DEUS EX MACHINA
(Disclaimer: I have no business connection with JOAN OF ARCADIA. My only purpose in writing this story is to have fun and maybe share it.
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is part of a series that imagines what would have happened to Joan and her friends after the TV series ended. In this story Joan and Adam are married and are attending a small college called Baconia University. Elizabeth Grotzman, from the QUEEN OF THE ZOMBIES episode, is also there. This story is set in December 2006.)
"Liz," said the cute student from England, "I see that the Film Club is showing a 1940s movie called BRIEF ENCOUNTER. It's not well known in the States, but I've seen it in England and it's lovely. Would you like to go with me?" Trevor and Elizabeth were in the Baconia University Student Center, surrounded by several friends: Joan Girardi-Rove, Catherine Bullen, and others.
By standards of other invitations Elizabeth Grotzmann had gotten, it was very gentlemanly. No hint of sex, everything quite on the table. Perhaps that is what made Elizabeth undervalue it, although she liked Trevor a lot.
"Thanks, Trev, but I've got to finish my story for the Internet contest. If I don't send it in by the end of tomorrow, it won't be eligible." Elizabeth had first dreamed of being an actress, but during the fall she and Joan had been on a drama project where the cast wrote the play as well as acting in it. It had gotten Elizabeth interested in trying her hand at writing.
Trevor frowned. "I thought you'd finished the thing."
"I thought I had too, but I just reread it, and I've decided that the ending is too contrived. It's too deus-ex-machina."
"Too wot?"
"Deus ex machina; it's a literary term from ancient times. If a playwright couldn't figure out how to wind up his story, he'd let down an actor in a harness playing the role of a god from heaven, telling everybody what to do. It happened so often that it became a joke: the God in the Machine, the sign of poor plot construction."
Trevor put down his drink. "Well, if you're more concerned with the bloody story than a pleasant outing – well, all right." He walked away.
"Bad move, Liz," said Cat. "He's a nice guy, and you go piss him off. Didn't you say you were interested in him?"
"I am. But he didn't seem too upset."
"That's because he's trying to act civilized and show a stiff-upper-lip." She sounded exasperated. "Well, I'VE got a big date tonight, and I intend to be ready. I need to go to the drugstore and buy some make-up – and some protection. Bye."
Elizabeth turned to the remaining girl present, Joan Girardi-Rove. Joan's behavior had always been puzzling: she did a lot of weird things, but they always seemed to work out in the end. Maybe her advice would be valuable. "Do you think I'm handling it wrong, Joan?"
Joan seemed to be pondering what to tell her. "Adam and I had some stormy times before we got married. The key is, the guy and the girl need to understand what's important to the other, and respect it. When Adam got his heart set on painting a nude mythological picture last year, I built up the nerve to pose for him."
Elizabeth giggled. "Only because I volunteered to pose if you didn't. Boy, did that turn out embarrassing."
"It was a sensitive situation and I nearly screwed it up." Joan seemed to think again. She always seemed on her guard against saying something wrong. "I've got an idea. Why don't you let me read your story? I could tell you—"
"If it totally sucks and I'm wasting my time? Good idea. It's like the line from AUNTIE MAME: Who else but a bosom buddy can tell you how rotten you are?"
"Er—"
"No, it'll be a great idea to get an objective opinion. Let's go."
Joan, being married, lived off campus in a flat with Adam, but Elizabeth lived in a standard dormitory room. Her roommate was out at the moment, so Elizabeth and Joan had the room to themselves. Elizabeth booted up the computer and browsed through the system. "It's about two friends who get in a tragic argument that threatens their bond. In the current ending, a third friend manages to make peace between them, but as I said in the student center, I think it's too deus-ex-machina." She clicked the file open. "There."
Joan set down at the computer and started reading the story. Elizabeth's cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"This is Trevor. Remember last week, you thought you found some articles that might be useful in HISTORY 101? Could you send them?"
It was the sort of request a friend would ask of a friend in college. But Elizabeth didn't want Trevor as a mere friend. Suddenly she realized how much she longed for the handsome, charming boy. Was Cat right, and was Elizabeth stupidly driving him away by not responding to a quiet request for a date? Elizabeth tried to guess from his tone of voice what he felt about her, and couldn't tell – he just sounded British.. Sending the articles might be a sort of peace offering, but wouldn't be very romantic; they had names like "The Development of Modern Plumbing in Nineteenth-Century Paris". "Give me a couple of hours to get them organized. Okay?"
