Job 2.0 Page 3

  “Com’on, Jen-Jen,” Lionel coaxed. “We’re running late for my promotion party.” He flashed a toothy grin and quickly guided her toward the car. They were gone in an instant. The BMW was as fast as it was expensive.

  “Quite a show,” God said with a twinge of remorse in his voice. “Are you finished?”

  “Oh, no! Now, for frosting the cake!” squealed Lucifer.

  In a daze Jake walked zombie-like toward his home’s front door. On the way, he trod through three (count ‘em three!) piles of dog poop. Lucifer loved dog poop. Lucifer took credit for inventing it. God never challenged his claim.

  God observed Lucifer’s handiwork. “Very effective final insult—he indeed is ruined.”

  Lucifer beamed.

  “Why the change in tactics?” God inquired. “Last time you killed his children straightaway.”

  “I’m flattered,” replied Lucifer, glad that God noticed. But then again God didn’t miss much. In fact, he didn’t miss anything. “I admit this not my usual style, but it is more effective in the long run.”

  “It is a new approach for you,” God said.

  “It’ll work, trust me,” asserted Lucifer. “I’ve learned—oh, how I have learned!”

  “Care to share?” God liked to rhyme. God also liked silly songs, warm out-of-the-oven banana bread, and thin-crust pizza. He was not fond of lint, selfishness, bad breath, and of course, dog poop.

  “It’s simple,” Lucifer explained. “If people are dead they cannot continue to hurt one another.”

  “True.”

  “Yep. Just look at what people have done to him.”

  God looked down at Jake and saw a thoroughly defeated human being. God frowned and then sighed. The light level of the universe briefly dimmed.

  Lucifer grinned widely. “For humans, their satisfaction and meaning are tied up in material things. They think they think, but they do not think at all—they only want. In the old days it was just material things that I took away. But now I’ve added a new dimension—misery caused by those he loved. Look at him—the pain will go on and on and on. He will have to contend with lawyers, alimony, child support, bail, jail, and rehab. Last time, I killed off Job’s family and took away his wealth and health. But then you simply replaced everything. Not this time. Now this guy has the steady drip, drip, drip of all that hurt emanating from others.”

  “Indeed, Luce, you are a wonder!”

  Coming from God any compliment meant a lot. Lucifer enjoyed being good at being bad. To God he boasted, “I think I’ll copyright my motto!”

  THE CONVERSATIONS

  #1

  On Earth, where Lucifer had been targeting all his attentions, information was quickly shared between its inhabitants. News, or what passed for it, moved on airwaves, satellites, wires, and word of mouth, just to name some of the methods. Yet prayer—talking or communicating with God—was passé. It was seldom used. Moreover, it was barely mentioned. At least that was the perception by God. And he should know.

  God listened to prayers, and prayer volume had been steadily decreasing on earth. Jake did not pray. That was okay with God—he still cared. God never stopped listening, and caring, even if people did not pray very much.

  When people who knew Jake heard about his misfortunes, some were oddly glad. Germans call that feeling Schadenfreude—the joy one experiences over learning about the misfortune of others. The Germans named it, but Lucifer invented Schadenfreude.

  Since leaving God’s team Lucifer filled the Earth with many additional things that made life irksome. Irksomeness was a Lucifer thing. So was vexation.

  Other Lucifer inventions: lawyers, mosquitoes, late fees, burnt toast, nonfat dry milk, and diarrhea. He also chaired the meeting that produced the designated hitter rule in baseball. To be fair, Lucifer abstained during the vote because he had played shortstop on the best team in Heaven during his stint there as God’s Number Two. He also invented boils, bad breath, acne, hot flashes, and toe jam. Lucifer always got the chuckles when he thought about toe jam.

  “So, Luce,” asked God, “what’s next?”

  “Sure, like you don’t know.” Lucifer pointed at Jake’s house. “Before, with the first Job, we let life play out for a while. Now, I’m—”

  “Works for me,” God interrupted.

