The Devil and Jesus’ Son
Jack, the Son of the Son of God, was training with Lucifer.
Jack had a superpower he called the zappy-zappy. When he got angry, he radiated a brilliant white light, and the target of his ire would be banished from his presence. When they reappeared, they were...purified? We weren’t really sure. They were better than they had been. They were chill.
Jack wanted to practice, to learn how to control this power. So when the Satan he zapped came back as the studly sycophant Lucifer, Jack brought the redeemed angel to Slack Heaven to be his punching bag.
After his first day of training, Jack stopped by the suite I shared with my husband Bob to ask for our help.
“I need something to get me angry,” Jack said. “But not anything significant. I don’t want to face any deep trauma here—got to keep that shit properly repressed. I just need to get pissed at something trivial.”
“Oh, I’ve got the perfect thing for that!” Bob replied. “Have you ever heard of Subaltar?”
“Isn’t that some kind of streaming prayer service?” Jack asked.
“It’s an entire social intercession platform,” Bob explained. “It’s vile. Moloch hired a legion of Narcissuses to curate prayer streams, and all they care about is engagement, so everything on there will absolutely push your buttons. Brilliant marketing move! But you’ve got to be careful not to use it too long, or you’ll get addicted and your soul will belong to Moloch for eternity. Here, give me your tablet, I’ll make you an account...”
Jack handed over his tablet, a pocket-sized altar that facilitated comm union over the psychic Network. Bob held it like an ancient smart phone, swiping around to set things up.
“Stand by for two factor authentication,” Bob said.
Jack gasped as a pentecostal flame flickered briefly over his head.
“That should do it,” Bob said, handing the tablet back. “They’ve actually got some pretty decent long-form liturgies on there, so stick to the short-form Petitions section, that’s where the real cranky shit’s at.”
Jack flipped the tablet into holographic mode, and the bust of a scarecrow appeared hovering above it.
“You will not believe the meltdown this triggered snowflake had!” the straw man said. “Check out this clip...”
The bust changed to a lion, tears streaming down his face.
“I just cannot believe this kind of racism and sexism still exists in this day and age!” the lion whimpered. “It’s despicable—see for yourself...”
The lion was replaced by a tin man, laughing cynically.
“Now, I’m not saying all Kansas girls are sluts—”
“This will do!” Jack said, shutting off the tablet.
Bob grabbed the pentacle on a chain around his neck.
“Mnemosyne, set a reminder for one month from now,” Bob said. “Make sure Jack hasn’t lost his soul to Moloch.”
“Ok,” said a woman’s voice as Bob’s necklace glowed green. “In one month I will remind you, make sure Jack has lost his owl turmeric.”
“Close enough,” Bob sighed.
“Thanks guys,” Jack said, heading out the door. “Wish me luck!”
I asked Bob about the pentacle after Jack left.
“I didn’t realize that was functional. You picked it up in Akhetaten, yeah?”
“Yeah,” Bob said. “It’s audio-only, but otherwise it’s a full apocalyptic interface. Really convenient, way easier than fiddling with a tablet. Plus it’s got two terabytes of local storage, so I can imbue all my intentions into it!”
“Probably can’t get the Holy Spirit on there,” I said.
Jack and I connected to the Network via the Holy Spirit, which was kind of like a psychic VPN. It handled translation, revelation, firewall, antivirus, that sort of thing. Bob was pagan and didn’t want to download the Holy Spirit, but he still had his own pagan versions of all the standard Network services. Though this was the first time I saw him do something you couldn’t do with Christian tech.
“You could totally have a holy symbol if you wanted to,” Bob said. “Ain’t my fault Jack doesn’t like the applicable holy symbol.”
Ah. Yeah, Jack was not a fan of crosses.
“Can you blame him?” I asked. “How would you like wearing a constant reminder of your father’s horrific murder?”
Bob shrugged. “My dad from my fifty-third life was sacrificed in a pentacle, and you don’t hear me bitching. Though to be fair, he kinda had it coming...”
That conversation stuck with me. I hadn’t thought about it before, but it didn’t sound great that my best friend had an aversion to crosses. The same best friend who was now training with the devil. At least I’d seen him out walking in the daylight?
