Many Moons

Banishment

"What."

"What?"

"What do you want."

"Are you the manager?" I asked the man wearing cargo shorts, worn leather sandals and an unbuttoned Cuban-style Guayabera shirt. He reminded me of a thinner version of Sammy Hagar.

"You could say that."

He had appeared as suddenly as Saint Peter had disappeared, although neither had really blinked into or out of my perception. Rather, I could feel my perception change to recognize him, as if he'd been there all along but I hadn't noticed him, like lost car keys. Peter had disappeared in the same manner.

"Hi. My name is—"

"I know what your name is." He interrupted.

"Okay. Good. I would like to appeal Saint Peter's... decision."

"Ah, I see. Okay. Appeal denied."

"But you... I haven't said anything yet."

"You've said enough. Appeal denied."

"I don't understand. I—"

"What's not to understand? You didn't capitalize the fucking 'G' now did you? Did you? No, you did not. And now you must go."

"But how was I supposed to know that?"

"There are only ten things you needed to pay attention in your whole life in order to get here, and I don't really give a shit about nine of them to be honest with you."

He could tell by the confused look on my face that I wasn't quite tracking.

"Remember?" He said. "You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God... Capital G... for the Lord will NOT acquit anyone who misuses his name. Does that passage ring a bell? Because I had it written on a fucking stone tablet, had a pretty popular book written about it, a series actually. Charlton Heston was in a kickass movie about it, and so on and so forth. I think I did a pretty good job of getting the word out."

"I thought that was about taking the lord's name in vain? Like saying 'god damn' or 'Jesus Christ' in a bad way or something."

"There you go again. Lord's name... capital L and you used a lower case g for God again. And where does it say "Lord's name in vain? Nowhere, that's where. I never said that. Go ahead and use my name in vain. That way I know who's with me and who's against me. Fine by me. Just capitalize it so I get proper credit for all my hard work. Is that too much to ask?"

"So you're God?" I asked, trying to appease by capitalizing.

"Listen. I'm omniscient and omnipotent. I can see and create all things so it probably shouldn't come as a shock to you to know that our little conversation is requiring less than point zero to the twentieth power, followed by a one, percent of my intellect. So you'll excuse me if I don't find your questions even remotely worth answering. But the answer is yes, I am God."

Judging by his clothing I wondered if the reason he wasn't so put out was because I had disturbed him from a beach somewhere, although that would presumably also only require a tiny fraction of his awareness. It was hard to tell which truth was more valid, his truth that I was insignificant or my truth that he was sort of insane.

"So why are you here?" I asked.

"You asked to see the boss. I am the boss. I told you your request was denied, so now I'm gonna bounce."

"But why see me at all?"

This gave him pause for longer than I would have thought. I suppose when you have every form of communication in every language using every word or sound in the known universe, that it might require some consideration.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"You're an atheist. Normally you guys just blink out of existence. But you made it all the way up to the gates. That's interesting to me. So you don't believe in me or the other religions, but you believe in something that got you here. Also, I wanted to meet the man who destroyed the earth. That's pretty impressive."

"What?" I asked, shocked. "I didn't destroy Earth. The moon left and the planet was ripped apart... or something."

"Semantics. You didn't save Earth, ergo you destroyed Earth. Don't get me wrong. I'm impressed. A bit pissed because it took me six days to make the friggin' thing and with my capacities that is a lot of work. But still, kudos to you."

"Aren't you mad?"

"Mad? I have billions of other worlds to look after too, you know. They blink in an out of existence all the time. Usually of natural causes, though. Did you think you and your planet were it? There are none quite like yours, but the people on Earth were getting pretty self-centered and whiny so perhaps it's for the best."

"Can't you fix it? Can't you put everything back?"

"Sure. I could do that. I could put everything right, and make it so that no one knew what happened and the moon would never leave. I could cure your mother's cancer too. Would you like that? Maybe you and Mona would like to live a long, wonderful life with kids and grandkids and great grandkids? What kind of cars would you like? And where do you want your mansion?"

"That's rhetorical, right?"

"Goddamn right it's rhetorical. If you want the power to create your reality and existence, be your own God."

He threw up two fingers in a peace sign and turned to walk away. Before I blinked out of existence I shouted, "Wait."

"Now what?"

"I didn't really have a follow up, but I really, really didn't want to go to hell or blink out of existence.

"The sound. 'Soon'. What was that?"

"The aliens did it."

"They said they didn't know anything about it."

"Huh." God said, scratching his five o'clock shadow. "I don't know then. I don't actually do everything, you know."

God didn't smile, but he did wink as he turned to walk away...again.

"Is there anyone else I can talk to? Jesus, maybe?"

That stopped him cold in His tracks. I could see his shoulders tense as he turned around to face me.

"Jesus? Jesus! What the fuck...what... why do people... Listen. I am a God! I kicked out Mount Olympus! I overthrew Valhalla! By myself! Jesus was just some dickhead with an entourage! But everyone believed the hype and now they've moved in and I have to listen to people worship them and me in the same breath when they had nothing to do with anything. Let me tell you something about Jesus, he didn't even—"

"That's enough, father."

"I'm not your father, jackass." God said.

Once again I could feel my perception change and suddenly Jesus and Mary were standing on both sides of God, who took the opportunity to disappear.

Jesus and Mary looked just like the movies and those tall glass candle holders in Mexican bodegas, respectively. They gazed upon me mercifully and I could feel myself embraced in their love, as if it was a palpable, physical force.

"Jesus," I implored, "Is there any way—"

"My son," he said, slowly raising his hand, "Go to Hell."

Mary shrugged.