The Reluctant Jesus: A Satirical Dark Comedy (23 page)

I HAD TO CONCEDE THAT
I had no case for legally striking. Therefore, if I did strike, then God was entitled to condemn me to the pit. I had no choice; I would have to go up against Bill at Space Invaders, and I would lose and be condemned to the pit. No matter which way I looked at it, I was headed for the pit.

Before Walter had returned to purring and meowing, God had given me one final piece of bad news. The final conflict would be taking place earlier than I had expected. Not that it made much difference, as no matter when it was to occur, I was going to get creamed. All it meant to me was that my centuries of turmoil would begin earlier. God, despite my obvious belief that I was going to lose him the earth, appeared unconcerned. I hoped he wasn’t relying on the prophecy of the Bible, especially as we both knew Satan had no intention of complying with what it had foretold. I suspected God had other planets spread amongst the vastness of the Universe which needed his attention; maybe he thought he could start again, and maybe he secretly hoped he could abandon the earth and the headaches it gave him and simply move on. It turned out it was neither. God had faith in me; he genuinely thought I could do it. He was convinced I would prevail. He told me if David could slay Goliath, then I could beat Bill. I was his son, I came from good stock, and he believed in me. I was touched by his faith in me, but it was entirely misguided. Bill would pulverize me, and now I had the added guilt of letting down my father, who believed in me.

And then the miracle occurred. I would not usually call an unannounced visit, especially from her, a miracle, more a hindrance, and when I first heard her banging manically at my door, my heart sank. The last thing I needed was her further ruining an already ruined day. I was tempted to hide, turn down the television, and pretend I wasn’t home, but, then again, she was my mother.

It was quite apt, I felt, that she should arrive uninvited and unannounced, especially as I felt all my woes and problems were due in no small part to her failure to tell me the truth and full facts about my birth. It would be a final opportunity for me to thank her, for not only condemning me to the pit, but to tell her that, thanks to her years of mollycoddling whilst I was at college, and during my high school years, I should have been playing video games in bars or arcades with my peers, not studying twenty-four-seven. Maybe, just maybe I would have stood a chance in saving not only the world but myself from a fate that was actually worse than death. On top of all this, I considered mentioning the fact that for the first time in my life, I had met a woman who I could consider spending the rest of my life with, but once again, thanks to Mother’s little secret, that life was likely not to last the week. I opened the door to let the whirlwind that was my mother enter.

“That bastard!” she screamed as she barged past me into the apartment, the door swinging on its hinges such was the speed of her entry. I had never heard Mother swear before, and I hastily reconsidered the verbal onslaught I had prepared for her. “That no-good, two-timing, backstabbing….” She seemed lost for words, which was a first for her. “Philanderer!” she finally spluttered.

I closed my apartment door and watched as she paced around my living room. Walter, who had been snoozing quite contently, jumped from the sofa and headed for the kitchen where I caught a glimpse of him jumping on top of the refrigerator, where I presumed he felt safe. I wished I could have joined him.

“All these years, all these years!” raged Mother. To say she was annoyed would have been an understatement. I had never seen her so mad. “And that whore! How could she, how could she? My own flesh and blood, my own damn sister!” I wasn’t sure if that was a question for me or a general question that didn’t need answering.

“Oh shit,” I said under my breath. What had my father—Ely, my father—gone and done?

“Years, apparently,” continued Mother, “years! Right under my very nose! The betrayal! The lies!” She sobbed into her handkerchief as she continued to pace the apartment. I considered comforting her, but the sobbing stopped, and the venom and anger in her voice returned. “I gave that man the best years of my life. He will pay; he isn’t going to get away with this, the, the… fornicator!” She shouted the word fornicator, and I dreaded to think what my neighbors could hear. I closed the kitchen door as not to upset poor Walter, who had scrambled to the highest vantage point, which was on the shelves above the fridge. He was perched precariously, his eyes scared, shifting from Mother to the main door. No doubt, he was considering making a bolt for it at the first opportunity. I thought if he did, I would be close behind him.

