“Anyway, the plan is we all meet up here in two hours.”
“Up here?”
“Yes, up here. HQ, as we call it. I have got everything organized for you both. It is highly irregular, but an emergency meeting has been called, and we felt your presence would be essential,” said God.
“Me and who else?” I asked.
“Bill. The general consensus is that he needs to be here also, considering he is just as much a victim of circumstance as you. Lucifer is also going to be here, and it’s been a long time, I tell you. We are having the heating adjusted, so he feels comfortable. We are convening a tabletop, sit-down emergency meeting with some of the committee. It’s not often we do this; in fact, it’s unprecedented that we are having outsiders present, but the situation warrants it. Lucifer has agreed to attend, so it is all settled. And Bill, well, he will be doing what he is told to do.”
“So I am coming up there?” I said pointing upward, unsure whether God could see me. “It’s not permanent, is it?” I added, perturbed that the only way to Heaven, or so I had always presumed, was by dying.
“No,” laughed God, “don’t worry about it; leave that to me.” I felt better knowing I wasn’t going to be seeing my maker on a permanent basis. “It’s so we can talk this thing through, put faces to names, that sort of stuff,” reassured God.
So I was finally going to meet him. I was going to meet God. I was also going to meet Jesus, Lucifer, Gandhi, and the rest of them; I was about to, like Jacob had with Mother, boldly go where no man had gone before. It was surreal, it was like a dream. I was two hours away from seeing what no other living human being on the planet had ever seen before; I was going to visit Heaven! In the meantime, I had other pressing matters to attend to, of which God reminded me.
“Now, Seth, hadn’t you better call Maggie?” said God.
“Yes,” I said “but before you go, how do I get to the meeting? How do I get to Heaven?”
“Take a cab,” said God.
“A cab?” I queried.
“Yes, a cab.” And he hung up.
CHAPTER
31
AS SOON AS I HUNG up with God, I dialed Maggie’s number, but not before letting in the cleaners God had organized to clean up Walter’s mess into the apartment. I told the furniture guy to hold on five minutes and to make himself some coffee as I took the handheld receiver into the privacy of my bedroom.
“It’s me,” I said when Maggie eventually answered her phone. It had seemed to ring for an age.
“I know,” she said, “I recognize the number.” I sensed not only a little hostility in her voice but apprehension; she sounded just as worried and nervous as I did.
“Look, I’m sorry about before, but you have to believe me, this has been a crazy afternoon. I thought that God…well, I will explain later. The important thing is that I am sorry I got caught up in things.”
“Things? What is more important than me being pregnant with your child? What things?” She was annoyed, and rightly so, so I told her about the wrath of God and the events of the last hour. When I had finished explaining, I gave her a couple of minutes to digest the information.
“It wasn’t the best timing on your behalf,” I said. The moment the words left my mouth, I knew she would blow up.
“Not a good time?” she screamed. “None of this is ‘a good time.’ I’m pregnant, Seth, with your baby; we’ve only known each other a few weeks. On top of that, you have to take part in the final conflict, which, let’s face it; you are likely to lose, so my child will be fatherless! I should be happy, but this is just awful.” She cried uncontrollably.
“I know, listen, I think we should get married,” I said. It wasn’t the greatest proposal, but I meant it. Maggie stopped crying, but I could hear that she was sniffing back tears.
“Do you?” asked Maggie. “You really want to marry me?” Of course I did; three weeks ago I would have run a mile, but now I wanted a wife, a family, and I wanted… commitment!
“I thought you wouldn’t be interested. Oh, Seth, this is fantastic!” Maggie was crying again, this time tears of joy.
And you know what? It was fantastic. I felt elated. I was going to be a father. Despite everything, the impending Armageddon, not knowing who my father actually was, the guilt I felt for my part in the debacle occurring in Heaven and Hell despite all of it, I was the happiest man on Earth.
