ANOTHER JOAN?

Chapter 4 The Game's Not Afoot

Le style c'est l'homme meme (the style is the man) -- Count Buffon

It's her, thought Adam. The girl who supposedly talks to Jesus.

He told himself not to be too aggressive. Let Jane do the heavy sleuthing. Just play the friendly grown-up and keep her talking. Fortunately Adam had had a lot of practice in sounding out of touch.

"It's odd," Adam remarked, picking up a finer pencil, "but there's an odd consensus in Art of how Jesus is supposed to look. You can always pick him out of a painting. Tall, flowing hair with a brownish tinge, a beard--"

"They've got it all wrong," said the girl. "He's short, and His hair is completely black."

"How do you know?" asked Adam, making it sound like a game

"I just do." The girl looked around nervously. "Do you know where I can find a Ms. Golightly?"

"Girardi? Yeah. Just down that hallway, third office on the left."

"Thanks." The girl started off, then hesitated and turned back toward Adam. "Um, you won't tell my parents I was here, will you? They think I'm riding my horse in the park."

"Who are your parents?" Adam asked with feigned casualness. At this point it sounded like a logical question to ask.

"The O'Briens." She went off again as Adam made a mental note of the name. Detain the girl any further and she might get suspicious. Presumably she had heard of her parents' visit somehow and wanted to get her side of the story in with Lily. Adam would love to know what they were saying, but there was a limit to how much his conscience would let him pry.

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He wasn't able to discuss his findings immediately with Joan, however. He couldn't call from the church for fear that Lily or her friends might overhear. When he got home, it was another night to have dinner at the senior Girardis' house. After dinner was one of the few "windows" in which they could communicate with Grace over the time difference: early evening in Arcadia, pre-midnight hours in Italy. Luke invited the couple into his makeshift bedroom after some private exchanges with his girlfriend.

We're through with the riding tests, Grace typed. They know I can handle a mount on rough terrain now. But it reminds me that I need to do something about my own horse, Polly, now that I know I'm not coming home soon. It would be awkward to offer her back to the Beghs, but I can't just sell off a gift.

Ask your father, Luke returned. As a rabbi he might know of some worthy charities that could use her.

Good idea. In the meantime, you can ride her if you like.

Luke changed the subject. Having broken his leg in his last attempt, he obviously did not intend to get back on a horse any time soon, particularly since he had only been riding to impress Grace. What are you doing now?

I'm going to start studying Italian now, Grace typed. Not just to get by while I'm here, but it'll be good practice for later. Hopefully, with Italian and Hebrew under my belt, I'll be able to learn local languages more easily when I travel.

Good strategy, Luke typed back. Learn the basic principles, and each language will be just a specific example.

What about you guys?

"What do I tell her?" Luke asked them. "Do you want to mention that weird girl?"

"No," said Adam. "Just tell her I've started a new picture for Lily's church." His wife gave him an odd look but did not argue.

It wasn't until they were in bed in his studio that Adam told Joan his thoughts in full. "That description of Jesus was interesting. Lischak told us once that people of past generations tended to be shorter than us, because of different foods they ate. And a guy from the Middle East probably would have purely black hair. Maybe she really is talking to the real Jesus. Jane, I think that we should stop the snooping I'm starting to enjoy the painting for its own sake, anyway."

"No," said Joan. "Something's fishy."

"Jane, are sure you're not just channeling that California friend of yours, Veronica Mars? Finding a mystery where there isn't one?"

"There IS a mystery," insisted Joan. "Look at it this way. In the three years that I've been talking to Him, God has been very careful never to cite one particular religion as the "true" one. He's asked me to look at the various religious books in my store -- the Torah, the Christian Bible, the Koran, the Baggy-Giddy book from India -- but He's never cited one particular scripture as the most accurate. The only time He asked me to attend a religious service was Grace's bat mizvah, and that was for Grace's sake."

"Um, yes," said Adam, seeing what she was driving at.

"Now He's taking the form of Jesus, the founder of one specific religion? It's not His style. . Somebody's impersonating Him, in order to take advantage of the girl. We got to save her."

"Yeah," Adam acknowledged, reluctantly. Argument on the basis of style had a particular appeal to him as an artist. But could the argument be applied to a God Whom none of them really understood?.

"At least you found out a lot. Her last name's O'Brien, and she rides horses in the park. Could you draw me a sketch of her?"

"In the morning. Only thing is, I need to stick with the painting. Father Ken and Lily are going to get suspicious if I drop it suddenly, now that we've got the information." He was a bit irked that his wife didn't seem to understand the importance of his painting in itself.

Adam continued with the work for the next two days. He finished with the Creation of Adam and started a new section, a reproduction of the Four Rivers Fountain with the towering Egyptian obelisk. The obelisk impinged on part of the Creation of Adam painting, at a very convenient spot.

Lily was late that day; a doctor's appointment, according to Father Ken. But she returned to the church in high spirits. When she saw the painting and saw what Adam was doing with the obelisk, she burst out laughing. "Usin' one phallic symbol to cover up another one? Very funny."

"You know about phallic symbols?" asked Adam awkwardly. This was not the sort of thing one usually discussed with one's sister-in-law.

"I've read up on standard psychology. Sometimes the people I counsel really do need their heads examined, so I need to know when to send them for professional help. Besides, it was on my mind at the moment."

"It was?"

"Adam, I've got to tell somebody the news. The doctor says Kevin and I are havin' a baby."

"Lily, that's wonderful!" Adam took a step toward her and hesitated. "Um, is it OK to hug somebody in church?"

"What, an ex-nun, married, and with a new baby inside? Absolutely not. But do it anyway."

Adam embraced her. The vague malaise of the past few days vanished as he contemplated the idea of new life. A new generation for the Girardi family. He and Joan had decided to wait a few years, but Lily was clearly delighted with the situation. "Can I tell Jane?"

"I'd rather you wouldn't. I'd like to spring it on the Girardi family all at once, tonight at dinner. Keep it under your hat?"

Adam tool off his beanie and pantomimed putting something on his head.

"Thanks."

At noon, Adam strolled to the nearest café, not because he was particularly hungry but because he had promised to call Joan during lunch. As he walked and punched his cell phone, he wondered what to say that wouldn't give away Lily's secret. As it turned out, Joan wasn't interested in gossip, but in solving her mystery. "Adam, it's great that you called. I got a new idea."

Adam groaned.

TBC

Joan, mangling long words as usual, is trying to refer to the Bhagavad-Gita.