God's Gone AWOL

[7] The Fig Tree

There was a fig tree in the Garden of Heaven.

It was larger than any fig tree that could ever grow on Earth, reaching up so high that the branches almost touched the conservatory's glass ceiling. The wide, green leaves filtered the light overhead so it came down in elegant streams, casting the rest of the garden in an otherworldly glow. Because there were no seasons in Heaven, fresh fruit always hung down from its smooth stems, inviting any passing angel to take a bite. Such a sight was so lush and alive that even the most cold hearted angels couldn't help but fall in love with a single glance.

One particularly eventful day, everyone in the third angelic generation had the privilege of visiting the garden together with their choirs. Amidst the vast rainbow of sweet-scented flowers and beneath the high shelter of the glass, dozens of angels frolicked about. Some were tending to the plants, some were playing around, and some were just standing back, staring with sparkling eyes at the flourishing wonder of it all.

A few of them had gathered around the base of the fig tree. Since angels didn't physically need to eat, there were no restrictions in place about consuming anything in the garden. So of course, Ruth and a couple others had decided to climb up and pick a handful of the fresh figs. When they brought them back to the group waiting below, everyone immediately began chowing down, tasting that tender fruit rarely distributed anywhere outside of Earth.

Atticus didn't dare try one. Even though he wasn't standing all that far away, nobody offered him anything. Maybe deep down, there was some part of him that secretly wanted to taste one of those figs, but it was hushed and suppressed. Temptation must be suppressed, or else one grows entitled to the offers of life. So with a frosty expression, he just remained on the sidelines, pretending not to care in the slightest.

Amidst the sweet scent of a million different forms of life, Atticus was glad to see that there were lots other things he could look at. The fig tree was hardly the most important part of the garden as there were infinite amounts of flowers, trees, fruits, shrubs, and anything else an angel could ask for. If it grew on Earth, it could grow in Heaven. So Atticus was able to divert his attention away from his peers, allowing his gaze to wander freely amidst the flowers and moist greenery.

Then he accidentally let his eyes wander too much, and he saw something unfortunate that almost caused his cool composure to come crashing down.

Beneath the large trunk of the tree, Ruth was playing around with an angel Atticus had never seen before. She was laughing, poking the angel's nose, offering figs to them, and looking as comfortable as ever in the light of the sun. He didn't know what the reason was, but when Atticus saw this, he felt irrationally annoyed.

He guessed that it was probably due to Ruth's naturally casual manner. The person she was messing around with was clearly not a member of their choir, and yet she was acting so informal around them. Why was she always so easy for random people to get along with? Was such behavior even safe? Couldn't she just treat strangers like strangers for once? Why did she always have to be all friendly with everyone?

He was annoyed again. It seemed to be a common occurrence these days.

In addition to his disapproval of Ruth's behavior, there was another matter burning away at Atticus' heart. He was still angry with himself over the whole Ophaniel situation. By now, it had actually been centuries since he had last seen his own parent. It was adding fuel to the fire of agitation. Especially because every single time Atticus tried to contact Ophaniel, he was always met with the same excruciating response:

"Come back when you've become the best angel that you can be."

These were the words Ophaniel used, but Atticus didn't know what they meant. Ophaniel had said that in order to do achieve such a thing, he had to keep his head low and remain humble when offered any sort of glory. However, whenever Atticus followed those words of advice, he just ended up doing nothing at all. Unable to contribute to bettering the universe, unable to receive any recognition for his work. How was he supposed to become the best when he wasn't even allowed to try out of fear of disappointing his own father?