Job 2.0 Read online

  Perturbed, Lucifer asked, “Could we continue?”

  “As they say, ‘you called this meeting.’”

  “Yes, I did. Now, to get back on track—this time I pick the target.”

  “You already said that.”

  “Do you always have to be right?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Don’t do this to me!” exclaimed Lucifer.

  “Do what?” God asked. He knew the answer. God knew all the answers. Such was God. It was important for Lucifer to ask the question, and to find the answer—on his own.

  “Don’t get me off track!” Lucifer said with exasperation.

  “How?”

  “Asking questions!”

  “It is important to find answers. Such is life.”

  “Do you always have to be so—so—?”

  “So…what?”

  “Godlike!”

  “It’s my nature,” God confirmed. In a matter of fact, tone, and with solemn dignity he added, “I am the I AM.”

  “Ugh! I hate that description of you! It’s too—too—”

  “Too inclusive—too complete? Too all-encompassing—too final?” God could have gone on forever.

  “Too everything! It’s so over the top. Too…too…too much like God!”

  “But I am God.”

  “That is exactly what I am trying to deal with!” cried Lucifer. “Why do you get to be God?”

  There was silence throughout the universe.

  God sighed.

  After some time, which seemed an eternity, Lucifer asked with forced calmness, “May we return to the original subject?”

  “Of course, it’s your—”

  “Meeting!” completed Lucifer. Frustrated he continued, “Why, why, why do I feel like we’ve done this before?”

  “Before what?” God was having some more fun.

  “Stop it, stop it! If we get into one of your time-loop things, I’ll quit again!”

  “Fine, you can relax—no time loops. Now, in the present, let’s get back to your ideas on the choice of target.”

  “Okay, okay. To begin, this time he’s not wealthy.”

  “Interesting…go on.”

  “Go on? I’ve got nothing more. We just start with a regular guy—that’s it.”

  “But then what?” God was playing dumb—doing it quite well. As a matter of fact, God did everything quite well. Actually, he did it perfectly. That’s God—all love, all good, all everything, all done to perfection.

  In response to God’s question, Lucifer offered, “We, or more to the point, I, dump on him. Yes, I dump on him Big Time!” Lucifer liked the dumping role. It was easier to tear things down than build them up. God does his work, I do mine, Lucifer thought. He’s the yin, and I’m the yang. Or is it the other way around? Whatever.

  “After you dump on him—destroy his life—what then?” asked God.

  “Beats me. I just came up with the new start. Let’s see how it goes, okay?”

  “Deal!” God said.

  When God said “deal,” it’s a bona fide cinch. You could trust God.

  Lucifer gave God a thumbs-up, smiled, and said, “Infinite, eternal, all knowing—I have to admit, at times it does make sense for me to trust you.”

  THE TARGET

  God looked down upon the Earth and asked his visitor, “Who did you pick, Luce?”

  Lucifer was all smiles because God used his nickname. As an inside joke, God pronounced it as “loose.” But joking aside, it was a real honor to have God use your nickname. Especially, if he gave it to you.

  Lucifer puffed himself up in recognition of the honor, pointed below at a very ordinary man, and proudly exclaimed, “Him!”

  “Who is he?” asked God, feigning not to recognize one of his creations. (Another divine faux pas.)

  “Come on, Boss. You know him! That’s our guy…he’s known officially as Jacob Osborne Brown, Junior!”

  “Cute,” said God. “His initials are J.O.B. And he is a junior, a second. That makes our guy a Job number two. I like it.”

  “It’s marketing!” crowed Luce. “Like I said, I’m always marketing. Gotta think ahead to identify all the promotional angles.”

  “Promotional angles?”

  “Yes. I’m thinking about the marquee appeal of his name. You know—as presented on billboards and bumper stickers. The eye-appeal image for all the collateral sales items is extremely important. I can see it now on a movie poster. ‘The story goes on—you must see Job Two!’ or just ‘Job 2!’ I could use ‘Job II!’ And maybe even, ‘Job, Too!’ Is that too far out? Whatever it is I can see it on tee shirts, coffee mugs, hats—all the usual stuff—and more—much more!”