It was always difficult to tell how much time passed in Slack Heaven—our heaven-issued bodies didn’t require much sleep, and the sun dial usually stayed set somewhere around dusk—but an amount of time passed. Jack continued training with Lucifer, while Bob and I availed ourselves of Slack Heaven’s many attractions. Then one day, Jack tracked us down to show off a new skill.
“Check it out,” Jack said. He shut his eyes, scrunched up his face in anger and began to glow. It wasn’t as intense as the blinding flash of a full-on zap, but it was the first time I’d seen him light up intentionally.
“Nice,” I said.
“Yeah,” Jack said, “I can turn it on pretty easy, I just have to think of Peter. Never thought I’d be grateful he pisses me off so much!”
“Does it actually do anything besides light you up?” I asked.
“Lucy says it gives him a tingle,” Jack said. “I’m working my way up, though. I mean, I can make myself go full zappy just from doompraying on Subaltar, but last time I did that, I accidentally banished my tablet. The point is to learn to control it.”
Bob and I spent some time in the field just outside Slack Heaven, considering the lilies. I set the sun dial to noon and watched a flower from its first sprout to full blossom, eagerly awaiting the appearance of the little baby seeds. The poor thing was destroyed when, out of nowhere, a Fabio-looking dude with a glowing angelic headband landed on top of it.
“Oh, hey dudes!” Lucifer said. “I guess it worked!”
“What worked?” I asked.
“Jack just intentionally banished me! Not where I expected to land, but still a major milestone!”
“Tell him I say congrats,” I said flatly.
“Will do!” Lucifer said. “Where am I, anyway?”
“You’re on my lily.”
“Northwest entrance is right over there,” Bob said, pointing.
“Better get back to it!” Lucifer grinned. “No breaks for the punching bag!”
Bob and I decided to get out of Slack Heaven for awhile, so we took a trip to a quaint seaside fishing village. But the bed & breakfast we stayed at harbored a dark secret. Bob crawled through a strange door in the attic and, long story short, I had to wager both our souls in a battle of wits to save Bob from the Elder Things. So we could only give the place four stars out of of five. At least Bob got to go home with a Mold-A-Rama green wax Cthulu figurine.
When we got back, Jack invited us over to his suite for dinner. That’s when we discovered Lucifer had started living with him.
“My poor Dude just needs someone to take care of him,” Lucifer explained as he served the table. “Caretaker bears and robots can do the gruntwork, but they lack the touch of an angel. And of course, they can’t keep your bed warm at night!”
“You’re sleeping together?” I gasped. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events.
“Just sleeping, dude,” Jack said. “It’s entirely platonic.”
“That’s how it starts,” Bob said with a smirk.
“Oh, come off it,” I said to Bob. “Never in the history of sexual intimacy between men has it started with actually sleeping together, and you know it. That waits for at least the third date, after you’ve fucked a few times and, like, learned each other’s names.”
“Fair,” Bob said.
“This is delicious, Lucy,” Jack said.
“Thanks,” Lucifer said. “I made the original myself. The secret ingredient is just a dash of torture pepper. Of course, back in the day, I would feed spoonfuls of the stuff to assholes who bragged about how hot they liked their chili. But I find if you balance it out with heavy cream, it lends the dish a subtle spicy-smoky flavor.”
I wished he would’ve mentioned that before I took my first bite. I started to sweat.
“Let me replicate you a glass of milk,” Lucifer offered.
Lucifer didn’t join us at the table, but rather spent the meal serving us. I had to admit, there were worse things in the world than being served by such a hunk. From a less attractive man, the brown-nosing would’ve been irritating.
“Who’s up for pedicures?” Lucifer announced after dinner, a towel over his shoulder and a bowl of water in his hands.
“Ooh, me!” Bob said, waving eagerly.
Jack started passing around a bong while Lucifer went to work on Bob’s feet.
“So, did you guys see Acne Jan recently?” Jack asked with a smile.
“Uh, no, I haven’t seen her in a few years,” I said. “Why?”
Acne Jan was a long-time resident of Slack Heaven. One of the perks of being saved by Jack was that we each got Rapture™ model bodies, usually reserved for residents of proper Christian heavens. These bodies were generally free of disease and remained fit regardless of how little they were used. But resurrected bodies could never exceed the limits of our own idealized self-conception, and for some people, that self-conception included disabilities, deformities, or, in Jan’s case, the worst pimple-face in the entire infinite world.
