The Reluctant Jesus: A Satirical Dark Comedy (29 page)

“I propose that we postpone the battle for Earth and Armageddon for a period of one hundred years.” There were murmurings again, and God raised his hands, asking for calm. “I know this is a bit of a letdown for some of you, but hear me out, please,” said God to the assembled table. “I propose we delay the battle for one hundred years, and my representative in this postponed battle be none other than Jesus Christ. He will be resurrected and shall descend onto the earth as expected by his followers.” Jesus beamed with pride. Saint Peter, who sat next to Jesus, patted him on the back in a gesture of congratulations. God turned to directly face Lucifer.

“To compensate you for this change of plan and for all my other mistakes, I will allow you to have your own representative in this delayed battle at liberty without infringement on Earth, which, if you think about it, means you have one hundred years of unchallenged and unmonitored evil-doing. What do you say, old pal?” Lucifer turned to Bill and then turned back to God.

“Before I agree or disagree, could I be permitted to speak with my son in private for a moment?” requested Lucifer in his Texan drawl.

“Of course,” said God. Lucifer rose from his seat and motioned for Bill to join him. Out of earshot from the rest of the table, Lucifer and Bill conversed. Lucifer did most of the talking, and Bill did most of the listening. After five minutes, Lucifer patted Bill on the back and hugged him. They then both returned to the table.

“Okay,” said Lucifer as he retook his seat, “I have spoken to Bill, and he is in agreement with this. I have another candidate, currently on Earth, who though not actually a blood relative, is doing an excellent impersonation of the anti-Christ. I propose that this individual be my new representative on Earth and, when the time comes, he shall represent me in the battle of Armageddon.” Once again, there were murmurings from the table. God raised his arms to quell the chatter.

“Who is this person?” asked God. Lucifer leaned over to God’s notes and, with a pencil, scribbled onto the paper. God raised his eyebrows as if he knew the name Lucifer had penned. “Oh,
him,”
said God and he passed the document with the scribbled name along the table. Each committee member nodded their agreement. But before the paper reached either Bill or I, God snatched it back.

“Sorry,” he said, “but I don’t think you need to know this information just yet. But I am sure you will figure it out eventually,” I agreed, as did Bill, that we didn’t want to know who the new anti-Christ was going to be. God once again turned to face Lucifer.

“Ok, it is agreed. I must say, I thought he was already working for you. It’s a good choice, as he is naturally evil and even looks the part. I suppose you are going to give him a helping hand?”

The Devil laughed and nodded. “Well, maybe I have already been whispering in his ear, but for what I have planned, he will need more help!”

God chuckled. “I thought so.” He poked a friendly finger towards Lucifer. I turned to Bill and shrugged; neither of us had a clue who they were talking about.

“As for Bill,” said Lucifer, “I think he has been through a lot, and he has agreed to step down as the anti-Christ, should this be agreed.” I nodded at Bill and smiled. He was off the hook and was no longer the anti-Christ.

“So,” continued God, “a vote is in order.” The committee would have the final say on the proposal. “I think the best way to do this would be a show of hands,” said God “all those who agree we should delay Armageddon for one hundred years, please raise your right hand.”

The vote was unanimous. It was settled. Jesus was especially pleased. He sat with a beaming smile spread across his face as Moses leaned over and shook his hand.

“That’s settled, then,” said God. Everyone stood, and Lucifer and God shook hands on the deal as Joan of Arc congratulated Jesus.

Gandhi made his excuses and left immediately whilst Joan of Arc said she needed some air. I turned to Bill. “What now, do you think?” I asked him. Bill was as confused as I was.

“I have no idea,” he replied. We were interrupted by Jesus, who appeared at my shoulder. He gently tapped it.

“Excuse me,” said my possible half-brother. He held out his hand. “Look,” he began, “I think maybe I gave you a hard time.”

“Well, I did sense a little animosity,” I replied as I shook his hand.

“I was upset that Dad didn’t want me to be back down there,” he said, motioning to the ground. I presumed he meant Earth. “I deliberately used you to get back at him, and for that, I sincerely apologize.” Jesus did sound sincere. As a Jew, I didn’t know too much about the guy, but he seemed pleasant enough, and I found myself liking him.

“It’s been hard,” he continued. “The last two thousand years I’ve been twiddling my thumbs and kicking my heels, doing the odd job now and then, but I have missed it.” Jesus gazed into the distance. “The dinners, the crowds, the miracles, yes, and even the attention. It was like being a celebrity,” he broke his gaze, “but of course, that’s not just it. I like those people.” I presumed he was referring to the human race. Jesus broke off from his thoughts. “Well, all’s well that ends well,” he said and with that, he left the hall. That was the last I ever saw of Jesus “H” Christ.

“He seems happy enough,” said Bill.

“Well, he got what he wanted; he was the right man for the job from the start,” I said. “I would have been like Roger Moore as James Bond. I could never fill the shoes of Sean Connery.” Bill looked confused, and I told him to forget it.

“Is he here?” asked Bill.

“Who?” I asked.

“Sean Connery,” said Bill. Luckily, God interrupted our conversation before Bill got even more confused.