  Lucifer was on a roll. He had always been big into “making a buck.”

  Lucifer explained where his mind was focused. “For example, right now you and I are about to do a sequel. There are huge spin-off sales opportunities from sequels.”

  “Really?”

  “Now, you really are playing dumb.”

  God winked.

  Ignoring the wink Lucifer pressed on, explaining with a question. “Let me ask…how many ROCKY films are there?”

  God pretended to think about the answer even though he knew right off. God knew everything. “Including spinoffs?” he pondered aloud to draw the moment out. “Let me see…there’s ROCKY…ROCKY II…” He counted on his Godly fingers and finished with, “Six! No! It’s seven—and still counting.”

  “Still counting?” Lucifer asked. “You mean there will be more?”

  “Appears so…I do like Rocky,” God said with a smile.

  “Wow! Is Stallone infinite, too?”

  Still smiling, God replied, “No. It only seems so.”

  “Had me fooled. Oh well, it’s a good thing I stopped in for a visit anyway. I ought to call my broker and buy more movie stock.” (Lucifer was thinking investments for his retirement. You know, the nest egg thing.) “More ROCKY pics—wow! I can’t wait!” he happily shouted as he peeked over God’s shoulder to observe their target.

  **********

  Jacob Osborne Brown, Junior—Job Number Two—was simply Jake to his friends. Jake lived in a very typical nice house in an average neighborhood. To pay for his ordinary home Jake worked as a middle manager in a non-glamorous, but necessary, business. Jake made toilet paper.

  Jake thought he was exceptional, but he was as ordinary as they come. Jake was certain he was different, and that made him just like everyone else. Thinking he was exceptional while being ordinary actually proved that Jake was not special indeed. It’s a paradox. A paradox was one of those “God things.”

  Jake’s wife loved him about as much as other wives of middle managers loved their ordinary middle-manager husbands, which was not very much at all. She secretly wanted an upper-management lifestyle. In her world, lifestyle was everything. There were all types of lifestyles—too many to name. The important thing was to want a better lifestyle. Luce took credit for inventing the lifestyle, as well as lifestyle envy.

  Jake’s children were typical twenty-first-century kids—meaning they were self-absorbed, spoiled, perpetually bored, and lazy. They did not like or respect their father because they did not know him. They saw no benefit in knowing him. Instead of asking questions or attempting to learn about their father, they wasted most of their precious youth glued to video screens—small ones on phones and larger versions on oversized television sets. When not sitting trance-like before a mega screen they wandered aimlessly through life, staring at handheld ones.

  “You know, Luce, not knowing about your father is a common trait,” God sadly observed.

  “Don’t be so touchy, Boss.”

  “I have a right to be concerned. Once there was nothing, and then I—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” interrupted Lucifer. “I’ve heard this a million times—maybe more.”

  Tremors permeated the entire Universe.

  “Jeez,” muttered Lucifer. “Gimme a break. I’m tir
ed of hearing about you being the Creator, and all that goes with it. On Earth we have other interests, you know.”

  “Other interests—like being tied up in your brand of mischief,” God observed as fact, and not a question.

  “I don’t want to hear your sour grapes over me being out on my own. Besides we have a game going,” Lucifer said as he pointed down on Earth. “Just looking at him has me excited. This time I’m gonna win!”

  Down below, Jake and most of everyone else were unaware of being watched. Happily ignorant, the people on Earth went about doing their business. Everything was okay. Everyone was in pursuit of a better lifestyle.

  Jake was at a place in his life that he described as “more than just okay.” Although at times he was vaguely anxious, Jake was very content. Lucifer described him as “fat, dumb, and happy.” It was not a paradox. It was his lifestyle. And Jake’s lifestyle was about to be turned on its head.

  “Hello, Number Two,” Lucifer whispered through his most sinister grin. “Get ready. I’m coming to visit you soon.”

  THE GAME

  Lucifer asked, “Boss, will the rules be the same as before?” He was itching to get started and wanted to “do some tearing up and dumping,” as he called his activities. “If I remember, I’m limited to just zapping his family and assets, right?”

