The Beginning (Jessica Christ Book 1)

by H. Claire Taylor

  “Um. Nothing much. Just that God sent you to tell her I was his child.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Yep. Messenger from God. Guilty!” He chuckled and lifted his hands briefly from the steering wheel in a don’t-shoot motion. “What else?”

  Jess knew better than to mention the way Destinee had griped about him over the years. “That’s about it.”

  “All right, all right … She’d just mentioned that you wanted to meet me, so I was wondering why that might be.”

  Jess shrugged. “I wanted to meet someone else who’d actually met my dad.”

  Jimmy nodded gravely. “Daddy issues. May they unite us all.”

  “I don’t have daddy issues,” she protested. She wasn’t sure what exactly daddy issues were, but the way Jimmy said it made it sound like something bad.

  He sighed and shook his head slowly. “No, trust me, Jessica. You have daddy issues, whether you realize it or not.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “Huh?”

  “God. When he talked to you, did you see him or just hear him?”

  “Oh, I saw Him. Hard to miss Him, actually.” Jimmy chuckled to himself, but she wasn’t sure why that was funny.

  “What did he look like?”

  Jimmy’s head stayed facing forward while his eyes shifted sideways in his skull to glance down at her. There was a moment’s hesitation. “Uh … well, He was … He had brown hair.”

  It was almost nothing, but it was more than she’d ever gotten about the way God looked, and she chomped at it like a starving gator would a slice of white bread. “Like mine?”

  “Umm, a little darker. And coarser.”

  They turned into the Dairy Queen parking lot.

  “And what about his eyes?”

  Jimmy squinted and pouted his lips while he accessed his memory. “Brown, I think.”

  “Like mine!” She actually looked like God! She hadn’t expected it to be such a big relief.

  But that was all he said before he shut off the engine and opened the driver’s door.

  Jess followed suit, and climbed out of the truck. She wanted to keep shooting off questions, but she knew adults got sick of that quickly, and she didn’t want Jimmy to get sick of her, so she occupied herself with imagining God as a tall brown-eyed brunet and trotted up to the restaurant a step behind Jimmy.

  At least once they were inside, the urge to pester Jimmy with a thousand questions was tempered by the need to inspect the menu. In the end, Jess settled on a vanilla Blizzard with M&Ms and Jimmy ordered a chocolate dipped cone and they waited in silence for the order to be filled before Jess led the way over to a booth not far from the front door.

  As she began skimming off the top of her Blizzard, Jimmy hesitantly began conversation with, “So, you get good grades in school?”

  What a silly question. But then she remembered he was an adult, and that’s the kind of question adults liked to ask. “Yes.”

  “What’s your favorite subject?”

  “Math,” she said without pause, glancing up from her ice cream to see if he approved.

  “Math? Really? Seems like you might be more into … I dunno, art or something.”

  What the heck was that supposed to mean? “No, I like math. I’m good at it, too.”

  Something seemed to click for Jimmy, and the eyebrow he’d hitched up at her initial response relaxed back into place and he nodded. “Ah, I see. God help you with that?”

  She tried to glare at him the way she’d seen Destinee do to men who were rude to her where she worked at the pharmacy, but Jess wasn’t sure if she’d pulled it off. “No. I can do math myself. God made it all easy.”

  Jimmy exhaled and leaned back in his seat before dragging fingers through his perfectly slicked-back hair without damaging the shape of it. “All right … all right. I never was very good at math. Or anything. I guess I wasn’t the greatest student when I was your age.”

  Up until that point, she hadn’t considered that at some point in time, Jimmy had been a kid just like her, and the mention of him being her age exposed her to a new set of questions she wanted to rapid-fire at him all at once. Maybe she could even learn something about him that helped her understand why God had chosen him as His messenger. She had so many riddles in her life, it might be nice to put one to rest.

  She remembered her Devil List, which she’d become rather lax on after it’d repeatedly proved itself useless in helping her identify the Devil, and she asked, “Where are you from?”

  Jimmy bit into his dipped cone, sending cracks through the hard chocolate shell so that he had to tilt his head and the cone to keep the chocolate from falling onto the table.

