Stupid Joey told me a couple of spoilers from the series (man, I hate being so behind in the episodes)! Oh well, works for me anyway, I rewrote a few things in this chapter based on what Joey "let slip", and I'm sure all of you who are up to date with the series episodes unlike me will be glad. So thank you for that, blabbermouth Joey McGregor. But be warned: any more "slips" and something very bad might happen to blue jacket girl /God.
Note to Innogen: no, I wasn't talking about you. Sorry for the misunderstanding. I was talking to my good mate, Sebastian Melmoth (The Original Chemist), who has an FF.net account but hasn't posted anything other than his own very elaborate (tho quite nifty) bio, and some reviews. I thought I would get him to post something once and for all.
Disclaimer: don't own anything except the plot.
Dear Joey ever-so-charmingly dubbed this chapter something really cute, but since it's my style (and Sebastian says I've got a weird lyrics fetish), I'm gonna stick with my custom of naming chapters after a title or piece of lyric of a song that inspired me during the writing of the chapter. So here goes (don't laugh).
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Brand New Day – by In the darkNess
Where do we go, nobody knows
Don't ever say you're on your way down when
God gave you style and gave you grace
God put a smile upon your face
-- Coldplay, God put a smile upon your face --.
Chapter Four: God put a smile upon your face (a.k.a "Are you there, Adam? It's me, God")
Adam kicked at the dirt and huffed. He was roaming around the school grounds, which had just been cleared by all the students that hung outside during recess. He really didn't feel like going to class right now. There was no one around, so he had the chance to be alone out there, to have some time to think. And he needed to think a lot. Dropping his bag to the ground, he sat underneath a nearby tree and put his head in his hands.
Why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to feel this torn? It was frustrating. He wanted to forgive Joan, to be friends with her again, but then he would remember what she had done, the images flashing through his head like a nightmare, and he would feel hurt again. What she had said in the library, how could she possibly be telling the truth? He didn't understand why she would make up a story like that, and it didn't help to change his mind at all. What Joan had done was unforgivable, and as much as it pained him to shut her out, he couldn't bring himself to let her back in.
Adam sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was painful to lose his friend, to lose this girl who had once meant so much to him. There was a large void in him, a void that stretched between two visions of Joan; the Joan he had fallen for, and the one who had broken his heart.
All week he'd had to endure his own stubbornness, the battle of the heart and the mind. A part of him was eager to hold on to that grudge, while the other part was willing to let go, willing to be forgiving, just because it was Jane.
But he hadn't understood why she had done it.
He didn't know which part of him was right and which one was wrong. And now there was a new side to the coin.
The truth. Could it really be the truth, everything she had just told? Back when he first met her, perhaps he would have believed her without hesitation. But now, nothing made sense. He found himself questioning her honesty, even her integrity. And he questioned himself and his reason, the reason why he had imagined her to be special, why she was worth so much to him in the first place.
It had all changed. Joan had not only shattered his sculpture that day; she had shattered herself. Broken in Adam's mind. He never would have thought it possible. He never would have wanted it to happen.
Adam closed his eyes for a moment, and cleared his mind. He forgot about Joan, forgot her face, forgot everything about her. He only listened to the silence around him. It was relieving not to think about her for a while.
"Aren't you supposed to be in there?"
Adam's eyes flew open, and he saw a tall black man standing a few feet away. He wore a jumpsuit and carried a large sack and a stick, with which he picked up papers and litter. Adam was a bit startled; he could have sworn there was no one around just a second ago. It was like this guy dropped out of thin air.
At the sight of Adam's flummoxed expression, the man jabbed his thumb in the direction of the school.
"Oh," Adam breathed, "yeah, I know. But our calculus teacher is always late. It's okay."
The man shook his head. "That's not what I meant," he said. "Isn't there a conversation with Joan you left unfinished?"
Not sure if he heard correctly, Adam shook his head slightly, as if to clear his mind. "Pardon?"
The man impaled what looked like a crumpled milk carton and dropped it in the sack. "You heard me. Why do you put it off again and again? You know you will eventually forgive her, even if you don't forget what happened."
Adam stood up slowly. His forehead creased and then he let out a chuckle. "Whoa, hold on a second," he said. But when he looked at the guy in front of him, he fell silent.
A smile was playing at the corner of the man's lips, half-hidden by his mustache. "No, you're not hallucinating, and yes, you heard correctly," he said.