“A satisfactory conclusion, don’t you think?” said God as he joined Bill and I.

“It seems that way. It went very well I thought,” I said. “What about us? What happens now?” I added, concerned that I had a wedding to plan and my own child to prepare for. God ignored my question.

“It all came to me in a flash, a bit like South America did, I thought, ‘now, God, you’re a bright enough fellow, surely if anyone can sort this out, you can.’ I sat down and hey presto, it came to me. Send Jesus back and postpone everything.” He smiled, seemingly extremely pleased with himself.

“Yes,” I said, “but what’s next for Bill and me?”

“Ah yes,” said God, “you must both return to Earth immediately. But as for everything else, it is all over. You are both hereby officially relieved of your duties.”

“Are you going to wipe our memories?” asked Bill, “like in
Men in Black?”

“Not at all, my dear boy,” said God. “Let’s face it, who would believe such a ridiculous story anyway?” God was right, of course. Who in their right mind would believe any of this? It was downright bizarre. If Bill, Maggie, Bob, or I dared to tell this story, we would be laughed out of town. I had no intention of ever repeating the events of the last few weeks to anyone, and I felt pretty sure that Bill felt the same way. As Ely and Irma had their own problems, I doubted they would breathe a word also. As I pondered this, Bill went to bid a final farewell to his Father, which left me alone with God. “Well, it has certainly been interesting,” I said. “I am sorry if I came across as somewhat reluctant or uncooperative.”

God waved his hands. “No, son. It was my fault. I was insensitive, and it was stupid of me to put this all onto you.” He put his arm around me. “Listen, I know there is doubt in your mind as to who your real father is,” he looked around to check that no one was listening, “but I am going to let you in on a little secret,” again he shifted his eyes to verify that no one could hear, “you are my son. I checked the logs. It seems that Jacob was firing blanks! He was infertile! He knew it himself. I sent someone around to see him; he is up here, and he confirmed it. Something to do with standing too close to radars or something like that.”

Despite Jesus’s attempts at sabotaging my virgin birth, I was indeed God’s son. Of course, God had used the questionability of my paternity to his advantage, allowing him to rebuild his relationship with Jesus and ensuring a probable victory in the final conflict to come.

“Ok,” he said as he beckoned Bill. “You two need to take that door,” he said, pointing to a wooden door located at the far end of the great hall. “When you go through it, take the left. Do not, and I must reiterate this, do not go toward the light. Go left and keep walking. Any questions?”

I didn’t have any, but Bill had one final question. I guessed it was his opportunity to ask about the ladybugs. “Yes,” said Bill, “I have a question. Who is Bernard?”

God pulled his head back. “Ah, Bernard, good question. Poor Bernard arrived here about an hour ago. Died rather suddenly, I am afraid. Turns out, his doctor confused his chart with somebody else’s. Poor chap had been walking around with an incurable and fatal illness for months without even knowing it. Dropped dead on his round. He was a postal worker, I think; I kind of felt sorry for him, so I gave him something to do until I could speak to him. Awfully nice chap, extremely knowledgeable, especially about dogs. The Odd thing is, and one heck of a coincidence, he has the same doctor as you, Seth.” God winked at me. Bill and I made our way toward the door indicated by God as the one we should take.

“She was hot, wasn’t she?” said Bill

“Who?” I asked.

“Joan of Arc,” said Bill.

“Well, it was over ninety degrees in there,” I replied.

“No. I mean hot as in hot in her costume; my type of chick,” said Bill.

“Somehow, Bill, I get the feeling you are going to be meeting a lot of your type of chicks in the future.” We both turned and gave one final wave to God and Lucifer, who stood, together waving. I opened the door, and we both walked through it.

CHAPTER

THE ROOM WAS NOT FAMILIAR
, but the smell was. It was the sterile, clean smell of a hospital. I stared at the ceiling, confused as to how I had arrived here. I lifted my head and sat up. I saw there was another bed in the hospital room and Bill, who was also just waking, occupied it.

“Are you alright?” I asked Bill quietly.

“Yes,” replied Bill “and you?”

“Yeah, I think so; a little groggy, but mostly confused,” I replied scratching my head. I was dressed, as was Bill, in the standard hospital smock, and though there were monitors and drips besides both our beds, neither of us appeared to be connected to any sort of life-supporting system.

“Was that all a dream?” I asked, referring to our trip to Heaven and our visit to the castle.

“I don’t think so,” said Bill, sitting upright, “if you remember it and I remember it, then it can’t have been a dream.” Bill was right. Just to double check, we ran through the events that seemed to have just occurred, right up until we entered the long corridor through the oak door at the end of the great hall. We had done as God instructed and gone left, or was it right? I couldn’t remember. I do know we did not go toward any light.

“Where are we?” asked Bill looking around the room.

“My first guess would be is that we are in a hospital,” I said. I often wondered how this supposed computer genius got by in life. “Wouldn’t you agree?” I said, pointing to our bed smocks and the equipment by our beds. I even tapped the bed. “Hospital bed,” I said, “usually found in hospitals.” Bill ignored my sarcasm.

