The immediate reply from the girl was another string of profanities, but then, “Let him in! I wanna hear what he has to say.”
The woman at the door lowered the shotgun slightly, but continued to eye him suspiciously. “Fine, get your ass in, but don’t try anything funny.” She moved to the side so Jimmy could scoot quickly by her.
He should have felt relieved that he’d passed the gatekeeper, but all he felt was dread, like he was walking up onto something he could never unsee.
It was more true than he’d guessed.
The source of all the commotion was hunched over on her hands and knees on a small pallet of towels in the middle of the living room floor. Strings of straight ash brown hair formed a tattered sweaty veil over her face, which stuck out from underneath the white sheet that draped over her back to just below the shoulders and down her legs to just above the ankles, covering all her more shameful bits from Jimmy’s view.
This was not how he’d ever imagined childbirth. Not human child birth, at least. “Jesus,” he whispered.
The girl sucked air in rapidly through her mouth. “You got something to say?” she asked quickly, hardly interrupting the alternating rhythm between Lamaze and cursing.
“Yeah. I–I—” He closed his eyes and tried to steady himself against the nausea that was brewing in his gut. “I’m here to tell you that the child you give birth to tonight will be the child of God Himself.”
“See, Destinee?” said the gruff woman. “This is why I told him to scram.”
Destinee yelled and pushed, then started breathing heavily again. “No, Ma, it’s good. It’s good. Now at least we know who the”—she yelled, a guttural sound that reminded Jimmy of some primal cry from eons ago—“the father is. I’m just glad it’s not Jason or Kyle”—she yelled again—“or Caydon or”—more yelling—“Garrett or Denton.”
She flipped the soaking hair back over her shoulder, and a pained but excited expression overtook her round face. Her squinty eyes grew squintier. “Oh shit, Mama! I think it’s happening!”
The haggard woman dropped her shotgun and ran to her daughter, kneeling behind her before diving under the blanket so that she could help guide the baby the rest of the way out.
Jimmy’s knees buckled and he collapsed onto a plastic-covered armchair while he watched the sheet undulate before him as various body parts of mother and daughter poked out in different directions.
Forgive me, God, for ever putting a woman through this. The prayer was a habit, nothing more. But Jimmy made a mental note to say it to God’s face once he got back in the truck.
The screaming and grunting seemed like it’d never end, until finally it was pierced by a cry of a different pitch.
He was hearing the first sounds of life from the second coming.
Tears welled in Jimmy’s eyes, and he felt lightheaded. The now-grandmother made quick work of cutting and tying off the umbilical cord before she wrapped a clean sheet around Destinee and helped guide her down onto her back, propped up against a stack of couch cushions with her slime-covered baby crying on her chest.
The gravity of the situation was starting to settle in. Jimmy had just witnessed the birth of the Christ Child. His eyes roamed the baby’s body, trying to rectify the awe he knew he should feel with what he was actually seeing. “Is he supposed to be covered in all that shit?”
But no one responded. Destinee stared down at her child in a blissful haze, and her mother was too busy wiping off the goo and disposing of the cord to pay him any mind.
And then, once most of the slime had been wiped clean, Destinee’s mother carried the umbilical cord and soiled sheets out of the living room, leaving Destinee to clutch the child close to her breast and croon soft words Jimmy couldn’t make out from where he sat in the plastic-covered chair. But in that moment Jimmy realized something: Destinee was young. Perhaps she was on the older side of God’s Virgins, but she definitely looked like she was toward the younger end.
So God preferred them on the youthful side too, huh? Jimmy supposed he should have known that, considering how young Mary had been. But things had been different back then, and for some reason, he’d assumed God would have changed with the times.
I guess some things are eternal.
He was tugged from his thoughts by Destinee’s now calm but hoarse voice. “What’s your name?”
“Jimmy.”
“I’m Destinee. You can come closer if you want.”
Jimmy approached slowly and knelt down next to where Destinee’s head rested against the stack of couch cushions. “Is it supposed to look like that?” he asked.