  “No, no, no! Not this time! Like I said, this time will be different. I’ll own him—just watch. His friends will come and go. And then be gone forever. They’ll offer advice and opinions, all of which will confuse and muddle his thinking. You stay out of this. In the end he will believe that you let it all happen. At that point I’ll be his anchor—then I’ll win!”

  “I take it that you sent divorce papers…and a pink slip?”

  “Yep, the pink slip was easy. His job was kaput as soon as the videos of his wife and daughter hit the Internet.” Lucifer giggled and said, “Get this—the HR department at the toilet-paper factory was told to ‘clean up the crap in his life!’” Lucifer doubled over in laughter. “They found a way to fire him—like they always do—and they made it funny to boot!”

  “What about his wife?”

  “Deeply embarrassed and emotionally injured by the videos, but able to soak him in the divorce, nonetheless.”

  “Really?”

  “Yep, she blamed him for her sexual excesses. Claimed she was ‘forced’ into promiscuity because he worked so much and neglected ‘her needs.’ The judge was sympathetic. He liked watching her in the videos.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Nothing says it has to be fair. It’s all about winning.”

  Lucifer had set up the legal system. Remember, he invented lawyers.

  *********

  Sometime later, actually on the day after his divorce was final, Jake put on a world-class garage sale. The idea came from his pals—the people he could trust most—the guys and one gal who were members of his fast-pitch softball team, the Misguided Saints.

  Over many years, through thick and thin, the Saints were Jake’s best and most loyal friends. They never missed a chance to “be there” for Jake. In this case it meant conducting a garage sale to get rid of all the stuff associated with Jake’s past life. It was also the perfect excuse to toss some meat on the barbeque grill, chug down some brews, and give their friend advice on how to “get beyond the pain,” “kick start your next phase of life,” “go to the next level,” and… Well, you get the picture.

  “I love these guys,” said Lucifer. “They focus on my kind of stuff—half-baked ideas born out of copious alcohol consumption.”

  Seriously—on Earth alcohol and bad advice go together.

  The first of Jake’s friends to arrive was Larry, his closest pal from all the way before high school. Although he had entered community college on a GED and quickly flunked out, Larry thought he knew everything. He did not. God knew everything. Larry thought he was God. Larry was wrong. Even Lucifer did not think he was God. Lucifer had aspirations, but he was not crazy. Larry was crazy.

  Lucifer 1, Larry 0.

  Larry plopped into a lawn chair with a beer. It was 7 a.m. Larry could drink beer at any time. “I see you’ve experienced a little trouble in the flow of life,” Larry said following a belch. Larry belched a lot. He could also underestimate things. “I’d say, your life was real good, until it wasn’t.”

  “You could say that,” answered Jake.

  “I just did.”

  It was an awkward moment.

  Larry asked, “So…what’s your plan?”

  “I’m moving forward. Gonna focus on improving my life through relaxation, a high-fiber diet, and yoga.” All things considered, Jake was even-keeled, relaxed, and calm.

  “You seem very relaxed.” Larry also liked to state the obvious.

  “Well, my life as I’ve known it is pretty much over. Wife—gone. Kids—in trouble and gone. My job is gone, too. I’m in debt, nearly broke, and I have a whopper of a cold that hangs on and on. But all things considered, I am okay.
But what really bugs me is all the dog poop in my yard.”

  Lucifer knew that at times it truly was the little things that could drive people absolutely nuts and push them over the edge. He was hoping to break Jake’s calmness by assaulting him with countless small jabs. “Death by a thousand tiny paper cuts,” was how Lucifer described his approach.

  Larry jumped in. (Not the dog poop.) Instead, the topic of conversation was Jake’s woes. “The dog poop is a symbol,” Larry asserted. “It represents something—maybe something very significant.”

  “I think it just represents dog poop,” Jake told him.

  “No, it’s karma. I’m certain of it.” Larry was playing God again—in his own mind. “Karma is what I’d call it.”

  “Call it what you like, but it stinks!” Jake exclaimed with frustration at both Larry and the smell coming from his shoes.

  “I don’t think you understand,” said Larry (speaking again as God). “Trust me, it’s karma! Don’t you believe in karma?”