“Look, I need to go,” I said, “I have cleaners all over the apartment and a furniture delivery guy helping himself to the contents of my fridge. On top of that, I need to catch a cab to Heaven. Maggie, I love you, and I am the happiest man alive. I will call you when I get back.” Maggie urged me to take care and told me to take a camera to get some shots of God so we could show the baby its grandfather.
Once I completed my call to Maggie, I ventured into my living room. The cleaners had done an excellent job in record time, and there was no trace of Walter’s torrent of destruction. They had placed the furniture where the original furniture had stood, and the delivery guy was just leaving when I returned.
“I’ll take this old stuff away for you,” he shouted as he struggled with the wrecked sofa. I tipped him fifty bucks and the cleaners the same amount. I had no idea who had paid them, but I could guess. My apartment was back to normal; it was as if nothing had occurred. Walter was back to his usual self, curled up in a ball on his new sofa. I was going to be a father, and I was going to marry the only woman I had ever loved; all was right with the world. Apart from, of course, the pending apocalypse, and my cab ride to Heaven. The phone then rang for the umpteenth time that afternoon, and I wearily answered.
“Your cab’s here,” said Harvey.
“I didn’t order a cab,” I said.
“No, I did,” said Harvey.
“You did?” I asked.
“Yes, I did,” he replied.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I work for The Man, and he told me I should. And when the man says ‘do,’ you do,” answered Harvey.
“You work for the man?” I asked.
“Yep,” said Harvey.
“What man?” I asked.
“The man,” said Harvey.
“In what capacity do you work for the man?” I asked.
“Guardian angel, class A, the best there is. Your guardian angel,” answered Harvey.
“I will be right down,” I answered.
I was greeted in the lobby by a smiling Harvey. Suddenly his curiosity and his interest in my life made sense; he watched after me, and he was here for one reason only. Harvey was my guardian angel. He was one of the one in four! I was lost for words; I would never have guessed that the “gangsta rapping” doorman would have been anyone’s guardian angel, let alone mine.
“Yo, brother, now don’t be getting all emotional on me,” said Harvey as I approached, “don’t you be hugging me or nothing like that. Don’t want them folks around here thinking ol’ Harvey is a softy, even if you is Lil’ Jesus. That’s what we call you, us angels: Lil’ Jesus.” I had no intention of hugging Harvey; I did, however, want to shake his hand.
“How long have you known,” I asked, “about who I was?” Harvey smiled and sucked on his pearly white teeth.
“Before you, I have known since the day we both arrived. I have been watching you.” Harvey pointed his little finger at me which wore a gold ring. He smiled. “Hey, man, you made it easy for me; I should be the one thanking you. This was a plum assignment, watching over the boss’s kid. Man, they’re gonna build statues and do paintings of me and everything,” Harvey whistled. “But hey, man, we can rap and jive later. You need to get this cab. It’s outside waiting on your honky ass.” Harvey ushered me out of the lobby and into the street. “Good luck, man,” said Harvey as he blew his whistle. I looked at Harvey and shook my head.
“Wow, Harvey, I never knew,” I said, “I just never knew.”
“That’s the idea, bro,” smiled Harvey, “now you’d better hurry, you don’t want
to keep these guys waiting. These cats don’t like to be kept waiting, and a word of advice,” Harvey looked around, checking that no one was in earshot, “don’t be jiving and fooling like you do, not there, man, especially with that Gandhi cat. Man, he ain’t smiled in fifty years.” Harvey patted me on the back as I ventured into the street.
A yellow cab pulled up to the curb, its hazard lights blinking, indicating it had been waiting. I waved at Harvey, who hurried me into the cab. As I entered and took my seat in the rear of the cab, I realized I was not the only passenger.
“Hi,” said Bill as I climbed into the cab. Bill was dressed in the same style as he was the last time I saw him: dapper. He wore an Armani suit, Italian leather shoes, and he had his hair slicked back. He was a cross between Woody Allen and Al Pacino.
“I see you’re keeping with your new look,” I said shaking Bill’s hand, “you know, it kind of suits you,” I said. Bill looked pleased.