Adam looked around, half-expecting someone to pop out of a bush and tell him they were just playing with his mind. No one else was around. He stared at the man up and down, looking utterly bewildered.
"I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Before I answer that, let me tell you what I think about this whole conflict of opinions you've got going on," the man replied, ignoring Adam's confused expression. "I think you're afraid of what this might mean, this revelation; to hear it from someone like Joan. Because you know she couldn't possibly make something like this up. And you know you believe her. Yes, strangely enough, you do. But this creates a conflict for you, doesn't it? Because you don't believe in God the way most people do. He's not the merciful miracle-working omnipotent heavenly Father. To you, God is just the one who took your mother away."
Adam's breath caught in his throat. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but no sound came out.
The man leaned on his stick thoughtfully. "When your mother died, you were angry at her. Do you remember that? You were angry at her because she abandoned you. But you couldn't stay nearly as angry with her as you wanted to be, because you missed her so much.
"So you redirected that anger and aimed it at God. He was the one to blame for your mother leaving you. And you couldn't believe in what people say about everything happening for a reason. You didn't, couldn't, understand why your mother would want to die. So it had to be God's fault, right?"
He straightened up. "You do believe in God, but you're permanently angry at him. And between that anger and your sadness for your mother, your art was the only thing that helped you cope."
At this point, Adam was absolutely speechless. He realized he was leaning heavily against the tree now, because his legs threatened to give out from underneath his body.
"However, you nearly forgot all about your anger toward God, didn't you, when Joan came along," the man said as he continued with his work. "She had this peculiar effect on you when you met her; it's like she brought sense back to your life. In a way, Joan seemed to fill the emptiness that had been left in you after your mother's death. You realized this when you saw that Joan showed the same appreciation for your artwork as your mother had. And so you no longer made your sculptures for your mother alone, but for Joan too."
He began to walk around as he spoke, picking the litter, and Adam found himself following closely, immersed in what this stranger was saying.
"How—" Adam choked out finally, "How do you—"
"Know all this?" the man finished for him. "I thought you had figured it out by now. Didn't Joan just tell you all about me?"
Adam tried to straighten his thoughts, and he shook his head in disbelief. "But—but that's… that's—"
"Impossible? Why? How do you know for sure something is impossible?"
"I… don't know."
"Adam, it's the truth," the man said, grinning. "I am God."
"You… can't be?"
"Is that a question or a statement?"
"I don't know!" Adam practically shouted. He was vexed by all the questions. This was a bit frightening. This stranger knew way too much about him, about his life and his thoughts, and now he claimed to be God. He was afraid he was dealing with a psycho. That's couldn't mean anything good. Adam was ready to break into a run just in case.
He felt like he was about to be sucked into a whirlpool, and he suddenly felt dizzy. Before he let his paranoia take over, he looked intently at the guy in the jumpsuit, who was staring back just as fixedly. It was impossible for someone to know all this man knew; his private thoughts, his memories. It was impossible… for a regular person.
But not for God.
The man's grin reappeared as he studied Adam's change of expression. "It makes a lot of sense, and yet it makes none at all, right? I should know, it's not really something easy to accept," he said. He knew exactly what Adam was thinking.
Adam made a noise between a snort of laughter and a scornful sniff, and his disbelieving expression turned to a frown. He was imagining this, he was hallucinating. Without a second glance, he went back to the tree and picked up his bag.
"This isn't real," he muttered mostly to himself. "You're not real." He added, pointing an accusing finger at the stranger.
"It's not over, Adam," the man called after him as Adam walked away.
"Oh, yes it is," Adam replied over his shoulder, and he climbed down the little steep hill that led to the street.
God followed Adam with His eyes, unfazed, and merely carried on with his labor. Adam stepped onto the sidewalk and made it to the corner of the building, and only turned once to see if the man was still watching him. But he was gone.
Feeling a bit vulnerable in the open, Adam rounded the school building and came to the entrance on the other side, the back side, facing the football field. As he came to the steps that led up to the door, an orange Frisbee landed at his feet. He picked it up and looked around, and saw a boy about six or seven years old, with mousy brown hair and dirty play clothes, running up to him from the football field, a large Golden Retriever jogging behind him.
"I suppose this is yours," Adam asked, and the kid nodded.
"Thanks, Adam," the boy said, taking back his Frisbee. Adam froze on the spot.
