Easter is nearly here. On April 1, 2018 most of America will wear their Sunday Best and go to a church to give respects and honor to God’s Son who rose on the third day. Still…
Who is God, why does he seem kind and most diabolical? This short fiction is a combination of pondering and biblical research with a mixture of fantasy but the core of the story remains: Just who is God and does he love us as much as the bible tells us?
Beautiful One pulled himself back from Silver One and regarded her as one would a difficult puzzle. “You’ve visited my planet already. Do you not see how much I love them?”
She shrugged. “I see. I really do. But they are in pain all the time. I may not see the light in my creation’s eyes, but yours has so many spirits in one flesh! They are so tortured. You have allowed them to create their own systems of beliefs when you decided to keep silent, then punish them eternally when they do not know you? Yes, Beautiful One. I am perplexed.
“You’ve walked among your people, whereas I have not. However, I have danced with them many moons ago, I’ve implanted my essence in their dreams and song. I have programmed them to be healthy and strong. All of them have made shrines in my image without having seeing me in this generation. I do not hide my face as you do.”
When Silver One spoke, her voice was soft, melodic. Not accusing in any way, but more of stating the facts. Beautiful One stroked his beard and suggested they stay on this planet longer. They both inhabited the bodies of ivory-toned women sipping coffee at a coffee shop(so no one knew who they really were). It was quiet and some bookish jazz music played softly in the background.
Beautiful One had to broach the subject, because there is one area all humans are fond of. “Silver One. My people feel pain and some even hail it as pleasure.” A sly smile grew on his face. Or rather, a pleased one.
Silver One exhaled and blew cool air over her coffee. “Ok. I’m all ears.”
“Take sex for example. That one act can cause affliction of the heart and can heal it. My humans have choices of how they wish to explore it and many times it goes against what is written. I am holy, therefore they must be…but I am kind. My humans have…rhythmic bodies, souls. They hurt, they cry, they moan and shout and interestingly enough, these same outward cries of pain can be one of pleasure. Oftentimes, even under a vow when their bodies belong to just that one, they share their bodies with another. Now their souls are split in two because they still love their first, although they will not admit it. What a funny lot!”
“Hopeless, Beautiful One. You are hopeless. You can regulate their pleasure. Make them faithful only to that one.”
“Silver One,” Beautiful One smiled and sipped a bit on his tea. He ordered green tea macha with sprinkles of cinnamon and they got it just right. “Who says I do not regulate anything? Some are very faithful, almost to the point of obsession and that is also a fine line to walk.
He continued: “Who says I cannot tell the future? Listen: I see infinite possibilities of each one of my own. It is always the final possibility, right before death that intrigues me. Not their death beds, but the last ten or few years before their death when their possibility is no longer corrupt. When they know who they really are. Right as they begin to burn brighter than the stars I’ve hung.”
“And the children who are sick and dying on your world because you refuse to heal them?” Silver One countered. “What do you see of their futures, or did see of their futures at all?” Silver One leaned back in her chair casually, a winning smile upon her attractive face.
Beautiful One did not hesitate to answer: “Sometimes there are moments before a human copulates when I peer down on them and wonder if the little signs I gave them would be enough.” He looked into his tea as if searching for more validation of why he allow babies to suffer. He found no way to explain. “All children deserve to be here but…I am God and my creation disobeyed me. All must suffer because they are Eve and Adam’s child..”
Silver One said nothing at first. She let it sink in her mind and drank up some more coffee. “This is what I mean, Beautiful One. You go back to announcing who you are as to why innocents must suffer. I know who you are and most atheists care not to know you but they know wind and chaos did not create them. Still, you understand your people’s anguish. No?”
“As I said. One may see years as years. I see generations as one day. Adam and Eve disobeyed me and then their spawn did as well, but I allow them to live and grow and make mistakes. Parents do that, Silver One.”
“Were they the first to make the mistake?”
Beautiful One gave a knowing smile again. Silver One liked when he smiled. “Oh no. They are not. The ones who got it right, survived a perfect ten thousand years before I began with Adam and Eve. This time when I made man, I used the earth and the wind of my breath, and water. Water is a current that moves constantly and can be beautiful and deadly, like people, Silver One. You may not understand my methods, but if there ever were a war between mine and yours, mine has so much drive, so much pain, so much passion- they will endure. It will amaze you.”
“Maybe one day we can arrange a War of the Made, how’s that sound?”
They both got up and anyone watching the reflection in the glass would see one was a tall proud bald silver woman while the other was the color of jasper with a long white beard. Not necessarily giants but they shone like the stars.
They both took a stroll down a well lit park and spoke of things not so cosmic and profound but joked and laughed about mundane things, simple things like how rabbits chase foxes on Earth 2 and how the men are more “sensitive” than women here as well. They also do not understand television and laptops, and social media at all. They understand it, but find it amazing what people tinker with.
After their stroll, Silver One took Beautiful One’s hand. “We are so different but I am glad we have these talks. Do you see why I run things like I do now?”
Beautiful One covered her hand with his own. Who said gods do not love or fall in love? Her large eyes were discs into unknown futures of futures and her lips were pouty as well and skin dusted with light from the moon and stars above, making her glow. “Silver One, you do what you must. I will do the same. You have given me…thought in my actions, or lack thereof.”
Silver One nodded but Beautiful One would not reveal to her his true nature. It would scar her poised shell and leave her blistered in the void. He will not tell her that he is neither male nor female. He will not reveal to her that she is an extension of himself. He will never tell her that these brief talks with her(himself) is what he needs all the time to balance himself.
“Oh! I forgot! What about Satan. Is he still around?” She asks letting her hand slip from his. “It would be cruel if he is still hanging on to tempt people.”
Without a second thought, Beautiful One took Silver One’s slender hand and pulled her hard and fast to his body so he could whisper in her ear: “The light bearer still lives.”
Silver One shivered as confusion riddled her face.
The Beautiful One was still cruel as fresh molten lava spitting upon the innocent in its path.
Copyright 2018 Erica Jean Smith