unstable in all of his ways. You got to have your subconscious mind in line with your conscious mind. Now there’s a number on the screen, but we’re being inundated with hundreds and hundreds of calls every moment so all you Victory Viewers call now for your absolutely free book More And More...”
I immediately reached into my duffel bag and got my Waterman rollerball pen and copied the number in a frenzy. I only hoped I could get through. According to this guy I could somehow write off this whole crazy search for snow trip if I only believed ‘MY GOD IS A DEBT CANCELING GOD’ and got my hands on this book More And More to guide me to that miracle.
I dialed the desk. Isabella picked up. I said, “This is Mr. Bernstein. I really can’t chit-chat now. Please get me 1-900-345 6789.”
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly. I think she was shocked by my tone of voice, but I had to get through before the hundreds and hundreds of other Victory Viewers dialed the toll free number.
I heard a guy say, “Victory Viewer hotline, Brother Paul Bruns.”
“Yeah. I want or order the absolutely free book More And More I just seen on TV.”
“Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord. Now, Brother...”
“You want my name?”
“Yes, Brother.”
“Bernstein.”
“Bernstein?”
“Steve Bernstein.”
“Steve Bernstein?”
“Yeah.”
“Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord for your safe return. Is the Bible in your hand, Brother Bernstein?”
“Hold it a minute.” I turned and opened the draw of the small table to the right and took out a Gideon’s Bible. “I got it in my hands now.”
“Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord. Let us read together, Kings 6th chapter, 2nd verse...”
“You want me to read to you, or you goin’ to read to me?”
“Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord, but I’ll carry the ball this time, Brother Bernstein.” He began to read. He must have read for fifteen minutes straight. He had a robust voice, but I was tired from all the adventures of the day.
I blurted out, “I think I wanna order the absolutely free book, More And More...”
“What’s that, Brother Bernstein?”
He was so busy reading he didn’t hear what I said. I repeated myself, “I wanna order the absolutely free book, More And More.”
“Praise the Lord, Praise the Lord. Say after me, ‘MY GOD IS A DEBT CANCELING GOD.’”
“I hope so,” I mumbled.
“What was that, Brother Bernstein?”
“I said I hope so cause I musta spent three, four grand on this trip, and I really wanna get that Platinum Card yoke off my neck with the miracle which the book is gonna tell me how to do like it done for Pearl Noodle and Johnny Fluff and the rest of them people who wrote letters...”
“Only through the man of God and faith in Him. Let us read together, Nehemiah...”
“Hold it...”
He was off again. Well, I was laying down. I closed my eyes and let him read, but I mean, this could take hours, days, if he got carried away and read the entire Bible. “Brother Buns...” No response. “BROTHER BUNS,” I screamed into the mouthpiece.
“Did you say something, Brother Bernstein?”
“I did, Brother Buns...”
“Bruns with an ‘r.’ Now I know that ‘r’ is a little wiggle of an ‘r’ so we must take hold of it like the Lord...”
“Brother Bruns, I wanna order the absolutely free book...”
“Praise the Lord. Say after me, ‘MY GOD IS A DEBT CANCELING GOD.’”
“Yeah. Take my name and address, please.”
“Yes, sir, Brother Bernstein. Credit card number?”
“What?”
“Credit card number...”
“Brother Slocum said on the TV the book was absolutely free...”
“And so it is. We’re talking ‘Shipping and Handling.’”
“How much?”
“Nineteen dollars and ninety-five cents.”
“It looked like a pamphlet...”
“Say, ‘MY GOD IS A DEBT CANCELING GOD.’”
“Can I pick it up in person? I really wanna read it, but then I wouldn’t have to pay the S&H.”
“Praise the Lord. All Pilgrims welcome. 2411 South Front Street, Mobile, Alabama.”
“I’m in Santa Fe.”
“The reach of the Lord is long indeed. Do you want me to continue reading from the Bible, Brother Bernstein, as you come to a decision?”
“This guy is fulla shit,” I mumbled to myself, and closed my eyes. I began to breath deeply. I reached and put the receiver on the phone. “What was that all about?” I chuckled loudly.
In the morning I stood and put the Waterman pen into my duffel bag. Since I hadn’t taken off my clothes I didn’t have to get dressed. I walked into the huge bathroom and looked at the whirlpool. I smiled.
I went to the lobby to sign my Platinum bill. Isabella wasn’t there. A middle aged guy with a grayish mustache and a pot belly stood behind the counter. He was smiling. “I trust you had a pleasant stay, Mr. Bernstein.”
“I did.” He pushed the bill to me. I glanced at it. I immediately said, “There must be some mistake. I’m readin’ $532. How much tax they got here in New Mexico cause Isabella said the room was $420.”
“Correct. Plus a phone bill of $126.”
“I didn’t call nobody.”
“You were on the phone for sixty-three minutes.” He pushed a sheet of paper to me.
“That was a toll free call for an absolutely free book, More And More...”
“A $1.99 a minute...”
“What?”
He sighed deeply, “The price was on the screen.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“Need a microscope,” he said, and then he began to laugh. It was the same kind of laugh as Isabella.
“What’s goin’ on here?”
“Call American Express and dispute the payment. Explain everything to them.”
“What scam is this I am bein’ hoodwinked by, my good fellow?” I roared.
“You have to pay the entire bill, but call American Express and dispute the portion from the phone call. He read the Bible to you, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“After the first five minutes he knew you didn’t know it was a 900 number. That means a toll call, not a toll free call.”
“In the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, they should do such a thing...I am truly shocked.”
He groaned deeply.
I signed the bill and asked, “Was that your daughter last night cause you laugh like her?”
“Yes. She said you were a big shot Hollywood producer. Get your fancy lawyers on those bastards. Put ‘em out of business.”
“I intend to do that, first thing when I get back. But now I’m lookin’ for...”
“Julia Roberts?” he whispered.
I sighed, “Sorry, I can’t.” He nodded, and smiled a knowing smile.
