“I’m not afraid,” Anise smiled at Him and put her head on His shoulder.
“The branding was all wrong,” God continued to complain. “And then to try to fix thousands of years of damage caused by the lies spread about me…” Frustrated, He didn’t finish the sentence.
Anise sat up and looked at Him. “If you don’t mind, I do have some issues with the way you run things,” she said very politely.
“Go ahead,” God smiled. “I always appreciate a good critique. There’s always room for improvement.” He picked another thick slice of chocolate cake out of the air and sat back with anticipation.
Anise screwed up her courage. “Look,” she said hesitantly. “Let’s start with the fact that every time we arrive in heaven You’re never there. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time that the system, or The Draw as the heavenly clerks like to call it, is simply unfair. We have to run alongside the planet and then draw a country where we’re going to spend an entire lifetime. It’s totally arbitrary. There’s no freedom of choice involved. And then we’re supposed to pick one of three families we cannot possibly get to know during the random thirty minutes we get to see them. You call that choice?” Anise was getting into it now. “It’s obvious that you can’t get to know a family by observing them for a half-hour. And that means that, most of the time, we make a bad choice and suffer. As if it isn’t tough enough to be reincarnated, time after time, to the same cruel planet.” She had said her piece and now took a sip of juice.
God had listened with great attention. “I tell you the truth. I make mistakes, too. Many, in fact. After all, you people are made, as they say, in God’s image,” He laughed and then immediately turned serious again. “But you’re right, Anise. Take what happened there with the Orphils of the Royal Guard. That was a mistake. I haven’t been around for a long time and things have gotten out of hand. I really have to visit all the departments. There’s a lot that needs fixing. The problem is that I never have the time.” He fell silent and sank into thought. After a moment, His face lit up again. “Maybe I should show you my side too, so that you understand a little better,” He suggested.
All at once, the furniture disappeared and, before anyone had batted an eyelash, they found themselves in a large hall, full of angels scurrying about in a mad rush.
Angels in white ran from one place to the next holding long lists that trailed after them in the air, trying to keep up with the pace. Anise looked at the words pushing and shoving one another, each trying to reach the top of the list first.
On the other side of the hall, a group of angels scurried about. They were carrying heaps of animal holograms, carefully putting each animal on its own designated planet. Not far from there, several angels in blue overalls were rapidly planting vegetation in different parts of planet Earth.
As if hypnotized, Mor was staring at a group of angels wearing kimonos arranging stars in exact geometric patterns. They bowed elegantly when they walked past. God bowed back to them. They walked past a large Chinese angel, whose swollen cheeks looked ready to burst. “He’s in charge of winds,” God explained, and amicably tapped Enochio’s shoulder. The chubby angel was still unable to speak. “Maybe now you’ll complain less,” God laughed.
“On second thought, standing at the gate is a pretty good job,” Enochio whispered, making God laugh out loud.
God bent down over Enochio. “Listen, my friend. You’re going to have to practice that flying thing. After all, we have a reputation to uphold.” And then, in a whisper, “Perhaps a bit of a diet would also be worth considering.”
Enochio nodded, red-faced with embarrassment.
They stopped at a long, dark wooden table. Around it, angels wearing suits and frowns of concentration were moving numbers over a transparent surface.
“This is the committee,” God said proudly. “This bunch is in charge of developing plans in principle.” He motioned to a particularly tall angel to turn around; small stars flitted in and out of his many curls. “This is Gabriel,” He introducing him affectionately.
Behind Gabriel’s back, long lines of words flew about; they were constantly getting in one another’s way, some tossed to the floor in the heat of the quarrel. Some of the words tried to climb others’ backs to get to the top of the list. From time to time, Gabriel was forced to turn around to smooth the list down. Every time he did so, the words quieted down in awed respect and humbly took their rightful places. But the moment Gabriel turned away, the pushing and shoving started up again.
“Gabriel is my right hand,” said God, patting the curly-haired angel on the shoulder. Gabriel nodded his head with grace and shook the visitors’ hands warmly. The words behind him used his momentary distraction to quarrel some more and dart around one another. Gabriel again turned back to them to separate the sides, but one word was paying no attention and collided with him head-on. Gabriel tripped and fell.
God motioned for his guests to keep walking. “You must forgive him,” He apologized, “but Gabriel is in charge of religious issues and, as you know, that’s not easy. He tends to collapse under the strain. Every time he seems to have one religion under control, an uproar breaks out somewhere else.”
“Look,” He said, pointing at a transparent bubble hovering in the air. Within, some priests dressed in long robes were stretching a man on a breaking wheel. The man screamed in horrible agony.
“Hey, that’s the Inquisition,” Anise said. “I learned