“Totally cured!” Jack said, beaming with pride.
“We’re calling her Porcelain Jan now,” Lucifer added.
“Is this a new zappy power?” I asked.
“Yup,” Jack said.
“Nice!” I said. “I have to admit, I’m glad to hear you’ve found some way to use your inner light besides banishing things in anger.”
“Oh, it was still anger,” Jack said. “Her face was gross, dude. I mean, I wasn’t going to insult her about it or anything, but it was pretty easy to muster enough disgust to banish it. The acne, I mean, not her face!”
“And she was cool with this?” I asked. “She always seemed sort of proud of how over-the-top it was.”
“She was a little surprised when I asked to try,” Jack said, “but she said she was happy to help out her savior. And once she got a look at her new self in the mirror, she loved it!”
“I’ve asked the robot Maximilian to identify all residents who need a bit of healing, for more practice,” Lucifer said. “I offered to injure myself for the cause, but my Dude was having none of that.”
“Yeah, dude, because that’s fucked up,” Jack said.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “we wouldn’t want this to get fucked up.”
But it was totally getting fucked up, and I was starting to worry Jack would do real, irreversible damage sooner rather than later. The next time we visited Jack, I asked Bob beforehand if he could distract Lucifer for awhile. It was time for me to have a heart-to-heart with my best friend.
“Hey, Lucy,” Bob asked after dinner, “can I see your dick?”
“Sure!” Lucifer said, beginning to untie his pants.
“No, not here, we don’t want to scandalize our boys,” Bob said, giving me a wink. “Let’s head over to the marionette theater, you can do the lonely goatherd.”
“As you wish!” Lucifer said.
My husband, ladies and gentlemen.
“It’s been awhile,” I said after Bob and Lucifer left. “Just the two of us, I mean.”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed. He packed a bowl, and we passed it back and forth awhile without saying anything.
“How’s the healing going?” I asked.
“Pretty good,” Jack said. I hoped he would take the prompt and run with it a bit more, but he didn’t.
“No...accidents?” I asked.
“Nope,” Jack said, and I could feel his hackles rising. I needed to tread carefully.
“Cool,” I said.
More smoking, more silence.
“It really is impressive, you know,” I said. “I’m guessing that’s how your Dad did his healing miracles, too?”
“They’re not miracles,” Jack said. “It’s all just biology.”
“Yeah, no, I know that, dude,” I said. “I’m just saying, you inherited this power from him. Have you gotten to talk to him about it?”
“Nope.”
“Have you talked to him at all lately?” I asked. Jack used to visit his Dad every Christmas, but I knew that had tapered off since Jack got his own heaven. I didn’t know if it was Jack or Jesus that had done the tapering.
“Nope,” Jack said. He was clearly trying to dodge an actual conversation about this.
“Maybe you should?” I offered. “He’s the only other guy in the world with this power. I bet he’s got some insight.”
“I’m doing just fine, dude,” Jack said. “I’m learning how to control my powers. I’m not hurting anyone. There haven’t been any accidents, and there won’t be. I get why you’re worried, but you don’t need to be.”
“Cool, no worries,” I said. Jack gave me a skeptical look.
More smoking, more silence.
“It’s just...” I said. “Never mind.”
“No, what?” Jack asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m pissing you off, I can tell, so forget about it.”
“What, you’re afraid I’m going to zap you?” Jack asked.
“Should I be?” I asked.
“Dude, how can you even ask that?”
“You brought it up,” I said. “But look, no, that’s not what I’m worried about, dude.”
“Then what are you worried about?” Jack asked.
“You’ve spent years holed up with Satan learning how to be angry on command!” I blurted out. I hadn’t intended to be that blunt, but there it was. “You really don’t see why that might be worrisome?”
Jack gave a cynical snort and shook his head.
“Why is that funny?” I asked.
“It’s flattering, that’s all,” Jack said, “seeing you get jealous like that.”
“I am NOT jealous!”
Was I jealous?
“It’s ok, dude, I understand,” Jack said. “But you don’t have to worry. I don’t love Lucy more than I love you. It’s just nice having someone take care of me for once.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said, nothing else,” Jack said. But then he mumbled, “Like not getting hard means I want to sleep alone.”
“You want me to sleep with you?” I asked. “Dude, you could’ve mentioned that a few centuries ago!”
