The Secret Sea - (Chaptered Version)

22

"I was starting to think you weren't going to come," says Jesus. "How's Queen Suzerain these days?"

"She's good," says Eve. "She's going by Suzy lately."

Jesus snickers. "Happy to hear she's loosening up a bit. You know, we used to date."

"Yeah, I know. You're not her favorite person."

"I have a bit of a God complex, I suppose," says Jesus with a wink.

I wasn't expecting the messiah to be brimming with dad jokes. "Jesus, can I call you Jesus? Mr. Christ?" I ask. "I feel so stupid."

"No worries, Jesus is fine," he replies. "You'll find I'm fairly forgiving."

"The bible...is it all real?" I can't help but ask. I'm firmly agnostic but willing to change, barring new evidence.

Eve laughs nervously. "Shut up, Tim," she says through gritting teeth.

Jesus smirks and shakes his head a bit. "The Old Testament is a mixed bag, but things get a little more accurate in Volume 2." He pauses and lets out a sigh. "All the magick coursing through me in those days made it easier to perform miracles. Belief is a powerful force, but truthfully, a lot of the written accounts that emerged decades later were embellished to the point of absurdity. Thankfully, the prophetic verses written by my apostles," Jesus makes air quotes and I can see right through his hands, "were so outlandish, no amount of faith could make them real. I wasn't looking forward to that whole Armageddon thing—ugh. Luckily, I'm too weak for any of it to happen now."

"I thought you rose to heaven, away from all mortal concerns," I say, remembering my ill-fated tenure in Sunday School. "You weren't supposed to come back until the great tribulation...or something."

Jesus shrugs. "The resurrection was just a bit of necessary theatre, I'm afraid. I was still hanging around in secret."

"What about your dad—I mean—God?" I ask.

"The Christian monotheistic god, you mean?" replies Jesus. "We're one and the same. I suppose you could say I conceived myself. Weird right? I was a lot more nebulous and stern in the old days...Volume 1."

The implications of everything I'm hearing are too enormous for my pea brain to process. "A lot of people have been looking for you," I tell Jesus, shifting the subject. "Even a minor miracle could probably earn you some fresh fans."

Jesus shrugs. "I tried for a while. Any miracles I pulled off were just blamed on UFOs or mass hysteria. It got old. I've been lying low for the last decade or so, mostly just waiting for you to show up."

"I refuse to believe I'm so important," I say.

Jesus laughs. "Well, you are."

VarnLiqn abruptly jumps out of Jesus' arms and hides in the corner, his yellow eyes glowing. "Dain jor!"

A bamboo umbrella hopping on a single clawed foot in a chunky sandal springs into the cave. The umbrella unfurls, revealing a large red eye. A serpentine tongue spills out from beneath the canopy and wiggles.

"Ew!" I say, moving deeper into the cave next to VarnLiqn.

"Easy!" says Jesus. "This is a friend of mine. Say hi to Karakasa-Obake."

"Hi," I say, fighting back my terror. The uncanny parasol gurgles a wet response. I turn to Eve. "Are we in Japan?"

"That's right," interrupts Jesus. "Mount Ascendancy is now known as Mount Ontake. A better name, if you ask me. Shame the place got blown up, but I still like it. It's peaceful here."

"You've been in Japan all these years? No wonder no one can find you," I say.

"I come down the mountain every once in awhile," counters Jesus. "Besides, if someone needs me, I'm always in their hearts."

"Right," I mutter.

Jesus turns to the umbrella beast. "Folklore still carries a lot of power in Japan. Inanimate objects have a tendency to spring to life. They're called Tsukumogami."

"Delicate magickal creatures like this yokai are doing better than the big hitters lately," says Eve. "They're so innocuous, they don't require the harvesting of a soul to remain on the physical plane."

Delicate isn't what springs to mind as I watch the umbrella drool on the floor of the cave.

"Yeah, this whole soul-borrowing business is regrettable," says Jesus. "No way around it, I'm afraid. The poor kid I'm carrying got trapped in a rock slide."

"Damn," I mutter.

"Don't worry," says Jesus. "I don't plan on delaying his spiritual passage for too long."

The umbrella squeaks loudly.

"What is it, boy?" asks Jesus, patting its canopy. Karakasa-Obake burps and somehow Jesus understands. He looks nervous. Nervous Jesus isn't a comforting sight.