There once was a terribly serious man named T. Cirrus Mann. He was a very mature adult and he worked in a very adult building on the very most adult floor. His office was very stiff and professional. T. Cirrus always wore practical and colorless clothes, except for the red tie that stood out from his black.white.gray ensemble like the last chocolate-chip cookie stands out on the crumb-covered plate.
One day T.C. Mann came into work and discovered that someone had placed a note upon his desk. It read as follows:
"Dear Treble Cirrus Mann,
This is your official invitation to the most glorious and fantastic HereandnowHeavenland. Please arrive at the specified location this evening at 6 PM
T. Cirrus felt a strange and compelling urge to obey the note even though he would normally write it off as a scam of some sort and have his assistant recycle it. Instead he walked out of his office and said:
"Esterynne, I will be leaving the office early this evening, please cancel my five o'clock meeting with the board of directors"
Esterynne was shocked and confused and also slightly allergic to peanuts, but she kept her cool and did as she was told.
At 6 PM T. Cirrus was standing in front of a gate (at the specified location). Over the gate there was hung a sign which read, in reality it was read...signs don't read, HEREANDNOWHEAVENLAND. It seemed to be some kind of carnival. T. Cirrus hated carnivals and considered them to be a waste of time and money. Nevertheless he had canceled his five o'clock meeting with the board of directors and he was very drawn to see how this would turn out.
"Hello?" he called.
No-one answered, "Hey, hey! You must be Treble!"
"Yes, I am T. Cirrus, who are you?" ask T. Cirrus.
"I'm No-one," said No-one.
"Well that seems like a strange name," commented T. Cirrus.
"Only strange to a wise-guy, for He must increase and I must decrease."
No-one held out his hand and offered T. Cirrus a ticket. On it was the word, Pride.
"Eat it," instructed No-one
"That's alright, I'll just put it in my pocket," said Treble Cirrus Mann.
"But if you don't eat it you can't go on any of the rides."
"I didn't come here for the rides, I came here to meet Czar Rex," T. Cirrus said in a terribly serious tone.
"You won’t find Czar Rex anywhere but the rides."
T. Cirrus decided that enough was enough; he had canceled a meeting for the first time in 23 years so that he could meet Czar Rex and he was not going to be made a fool. T.C. Mann shoved No-one out of the way and ran into the heart of the carnival. But there was nothing there. It was the most run down nothing that T.C. had ever seen. If boredom were made into a place then surely this was it. Suddenly he heard a sound that didn't fit this bleak carnival ground. Someone was laughing. He followed the sound until he came to the Ferris wheel. There, sitting in one of the seats was a little girl. She was wearing adult-sized business clothes and she was laughing fantastically.
“Why are you laughing?” Cirrus asked.
“I think it’s funny that you don’t like this place,” said the little girl, “eat your ticket and sit down next to me, the ride is about to start.”
“I’m here to see Czar Rex,” said T. Cirrus in his most grown-up adult voice.
“So am I,” the girl replied, “And He looks beautiful today.”
“I can’t see him.”
“You haven’t eaten your ticket,” said No-one as he walked up beside T. Cirrus.
“What is the big deal about this ticket? It was free for God’s sake!”
“No. Free for your sake.”
It dawned upon Treble Cirrus Mann that perhaps he was in the midst of a terrible nervous break-down. Maybe all of this was in his head. Maybe he needed to find a doctor. Maybe if he was this far gone eating a paper ticket wouldn’t do him very much harm. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his ticket. It tasted like paper. I felt like paper as it slid down his throat…and then something began to happen.
T. Cirrus felt his suit start to loosen around him. His five o’clock shadow disappeared and his vision became blurry so that he had to remove his glasses. He didn’t need his glasses anymore. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He didn’t need it either. He threw it over the fence. Meetings no longer mattered and Cirrus didn’t feel any urge to check his e-mail. All he wanted to do was join the little girl on the Ferris wheel and enjoy the ride. The carnival which had seemed so run down was now a place of wonder.mystery.adventure. T. Cirrus sat down next to the little girl.
“You’re a little boy now,” she giggled.
“You’re my little boy,” said the most rich.deep.loving voice that has every spoken.
And indeed he was.