Luz: book i: comings and goings (Troubled Times 1) (19 page)

“Where is all this coming from, Son? This sudden blood lust of yours. Don’t forget you’re the Prince of Peace, after all.”

“That’s a good one, Father! I am the Prince of Peace, but you want me to go down to Earth, launch the battle of all battles, Armageddon, and defeat the Prince of Darkness in the biggest showdown of the universe? Have you thought of all the bloodletting that confrontation will unleash, Father? Don’t you find it all a bit ironic?”

The Creator of the Universe cringed, turning and looking his son squarely in the eye with a fierce and focused stare. It was a gaze so severe that even the Son of Man could barely stomach it.

“Son, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times.
Do not
mention that individual in my presence! Now, what’s the matter with
you?
Up until recently you were all for the big bang. You couldn’t wait to bring that Satan to his knees and get him to conform. All of a sudden you’re scared of a little blood? Don’t focus on the blood, Son. Remember what this is for, you just said it yourself: saving man from himself. That’s the purpose of your going back down, Son—the purpose of the Second Coming.”

The Son of Man kept his eye on that blazing shooting star he had finished wishing upon and commanded it toward him, bringing it spinning high overhead and making it burst in a refulgent shower of light straight above him.

“Sorry, Father. I’ve had plenty of time to reconsider things,
and Man does not deserve to be rescued. I meant it when I said I wasn’t going back down. So forget about any Second Coming, Father—just forget it! By the way, where are those scrolls of mine? What did you do with them?"

The Creator of the Universe knew exactly what the Son of Man was alluding to with mention of these scrolls. He simply ignored the question for, in addition to all His many greatnesses, the Creator could also be the Great Ignorer. Besides, He was too incensed right now to address anything other than his son’s impudence and insubordination. It was one thing to mingle among man and challenge the authority of the high priests and scribes and the temple elders. It was another thing to challenge He who had created and would forever rule the Heavens.

"But Son, scripture has got to be fulfilled and you’re six years overdue. You were supposed to go back down in ’88, remember? You know that I wanted to wrap things up one generation after the homeland became a state.”

“Too bad, Father. I’ve made up my mind. I’m
not
going back down.”

“But you’ve got me seriously behind schedule, Son. The final conflict is long overdue, and you don’t understand the gravity of the situation. You can’t be serious when you say you’re not going back down!”

"Oh, I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life, Father. I’ve had plenty of time to contemplate all that Man did to me, all that Man is
still
doing to me, and if you think I’m going down to sweep him up so he can enjoy a life of eternal happiness, you can forget it, Father. It ain’t happening!”

The Creator of the Universe found himself doing the unexpected just then: tapping into His deepest reserves of constraint, which happened to run very deep. He did this only under the most extreme of conditions: when it became absolutely necessary to maintain an even-tempered tone with the Son of Man.

“Come now, Son, let’s be fair about this, shall we? There’s
no need to be so hard on man. Just be patient with your brethren. He’ll turn himself around, you’ll see.”

“Patient, Father? Are you serious? Not even with the patience of Job will man ever turn himself around. Really, I don’t know what was in that dust you used, Father. From his very inception man has been nothing but trouble, nothing but grief.”

The Creator must concede that the Son of Man did have a point there. Still, nobody was going to order Him around, not even his son. Before responding, the Creator continued holding himself in check. He took only a shallow breath of that soothing celestial air which had taken him mere seconds to fashion from nothing. A deeper breath would have produced great disturbances far and wide.

“It’s not man’s fault, Son. You mustn’t blame him. You know whose fault it is. You know it’s the doing of that snake, that Satan. You know it’s all his deception and trickery and constantly doing his best to confuse and tempt man.
That’s
whose fault it is.”

The Son of Man peered over at that black hole off in the central portion of the galaxy. He had to admit that, as much as it frightened him to gaze upon that violently spinning vortex, he also found something alluring and enticing about it, something mesmerizing about its fierce and fantastical force.

