The Reluctant Jesus: A Satirical Dark Comedy (26 page)

Message five was the IRS. There were two Seth Millers, and the Seth Miller, who lived in California would be audited. Mr. Mackay apologized for his error and was happy to report that my taxes were fine; I could actually expect a rebate. Message six was Mother. Unable to find a cab in the torrential rain, she had been forced to return to Denise Malphrass’s door for shelter. Denise Malphrass then apologized for also sleeping with Jacob several years ago, and now it appeared the two old ladies were laughing, joking, and comparing notes about Jacob’s lovemaking style, which Mother assured me, were many and varied.

I thought the final message would obviously be Maggie. Before pressing play, I guessed what she would say. She would say the pregnancy testing kit was a dud, that it had been a mistake, that I wasn’t an asshole and ask whether she could come over and have a lot of sex with me immediately. Unfortunately, the final message was from Harvey, informing me that a team of industrial cleaners had arrived laden with high-velocity vacuum cleaners and other hi-tech equipment, and they were on their way up. They would deliver my new furniture at the same time.

I wondered where Maggie’s message was. A bit odd, I thought. Just when I thought that maybe God had forgotten to rectify that little problem, the phone rang again and this time, rather than let the machine answer it, I answered it myself.

“Maggie?” I said, and once again, I was to be disappointed.

“I am afraid not,” said God.

“Sorry, I was expecting someone else,” I said.

“Pretty impressive, eh?” said God, “The weather, I mean. Haven’t done that in years.”

“Look, I owe you an apology,” I began, but God cut me short.

“I know. I know what you are thinking. I know what you are feeling. That’s why I stopped it. Well, the weather I had to stop; I couldn’t destroy the world. It was the same size flood that I did for Noah’s generation. Another forty days and nights and you could forget the World Series,” said God.

“Well, at least now you see it,” he continued. “The cat was Gandhi’s idea, by the way.” I nodded as if I expected Gandhi to be involved in something like that, though I had no idea why.

“I mean it,” I said, “I want to be your son, not because of all this, but because I feel I should do it. I realize you put a lot of effort into creating the Universe, and I realize all the good you have done; you created life, gave us all a shot at things.” I was genuine. I was ready and willing to fight Lucifer and Bill, albeit at Space Invaders. I would practice, and somehow I would overcome the four-time world champion.

“Listen,” said God, “don’t worry about it. To be honest, all hell has broken out in Heaven, so I can’t stay long. Anyway, the cleaners and your furniture will be there soon, so I will make this as brief as possible.” God paused for a second before speaking again, “Everything has gone wrong. Jesus admitted that he let Jacob sleep with your mother on his watch, and he deliberately did not attempt to stop him, nor did he inform me. Therefore, many have raised questions as to your parentage. The legitimacy of your birth has been brought into question. A lot of traditionalists are claiming that if your Mother was not a virgin, regardless of whether I am your Father or not, then you can’t fight the anti-Christ.”

“I can’t believe Jesus let that happen! How could he have let another ‘Code Dave’ occur? What was he thinking?” I asked, disappointed, after all, that I might not be the legitimate Son of God.

“Don’t blame Jesus, blame me. I should have listened to him from the beginning. He was right; the people were expecting him again, not a new version. I thought I was doing him a favor by not sending him back. He went through a lot the first time. I didn’t realize it meant so much to him. I thought by having another son it would relieve some of the pressure. I should have listened. It wasn’t personal; he didn’t do any of this to hurt you. It was me he was trying to hurt, and I guess I deserved it.” I understood what God was saying, but I felt he was too hard on himself.

“Can he play Space Invaders though?” I asked. This had the desired effect, and God laughed.

“No. He can’t. He wouldn’t know a joystick from a gear stick.” We both laughed at God’s joke.

I felt terrible for God. He sounded dejected, and maybe if I had just got on with things, none of this would have happened. The guy was an icon, and I had the privilege of conversing with him on a daily basis. I had a hotline to the most revered figure in the history of mankind. I thought about the churches, the mosques, and synagogues devoted to him. I considered the billions worldwide who relied on his mere presence to get them through the day. I wondered at all he had created, including anchovies and cockroaches, and the responsibilities it all entailed. He may have been an absent father to me, and maybe even at times an absent father to the world that he had created, but he was back and was trying his best to put things right.

“That sure was some show you put on,” I said, trying to raise God’s humor.

“I didn’t think you would faint; that was a surprise,” said God. I could hear a chuckle in his voice, which pleased me. I looked at my watch; I had been talking to God for at least five minutes, and Maggie still hadn’t called. I guessed she would have at least tried my cell phone.

“That’s odd,” I said. “Maggie hasn’t called to tell me about her false alarm.”

“Maggie?” said God.

“Yes, I was expecting her to call and tell me not to worry,” I said.

“Worry about what?” said God, seemingly confused as to what I was talking about.

“About not being pregnant,” I confirmed.

“I didn’t know she was,” said God.

“She isn’t now, not since you reversed everything,” I said, encouraging God to follow my drift.

“What?” said God, sounding even more confused. “I didn’t involve Maggie in any of this. I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You mean you didn’t make Maggie believe she was pregnant?” I asked; the reality slowly dawning on me.

“Not at all,” replied God.

“Then she is actually pregnant,” I said. I needed to call her and tell her everything was fine. I needed to call her and tell her I loved her, and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I needed to tell her I was the happiest man alive.

“You need to call her,” said God, “but in a minute; first I need to tell you what the plan is. We planned Armageddon for next week. I was going to tell you officially, but I didn’t want to worry you. But to be honest, there is chaos both up here and down there.” I imagined God pointing up and down where ever he spoke from. “Lucifer is still furious with his son for his attempted coercion, and I understand the anti-Christ has turned into quite the party animal. Lucifer is having trouble keeping an eye on him. Apparently he is out all night, sleeping all day, and has different women for different days. He has done no training, not so much as pressed a fire button or twiddled a joystick in days. I suspect right now he’s in as much trouble as you just were.” I shuddered to think what Satan would be doing to ruin poor Bill’s day.

“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

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.