  He stuck all the coating in place and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Birmingham, or just south of it. Grew up on a little farm where …” His voice trailed off a moment after Jess heard the bell above the front door tinkle behind her. His eyes jolted open when they landed on whomever had just walked in. “Well, fuck,” he mumbled.

  Did Jimmy know people in Mooretown outside of Jess and her mother? She turned to see what had caused Jimmy to stop mid-sentence, and when she spotted the Wursts, all four of them, she instantly shared in his sentiment. But wait. How did he know the Wursts?

  Courtney buried her head in her smartphone, a satisfied grin on her face as she typed furiously. Jess wondered who she was cyber bullying. Meanwhile, Trent bounced around, tugging on Mrs. Wurst’s shirt and prattling off some nonsense order he wanted that included a burger, fries, a coke, and something about peanut butter ice cream with cookie dough, bananas, and caramel. He would order something that mismatched and vomit-worthy.

  It was eventually Trent, his gaze constantly darting around like a pyro searching for a gas stove, who was the first to spot Jess. She tried to turn away before he could recognize her, but she failed.

  “Hey, it’s—” he yelled, before pausing. Maybe he’d forgotten her name or how much he enjoyed antagonizing her.

  But instead of her naming being the next word off his lips, he finished with, “Reverend Dean?”

  Reverend Dean? Could Trent be mistaking Jimmy with someone else? Maybe a brother who looked like him? She knew Jimmy went to church, but even with her minimal understanding of what a reverend actually was, Jimmy didn’t fit the bill. Not one bit.

  Jess kept her back to the Wursts, but she could feel their approach. Her eyes darted up to Jimmy, who shifted in his seat, sitting up straighter now, carefully setting his dipped cone on the table before wiping the chocolate from his hands onto his napkin. Something had changed about him, and not just his posture. His face softened but his jaw strengthened, and he looked confidently toward the Wursts as a small, gentle smile landed gracefully on his lips.

  “Reverend,” said a man’s voice that she’d never heard before. She’d only ever seen Mr. Wurst that one unfortunate time—and never in person. He looked much more dignified with clothes on, though, especially a police uniform like the one he was wearing as he stood next to the table, towering over her as she continued to silently spoon ice cream into her mouth.

  Jimmy stood from the booth and extended his hand. “Chief Wurst. What a surprise.” The panic that had slipped onto Jimmy’s face moments before was nowhere to be seen now. He nodded at Mrs. Wurst. “Ruth. Good to see you again.”

  “It’s been since last Sunday since I’ve seen you,” she blurted stiffly.

  A thin cord of a muscle flexed in Jimmy’s neck. “Indeed.” Was he as confused by her greeting as Jess was? Jimmy turned his attention back to the police chief. “I didn’t realize you lived in Mooretown,” he said conversationally.

  Mr. Wurst stood closest to the table, his wife a few steps behind, a hand on each of her children’s shoulder, which Jess suspected had more to do with holding them still than any affection for the two monsters.

  Courtney’s attention was no longer on her phone, and she looked like she smelled a rotten egg as she crinkled her nose and stared at Jessica. Trent appeared confused as his att
ention jumped back and forth between the two occupants at the table.

  “Sure am, Reverend. Born and raised here.”

  “And you make the drive to Midland every weekend?”

  Mr. Wurst nodded confidently. “I’ll admit, when Ruth first saw you on the news, read about you on the Internet, and said we need to attend, I was skeptical. But now I’d drive to Carlsbad each week if it meant hearing your sermons.”

  Jimmy swallowed hard. “Carlsbad? Why Carlsbad?” The words broke rhythm with the easy conversation, coming out quickly and curtly.

  Mr. Wurst seemed to notice the deviation, too, and he frowned and shook his head, blinking quickly. “Just … it was just an example.”

  “Ah yes, an example. Never been to Carlsbad myself. Never had any interest. None at all.”

  “What’re you doing with Jessica?” Trent finally blurted. Mrs. Wurst’s fingers dug into her son’s shoulder and he flinched and moaned softly.