"Yeah, it's me again," the boy grinned. "See? This is what Joan was talking about. I thought I would give you a demonstration."
Nearly tripping over his own feet, Adam sat down on the steps and blinked hard. "God?" he asked in a low voice.
"There you go, I knew you'd catch on," God said gleefully, sitting beside Adam. "You're not one for skepticism, you know. It's just not you. Though I'm not saying you're gullible, either."
After a couple of seconds of straining his common sense, Adam managed to speak. "Wait. You expect me to believe you're God?"
"You already do, anyway. But it's really weird, isn't it, so I don't expect it to be so easy for you to realize you do," God explained. Adam wanted to laugh; it was funny listening to this little kid talking like a grown-up. "Same thing happened with Joan when I first visited her. Right here in the school, and I looked like a regular high school guy. She thought I was crazy. But she gave in, eventually. And you have, too. Otherwise, why don't you just get up and leave?
Adam stared at the boy curiously. Whether it was because he was dizzy or he actually wanted to listen to what this boy had to say, he didn't know, but he didn't move.
"You've always been very open-minded; it's sort of part of being an artist. With Joan, that was not the case; she's always been more skeptical. But she's changed a lot. Especially thanks to you. Remember when you told her you talked to angels? She didn't laugh. Why would she? She talks to me," God said. "Or rather, with me."
Adam nodded. There was something comforting about listening to this innocent-looking child talk about Joan. He hadn't ever talked about Joan with anyone.
"When she was telling me about G--, well, you, in the library," Adam started, because he needed to say out loud what he was thinking, so he could put it in perspective, "I didn't believe it right away. But somehow I didn't think she was lying either. I was thrown off. I guess that's one of the reasons why I left like that."
"I understand," God replied. "I suppose it must sound very strange."
"It's bizarre. I'm still not sure I believe it."
God rolled His eyes. "I thought we had agreed that you do," He said. "Anyway, Joan was telling the truth. Why would she make up a story like that?"
Adam didn't answer. God petted the dog's head absently-minded.
"She's been wanting to tell you everything practically since you met. She thought you were perhaps the only person who would ever believe her. I just didn't let her until now. I had to measure the consequences."
"And why let her now?"
"Because Joan's a good person. She's never disappointed me. She's learned a lot since we met. I thought I would give something back to her," God began, smiling broadly. "She really wanted to work things out with you. And what better way to do that than by clearing things up with the truth?"
Once again, Adam was speechless.
"She was right. You do believe her," God added with a wink. "You've always thought there's something special about Joan. Now you know what that is."
A whole minute passed and neither of them spoke. Adam breathed deeply and looked sad. He didn't know what to say, he didn't even know what to think.
Suddenly, the dog sprang up and growled, and then it took off like a rocket and disappeared around the corner. Adam and God stood up and watched it go.
"I'll go get it," Adam said, and he ran after the dog. When he came around the corner, he nearly crashed head-on into a girl.
"S-sorry," he mumbled, making sure she didn't fall off her feet, before he moved away. But she held him by the sleeve of his jacket.
"It's okay, Adam, you don't have to go after the dog. It's not mine, I was just playing with it for a while," she said. Adam was stunned silent again. God was really starting to make him feel dizzier than he already did. This time it was a brown-haired, blue-eyed girl with a blue jacket, and she smiled at him as if he were an old friend.
"Could you not do that anymore? It's freaky."
God shrugged. "Sorry. Just thought I would clear any doubt you might have left; you know, in case you still need proof."
"I see," Adam muttered.
"You know, I should probably tell you to go to class, because you're already late, but since we're having such a nice little chat, I will overlook that," She said. Adam sniffed. This was a nice little chat? His head was beginning to throb from all the shocks he was getting. God seemed not to notice. "So, where were we?" She asked. "Oh yeah: Joan."
She leaned casually against the brick wall. "She's been giving herself way too much of a hard time, you know," She said, and Adam noted She sounded a lot like a girl dishing a piece of gossip to a friend. "True, she could have come up with something better to do than destroy your sculpture. That was rash. But she knew what she had to do, and she did it. We already know what could have happened if she hadn't."
She gave Adam a significant look, and Adam glared. He didn't like the turn the conversation had taken. "Now wait a second, you don't understand—"
"What don't I understand?"
Adam tried to think of a comeback, but realized it would be senseless. He knew God had to be right; and he suddenly felt embarrassed. God sighed.
