Walter Patterson Herald ColumnistI have some good friends who have a deer camp off of Highway 3, and the other night, I dropped by for a visit.  I timed it so that supper would be on the table, and just prior to the advice that I was going to hear.  If a man wants to hear volumes of advice, this is the place to come.  Believe me, it’s worth about as much as you pay for it.
So as not to embarrass my friend, I will just refer to him as Oracle.  He is always predicting future events like a stock market crash or some other catastrophe.  He is highly intelligent so when he talks, it sounds as though he might know something that other people don’t know.  My other close friend I will call the Interpreter.  Oracle speaks and Interpreter breaks down his profound thoughts into language that we intellectually challenged people can understand.
After feasting on some deer steaks and hot biscuits, we retired to chairs that sat dutifully in front of the fireplace.  Oracle took his pipe from his pocket, struck a match, and then proceeded to light the pipe.  Soon, he was blowing puffs of smoke throughout the room.  He leaned back in his recliner, cleared his throat, and then spoke.
“We’re in trouble, folks,” he began. He immediately had everyone’s undivided attention.
“It’s really bad,” Interpreter offered.
Oracle continued.  “I’ve given a lot of thought to this apocalypse that the Mayans predicted would happen on December 21, 2012.  The Mesoamerican Long Count calendar may have begun in 3114 B. C. and continued unerringly ever since, but it comes to an abrupt halt this December 21st.”
“That is bad news for the planet,” the Interpreter interjected. “Less than 12 days and it’s all over.”
“Have you ever heard of a giant sun named Betelgeuse?  It’s in the Orion Constellation.”  Oracle was getting my attention now.
“How do you pronounce that sun’s name?” I enquired.
“Beetle Juice.  Just like the bug,” he explained.
He took a puff from his pipe and continued.  Betelgeuse is located exactly 600 light years from earth.  We know that someday it is going to explode, go supernova, light up the sky like you’ve never seen.”
Interpreter sat nodding his head.  “It’s going to be bad” he muttered.
“Exactly 600 years ago on December 21, Betelgeuse exploded.  Since it takes 600 years for light to travel from there to here, we won’t know it exploded until the light finally reaches here.”  Oracle sounded like he worked for the Science Channel.
“Now that’s a problem,” Interpreter said. “When we see the explosion, it’s gonna be too late.”
“The Mayans knew this.  They knew that Betelgeuse exploded because the aliens told them.  That’s why the calendar ends,” Oracle proclaimed.  He said this with the conviction of a man who had figured this whole thing out.
“The aliens like South America. They knew a lot of stuff, and they told the Mayans,” Interpreter explained.
“Just before we see the explosion, a greenish fog is going to settle over the earth.  It’ll be like something we never seen.  Now most scientists don’t think very much is going to happen, but believe me, Walter Patterson, they are wrong.”  Oracle was getting a little worked up.
“Scientists are not always right,” Interpreter said.  “They are wrong about this.”
“Two minutes past midnight, it’s all over.  Betelgeuse has engulfed the earth with a firestorm that stretches all the way to the sun. The calendar is right.  Time ends on December 21st.”  There was a tone of sadness in Oracle’s voice.
“You can’t get prepared for this,” Interpreter explained.
“How do you know all of these things?” I asked.
“It’s a gift.  I’ve always had it.”
“He’s always had it,” Interpreter explained.  “Even when he was a little boy.  I’ve known him all his life.”
Now I was depressed.  The wise men of the deer camp had proclaimed that December 21 was in fact doomsday.  I felt a little sick to my stomach. How was I going to prepare Miss Judy for the end?
I thanked them for a nice meal and headed for the front porch.  Oracle followed. Just as I stepped onto the grass and headed for my truck, Oracle said, “It looks like there's going to be some water in that creek next to the T-Model stand.  Come on down after Christmas, and we’ll shoot some ducks.”
My depression faded. The world once again had order.  The green fog had lifted,  Betelgeuse was back in its orbit, and ducks would be flying after Christmas.
Earth was once again a fine place to live.  Merry Christmas!