A Heavenly Conversation

By Emer : this story is mine! Please don't take it.

"What are they doing now, Gabriel?" asked God.

The Angel Gabriel stood at attention, wings folded, hands clasped. He looked slightly ragged, as if he had just flown through a war zone, and he smelled of singed feathers.

"They're fighting against each other about which of them you gave divine right to, only this time they're arguing because of the color of their skin, Sir." Gabriel's voice was slightly hoarse.

"Again?" cried God. He rubbed his face with both hands. "Holy Christ can't a person get any rest around here?" He gestured expansively at Heaven.

"You called, father?" said Jesus from the door way.

God looked slightly annoyed, "I wish I had known I would need to take the Lord's name in vain before I made that rule," said God in an irritated tone. "In fact, I wish I had known a lot of things before I even created this whole God-forsaken mess!"

"You were younger then, sir," said Gabriel soothingly. "You couldn't have known."

"We all make mistakes," Jesus added helpfully. "Do want me to go down and take care of it?" He didn't sound over enthusiastic at the prospect but God seemed not to notice.

"No," replied God after a moment of consideration. "You saw what happened to the last person I sent down to help." They were silent for a moment, thinking of Martin Luther King Jr., commonly known around heaven as 'Junior'. "Besides I'm saving you for Armageddon. You're booked for the second coming, after all. When do you think we should have that, anyway? They all seemed to have thought it should have been two thousand years after your first coming. I think it should be on a random Tuesday, just to blindside them." Jesus looked slightly sick at the reminder of his fate. His first visit was, after two thousand years, still fresh in his mind.

"Don't worry," Gabriel told him wickedly. "They don't use crosses and knives anymore. They use guns." Jesus did not look reassured.

"I want to have another go at saving them anyway," God added, apparently lost in his own thoughts. "The end of the world can wait just a bit." Jesus tried not to look too relieved.

God peered down through the clouds at the earth. "I can't even tell what pigment they are from here!" he declared incredulously. "How can they fight about something like that? I mean, just because I let some of them bake in the sun for an extra ten thousand years while I was having my nap, they decide to kill one another." He turned to Jesus. "You did add that part in about brotherly love, didn't you?" Jesus nodded, then shrugged.

"I can't say they ever really grasped the concept," he said wryly.

"Honestly I can't remember why I thought the free-will thing was a good idea," God looked down disapprovingly. "Or maybe I should have just left off at Adam. After Eve, look how fast they multiplied! And that's when all this fighting non-sense started."

"And I miss Lucifer," Jesus added. God nodded glumly.

"Without the universe, he wouldn't have had anywhere to fall," pointed out God. There followed a poignant silence. "Well, what do you suggest we do about all this, Gabriel?" he asked finally, becoming business-like.

"We could reign fiery vengeance from the sky, but lightening seems to have lost it's power to awe," Gabriel offered promptly. He thought for a moment. "Personally, sir, I recommend either plague, pestilence, or natural disasters. Only one of them, of course, sir. You know, just to put the 'fear of God' back into them."

"Al right," said God. "Make it Plague then, and make it something tricky."

"Very good sir," said Gabriel. "Plague has been working on something just recently. I'll call him up to receive orders." Gabriel bowed and rose up into the air with a powerful flap of wings.

"Ah, where did we go wrong, Son?" asked God pensively.

"I was happy when there was no universe," Jesus replied. "Though I do think the sun was a piece of genius."

God smiled with pleasure. "Nothing really," he said modestly. "Just a rock, some gaseous matter and a really big match." They gazed down at it. "But it is pretty isn't it?" Jesus nodded.

A gust of wind heralded Gabriel's arrival, closely followed by Plague.

"Oh good," said God, getting up to greet them. "Plague, nice to see you, as always." Plague bowed. "I understand you've got something cooked up?" God crooked an eyebrow.

Plague nodded silently and reached into his greenish robes. He pulled out a vial. The liquid inside was of an ominous color that God couldn't remember having created.

"What do you call it?" asked Jesus, looking on with curiosity.

"Human Immunodeficiency Virus," replied Plague.

"A bit cumbersome isn't it?" God asked, after trying the name out.

"We down at the lab call it 'HIV'. We were thinking we could start it out with the monkeys."

"Excellent," said God. "They can't keep fighting if they're ill. And I think they'll appreciate the irony of starting with monkeys." He sat down. "Get to it, and give me full report at one hundred years." Gabriel, Plague, and Jesus bowed out and God got back to his nap.