  “No, I do not.”

  “Well, even if you don’t, you should. It’s real and it affects you—everyone knows that!”

  “So if you believe in the bogeyman, and I don’t, then I should still be afraid?”

  “I don’t follow,” Larry said with more honesty about his cluelessness than he knew.

  “I know you don’t follow. You miss a lot.”

  “Like what?” Larry said as half challenge and half question.

  Jake pointed to Larry’s shoes. “You’ve stepped in dog poop, pal.”

  “Oh crap!”

  “Yep, now you’ve got it.”

  “Got what?”

  “Karma—the brown smelly kind.”

  “Funny—real funny,” muttered Larry as he stepped out of the garage to clean the smelly mess off his shoes.

  **********

  Up above, God could not help but comment, “Luce, that’s a long way to go just for a poop joke.”

  “I know, I know, but I’ve got this thing about it. I only wish I had invented dog poop.”

  “You did.”

  “Really? I thought you did.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You missed a ton of opportunities for some really hilarious gags with the stuff.”

  “Let’s move on,” suggested God. Peering down on Earth, he asked, “So what’s next?”

  “As if you didn’t know…”

  (Pause)

  God did not take the bait.

  “Okay, it’s time for what I call ‘the community parade of idiots’ to get rolling. I’m arranging for an assortment of Jake’s well-wishing friends and nosey neighbors to drop in to dispense misguided wisdom.”

  “Let me guess—the ultimate source of their wisdom would be you?”

  “Bingo!”

  Lucifer loved to shout, “Bingo!” (More about that later.)

  *****

  A visitor appeared in Jake’s garage door. It was Beth, from across the street. She addressed Jake with, “Hello, Jacob.” Beth did not know or care that friends called him Jake. Beth was not a friend. She was a nosey neighbor. But she could be a friend. This was Beth’s opportunity.

  “I couldn’t help but notice all the commotion,” Beth said as she eyed the items assembled for the garage sale. “Did you know there is a strange man in your yard swearing up a storm over something on his shoes?”

  “Thank you for your concern, Beth,” Jake responded. “It’s thoughtful of you to warn me.” Jake was being nice. It’s nice to be nice. Jake needed a new friend, one who did not say, “Duck!” or get uppity when it was pointed out that one’s feet were covered in poop.

  Beth did not see that Jake’s reply was an invitation for a friendly exchange. Instead, Beth feigned interest in an item or two while she moved about the garage in a listless manner. Finally, she lit upon an old TV set. After turning it on and racing through some stations, she addressed Jake again. “Jacob, this TV is broken. Did you know that whatever channel you set it on it only plays two? It’s either the Home Shopping Network or an Indian evangelist shouting about sending him seed money, which is odd because there’s no way he’s a farmer.’”

  “Yeah, it’s my answer for Alzheimer’s,” joked Jake. “The show’s content is always new.”

  “It’s not funny to make jokes about Alzheimer’s,” Beth said sharply.

  “I meant no harm,” Jake explained. “In my situation, my life needs some levity. If I cannot make jokes, what do I have?”

  Beth assumed a serious demeanor. To Jake she inexplicably grew in size. Beth looked that way when she was about to nose into someone’s business. Through a stare called the “Stink Eye,” she said, “It may be none of my business, but—”

  ********

  Oh, so correct, thought God. He did not like nosey neighbors.

  Go for it, girl! urged Lucifer. Nosey neighbors were one of his favorite tools.

  *********

  Stink Eye Beth continued. “—the person to blame for the change in your life is no real surprise to me.” She gave him a mega stink eye. Her tone was accusatory and definitely not friendly. Beth was missing her chance to be a friend by the widest margin possible.

  Jake was incredulous at her statement. “You mean all my troubles are no surprise to you? Like in I am responsible? You can’t be serious.”

  “Yes, I am! It is your fault,” asserted Beth. She moved toward Jake like a snake toward a mouse. “I’ve watched what happened around here. You never were at home. You were always gone, and—”

  Jake interrupted her assault. “Always gone? That’s an impossibility.”