Destinee’s squinty eyes popped open in alarm and snapped to his face immediately. “Like what?”
“Like a little old man.”
The girl laughed. “Oh. I got no fucking clue.”
“Should you be cursing … ?” He motioned with his eyes at the baby.
“Oh. Maybe not.” She kept her eyes on the newborn as she asked, “You really think she’s the daughter of God?”
“He. Son,” Jimmy corrected.
Destinee looked at him skeptically, then gently lifted the baby up off her chest so that he could get a good look.
Wait. Where’s the pecker? He was no expert, but he was fairly sure a pecker was something male babies were born with, not something that grew in later on. “I … don’t understand.” Could there have been a mix up? Could he have come to the wrong house that just happened to have a woman giving birth? Could God be bad with directions?
“That’s a cooch,” Destinee said plainly. “So it’s a girl.”
“But then …” He looked down at the baby. Yep. Cooter for sure. He scratched his head.
Did I make the whole thing up?
“Hold on.” He stood, walked to the front door, opened it a crack, and peeked out at the truck. The hog was still sitting there. It puffed onto the windshield and the word SMITE appeared again.
“Dammit!” Jimmy waved off the hog and went back inside.
When he walked into the living room, Destinee’s mother was back, kneeling next to her and doting on the baby.
“I think I’ll name her Jessica,” said Destinee, rubbing the baby’s back.
Destinee’s mother nodded approvingly. “Jessica McCloud. I like it.”
“No,” said the new mom, looking at Jimmy then back at her mother. “Jessica Christ.”
Destinee’s mother raised one eyebrow and looked over at Jimmy, who could do nothing else but shrug apologetically.
“We’ll talk about it,” she said, making it clear this was not the final word on the matter.
“If you’ll just excuse me,” Jimmy said, backing toward the front door, “I think I’ve done what I came to do.”
“You don’t have to leave,” said Destinee, staring up at him. “Mama could make you some coffee or something.”
It was clear from Mrs. McCloud’s face that she would do no such thing, but that was just as well, considering Jimmy had no plans to keep God waiting longer than he had to.
“Thanks, but I really should be leaving. My, uh, my work here is done.” He forced an awkward smile.
Destinee nodded understandingly and waved good-bye dreamily while Mrs. McCloud just waved him away. So he exited the doublewide and shut the door behind him, and as he looked out at the truck, the hog still waiting in the front seat, it became quite clear to him that although he might be a messenger of the Lord, the only message he had to deliver to the world was one he very much doubted the world wanted to hear: God had a daughter. A Texan daughter.
He pulled up the collar of his cotton shirt and dragged it over his face from forehead to chin, soaking up sweat that he knew wouldn’t evaporate in the humid summer air.
Well, when people didn’t want to hear your message, you just had to tweak the message. He’d done it twice before and he could do it again.
He walked back to his truck to face God Himself and hopefully wrap up what had been a long, confusing, and nerve-
wracking night.
But he paused before opening the driver’s side door and gazed through the window into the cab. The tip of God’s tail stuck out to the side of His fat ass and wagged quickly, flapping back and forth like it was struggling to free itself from the crushing weight pinning it down.
God was excited. That made Jimmy excited, too. The night hadn’t been about the End of Days at all; it had been about the beginning. It was the dawn of a new age, just like Jesus had said while Jimmy was sandwiched between those two Utahan hotties in his dream.
A genuine smile snuck onto Jimmy’s lips for the first time since he’d seen the clock strike midnight only a couple hours before. With every ending came a new beginning and with every new beginning came a world of opportunity.
Reverend Jimmy Dean, he thought, grabbing the door handle. He liked the sound of that.
5 A.G.C.
“I only remember bits and pieces of kindergarten,” Destinee McCloud said as she walked her daughter the three and a half blocks to Mooreson Elementary. “But from what I remember, it wasn’t all horrible. You’ll make lots of new friends and your teacher is really nice. I already spoke with her and she’s excited to meet you.”
