Second Lives by Ann O'Neal Garcia

Author:Ann O'Neal Garcia
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: childhood, coming of age, short stories, memoir, youth, parenting, sci fi, elderly, facts of life, motherless
Publisher: Ann O'Neal Garcia

God Sighting

The only one who sees is a little girl with a strong voice.

King of Kings, Mighty Counselor, Supreme Being, Son of Man, Son of God. He took a deep breath and slipped, as one would slip into the deep end of a swimming pool, into mild-mannered, unassuming, financially-strapped, well-meaning but rather dull Bob Brown, resident of planet Earth, nation USA, state Oregon, town Hillsboro. Jesus felt himself narrowing, collapsing, getting tighter and tighter and sucked in his breath as the familiar but always faintly shocking metamorphosis took place.

Jesus Bob found himself inside a motel with a battered suitcase near his scuffed loafers. He perched on the edge of a rather dirty bedspread, a chenille that made the inside of his nose itch, and looked around. Over the desk was a very bad print of the ocean shore line near Cannon Beach, Oregon. He got up and was not surprised to find himself a bit shaky. He moved to the desk, opened the drawer, and took out the Bible.

Bob Brown had a thing he did with the Bible. He flipped it open, rammed his finger at a passage, usually to the right side of the book as Bob was right-handed, and he read what his finger stabbed. Sometimes the verse was so nebulous, uninspiring, or even threatening, Bob cheated a little and picked another verse nearby. His finger hit on Luke 19:41 and he read, moving his lips, "And when he was come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it." Bob Brown didn't like it, didn't see what it had to do with him. He'd wanted a verse of hope, not of doom and gloom. He tried another one. Didn't like it, either.

Jesus opened his own celestial mind just a crack as Bob Brown held the Bible out in front of him. Through Bob Brown's less-than-perfect vision, Jesus squinted at the pages. He watched as Bob Brown flipped through the faux-leather-bound book, back and forth. He shook his head and thought, "They only got about half of what I said, and half of that they got wrong." He was speaking Bob Brown dialect. The sound of clumsy middle-class American English was oddly pleasing.

While Bob Brown showered, he lathered up a bit about selling his new line of dog products. He consoled himself by remembering he was in a place where people loved their canines. His items would sell like hot cakes, particularly the new collars and leashes that sparkled at night. In the dark when you couldn't see your dog, it was as if the collar and leash pranced around by themselves. People loved 'em and shelled out some big bucks for 'em. Unfortunately, most of the profits went straight back to The Bow and The Wow, his home company.

He watched TV, Cops and America's Most Wanted, while he lay in bed in fresh pajamas. Changing into Bob Brown had made Jesus sleepy. He wanted a beer but didn't have the energy to go out and buy one.

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