"You have to look at it this way: it's not just about what you study in books or the grades you get, it's what you learn from your experiences on every day. That's what makes school important," She explained. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Adam nodded. He couldn't meet the blue eyes examining him.
God smiled again. "But that's not what this is about, completely," She proceeded. "Because you already know that, right?"
"Yeah," Adam replied, the blush on his cheeks disappearing.
"Getting back on track; Joan was only trying to protect you. Can you believe she actually began to doubt me? She reasoned there was a slight chance the devil could pass off as me. It's not such a farfetched idea, considering that when I asked her to take your sculpture out of the show, she immediately thought I was asking her to do something mean. You were really excited about the show," She added with a smirk. "She really cares about you, more than you know. And if by doing what I told her, she could end up hurting your feelings, then she wouldn't do it. And she was happy for you when you sold your sculpture. But then she learned why it was so important that she did what I had told her to do. And if she really cared about you, she would finally complete her task."
Pausing to think about it for a moment, Adam looked suspiciously at the girl beside him. "You didn't ask her to specifically destroy my sculpture, did you?"
"No, I asked her to get it out before the show. Since she didn't manage that, she had to find another way. Apparently she doesn't react very well in difficult situation."
Adam's face darkened. The memory of that day replayed itself in his head for the thousandth time.
"She should have talked to me. I would have listened to her," he said in a small voice.
"Are you absolutely sure about that?"
Adam was going to say yes, but he hesitated.
"Joan knew that, if she had only done as I asked in the first place, she wouldn't be in this situation, you wouldn't be in this position, and I wouldn't be in the middle of it all… but maybe being in this position isn't so wrong for you."
Adam had no idea what God meant. There was something very painful going on in his head. He couldn't think about Joan without feeling pain. And he couldn't look at God, no matter the shape He took, without feeling anger. He was getting tired of being told by this supposed God that he was wrong about everything.
Adam was starting to feel as if he had lost the ability to think for himself. And God was the one who would tell him what to think and feel. Whatever happened to his free will?
And what was God doing there in Arcadia, anyway, talking trivialities with Adam, when there were catastrophes going on right now in the whole world? When elsewhere on the planet, people were starving to death, or suffering devastating diseases, or killing each other in war?
This girl had no right to be smiling friendlily at him.
"You know," Adam began after much pondering, "maybe you're not as almighty as everyone thinks you are."
God's unblinking eyes were staring into Adam's intensely, but Adam didn't waver. He knew She had to know what he was thinking. "If you're so powerful and great, why can't you do all those things on your own, instead of having Joan do them? Why would you need to use a 16-year-old high school student to run your errands?"
He adjusted the strap of his bag around his shoulder, ready to leave. "I don't reckon it makes me feel any better or safer in this forsaken world to know that the Lord's deeds depend on a teenager," he added spitefully, and he walked away.
Not looking once over his shoulder, he came around the corner of the building again, up the hill and onto the grounds where he had been roaming around before. There was a bench near the doors, and he plopped down, putting his head in his hands, like he always did when he felt overwhelmed. He began to mull over his conversation with so-called God, and his head throbbed again and his chest tightened.
Memories flooded back to him, recalling emotions he couldn't hold back in moments like this. Tears filled his eyes as he remembered the pain he felt when his mother killed himself, when he realized his life would never be the same. He would always wonder why she did it. He would always wonder why it had to happen to him. What was God thinking? Why couldn't He give Adam a break?
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He just wanted to forget about everything. He didn't want to think about anything that was wrong with his life, for at least a moment. Not about his mother, not about Joan, and especially not about God.
He was pointlessly battling with his emotions, when he felt someone sit next to him. Looking up slowly, he saw a guy about his age, with dark hair and a brown jacket, beside him. It was cute boy / God. But Adam didn't know him; he'd never seen this guy before. However, he sensed he already knew who it was.
None of them said anything for a long time. They both stared ahead, watching the dog God had been playing with earlier, the Golden Retriever, barking up at the tree Adam had sat beneath. It had chased a squirrel up the tree and made a whole lot of racket expecting to get it to come down.
"Before you say or think anything else regarding my omnipotence," God began, "I think there is something we have to clear up first.
"I'm sorry your mother's suicide caused you so much pain. But you have to understand, it was meant to be. I don't expect you to understand the mysteries of mortality. But there are reasons for everything, and I don't think I should have to explain those reasons to you or anyone. It doesn't make much of a difference anyway. You just have to have faith."