“Did you tell her about Dad?” Jess asked, keeping her eyes on the sidewalk to avoid stepping on the seams between cement squares.
Destinee stopped and turned Jess around to face her before kneeling to be on eye level. “No. I didn’t tell her about that. And remember what I told you to say when people ask about your daddy?”
Jess gazed over Destinee’s shoulder as she tried to recall the exact words she’d been coached on. “I tell them, ‘My daddy is in Heaven.’”
“And you mean it when you say it, Jess.”
“But I don’t understand why I can’t just tell them the truth.”
“That is the truth, Jess. Your daddy is in Heaven. End of story. Trust me, baby, you’re not going to like the way people react if you tell them you’re”—she glanced around to make sure no one was nearby, then lowered her voice—“the daughter of God.”
“God doesn’t like me denying him.”
Destinee pursed her lips and stood. “Absent daddies don’t get a say in what their daughters do.”
“He’s not absent,” Jess said.
“Well he sure ain’t paying child support, and until he starts doing that, I make the rules around here.”
This wasn’t the first time Jessica had heard this complaint, and she knew there was no point in responding once her mom started talking about it.
So she returned her focus to the day’s big challenge. She didn’t necessarily dread starting kindergarten, but she also didn’t feel especially excited about it. It seemed unimportant. But maybe it would be fun. She was a little nervous about being away from her mom for so long every day—with Destinee technically working from home, albeit as a telemarketer—Jess hadn’t ever had to spend days in childcare. Instead, she’d spent most of her hours watching nature shows on TV by herself or playing safari with her stuffed animals by herself or coloring pictures of her favorite animals that Destinee had printed from the internet. Again, by herself. If Jess was completely honest, she was curious to find out what it would be like to play with other kids her age.
As Mooreson Elementary loomed closer, swarmed by hordes of students and parents, Jess grew anxious and receded into her mind for comfort. Unfortunately, though, in her mind, God was on another one of His soapboxes that Jess had already come to know so well.
… NOT REALLY NECESSARY FOR YOU TO START SCHOOL THIS YOUNG.
Half of what He said didn’t make sense to her, because while she was quite mature for her age—necessity made it so—she had only just turned five.
“Maybe you’ll meet your first crush, today, Jess!” said Destinee excitedly, squeezing Jessica’s hand.
DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT BOYS, CHILD.
But of course Jessica still had no reference for what the heck her parents were talking about. Crush? What did that mean? Was she going to crush a boy? Was that something she could do?
Am I going to crush someone?
NO. YOU WON’T CRUSH ANYONE AND YOU WON’T HAVE A CRUSH ON ANYONE. THOU SHALT NOT CRUSH ON BOYS, HAVE I MADE MYSELF CLEAR?
Sure. Promising him she wouldn’t crush anyone seemed easy enough.
“Is he talking to you again?” Destinee asked.
Jessica nodded.
“While you have him on the line, would you kindly remind him that his little miracle of knocking me up is great and all, but even Cheyenne Forte’s good-for-nothing baby daddy chips in with the bills every once in a while, so …” She let the words linger as she raised her eyebrows.
She wants money again.
YEAH, I HEARD HER. TELL HER, UH, THE LOVE OF MONEY IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL.
“He says that love of money is the root of all evil.”
Destinee sighed exasperatedly and pulled Jessica behind her across the crosswalk. “Tell him— No, you know what? I can tell him. Because”—she looked around again to make sure no one would overhear—“I know you can hear me. Stop avoiding me. You know you owe me something.”
Jessica listened for God’s voice to respond, but He had gone silent again.
“He’s ignoring you,” she told her mom.
Her mother’s grip on her hand tightened. “Omniscient but ignores the mother of his child. So much for the Heavenly Father bit.”
Destinee had always referred to Mooretown as small, but to Jess it’d constituted her entire world, and now that she approached the buildings and realized how many unfamiliar faces lived nearby, she wondered how small her town could really be. She’d never seen so many people in one place.
She tugged her mother’s arm gently. “What if no one likes me?”