  “Oh, psh.” Jimmy waved off Trent playfully. “Come now … little boy,”—Jimmy’s inability to remember Trent’s name provided a welcome dose, albeit a small one, of satisfaction for Jess—“if you’d been paying attention to my sermons, you would already know.”

  The rest of the Wursts nodded knowingly, but considering they’d just been waiting with equally eager expressions for Jimmy’s response, Jess decided they were full of it and felt another jolt of satisfaction at seeing Trent’s entire family hang him out to dry.

  Trent remained speechless and then Jimmy said words that made zero sense to Jess. “Sumus omnes porcos, sed Deus est Aper.”

  Mr. Wurst chuckled deep in his chest and rustled Trent’s silky blond hair like he’d expected Jimmy to say that.

  Who in her father’s name would’ve expected Jimmy to say that nonsense? Those weren’t words. At least not English words. What the heck?

  But Trent acted like he understood, ahh-ing and nodding slowly before chuckling cruelly like he was actually in on the joke. Courtney smiled smugly at Jess, and Mrs. Wurst’s nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply and shifted where she stood, her eyes like laser beams as they swept over Jimmy from head to foot to head again.

  “Well, we won’t keep you two, then,” Mr. Wurst said. “See you tomorrow, Reverend.”

  “Yes. Look forward to it.” Jimmy nodded one last time to the Mooretown Police Chief, who then herded his family away from the table.

  Once Jimmy settled himself back into the booth, Jess rounded on him. “You’re a reverend?”

  Jimmy nodded proudly. “Sure am. Reverend Jimmy Dean. If only my mom could see me now … that hag.”

  “What were those words you said just a second ago?”

  “Huh?” He picked up his cone, which now had snow-white cream melting out from under the chocolate and dripping down the sides. He licked it up and slurped out the rest of the liquid before starting on the chocolate exterior again.

  “That thing you said. What did it mean?”

  He waved her off. “Aw, nothing. Just a Bible thing. You probably already know it.”

  “How would I already know it?”

  “Well, it’s probably something God’s already taught you. I, uh, well, your mother said you can talk to Him.”

  Jess nodded. “Sure, but he doesn’t really teach me things.”

  Jimmy reclined and threw an arm over the back of the booth. “So you don’t know about the Bible? You don’t know about God’s Word?”

  She shrugged. “I mean, I know some of his words. Sometimes I feel like he never shuts up.”

  Jimmy chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.” Then a thought seemed to occur to him, and he leaned forward, his brows furrowing slightly. “Hey, what would you say about coming to church with me sometime?”

  Jess froze with the spoon in her mouth. Church? Why would she go to church? She dipped the spoon back into the cup and cocked her head slightly to the side. “I don’t know …”

  He smacked the table excitedly. “Oh come on! It would be fun! Your mom is welcome to come with you. Y’all would be my guests of honor!”

  While there were big possibilities around that idea—Jess being the guest of honor at a church where the Wursts apparently went—something about it still didn’t feel right.

  He held up his left palm, reassuringly. “No need to give a yes or no right away. Just think about it. You are always welcome in my church.” He sighed. “You know, I understand you’re God’s daughter, but since I was there for your birth, I’ve always sort of thought of you as my daughter, too. I mean, as much as I can, considering this is the first time I’ve seen you since you were a fresh little slimeball.”

  “Huh?”

  “When you were born. You were … wait, how old are you?”

  “Nine.”

  “Ah, right. Okay. So you probably don’t know about babies and all that yet. Well, never mind. The point is that I feel protective of you, like a father would. And I just want what’s best for you, so if you decide to come visit the White Light Church, there’ll always be a place for you in the pews.”

  Jess felt warmth radiating from his smile that seemed to penetrate her chest. Okay, so she couldn’t cross off his name from her mental Devil List, but surely the daughter of God couldn’t feel this sort of glowing affection for the Devil himself. And he thought of her as his daughter. Could she think of him as a father? Sure, she technically already had a father, but she never saw him in the flesh. Maybe Jimmy really could be like a dad to her, because at least he was here, walking and talking.

  Right on cue, He showed up.

  JIMMY IS NO FATHER TO YOU.