God glanced at Adam, but Adam stared as intently as he could at the tree in front of him, at the barking leaping dog. He didn't want to think about his mother; he couldn't.
"Why not? You always think about her," God knew what was going through his mind again. "No matter why she did it, you will always love her. And she will always love you."
A tear slipped down Adam's cheek, and he shut his eyes hard, trying to contain the rest. Not here, not now; he would not cry and feel sorry for himself. What good would that do? God's words had a powerful effect on him. While the memory of his mother pained him, the sincerity in God's words brought him a sort of comfort he had never felt. And he suddenly felt sorry for everything; for losing his faith, for shutting Joan away. He hadn't realized how screwed thing were right now.
"You're a good person, Adam," God said, smiling as Adam wiped away the tear. "Which is why I felt I had to give something back to you, too." He looked around casually. "That is how you met Joan."
Adam gawked at Him in surprise. God grinned.
"Oh, you didn't know that, did you?" He teased. They both fell silent, looking thoughtful. "It's obvious Joan will never fill the void your mother left," God continued, "but she grew in you. For all her mysterious ways –which are not so mysterious anymore, though—, she became an important part of your life. From the moment she approached that way no one ever had before." He turned to meet Adam's questioning eyes. "But you were insecure."
"It's always scary to fall in love. Not knowing if the person you love feels the same way about you."
"You think I'm in love with Joan?" Adam asked, but he realized he didn't sound very convincing. God gave him a sideways glance, and Adam understood there was no point in denying it. Unconsciously he blushed.
"Do you think… well, does she know?"
God sighed. "She knows; but she doesn't know she does. Just like you know she actually feels the same way, but somehow you haven't realized it yet."
He smirked at Adam's mouth-agape reaction, and He pointed a finger at his face. "See?"
"Are you sure?"
"Joan didn't know how much she really cares about you, how much you really mean to her, until you weren't there anymore. Until she felt she had lost you. Doesn't it happen to everybody? 'You don't know what you've got until it's gone'. She knows that now, and she's been pretty down since then." God leaned back in the bench. "The thing is, Joan needs you, you know, just as much as you need her."
Adam swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't speak for a while, and he knew God was expecting him to say something. He finally found his voice.
"Every time I want to forgive her, I remember that day. Seeing her standing there in the gym, the chair in her hands, and my sculpture in pieces on the floor," he said, his voice distant and barely audible. "She knew how much it means to me; my art. How it reminds me of my mom." He swallowed again. "It was really hurtful to see her destroy it like that, no matter what her intentions were. Because she didn't trust me enough to try to talk to me first, and that only makes it worse."
He couldn't be angry anymore. He just felt sad.
"No," God responded. "She didn't think you would trust her."
Adam shook his head. "But how am I supposed to get past what she did?"
"If you really care about her, you just do," God answered. "I know it sounds corny, but bottom line is, you can't stay mad at someone who makes you laugh. Same principle applies to someone who makes you smile, who makes your life better just by being a part of it. You know it, because she's Jane. And she's your Jane."
"How can you know all this?" Adam asked in amazement. It was still difficult to believe, he felt a bit like he was dreaming.
God chuckled. "It's not every day two good friends fall in love with each other," He confided. "And I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Adam was silent. He looked at the guy next to him, at the sincerity reflected in His eyes. And he smiled to himself, thinking about Jane.
God promptly stood up. "You better get in there," He said.
"Why?" Adam asked automatically, causing God to roll his eyes.
"You sound a lot like Joan," He muttered. "Just do it. Have a little faith, Adam." Adam smirked apologetically and got up.
"Just remember: time heals all wounds. It is you, however, who decides how long you're willing to wait." They smiled at each other, and Adam walked toward the double doors. He took a deep breath and exhaled before going back into the building.
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Just one more chappy to go. I cannot tell you how much I want to get over this fic. Better be done with it before the rest of la familia show up, or I won't have time. Things have been pretty calm around here lately. The chaos starts when the Canavaggios arrive. Yay, Tough Cookie is coming!!!
Thanks to Joey for being beta reader. She's my biggest fan. I love her, even when she spoils the series for me. Love ya, Joey!!!
I've seen "Drive, He said" some eight times already. I still think it's soooo funny. Luke's genius stupidity cracks me up. That was a good episode.
Last chapter coming soon to a theatre near you.
Until then… ciao, amicos.
[ In the darkNess ]