"Fine. Thank you, Elizabeth."
Elizabeth. He had called her Liz an hour ago. Things WERE falling apart.
Joan was still looking at the computer screen, taking her promise quite seriously. Elizabeth didn't want Joan to realize how jittery she was getting, and besides, Elizabeth was also suddenly aware of a physical need that had nothing to do with love. "Joan, will you excuse me a moment? I need to go pee."
"Sure, if you don't mind leaving me alone in your room." Elizabeth was in an old, austere dorm building: it didn't provide individual facilities for the students, but shared restrooms and shower rooms. Elizabeth had to go down the hallway to go to the bathroom.
By the time Elizabeth came back, she had just about made up her mind to forget the story and accept the date with Trevor. But Joan was enthusiastic. "Elizabeth, this story is great! The way it traces how a single mistake can have bad ripples and dominate a life… I think you have a chance at winning."
"Are you sure?"
"My Mom and my husband have participated in art contests over the years. This is literature and not painting, but I think I have an instinct for knowing what will win."
Yes, if Joan had anything, it was good instincts. She would have the craziest ideas, and somehow they would WORK.
After Joan left, Elizabeth gathered all the history files and forwarded them to Trevor. Then she sat at the computer and pondered whether to write a note to the boy, agreeing to forego the contest and go to the movie with him. But Joan's praise had affected her, and she didn't want to simply throw away a possible honor. It wasn't simply the contest money; she wanted to know whether she had found her vocation or not. And she heard Grace Polk's voice in her head: Don't ever sacrifice yourself for a man. It's too nineteenth century. Elizabeth knew Grace sometimes seemed besotted with Joan's brother, so she had to wonder if Grace was even following her own advice..
She wrote the note, but wound up not sending it.
The next morning, as she was walking across campus to her first class, her cell phone rang again.
"Hello?"
"Liz, this is Trevor. Your story is marvelous!"
"My story?"
"I read it twice, and I quite understand why it's so important to you. Go ahead and finish it – though I think it will do as it is. Never mind the cinema. I can get a DVD of the movie and we can watch it later."
"But how did you get my story, Trev?"
"Don't you remember? You sent it to me last night, with the history articles."
"I didn't mean to – oh, crap, I must have clicked on it by accident while getting all the files together."
"I wouldn't say 'crahp', Liz." The swear word seemed like a foreign word on his tongue, it even sounded a little refined in his accent.. "And if it was an accident, it was a good one. Maybe you can take a lesson from this, Liz. Life isn't always orderly and logical. God can come out of a machine sometimes. Maybe you could send the story as it is. It's true to life."
"All right!" said Elizabeth, excited. "I'll do that, and I'll go to the movie with you tonight – and afterwards, we'll see. Trevor, I love you!" It suddenly occurred to her that it was the first time she had uttered the words to him.
"I love you, Elizabeth." This time she COULD read the emotion on the other end of the line – great relief, on finally winning the girl of his dreams.
……..
The next day, Joan met with another Cute Boy, though this was one was not from England or anywhere else on Earth.
"Mission accomplished," she said. "The two lovebirds are together."
"They certainly are," agreed Cute Boy God. "Though sending the story from your friend's computer to the boy while she was in the restroom was an odd way to go about it. If Elizabeth finds out you fiddled with her Email, she might be quite annoyed."
"I don't think she'll investigate the matter," said Joan. "She's too happy. She thinks she sent it in a fortunate accident. If it happened in a story, she'd call it a Deus ex Machina." It also occurred to Joan that it was a little odd that Elizabeth had to go to the bathroom at the most convenient moment, leaving Joan logged into her computer. She wondered if divine interference with human biology had something to do with that. She definitely wasn't going to ask God about that. It would be too weird. And another, far more interesting train of thought occurred to her.
"You know," Joan pondered. "It seems that my whole life recently has been a "Deus-ex-machina". Four years ago, I was an aimless, gawky girl. It's because of you that I met Grace and Adam – learned to exert myself in school – took an interest in a lot of things – started thinking more deeply about life. If it weren't for You, I'd probably still just be lost."
"Don't worry about it, Joan. A deus-ex-machina may be a flaw in a story, but it's good for a life. Besides, what sort of machine do you think I came out of?"
There was a sudden electronic noise from a nearby dorm, where a student had turned the volume too high on her TV.
THE END