“He was nothing, nothing without me!” Mother’s tirade continued. “I could have done so much better than him,” she said, the sobbing once again taking over from her rage. Her last sentence was, of course, untrue, but I decided not to point that out to her. In fact, I hadn’t said a word.

“Your father is a lousy rat!” she screamed, this time directly at me. I decided to play dumb; the pit would be a piece of cake compared to the wrath of Mother if she found out I already knew about my father’s infidelities.

“That’s a bit strong. He did create the Universe, so he can’t be that bad,” I said, implying that I thought she was talking about God.

“Not him,” said my mother, “Ely, the bastard!” Once again she felt the need to scream the word “bastard.” “The lying weasel!” she added.

“Dad? Why? What’s he done?” I asked, knowing full well what he had done. I hoped my act was fooling her; I attempted to sound surprised and shocked.

“Is he ok?” I added, just for luck. Actually, I was concerned for his well-being; I dreaded to think what Mother could have done. At any time I was expecting her to produce my father’s severed penis from her handbag and place it on my coffee table. Not only would I have to reconsider the further usage of said coffee table, the sight of another man’s penis, severed or not, is not something I was looking forward to, least of all my dad’s. I shook the image from my mind.

“Ok? Ok?” she shouted. “Of course he is ok; I left him in the garden with that damn pipe in his mouth!” I hoped she didn’t mean underneath the garden, but a quick check of her hands and clothes indicated that she had done no digging that afternoon. “Oh, he’s ok, but he won’t be, believe me, he won’t be.” The old adage about a woman scorned took on a new meaning when applied to my mother; I wondered what she had in store for poor Ely.

“You haven’t told me what has happened, what’s he done?” I asked again, continuing my act of ignorance.

“What’s he done? What’s he done?” for some reason Mother was feeling the need today to repeat everything I said twice. Once again, I didn’t think there would be an appropriate juncture for me to mention this, so I let it drop.

“He’s only been sleeping with your aunt Marla, the evil whore!” Mother was obviously not holding back, “He’s been at it for years, the two-timing, lousy, no-good, philandering fool.” According to Dad, his tryst with Marla had ended years ago. I guessed Mother was adding her own dramatic vibe to story.

“He told you this?” I asked, suddenly aware that if he had admitted his affair with Marla, he could have also added the line, “and Seth knows all about it,” which would mean I needed to prepare myself for Mother’s rage to turn on me once the anger directed at Ely had subsided.

“Yes, he told me all matter-of-fact like, as if he didn’t care, as if he was getting something off his chest, as if he was telling me he had just got a parking ticket!”

I presumed that Ely had admitted all to Mother because he assumed that by confessing to me it would be easier. I wished he had consulted me first; the last thing I needed was Mother’s dramatics. It was then I noticed something that made my heart miss a beat. I had missed it at first when she had barged into my apartment screaming and shouting, but it sat by the door. Obviously, she had dropped it as she entered. It was a suitcase! Mother looked me straight in the eye.

“You didn’t know, did you? About your dad and Marla?” She walked toward me. Despite the coming onslaught in the Space Invader arena of death and the ensuing pit, nothing filled with me more dread than my mother in a rage.

“No!” I shouted. I had never lied to my mother directly to her face before, but the circumstances warranted drastic action. Mother seemed to relax, albeit temporarily, obviously pleased that I was in no way involved in the conspiracy. Her calmness didn’t last long.

“That bastard has been screwing her for years!” she screamed once more. “He even told me God said it was ok!” She stood with her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Can you believe he would say such a thing? As if God would condone such an act of betrayal!” Once again, she screamed the last word of the sentence. If only she knew that God had indeed not only condoned it but had suggested it. Lucifer would be the least of his problems. The ringing of the telephone interrupted Mother’s tirade. I grabbed it quickly before she had the opportunity to tell me not to answer it. As I raised the receiver to my ear, she whispered:

“If that’s him, tell I am not here.”