“A lot of people are comparing me to Al Pacino,” said Bill proudly. I nodded.
“Pretty freaky, hey?” said Bill indicating around the taxi.
“It sure is,” I answered. “Any idea what the plan is?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” answered Bill. “This guy isn’t saying much.” He indicated towards the driver, who eyed me in the mirror.
“Hi,” I said. Our driver didn’t reply. Instead, he shifted the cab into gear and proceeded into the city traffic. I was sure I recognized the cab driver, and after a moment, I realized he was the same cab driver who had rescued Maggie, Bob, and me from the pier after the walking on water miracle. He must have been some sort of angel also.
“How did it go for you?” I asked Bill, referring to his confrontation with Lucifer. “Not pleasant,” said Bill, “not pleasant at all. First of all, the apartment became infested with rats, and next I was covered in boils; then he set fire to my collection of Star Wars figures. That was followed by the return of all my allergies, but he saved the worst for the last,” Bill shuddered. “It was hideous, the worst thing he could have done,” Bill turned to face me. “He crashed my hard drive, deleted everything, and he screwed up my broadband connection.”
The cab seemed to be heading toward Queens, but then diverted left, which led me to think we were going in a big circle. Our driver seemed to be double backing, and the route didn’t make any sense. I banged on the screen separating driver from passenger.
“Do you know where you are going?” I asked, looking at Bill and shaking my head.
“Oh yeah, I know where I am going,” said the driver. He turned to face me. He wasn’t watching the road at all.
“Whoa!” I screamed, “Keep your eyes on the road. You are going to get us all killed.”
“That’s the idea,” said our driver who still faced me
“Get your hand on the wheel,” screamed Bill. I hadn’t even realized he had let go of the steering wheel. The cab driver faced us and waved his hands in the air, laughing. We seemed to be going faster. He hadn’t noticed the traffic stopped ahead.
“Slow down!” both Bill and I shouted together. The man was a maniac. How had this guy ever gotten a cab license? Stupid question, forget that; a better question would have been why had God chosen this lunatic to chauffeur us? The driver smiled a toothy grin and winked. I noticed Bill had closed his eyes, which was good for him because he didn’t see the parked truck we were heading directly for.
“Oh, my God!” I screamed, “We are going to crash!” I closed my eyes and braced myself for the impact.
CHAPTER
32
HEAVEN, OR HQ AS GOD had affectionately nicknamed it, was not at all how I had expected. We certainly were not standing on a cloud, nor did I see any pearly gates. There were no angels playing harps, nor was Saint Peter checking off names from a scroll.
The first thing I noticed was the sound or lack of it. There was no background noise, not even the sound of a bird or the rustling of a tree dancing in the wind. Bill and I seemed to be standing in a meadow, and the greenness seemed to span for miles. There was the odd rise in the ground that appeared to be small hills. To our left, I would estimate about four miles away, there was a wooded area, most probably an orchard. The sky above was blue, not a cloud filled it, and though we were drenched in sunlight, neither Bill nor I could spot the sun. The temperature was warm, not hot; in fact, if we were on Earth, it would have been the perfect day.
A gentle breeze cooled the air; it felt like we were completely alone. I looked around again, as did Bill. I scanned every horizon, and there seemed to be no structures or sign of any life apart from the grass beneath our feet and the trees to our left.
“Can you see anything?” I asked Bill as we continued to explore optically our new surroundings.
“Nothing. Where are we anyway? Weren’t we approaching Broadway a second ago?” Bill was right. A few seconds ago we were about to crash into the back of either a parked truck or dumpster on Broadway and 45th Street in the back of a crazed cab driver’s taxi. Somehow, and I didn’t know how, it seemed we had been transported to how I always imagined England would have looked in the Middle Ages. As I continued to scan the horizon, I spotted something far away in the distance.
“Over there,” I said and pointed toward what I had seen for Bill’s benefit, “do you see it?” Bill followed my finger in the direction where I pointed. He squinted and moved his head.
