The Twins of Kane - Leviticus 3.7

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The Twins of Kane – Leviticus 3.7

I imagine that the conversations that I was having in my head as I sat there alone were more complex than what I remember now. Most people don’t take too kindly to having their beliefs on divinity and the like corrected for them constantly, and worse than that having the feeling of divine omnipotence ripped out of you isn’t a picnic either. To recap what was already becoming a bad week, or weeks, or perhaps months for all I could truly remember, I had been alerted that God was a woman, Gabriel had no sense of humor, I could jump through time, and all of the minions of God didn’t understand it, oh and Satan was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, and preferred to be called Lou. The fact that he was a Dungeons and Dragons geek hardly even registered anymore.

I didn’t ask for any of this crap, and I sure as hell was sick of playing by a set of rules that my human brain couldn’t truly comprehend. The explanation that Lou gave me about “Lawful” natures and the such, made a certain twisted amount of sense to me, but I wouldn’t stake the fate of mankind on a set of rules that just “are” and the omnipotent beings that were supposed to just play by them out of their own sense of lawfulness. On the other hand, what could I do about it? My arms were sporting various bruises from all the times I had pinched myself and tried to get out of this nightmare that keeps going back to the beginning, and the middle and changing. Sometimes it was for the better I suppose, but for the most part it was mostly for the same. Part of me was wondering why Lou didn’t just draw on the infamous “fiends of hell” and all that crap that the hellfire and brimstone preachers had scared the crap out of me with as a child, but then again the more I talked to Lou the more it appeared that even in a supernatural way, sensibilities would dictate that most of those things were silly.

The concept of holding the angels hostage didn’t sit very well either. I’m sure that they are all unspeakably good and all of that but, I know that I would be pretty pissy about these things myself. This didn’t mean that I didn’t know the difference between Us and Them, and as a member of the “Us” team I can only speculate what goes on in the mind of the “Them” team after all. I was absently playing around with the piece of parchment that had been a strange and unexplained guide in all of this, but at this state of the game it just sat blank in my hand doing nothing spectacular whatsoever. I was feeling very lonely, and I really needed something to fill my mind because, like most philosophers I could feel the insanity starting to take control of my mind. I didn’t even know what was going on around me as my mind was simply starting to grow numb to the outside world, but I was starting to wonder how sleep fit into this whole ordeal. I had basically lived the equivalent of about 5 days at this point, despite all of the jumping in and out of time and ending up God knows where, and in that span of say 5 days, I have only slept one night. On that hand I had only eaten twice as well. Maybe I am hungry and exhausted, but I don’t feel it? Here I was going again on another grossly overstated philosophical debate with myself while Satan and his angel are probably out destroying the world. The parchment in my hands finally started feeling peculiar.

Written clearly on the parchment, or should I say, writing itself in as I read it were the words, “You are eating and sleeping in normal time,” and the words disappeared to be replaced with, “You made a wonderful pasta primavera last night in the time that happens without you,” and then the words faded away.

I was a bit put off that the instruction or whatever it was on the parchment had ended so abruptly. I stared at it for a bit and then said aloud, “Is that it?” and then continued to stare at the parchment which did absolutely nothing. What did happen at that point made me jump completely off the bench and then stumble around to land gracelessly on my behind on the grass.

My son had walked up behind me, and then said, “Who are you talking to?” and then reached out his hand casually to help me up like this sort of thing happened all the time. Come to think about it, this sort of thing did happen all the time because on my best day I am pretty clumsy, despite my excellent waitressing abilities. The trick to that had been to never carry more than two things at a time.

As I got to my feet, I decided that the best thing to do was be a smart ass and say, “I’m talking to God, it’s something that single parents do a lot,” and then I plunked myself back down on the bench so I could get my heart to stop hammering in my chest.

In perfect stride Jake sat down next to me on the bench, which seemed different than the last time I was in this reality but I was already starting to get foggy on what happened at what time, and how often. He stretched his arms out in front of him and then said, “Does she answer you? I heard that was the first sign of insanity,” and then started chuckling at his own joke.

The fact that he had called God a she didn’t go unnoticed but I was getting so good at subterfuge that I simply brushed it off and made a mental note to test that a few times before I start wondering where he got that from. With that I said to him, “Is that something that she told you?” figuring it was best to make a joke out of it at first.

“I don’t talk to God all that often, but then again I am not a single parent,” he started and then with a bit of a humorous note he added, “at least I’ve kept it from you this long,” and realizing that that didn’t work, I figured it was better to just give up and ignore the anomaly, because me head hurt enough anyway.

Of course my mind was wandering again anyway, since I had already seen my son turn into the king of hell on one occasion and didn’t want to just assume that he was who he appeared. I also had to deal with his ability to walk over the rational, like he had on the occasion in the kitchen with Mary, and the situation with the window, both times actually. Perhaps I could give the devil credit for making me not trust my own son, and on its own devices, that would rather serve as a reminder of who he actually is, regardless of how cute he is. Jake was just sitting beside me staring off into space along with me. The parchment in my hand started doing its little dance to inform me that it was writing, but I didn’t want to read it with Jake sitting there. I couldn’t help myself when I reached my arm around him and pulled him to me.

It was probably the most subtle thing in the world, as he stiffened a bit on the way under my arm, but it was enough. Mother’s know everything about their children, the way they talk, the way they lie and the way they think, but probably most importantly the way they deal with affection. Jake wasn’t the most affectionate boy in the world, but I have always been one of the luckier moms out there as he didn’t shy away from it either. That moment of hesitation that he gave me when I pulled him towards me, was enough for me to see that it wasn’t the Jake I know that would have at the very least fallen under my arm simply in his own way of getting it over with. For the love of God though, I was praying internally that whomever this was didn’t feel my heart beating faster at that very moment too. … To be continued