“Hello?” I said.

“Yo, dog, your Momma is in da house, and she is pissed, jacked up on crack or something. I tried to stop her, man; well, at least stall the bitch, but she is one fiery hoe.” It was Harvey, warning me that Mother was on her way. I appreciated his call, but a few minutes earlier would have been better. Usually, referring to my Mother as a bitch and a hoe would provoke a reaction, but bearing in mind the circumstances, I let it drop. I thanked him and replaced the receiver.

“Was that him?” said Mother, pointing at the phone.

“Who?” I asked.

“Ely!” she screamed “Was it Ely, looking for me?”

I told her it wasn’t, which brought me to the subject of her suitcase. “Where does he think you are?” I asked, nodding at the bag by the door.

“Newark,” replied Mother, “at my friend Denise’s house.”

“Is that where you’re headed then after you leave here? Do you need me to call a cab, organize a car?” I hoped I was not too obvious. Despite her being my mother, there was no way she was going to be staying with me, not during my last week on Earth, oh no.

“I am staying here dear,” said Mother, “with you. At least until the divorce.” This was totally unacceptable, and I needed to think fast.

“But wouldn’t this be the first place he would look?” I asked. “Once he realizes his mistake, and he wants to work it out?” I said, hoping Mother would take the hint.

“I doubt it,” said Mother, “he never comes into the city alone.” Actually, Ely did venture into the city on his own; this would be the first place he would look for Mother, and she knew it. That’s why she was here. She was bluffing. There was no way she was going to divorce Ely. She would want to make his life a complete misery, and divorcing him would be the easy way out for him. No, I knew what she was doing. She wanted him to come look for her, grovel for forgiveness, and then she could make his life even more miserable than she had for the last thirty or so years. I decided to play the double bluff.

“Maybe your right,” I said coyly, “and he would never come here. He would never think of coming here to look for you. To make sure he doesn’t, I could call him, pretending I had no idea of all this and ask for you. That would make him think you were at Denise’s.” I watched for Mother’s reaction. She contemplated what I had said. I went for the deal breaker. “You are dead right, Denise’s is the first place he would look, and when he realizes you are not there, he’ll probably stop looking; you know how he is. You never know, he might even start the divorce proceedings himself.” Actually, I wasn’t exaggerating; if Ely did look for my Mother (if he had any sense, he would take this opportunity to get the hell out of Dodge,) he would probably stop looking after his first failure. I could see that Mother hastily rethought her course of action. She needed one final push.

“You know, he believes everything you tell him. Look how he was about God and the virgin thing. He trusts every word you say. If you told him Newark, he is going to think Newark is where you are going to be.” I said, then smiled pleasantly at my mother and put on my “yes, you are right, you are always right” face.

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t trust me. Maybe he shouldn’t believe every word I say,” said Mother. “Maybe I have a little secret that he doesn’t know about.” I had no idea what she was talking about, and I blamed it on her emotional state.

“He isn’t your father anyway,” said Mother as if this was meant to be a shock to me.

“I know,” I said. “We’ve been through all that. I know who my real Father is.” I said, my eyes fixed firmly on her suitcase that still remained by the door.

“You do?” she said, sounding surprised.

“Yes, remember? God?” I said, my arms outstretched. Had she forgotten that I was the Son of God? Had she already forgotten that she was talking to the Messiah? “Virgin? Immaculate Conception? Ring any bells?” I said, nodding, waving my hands, and pointing at my chest. Mother put her hand to her mouth as if she had just realized she had left the oven on and was miles from home.

“You believed all that?” she asked. She sounded surprised.

“Not at first, but a lot has happened since I saw you last. We’ve been in contact. My Father and I—God—things have gone a little faster with him than I would have hoped, but of course, I believe you now.” I was little dumbfounded, I had to say, that Mother had asked me if I had believed her. I would have thought that had been obvious. Mother sat down on my sofa and forced a smile.