“Yeah, I see it. What do you think it is?” he asked. I wasn’t sure; it looked like some sort of structure, possibly a building.
“I don’t know, but I think we should head toward it. There might be a telephone or something,” I suggested. Bill agreed and we headed in that direction, toward the lone structure and the only blot on the landscape.
“Do you think this is Heaven?” asked Bill as we walked toward the unidentified structure far on the horizon.
“I guess so,” I said. “It is a little different than I had imagined it would be, though,” I answered. “This ground, it feels like Earth.” Bill agreed. We were both a little surprised that there hadn’t been anyone to meet us, and we hoped our cab driver had brought us to the right place.
“Hey,” said Bill, “I’ve just had a thought. You don’t think we are dead, do you?”
I explained that God had told me this would be a short visit, and I didn’t believe that we were dead. The thought had crossed my mind; everything had happened extremely quickly. I assured myself that God wouldn’t be so cruel as to take me away from Maggie and my unborn child, not after everything we had been through together. We continued walking for what seemed like miles.
“What time you got?” I asked Bill.
Bill checked his wristwatch. He tapped the face and then held it to his ear. “That’s odd,” he said, “this is a brand new Rolex, but it’s stopped.” It didn’t surprise me that Bill had bought such an ostentatious watch; however, what did surprise me, was that, as my watch, his had also stopped.
“It seems time stands still up here,” I said as Bill continued to shake his wrist in a futile attempt to get his watch ticking again.
“It’s kind of weird, don’t you think?” said Bill. “Us about to meet God and Lucifer—it’s the sort of thing people dream about.” I supposed he was right. “If you could ask one question, just one question of God, and he had to tell you the truth, what would it be?” asked my diminutive friend, the anti-Christ. It was a good question, and not something I had ever thought about before. As we continued on a path toward the structure, I mulled over Bill’s question.
“I am not sure. Probably something like ‘will the life that exists on other planets ever make contact with us?’ or something like that. Why, what would you ask him?” Bill, who had obviously put thought into the subject hence his initial question, rubbed his hand on his chin before he spoke.
“Well, I have actually thought about this a lot. There are several questions I have, but to narrow it down to just one, well, that was not easy. I would love to know if there are goi
ng to be androids in the future, and if so, would there be pleasure drones.”
I looked at Bill and screwed up my face. “What on earth is a pleasure drone?” I asked.
“An android, or robot, that is built, designed, and programmed for a human’s sexual pleasure,” said Bill, as if I were mad for not knowing what a pleasure drone was. I nodded, indicating I understood what he meant, even though I didn’t. “But then again, I am pretty sure there will be, so it would be a wasted question.” Bill scratched his head, still thinking. “Another thing I have always wanted to know is why was the air on the planet Vulcan the same as it was on Earth? Why could Kirk breathe on Vulcan? I never understood that.”
“Bill, that’s a wasted question too. It’s not real, it’s science fiction. You could ask any geek freak that.” I realized that Bill was a geek freak or had been. He no longer looked like a geek freak, but he still thought like one.
“Yeah, you’re right, one of the nerds would know. ‘Trekkies’ they call them. I’ll ask one of them next time I am at a costume convention.” I wasn’t sure if Bill understood the irony of his last statement, but I let it pass. “I’ve got it,” said Bill after several more minutes of deep thought, “I have the perfect question for God.”
“Which is?” I asked, intrigued as to what had come to Bill’s brain.
“I would ask him what we are meant to call male ladybugs.” Bill smiled triumphantly. I supposed it was a good question, in a way. I certainly did not know the answer, and I supposed male ladybugs often got offended when people referred to them as ladies. It wouldn’t have been my choice if God gave me the opportunity to ask just one question. Maybe Bill’s brain had been exposed to too much champagne, and maybe the late nights and partying had fried his brain. Who knew?
The Reluctant Jesus: A Satirical Dark Comedy Page 25
