Winter Journeys

Chapter 3 Visits from God

Joan got her wish -- permission to "be the adult" and chaperone her younger brother on his trip. But two loose strings had to be tied up before she went.

After school on Wednesday, she showed up at her bookstore job, determined to get in touch with her boss Sammy somehow. To her surprise he was actually sitting at the rear at the store, looking at a long computer printout. She could guess what it was.

"Hitting the books?" asked Joan.

"Haha," he said. "Yes, and it's not pleasant reading. Do you realize how much sales have gone down while you've been here?"

Or you've been not here, Joan said to herself, but not out loud. "In that case, maybe you'll be willing to give me next week off. I'm going on a trip with my brother."

"Next week? During Christmas season? Who's supposed to manage the store?"

"You could, couldn't you? Or get some student who wants to make money over the holidays?"

"Suppose I discover that I can manage the store without you, and fire you?"

Joan looked at him, wondering if she should backpedal, when the bell over the front door rang, indicating that a customer had come in. Suddenly Sammy was all smiles.

It was Tough Guy God.

"Um, may I help you?" asked Sammy nervously, as if he expected the visitor to rob the place and kill the occupants.

"You got DVDs?"

"Um, yes, a few."

"I'm lookin' for 'IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE'. Every Christmas I watch it on TV, and it gets me right here." He pounded his chest with his fist. Sammy looked even more nervous at the gesture, as if imaging that fist striking his body at some point.

"I'll look for it," offered Joan.

"Good," said the Touch Guy, planting himself next to Sammy, and towering over him by almost a foot.

"Hmm, I can't find a DVD of it in stock. Will you settle for a VCR?"

"Yeah, I can use a tape." As Joan brought it to the counter, the Touch Guy looked down on Sammy. "Quick-witted assistant you got here. I hope you appreciate her."

"Um, yes."

The Tough Guy paid the price and went out the door. "Now," said Sammy, "as I was saying--"

The bell rang again. Old Lady God walked in, peering around the store and giving the impression of a slightly confused elderly woman.

"May I help you?" asked Sammy.

"I'm looking for a book, SlaughterHouse Five."

"YOU'RE looking for SlaughterHouse Five?" Sammy echoed.

"It's a Christmas present for my great-nephew."

"Oh."

"I've got it," said Joan, who had gone looking for the book while Sammy was wasting time being surprised.

"Thank you, little girl. You always know where to find things. You must be proud to have her as an employee," she added, turning to Sammy.

"Um, yes." He rang up the purchase, and the Old Lady went out.

"As you were saying--?" prompted Joan.

Sammy sighed. "Okay. You've got a good record with customers. You can have your vacation and keep your job. That's assuming that the bookstore stays open at all, and THAT's up to Redding and Associates up in Boston."

"Boston?" echoed Joan. I think I sense a ripple coming.

---------------

Later that evening, Joan arrived at Adam's house. Spotting a little girl alone on the sidewalk, Joan was concerned for her safety, then realized that it was Little Girl God.

"Hi," Joan said. "I want to thank you. It looks like you saved my butt back there." She took her hand as she continued toward Adam's shed.

"You're welcome," said the Little Girl, and started giggling.

"What's so funny?"

"How you humans use language. What I saved was your job, and by extension your self-respect and your economic situation. Your derriere was never in danger, but that's what you said I saved."

"Um, yeah, it's a metaphor."

"Actually, it's synecdoche -- the substitution of a part for a whole. In this case, your behind for your entire self. Which, in my opinion, undervalues your self."

"Am I going to be tested on this? Because I'm never going to remember sins and Dutch or whatever."

"Nope. You asked a question, and you often complain that I don't answer, so I did."

By that time they had reached Adam's shed, and Joan didn't have to answer. She knocked at the door.

"Jane! Come in. Hello, little girl."

"She's not a little girl, Adam," said Joan. "She's God."

"Ah, yes," Adam said lightly, obviously thinking that Joan was playing a game with the child. "Well, God, I'm Adam, but I'm afraid Eve isn't here."

"Isn't THAT her?" asked Little Girl God, pointing to a painting in the corner.

Joan followed her pointing finger, and blushed. A month ago, in a desperate attempt to convince Adam she still cared about him, she had posed for a sketch while naked to the waist, on condition that Adam wouldn't look at anything but her bare back. Now he had elaborated a painting around it, an undraped female figure in a forest. If Joan were not feeling embarrassed she would have judged it very beautiful. A well-placed bush hid the lower part of her body, leaving the viewer free to guess whether the figure was totally nude or not. Joan herself had left her jeans firmly fastened.

"Um, yes," said Adam, who was obviously worried if that was suitable material for a little child. "Eve, or a Greek nymph, I haven't decided."

"Or maybe an houri from Moslem legend," suggested Little Girl God.

"How do you--?" Adam stammered.

"As I said," repeated Joan. "This isn't a little girl, it's God. Remember when I told you that I was talking to God, and you thought that I was delirious from Lyme disease? It was true. That's why I've often been distant, or preoccupied, or holed up with Luke and Grace. We've been on missions for God. I wanted you to know that because I'm going on another mission next week."

"I can prove who I am, by telling you something Joan doesn't know," said Little Girl God. She pointed at "Eve" again. "That swirl of paint, you put that in all your paintings. It represents a curl of your mother's hair."

Joan had never known that. Even back when they thoroughly trusted each other, Adam never wanted to talk about his mother's tragic death. He looked in awe at the Little Girl, then turned to Joan.

"So it's true, Jane -- you haven't been distancing yourself at all--". He hugged her tightly, and Joan kissed him lovingly on the lips, relieved that all barriers between them were down.

And now, ironically, she knew that she could go off on her mission with a pure conscience.