  God felt generous. “Luce, this time you decide. I’ll only intervene after he is assaulted by you and reaches out to me. If indeed he does, then it will be my turn. But I’ll still allow you to come and go.”

  “No divine stacked deck this time?” Lucifer asked.

  “None, but I must say I am hurt that you would think I broke the rules in any way,” he said. God did not break rules. God usually made them. When God made rules they were simple, fair, and just.

  Lucifer played his angle. “Then you’ll agree that it’s okay for my legal department to whip up a few new items for the rule book?”

  “It’s your show, Luce.”

  “Deal!”

  God knew that when Lucifer said “deal,” it meant he would cheat by using the patchwork of incomprehensible rules his lawyers would concoct. God also knew he could step in (as the Creator of All Things), should Lucifer go too far. If needed, God would smooth things out. But that’s jumping ahead in this story.

  “Here goes!” Lucifer shouted. Eyes red, countenance black, he set to work on an unsuspecting Jake. Hypocritically he sneered, “Hello, my New Best Friend! Look out! I’m back in town and ready to rumble!”

  Jake would never consider using the name Luce or call Lucifer a friend, because what was about to happen could never be called friendship. When Lucifer said, “Hey, Friend!” he really meant, “Duck!”

  Although Lucifer was very misdirected, God did love his spirit and enthusiasm.

  When you had created everything, you would expect others to have a healthy work ethic. God did not like lazy, and Lucifer worked hard at being bad.

  With sadness God looked upon Earth and said, “This ought to be interesting. If nothing else, Luce is determined.” God then sighed, adding, “I do wish he had stayed with me in Heaven.”

  THE EVENTS THAT TESTED JAKE

  Sizing up his totally unaware target, Lucifer mused aloud as he prepared to make his opening move. “Okay, I want him to regret today more than any day in his puny life. Lucifer squinted and strained. “Let me see, let me see…hmmmm… It’s been a long while since I used one of my favorites. I think I’ll start with an old-fashioned bushwhacking.”

  Jake was about to be bushwhacked by an expert. Lucifer invented bushwhacking. He initiated this one with great relish.

  There is no warning in a bushwhacking. There is no “Hey, Friend, look out!” There isn’t even a “Duck!”

  Here’s how the sneak attack played out: down on Jake’s part of Earth it was a normal day, with Jake on his usual way home from the toilet-paper factory. Traffic was bumper to bumper; the humidity was high—matching the heat at ninety-three. Everyone was testy and irritable. Lucifer waved his hand and the A/C in Jake’s car went kaput. Lucifer loved kaput.

  “You are subtle,” said God. “Start with small frustrations—the little things do add up.”

  “Yep, they sure do. Now, watch this!”

  Lucifer added some blaring horns, a mosquito bite, and two pesky flies (the ones that buzzed incessantly and literally drove you insane). Although Jake quickly got irritated with his situation he did not act crazy. He kept his composure.

  “Darn,” Lucifer said, already bored. “He’s Mister Cool and Calm. I need to escalate the tempo of things—get him to react.”

  God drummed his perfect fingers and watched. Let’s see what he cooks up, God mused. He likes to tear down humans because I made them in my image.

  “I want some real excitement!” cried Lucifer.

  It came in a millisecond, which was simultaneously a long and short time for God.

  Lucifer jumped up and down, cheered, and waved his hands. Wham! Jake’s car was violently rear-ended and shoved into the one in front of him. Jake experienced multiple injuries, cracked eyeglasses, a broken nose, and a whiplash, just to name a few results from the crash.

  Lucifer giggled as he watched a sore and shaken Jake pound on the steering wheel, wince in pain, and scream at the car behind him. “Foul language and road rage will be provided at no extra charge,” Lucifer quipped.

  The accident tied up traffic and caused frustration and irritation to fester and grow. A lot of people were mad about being delayed. Exchanging insurance information and talking to the police seemed to go on forever. People turned upon each other in an ill-tempered chain reaction, and many of them focused their rage at both Jake and the driver who hit him. Everyone was miserable. Lucifer was beside himself with joy. He danced about giving himself high fives.