  Beth paused to think. “Well, yes…theoretically… But I meant almost always. It’s very plain to see that if you had been a better provider and been here more, your wife would not have run off.”

  “So let me get this straight. You are saying that if I were wealthier and at home more, it would have made my wife a more moral person?”

  “Well…well…yes. It’s so obvious. Your wife cheated on you and left because you neglected her,” Beth said with a smug, self-righteous look. “That man she left with is now giving her more of what she needs and wants.”

  Initially Jake was deflated. He thought Beth’s visit was meant to be a positive experience. Instead, she had come to play a game of I TOLD YOU SO!

  People love to say, “I told you so!” Luce taught them how.

  They also like to say, “If it were up to me, I would ______ (you fill in).”

  And, “I think you should ______ (you fill in).”

  A very popular one is, “Everyone believes ______ (you fill in).”

  ********

  Good! Lucifer thought. If you give them half a chance, people will tell you how to live your life even when they are so misled themselves. Her meddling advice would even be better mixed with alcohol.

  ********

  Jake thought for a while, then said, “Beth, imagine the following scenario. If your husband is gone away from home, then it is okay that you’ll cheat on him with some guy that has more money, right?”

  Beth was shocked by the thought. “What on earth are you saying?”

  Jake continued giving her some of what she had given him. “I’m saying—no, asking—when do you plan to fool around?”

  “No—I’m not—no! That’s wrong!”

  “But it’s your logic.”

  “I…I…I…”

  “…will do it.” He finished the thought for her. “Yes, you will! If you just follow your own logic, you’ll do exactly the same as my wife. You will fool around.”

  With as much indignation as she could muster, Beth shouted, “Jacob Brown, you evil man! You are sick! You are a perverted sick man! No wonder your wife left you! And I am leaving, too!” She stormed across the street back to the safety of her nosey-neighbor perch.

  Watching her speed away, Jake sighed. “I don’t feel any better for doing that. She thinks that marriage is just about money and status. I did not enjoy telling her what a
fool she is, but it needed to be done.”

  ********

  “She’s not far off base,” Lucifer said. “Money is a big part of the mix, but there are other elements in play, too. Sometimes it’s not at all about the money, the prizes, or who amasses the most toys. Sometimes it is just about shouting, ‘Bingo!’” Lucifer liked to win, and when he did, he especially liked shouting, “Bingo!”

  *********

  CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! The applause came from Larry. “That went well!” he said. His feet were clean, but his thoughts were not. He liked being the bearer of bad news. “Maybe she was right. Maybe you deserve all of the bad stuff that has landed on you. Canned from your job, divorced, one kid in jail, and the other one a wannabe porn star. Hasn’t it crossed your mind that maybe God did this to you for a reason? Maybe a good one at that.”

  Jake deflated immediately. Despair showed on his face like a death mask. He slumped into a lawn chair and asked, “Larry, do you think there’s a cosmic scale of justice?”

  “You mean like your good and bad deeds being weighed against each other?” Larry asked and then answered himself. “Of course I do. In the East it’s karma—here it’s God’s justice come home.”

  Jake attempted a weak joke. “Could it possibly be part of my permanent record?”

  Larry ignored his friend’s attempt at humor. He had some bogus wisdom to impart. “If there is a cosmic scale, you may have indeed tipped it. Maybe you built up a pile of wrongs so offensive that God had to take action. I’d say it’s payback time in God’s accounting system.”

  *****

  Up above, God asked, “Do they really think I’d do that?”

  It was a rhetorical question. A rhetorical question is one that really needs no answer. All questions were rhetorical ones for God.

  *****

  Jake mused aloud, “Payback could be an explanation. But I’m not buying it. That would make God as petty as us.”

  *****

  Again up above, God liked what he heard. God exclaimed, “Good boy!” Joy rolled across the cosmos.

  “Quiet!” Lucifer hissed. “You’ll influence the results, and that’s not fair. You said you’d not intervene like that. The rules are that I do the active stuff and you cannot appear to the target unless and until he clearly convinces me that he’s in your camp and not mine.”