I WILL SMITE THEM. JUST GIVE ME THE WORD.
“You’ll be fine, baby. You’re sweet and you’ll make plenty of friends.”
SPEAKING OF FRIENDS, THERE’S SOMETHING I SHOULD TELL YOU …
Jessica waited for it. God sure loved a dramatic reveal.
TODAY YOU’LL MAKE A LIFELONG FRIEND WHO WILL REGULARLY BETRAY YOU, EVEN THOUGH SHE DOESN’T MEAN TO.
That doesn’t sound like much of a friend. Can’t you change that?
I, UH … SORRY, I FORGOT THERE’S AN EARTHQUAKE SCHEDULED IN THE HIMALAYAS RIGHT NOW. GOT TO GO.
She wasn’t sure what the Himalayas were, but she recognized an excuse when she heard one. And it wasn’t the first time God had used that exact one.
The hallways were packed shoulder to shoulder, and Jess stayed a step behind Destinee, following in her wake, still holding her hand until they turned and went inside a classroom.
“This is it,” Destinee said, smiling down at Jessica.
Jess took in the surroundings. There were an awful lot of colors in there. It almost made her eyes hurt. She was used to the brown wood paneling on the walls at home, the faded blankets thrown over plastic-covered furniture, the framed pastel cross-stitches on the wall, the dim light creeping between the blinds in the morning and the glow of the streetlight radiating in around bedtime. All this color made her feel weird. It made her feel angry and alert.
“What is that?” she asked, pointing to a cartoon on the wall.
“I think that’s supposed to be a giraffe. Or donkey? I’m not really sure.”
“That’s not what they look like on Animal Planet!” There was that anger seeping through.
“It’s just a cartoon,” Destinee said, trying to calm her down.
Jessica harrumphed at that and began inspecting her classmates. Then her eyes landed on a short, stocky woman with tight umber curls framing her puffy face. The woman was listening to a boy prattle on about something that he seemed to believe was crucially important, but her eyes were glued to Jessica. Jess didn’t like it. It was like the woman believed Jess would reveal the answer to some ancient riddle, if the woman only stared at her long enough.
Then the boy tugged on the woman’s skirt, and her atte
ntion snapped back to him.
Destinee followed Jess’s gaze. “That’s Mrs. Thomas, your teacher. You’ll like her. Her daughter’s in this class, too. Here, let’s go meet her.”
Destinee dragged her over to greet her teacher, and Jess protested only slightly by dragging a step behind.
As soon as they stood a few feet away from Mrs. Thomas, she waved off the boy and turned her attention to them, first greeting Destinee before crouching down to get on eye level with Jess. Then she placed a warm hand on each of Jess’s arms. “You must be Jessica!”
Jess nodded.
“I’ve heard so much about you! I’m so excited to have you in my class! It’s going to be a great year.”
Once she stood back up and began chatting with Destinee, Jess pulled on her mother’s arm to ask permission to scram. Destinee understood, nodded, and let go of Jess’s hand.
A couple kids were sitting at a tiny table toward the far corner of the classroom, coloring with crayons. That was something Jess knew she could do. She wondered what kinds of animals there were to color.
The small chair felt funny to sit in, but she did it anyway. She realized immediately that there were no coloring pages, only blank sheets. But there were plenty of crayons, and Jess had colored enough giraffes to know their shape by heart, so she grabbed a brown, a black, and an orange crayon and set them next to her paper. She was determined to draw a real giraffe, one that looked like a giraffe should, not like some dumb cartoon.
Two kids fought over a purple crayon next to her, but she ignored them and focused on the first curves of the giraffe’s head until she heard her mother’s voice beside her. “Have fun today. I got to go.”
Jess mumbled a good-bye, but wasn’t too concerned about it. This giraffe, though …
“Hi. I’m Sandra,” came a small voice from beside her. “You want to be friends?”
Jess inspected the girl cautiously. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into two low pigtails held by pink bobble bands, and her squinty green eyes waited eagerly for a response.
The Beginning (Jessica Christ Book 1) Page 3