“I’m sorry, Father, but I beg to differ. It’s time to stop playing the blame game, time to stop shifting fault. You need to call a spade a spade, Father, and man’s misfortune has nothing to do with Lucifer. It’s all man and his conceit. It’s all his own doing and you know it.”

That was it! At the mere mention of that name, the Creator’s self-imposed constraint burst open into a cascade of spatial shrapnel, every last drop of it. It was clear why constellations of fiery volcanoes were the most prevalent visual in the Heavens, why He so inspired their image.

“
Lucifer!
Did I hear that correctly, Son? Did I? So now you’re on a first-name basis with him? You actually call that
Satan by name? Listen here, Son. You don’t like being called the Son of Man. I don’t like hearing the name Lucifer. Do not utter that devil’s name in my presence again. Especially on a night like tonight, on the night of your sister’s conception.”

While there was nothing more intimidating than the expression on the Creator’s inscrutable face during the times He truly turned angry, His tone could be equally menacing. The Son of Man decided to tone things down a bit.

“I’m sorry, Father. I meant no disrespect, and you know it.”

The Creator instantly calmed Himself down. As incensed and enraged as He could get at times, He could also un-anger Himself just as quickly. He could change his tack just as easily, and decided to appeal to his son’s conscience.

“It’s all right, Son; all is forgiven. You know I’ll forgive anything as long as one is truly sorry. Now, why don’t you try doing the same thing with man? Why don’t you try understanding that man is a just slow learner, a little dull if you will. But He’ll get it eventually.”

“Eventually, Father? Hasn’t two thousand years been long enough? How much more time does man need? You know, I learned something invaluable when I was down there, Father. Sometimes you have to cut your losses, and well, this is one of those times.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Son. Let’s do exactly that. Let’s cut our losses, as you say. But first you have to go down there. First you have to make contact and fulfill scripture.”

The Son of Man shook his head vigorously. “Sorry, Father, it ain’t happening. Not in my lifetime anyway.”

The Creator tried His best to ignore the low-brow colloquialism His son had just employed.

“Really, Son? Are you absolutely certain of that? I mean, you are going to live forever, remember?”

Just then, the Son of Man felt what seemed like a pelting shower of meteors, a hail of asteroids rain down upon his spirit, realizing that, no matter what he did or wherever he
went, no matter how far into the outer reaches or the outer limits or even the most remote regions of the universe, his Father would always be there right alongside him.

“Please, Father, no need to remind me. I know that already.”

The Creator of the Universe shook His head in total dismay. So now the Son of Man was knocking eternal life—the very bane of his existence, the one gift he had presented and offered mankind. If the Creator couldn’t believe such infernal flippancy, He was convinced more than ever of the source, of who had influenced this attitude: Satan, that snake. Something had definitely transpired during the three days before his son’s ascent into Heaven; those three days when the Son of Man had descended into hell after being on the cross. Since then, he had lightened up considerably on Lucifer. The Creator couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but Satan had planted some kind of kernel in his son’s head.

“Why are you being so cynical, Son?

Why?”

“Because I know you’re up to something, Father. This ill-conceived whim of yours to have another child. There’s some scheme behind it and you know it. Tell me what it is, Father. What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything, Son. What makes you think thus?”

“Because I know you, Father. I know you and your mysterious ways. After two thousand years, you can’t conceal things from me that easily. You don’t do anything unless there’s some grand design behind it all, just like when you had me conceived.”

“You assume too much, Son, way too

much.”

“It’s true, Father, and you know it. Hadn’t you had enough of man and his misdeeds when you concocted the scheme for attaining salvation and eternal life? Just look at my name, Father, the name Jesus. What does it mean? It means
God
saves.
And look at the name you want to give this girl, Father. It means
light
. If you had a reason for creating me, you’ve got a reason for creating her. It’s that simple, Father. I don’t believe you just want to be a parent again. You’re not exactly the paternal type, Father.”

The Creator fell absolutely silent. Even for Him, He who had created the Universe, there was nothing that stung quite as much as the mordant recriminations of one’s angry offspring.