  Have you ever taken me to ice cream?

  NO, BUT AT LEAST I DON’T CONSTANTLY ASK YOUR MOTHER FOR MONEY LIKE HE DOES.

  You don’t exactly chip in, either.

  TRUST ME, JIMMY IS NO ONE TO GROW ATTACHED TO.

  You’re just jealous that I like him better.

  “Jess?”

  “Huh?”

  Jimmy was looking at her strangely. She’d spaced out again.

  “Did you … wait. Were you … are you talking to Him?”

  Not wanting to divulge her thoughts, she shook her head. “No, just thinking about school.”

  “Ah. Okay.” But he didn’t seem convinced as he flicked the last bit of his cone into his mouth and crunched down. “Well, I really do need to get back to Midland and finish my sermon for tomorrow. Shall we?”

  Jess scooped the rest of her ice cream into her mouth and nodded enthusiastically, then the two of them slid out of the booth, tossed their trash, and headed out toward the truck, but not before Jimmy threw a quick wave to the Wursts, who waved back enthusiastically from the booth at the opposite side of the restaurant.

  As Jimmy drove Jess home, he regaled her with stories from his early years on the road. She listened quietly as he conjured scenes she could practically smell and taste. When he described his year in the Ozark Mountains, going door-to-door for the IRS (whatever that was), she could hear the crisp air as it sifted through the dense foliage and created soft ripples across the surface of a spring-fed stream. And when he described the day he’d walked off a construction site in the Bayou after a gator snuck up and nearly chomped his left foot, Jessica could see the individual speckles around the alligator’s nose, smell the earthy must of the swamp, feel sweat-soaked clothes clinging to her body.

  “Then where did you go?” she asked.

  “Ehh … West. A story for another time.” He grinned confidently at her as they pulled into the McCloud driveway. “Well, it was a pleasure. Sorry it took this long for us to catch up.”

  “It’s okay,” Jess said brightly.

  “If you want, we can do this more often.” He eyed her cautiously, then quickly added, “But only if you want. It’s totally up to you.”

  “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

  He laughed. “And who can say no to ice cream, really?”

  Jess smiled at him one last time and then hopped out of the truck and headed
up to her front door. When she walked inside, Destinee was still in the same place on the couch.

  She muted the TV as she turned toward her daughter. “Hey, baby, how was it?”

  “Fun!” Jess said. “I got a Blizzard and Jimmy got a dipped cone, and then we saw—”

  “Did he give you the change?” she interrupted.

  “What?”

  “God dammit. I gave that bastard a twenty. Of course he got himself the cheapest damn thing and kept the change.” Destinee sighed. “Sorry, what were you about to say?”

  But Jess didn’t feel like talking about it anymore. “Nothing. It was fun, is all.”

  “And he didn’t … he didn’t say anything that you didn’t like or ask you any questions you didn’t want to answer?”

  What was with the suspicion? Jess felt heat rush into her face. “No. He was nice. Why didn’t you tell me he was a reverend?”

  Destinee pursed her lips then sighed heavily. “Because he’s not a real reverend, baby. He’s just a fake one.”

  “Why do you hate Jimmy so much?” she snapped, as an inarticulate rage knotted her stomach.

  The question caught her mother off guard, and Destinee recoiled slightly, leaning back on the couch and crossing one leg over the other. “I don’t hate him. I just … I’m not his biggest fan is all.”

  “Well I like him,” Jess proclaimed before turning on her heels and stomping off to her room.

  But once she got inside and had crawled under her covers, her head began to swim. She hadn’t meant to be mean to her mom. But life could be so much easier if Destinee and Jimmy got along. Maybe they could fall in love, too. Would God be okay with that?

  He can have a say in it when he takes me out to ice cream.

  She sat up in bed again, flipped on the TV to Animal Planet and let a British man’s soothing voice croon on about lemurs until she finally nodded off.

  11 A.G.C.

  “Get your ass up, Jess! You knew this was coming. Not my fault you stayed up late watching TV.”

  Jess cracked one eye open before Destinee flicked on the lights and blinded her. “Mom! Stop! Ugh.” She pulled the blanket over her head.