“But how?” queried Bill, “How did we get here? In fact, how did we get to Heaven?” They were good questions, and I didn’t have the answer to either one. Luckily, Bob, Maggie, and Nancy did.

Maggie, Bob, and Nancy entered our room just as Bill posed his questions. Maggie rushed over to where I lay, hugged my shoulders, and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank God you are ok,” she cried. She looked over at Bill, “both of you.” I kissed Maggie on the lips and smiled.

“Hey, don’t cry,” I said. I could see she had red blotches under her eyes. “I am fine, we both are. To be honest, we were just discussing how we got here.” It was Nancy who told us. Bob introduced his wife to Bill, and I, in turn introduced Bill to Bob and Maggie. We all listened as Nancy explained the events leading up to our arrival in hospital.

Apparently, according to Nancy, who had been the first on the scene of the accident, Bill and I were rear seat passengers in a yellow cab that, probably due to the slippery surface of the roads, was unable to stop when it suddenly found itself against a line of stationery vehicles all stopped due to the torrential rain which caused flooding and unbelievable traffic congestion throughout Manhattan. Our cab plowed into the rear of a non-moving dumpster truck. Bill and I were thrown about the back of the cab and knocked unconscious. An eyewitness saw our cab driver fleeing the scene, and they found it remarkable that he had not been injured, considering the front of the vehicle was completely crushed. Nancy had been the first to arrive on the scene and had performed emergency CPR on both Bill and I. After someone called an ambulance, we were both rushed to the New York Downtown Hospital, where doctors immediately placed Bill and me into intensive care. Apparently we were both on the verge of death, and at one point, the last rites were administered over Bill, and a Rabbi was called to my side. This had been a week ago.

“A week ago!” exclaimed Bill. “You are kidding, right?” he asked. I was in just as much shock as he was. It seemed the life support equipment by our respective beds had been attached to our bodies for the last five days; we had both been in comas. Nancy had called Bob, who had called Maggie, and both she and Bob had been at the hospital waiting for Bill and me to come out of our comas. Two hours ago, amazed doctors had informed them that we were out of our comas, and we were both sleeping. They had removed the life support machines and thought it wise to let us sleep. They were dumbfounded because we had both shown exactly the same symptoms throughout the week and had both recovered from our comas at precisely the same time.

A doctor arrived just as Nancy had finished explaining the events of the week. He stuck a light in my eyes and asked me a few simple questions; he did the same to Bill. He removed his stethoscope from his ears and shook his head.

“I don’t get it,” he said, “you’re both fine. Everything is normal; no cuts, no scratches, and all tests have come back normal. I have never seen anyone recover like this before, let alone two people. It is quite remarkable, miraculous even.” Bill and I thanked the doctor, who signed some paperwork and said we could leave whenever we wanted. I looked at Nancy, and I wondered how much she knew.

“Thanks, Nancy,” I said, “for saving my life.”

“Me too,” joined in Bill. Nancy didn’t say anything at first. She stood, stony-faced, and then she did something I did not expect. She flashed me a smile and came over to my bed and hugged me. As she leaned over, she whispered in my ear.

“I know. Don’t worry; I think it’s great, and congratulations,” I looked at her “about Maggie and the baby.” It seemed Bob had confided in his wife after all and told her everything. At first she was skeptical, but after she had met Maggie at the hospital and had heard the story from her, she began to believe. It seemed her newfound attitude toward me had nothing to do with the fact that I was fleetingly the Messiah; it was due to the fact that, at last, I had taken on some responsibility, and as I was about to become a father and a husband, I was no longer a threat to her.

We all agreed that Milligan’s was probably the best place for us to regroup and rather than take a cab, Bill, Maggie, and I took the subway whilst Nancy and Bob took a ride in Nancy’s squad car. We arrived just as Nancy and Bob pulled up to the curb. I bought a round of drinks from Sean, who called me Seth, and when I returned with them to our table, Bill and I told them what had occurred in Heaven.

After we had finished relaying our story, we all sat in silence. God was right about time having no meaning in Heaven. What had felt like a few hours in Heaven was a week on Earth. It was mind boggling. It was Maggie who spoke first.

“So, it’s over?” she asked.

“Yes, it’s over, I am not the Christ, and Bill is not the anti-Christ. It also seems that none of us at least will be around for Armageddon either,” I raised my pint of Guinness to my lips, “and I can drink to that.”

“What now?” asked Bob. “We carry on as normal as if none of this ever happened? Boy, that’s a tough call. I enjoyed being your disciple,” he smiled and patted me on the back.

Bill was the next to speak. “Well, one good thing, at least. I have found four new friends.” Bill raised his glass of Cristal champagne to his lips, and his Rolex caught the light, glistening on his wrist.

All our lives had changed dramatically; I was to be a father and husband. Bill had found a new confidence and friends. His whole persona had changed, and it was impossible to imagine him as his former self. Maggie was soon to embrace motherhood, and her life had found a new purpose and meaning.

“I propose a toast,” I said and we all five raised our glasses.

“To friends,” I said.

“To friends,” we all said together.