Story #247 - Bob's God

Bob's God

“Is this some kind of joke?” Bob Esceles voice rose as he faced down the man in white. Off-white, now, but the angel was still significantly cleaner than anyone else in the small caravan.

“To you?” Mikhal said. “No – nor to me.” He pointed skyward. “To Him, however, this is a great jest. Seeing you run in fear and hide in the dirt is something in the nature of sport.”

“But he's supposed to love us!” Bob had made this argument before, but the frustration of being constantly on the run, of never knowing what would lie around the corner had his nerves frayed, and he wasn't thinking clearly.

“He did,” the angel said with a long face, “but eons of human interaction soured Him on your people, as you proved time and time again that you couldn't be trusted.” The angel shifted his position, and Bob could see the golden shield he maintained shift as well. Extending thirty feet from him in all directions, the dome was all that protected those following Mikhal from the marauding creatures of an angry God. Near the back of the pack he could hear several people cry out as the shield moved, and they skittered quickly back under its protective shell. Even a minute outside Mikhal's protection could mean death.

Anger coursed through him as he saw a dog trot by beyond the shield, happy and well-fed. None of the animals had been affected by the Wrath, but nor would they come anywhere near their damned, former owners. It was unfair!

“And what of them?” He pointed at the curly-haired pup as it trotted by. “Your God spares them and punishes us? How is that fair?”

Mikhal snorted. “Surely you jest, Robert. The creatures left untouched on this planet have done nothing to anger Him – they have acted according to his purpose, always allowing nature to run its course. You humans, however, constantly struggle against His decrees – even after the Revelation!”

Bob dropped his eyes, ashamed. He had to admit, he was one of the many who chose to ignore God's mandates even after He had appeared in body nearly fifteen years ago. Atheism had been running rampant in the world, Middle Eastern conflicts could not be put to bed, and First World countries were greedier than ever as the population of the planet spiraled out of control and they did their best to hoard and hold onto all of the resources they possessed. Without warning, a figure had appeared above the Atlantic Ocean, one that broadcast a message directly into the minds of every living human in their native tongue. There was no mistaking the message or the warning – God had arrived, and he was not pleased.

Bob felt that his own life – a slowly failing marriage, one son and a minor affair – was good enough, and didn't require any changing, no matter what the Lord of the Universe might think. His son would be going to college to pursue his dreams, so felt like he had succeeded as a father. His wife was cold and distant, and hadn't been interested in him since their son was born. Part of that might have been his significant weight gain, but it really didn't matter – she'd left him with little choice but to look elsewhere.

The words of God, he'd decided, were for those who really had problems, those who were really down in the dumps. He was just a regular guy, and it wasn't as though God was going to check up on every single person the on the planet.

He'd been right about the last, at least. Instead of a second plea or an attempt to force His creations to fall into line, God had decided to simply wipe them out and start again.

Mikhal was still looking at him when he found the nerve to straighten and meet the other being's white-eyed gaze. The angel had made it clear to them when he arrived that he wasn't protecting them out of a sense of duty or honor, or because he'd decided it was time to defy the commands of his Lord. Instead, he told Bob, each of the Archangels had been given a task – seek out no more than fifty humans and protect them for as long as possible from the decimation of their Lord. Whichever one had the last remaining group was to be given a promotion, and a hand in helping to create the next master race on Earth. Mikhal was dedicated to protecting them – but only insofar as it was of benefit to himself.

“It...” he started, the hesitated. “It wasn't on purpose.”

“Hah!” Mikhal barked out a short laugh, and several in the camp looked up at him. A sudden shower of fiery meteors distracted them quickly, however, and they went back to scanning the heavens and wincing every time an object struck the angel's barrier, as if worried the white-robed creature would suddenly let it dissipate, killing them all.

“You know as well as I do, Robert, that it was as purposeful as any action. You were given chance after chance, opportunity after opportunity, and your people squandered them all. These are simply the consequences of your choices.”

Bob sighed. The angel was right, of course.

“But what about the children?” He gestured to the three little ones they'd found along the way out of the city. “They hardly deserve such treatment.”

Mikhal opened his mouth answer, but then the angel's eyes went wide and he dropped to the ground, prostrating himself. The golden barrier shimmered and cut out, and all around him Bob could hear the screams of friends and strangers as the punishment of a scorned God came raining down. A soft white light surrounded him, however, and lifted him into the air, the horrific images around him fading to be replaced with a scene of stunning beauty.

His eyes were drawn to a large man in a tall white chair, stroking a curly white beard. It was easy to recognize his own conception of God, though in his mind the deity came without the angry eyes and drawn eyebrows above them.

“Robert Esceles,” the lips of God moved, but the voice sounded in his soul. “I have chosen you as humanity's defender. Convince me here of your worthiness to live, or I will destroy your people utterly. Begin!”

Bob took a step back. He had never been good with words.

- D