“You’re absolutely right, Son. You’ve caught me red-handed as they say down there. I’ll admit that, when you were conceived, I did have a grand scheme behind it all: man’s salvation. I made you the ultimate trade-off for eternal life. I wanted you to be perfect and become the ultimate overachiever. Not this time, Son. I’m older now, I’m wiser. I just want to relax this time around. I want to enjoy fatherhood plain and simple, that’s all; and I’ve decided there’s nothing more precious than a daughter.”

The jabs from one’s offspring could sting, but so could the barbs from one’s parent.

“Thanks a lot, Father. So now sons aren’t good enough? Is that what you’re saying?”

The Creator smiled slightly and came over to put a consoling hand on his son’s shoulder, a right hand.

“Now, Son, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. It’s just that, well, thanks to man, daughters have always gotten the short end of the stick and I plan on rectifying that.”

Despite so rare and tender a confession, the Son of Man remained skeptical and on guard. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he knew he was still being toyed with. Such were the drawbacks to being part of the Godhead. Sure, he and the Creator and the Holy Spirit all belonged to the Trinity, but there was still plenty the Creator of the Universe kept from him. He purposely arranged it so that, in the pyramidal structure of the Trinity, the Son of Man was not fully privy to all the designs and schemes that took place at the top.

“I don’t believe you, Father. You’re conning me. This is all some conniving scheme of yours, and you know it. Tell me what you did with those scrolls, Father. Where did you hide them?”

The Great Ignorer cast aside all mention of the scrolls again, focusing instead on his son’s atrocious and foul use of language.

“I’m not conning you, Son. And please, must you use that type of language up here? What a foul mouth you’ve acquired:
con, ain’t, cutting losses
. Remember where you are, Son. You didn’t talk that way even when you walked among man.”

“I was tempted to, Father, believe me.”

“But you didn’t, Son. You controlled yourself. And I know where all this filth is coming from. This must have been what you learned in hell those three days you were down there. Is that how Satan contaminated your head?”

The Son of Man could be a great ignorer himself, and decided to borrow a page from the Creator’s book. He knew it drove his Father absolutely wild not knowing what had happened down there, what took place during those three days of his descent into hell. But as long as the Creator refused to hand over the missing scrolls, the Son of Man had no intention of making his own revelations. Yes, there could be certain advantages to the divisional structure of the Trinity: sometimes those at the top of the pyramid couldn’t always see all the way down.

“Pardon me, Father. I didn’t mean to offend you with my language. How’s this for a compromise: you tell me what you’re up to and I might reconsider, I might just go back down.”

If the sheen of the stars and the glow of the galaxies should have flared up in the eternal light of the Creator’s eyes, He was still Creator of the Universe and would not allow Himself to be tempted or toyed with, not even by the Son of Man.

“For the last time, Son—nothing! It’s like I told you. I simply want to enjoy fatherhood this time around. It’s difficult for me to admit this, but when you were growing up I was so wrapped up in all the matters of salvation that I missed out on way too much, on all the cute little things you said and did, on all your milestones. This time I’m not letting that happen. I plan on being there for all the important things in your sister’s life: the sports events, the recitals, the birthday parties.”

“Birthday parties? It’s Cuba, Father.
What
birthday parties?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Son. She’ll have birthday parties like no other. You’ll see.”

“Well, that’s great to hear, Father. In the meantime, what birthday parties did I ever have? Even now, when despicable man celebrates my birthday, is it even on the actual date? No, of course not. Let’s see, man can figure out how to send rockets to the moon and space probes to explore the deepest recesses of outer space and he builds computers capable of performing millions of calculations per second, but he still hasn’t figured out my real birthday.”

The Creator patted his son’s shoulder affectionately and in consolation.

“Let it go, Son. I know when you’re real birthday is. That’s all that matters.”

“No, Father! I will not let it go! What type of celebration is it for me, anyway? The whole Nativity is only so man can give himself gifts and satisfy his own selfish needs.”