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| Chapter 1 |
| The Book of Je |
| With his cream suit, green tie, glistening brown shoes, clear complexion, styled hair, immaculate teeth, and breath composed of bold strokes of lilacs, Satan could easily have been mistaken for any of the other Children of God that socialized in the coffee house. Because every child is a child of God, the coffee house was filled to capacity with billions and billions of souls, and yet tables rested well spaced apart, conversations hummed melodiously at low levels, and all appeared in a pleasant state of mind. After waiting in line for only fifteen seconds, Satan approached the counter and ordered a triple cafe mocha. He then presented the jubilant clerk with a $50 bill. "I'm really sorry. This is the smallest one I have." "That's not necessary, sir," the clerk said, handing him his drink. "We're unconcerned with money here." Satan sighed and slipped the paper back into his breast pocket. "You know, I invented the price structure." "I'm sorry?" the clerk said through a smile. "Three dollars for a cup of coffee that costs 37 cents to produce? That was my idea." "Avarice cannot be commended, sir." "You've never been to the United States, have you?" "No sir. Will there be anything else?" "Wonderful place, the United States. It has the greediest people, the fattest people, the highest number of murders, the largest pornography industry, mega-sized sodas and fries..." The Prince of Darkness took the drink but was disappointed to note attendants popping up from empty air to serve the customers in line behind him. The counter stretched like a baptismal procession to accommodate the additional beverage drinkers. "Forget it. I was just trying to screw with your mind, but it seems that there is nothing to screw." The clerk kept beaming. "Thank you, sir, and may the rest of your time here be enjoyable." Satan stepped away and noticed a table being vacated. He immediately lowered himself into an empty chair only to find the Lord sitting across from him. "So, Satan, where have you come from?" In no way startled, the visitor sipped his coffee before answering, "Earth. Where else? I've got two wars going on, rampant political corruption, and corporate domination. It's totally awesome." "Speaking of totally awesome," the voice resonated, "have you heard of Joe Fillner? There is none like him on Earth, a near-perfect and upright man, one that fears Me, and eschews evil." "Can't say I've come across that name before," Satan shrugged. "But let me guess. You've given him a very comfy life. He has a phenomenal job with an outstanding pension and fabulous health insurance. His beautiful kids adore him. His luscious wife still craves having sex with him. He's well respected and admired by everyone who's ever met or heard of him. No hair loss. No flab. And you bless everything he does because he prays and honors you every chance he gets. Is that about right?" "Mostly. His hair is thinning." Satan snorted. "This Joe guy wouldn't bother if everything went to crap. Take away all his perks and you'd have an American consumer so angry that he'd turn his back on You faster than the world rejected New Coke." "Which was your idea." "And I made out really well. A lot of executives begged me to take their souls to get out of that mess. I arranged to have them work on Pepsi A.M." "I know." Satan savored another sip. "A long time ago, we had a bet about the other guy you bragged about. Not realizing that he was completely insane, I lost that bet. But it's different with this Joe character. He's living in the 21st century. Sin is everywhere, touching everyone. Even if he was absolutely crazy and stuck to all those annoying rules, he'd be locked up for being a fundamentalist psycho." "So why not have a second bet?" "You're on! And if I win, this Joe person takes up residence in my town. We've just built three new subdivisions and a high-rise in Hell, so there's plenty of room." The Lord nodded. "And if I win..." Satan chuckled, "What are you gonna do? Banish me?" With stern gaze, God responded, "Double cafe mochas only the next time you visit." Satan's eyes widened. "That seems a tad severe! But okay. I accept." In a whirling flash, the Lord's lawyer appeared, seated at the table. She slid a piece of paper over to Lucifer. "This contract certifies that my client has given you divine powers over all things that affect one Joe Fillner on the planet called Earth. The only stipulations are that you can do nothing that would injure, maim, or kill Mr. Fillner while such powers are in your possession and you must surrender all divine powers back to the Lord within 90 days." A blossom of smoke erupted beside Satan. The charred paw of Satan's legal advisor picked up the contract, his ebony eyes scanning the text. "It's on the up 'n up, boss. No tricks." The Prince of Darkness willed his aide away with a flick of his left hand. He removed a ball-point pen from his breast pocket and signed in runny red ink. The 'X' signifying the Lord's signature was already on the page. God's lawyer retrieved the contract and placed it in her synthetic leather folder. She nodded to both parties. "Thank you. I'd love to stay, but I'm due at a hearing in fifteen seconds." "What kind of case?" "Misrepresentation. An angel pretended to be 13-year-old girl in an on-line chatroom." "Deceit from Heaven?" Satan said with great intrigue. "I might have a job for that fellow." The lawyer stood. "I'm arguing in his defense." The stoical woman vanished. Satan huffed, "I'm sure she'll charm the pants off the jury. Huh. Think of all of those 30, 40, and 50-year-old males that could have been 'touched by an angel'. Oh well. I'll meet them soon enough. But tell me, was this angel acting on your orders?" "You're the only one that didn't. What are your plans for Joe Fillner?" "Good question. I'm going to take the exact same approach I did last time. I'll torture Joe by taking away everything he has, infect him with boils, and then have three friends come over and bitch to him for five hours that his misery is his own fault." "No, you won't. But you will attempt to have him renounce Me." "Well duh! How else can I win the bet?" Satan stood, leaving his empty cup on the table. "It'll be a snap to get him to turn away from you." "We shall see. Farewell, Satan." "Ciao." So Satan went forth from the presence of the Lord. |
| There was a man in the land of Los Angeles, whose name was Joe; and that man was near-perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil. He had one son and one daughter, both successful, independent adults who nevertheless called Joe and his wife at least once a week. His wife retained a simple beauty, and they remained constant in their love and devotion to each other. Joe and Enid owned their own one-story, 1600 square-foot home in the community of Northridge. His job was that of English teacher at Tarvin High School in nearby Reseda, and Joe often bicycled to work, for his own health but also to keep from polluting this precious planet. On weekends he performed volunteer work for senior centers, animal shelters, and facilities for the homeless. One evening each week, he attended a class at University of California Northridge to enrich his soul with learning. And all the while, upon waking up, preparing for the day, riding his bicycle to Tarvin, between classes, while grading papers, and at home with Enid, Joe prayed, thanking God for his wonderful life, and asking that the Almighty improve the lives of his students or those that he encountered that clearly needed help. |
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