  Lucifer looked at God, danced some more, and smirked. “Sometimes ya gotta destroy in order to create!”

  God nodded, then said, “I know. Remember the flood?”

  Lucifer’s smirk disappeared. He looked away and muttered, “Always right, always right. Darn, he’s always right!” To God he yelled, “I’m not done yet! I’ve got more!”

  God kept to the rules. Although he wanted to, he did not intervene. I must be patient, God thought. I’ve got time. In fact, I’ve got all the time there is.

  It was a while before Jake could head for home. Finally he did. And Jake felt relieved when the nearly demolished family sedan limped into the driveway of his ever so ordinary house. But the relief lasted only for a moment. Soon a new rain of crap began to fall on Jake, compliments of his new bushwhacking friend.

  “Duck,” whispered Lucifer. “Here come some of my favorite jabs at domestic bliss.”

  Jake’s son Trey sat handcuffed in the rear seat of a police cruiser parked in front of the house. An officer explained that an assault with a deadly weapon incident was more than enough to warrant holding the boy while “some other things were worked out.”

  “Other things?” a confused Jake asked. “What other things?”

  “Dealing, soliciting to deal, conspiring to…well…you know…things,” answered the policeman.

  Jake was speechless.

  “Oh! I forgot to mention his jaywalking and littering,” the policeman said as he entered the cruiser.

  Dumbfounded by the spectacle of his son’s arrest, a final message was left ringing in Jake’s ears by the policeman: “Oh yeah, and charges for the illegal manufacturing of drugs will be added for the meth lab we found in his bedroom. Also there are some overdue library books still not accounted for. Mister, you’ve really raised a one-man crime wave.”

  The lad did not look up as the police car disappeared.

  Jake silently stared at his feet, wondering where he had gone wrong with raising his son. “I never saw any of this coming,” he mumbled, “never saw it coming, never saw it at all.”

  Before Jake could reflect or recover, another jab landed. His daughter Elle exited the house and walked past he
r father without uttering a sound. She headed to the curb, where her pierced and tattooed boyfriend impatiently straddled his idling motorcycle. Elle paused to dab some white powder on her wrist and then snorted it expertly through one nostril.

  “C’mon, babe,” the boyfriend shouted as he handed her a quart of malt liquor wrapped in a brown paper bag, “we’ve got places to be and movies to make!” The boyfriend had purchased his bike by directing low-budget porn videos. Elle, his current star, gulped from the offered bottle, washed down a double dose of Molly, and mounted behind him on the cycle. Boyfriend revved the cycle and they disappeared.

  Jake stood before his home in total shock as a million thoughts ping-ponged inside his head. Even though his children had routinely ignored him, Jake loved them deeply. Tears ran down his cheeks.

  “Got ‘em good!” Lucifer bragged as he danced his little shuffle step again.

  “I’d say so,” God commented flatly. “Think he’s had enough?”

  “Nope,” answered Lucifer. “I’ve got more. Watch this!”

  Just then, Mrs. Brown—Jennifer—known as Jen-Jen to her most intimate friends, exited the house in the company of Lionel, a male neighbor. They were leaving to set up a new household—in honor of Lionel’s promotion into the ranks of upper management. He worked for the local grocery store, where the two met daily to engage in trysts, taking place in a stockroom under the watchful eye of the store’s security camera. Unknown to Lionel and Jen-Jen, the store’s staff scheduled their breaks around the couple’s dalliances, which they recorded and watched more religiously than the most popular soap opera. Also unknown to the pair was that a triple X collection of the couple’s most heated moments was about to be launched on YouTube, Netflix, HBO, and HULU. Elle’s boyfriend had arranged the editing, packaging, and promotion.

  “Jennifer!” cried Jake in dismay. “Where are you going?”

  “Away!” she replied. “I am getting away from you, you pitiful loser. I am leaving to be with someone who can give me the things I want.” She pointed at Lionel’s car. “That is a 7 series BMW!”

  The car was crammed full with her suitcases and clothing bags.