“You’ve always been so weird about it!” Jack said. “Like you’re gonna pop a boner at just the thought! But no, dude, you got your husband, you do you. Just don’t get pissy when I do me. You’re acting like a chick.”
“Well fuck you too!” I shouted.
Jack just chuckled some more.
“Dude,” I said, standing up in a huff. “All I wanted to say was maybe just think twice about what you’re doing before you go full-on evil. But whatever, you can suck Satan’s prehensile cock all you want, I really don’t give a shit.”
“I’ll let you watch if I do,” Jack said. “Wouldn’t want you to feel left out.”
“FUCK!”
I stormed out of Jack’s suite.
I was furious. Rattled. Confused. What the fuck just happened?
I didn’t think Jack and I had ever discussed our relationship in such plain terms, as if we were lovers. And to argue about it! I couldn’t remember us ever having a real argument like that. Was it all the zapping that was causing it? He said I was jealous, but he also seemed pissed that I wasn’t more affectionate with him. How long had he felt that way? Had I been missing signals all along? And I still absolutely believed Lucifer was Bad News. But that concern was suddenly overshadowed by so much more.
I needed to get away from people. I needed to think. I headed to the one place I knew no other resident of Slack Heaven would go—the Region of Responsibility.
Jack had an office at the edge of the Region, but I stomped my way deep into its bowels, to the places where only our nonhuman servants dwelled. I passed cylons sorting trash for recycling, orange caretaker bears with wrenches on their bellies repairing landscaping drones, astromech droids sticking their bits into wall sockets, and a pack of roombas taking a smoke break. I saw a door marked “Shroom Closet” and went inside.
The room was certainly larger than a closet, though everything was bigger in Slack Heaven. I could barely see in the dim red light. Rows of metal shelves bore trays of mushrooms, all presumably psychedelic. We got our day-to-day drugs through the replicators, but Slack Heaven had lots of places like this where new strains were cultivated, far away from residents who might be tempted to sample prematurely. Apparently not far enough.
“Oh, excuse me,” I said to the surprised hippie. “I didn’t know anyone else was here.”
“Oh! Man!” he said, fingers hovering over a tray. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be here, man! Uh, I’m not supposed to be here, right?”
“You’re fine,” I laughed, “just be careful, none of these have been tested on caretaker bears yet. Hey...aren’t you one of Lucifer’s boys? From Akhetaten?”
“Yeah!” the hippie said enthusiastically. “I recognize you, you’re Jack’s buddy! Leif, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “And you’re the guy who did the beat-boxing on the acapella NIN covers, if I remember correctly. That was really impressive!”
“Aw, thanks, man!” he said, wiping his dirty fingers on his patched-up jean vest and offering his hand. “My name’s John.”
“Nice,” I said, shaking his hand. “That was one of my names, in a past life.”
“Always been mine, man, ever since my pop gave it to me!” John said, pounding his chest with pride.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, John,” I said. “How long have you been here?”
“Oh, I, uh, woke up a few hours ago and got to thinking, it’d be kinda fun to trip today…”
“No, I mean, how long have you been in Slack Heaven?” I asked.
“Oh! Man, since, like, the day Lucifer left with you guys. Totally didn’t see it coming.”
“That sucks,” I said. “What did you in?”
John shrugged.
“Dunno, man, didn’t see it coming!”
I smiled. Yeah, this guy was one of Lucifer’s henchmen. But Lucifer’s henchmen were a bunch of musical theater nerds, and this one gave off good vibes. He was the epitome of all things hippie: sandals, bellbottom jeans, the aforementioned vest, a tie-dyed t-shirt depicting a skeleton kneeling in prayer, piles of craft fair necklaces, a grizzled beard and wild long dark hair held back with an intricately beaded headband. It was the same getup I’d seen him wear in Akhetaten, and definitely not the standard all-white heavenly uniform I was wearing. He looked like he was in his forties, worn down but not yet old, and he spoke with the sandpaper voice of a man who had not been sober in centuries. Flawed body, personalized clothes, original name—this was a dude with a strong self-conception.
“Hey, man, you want some?” John said, proffering a mushroom. “I ate a bunch awhile ago and I didn’t die yet, so they’re probably fine.”
“Naw, I’m already very high,” I said. “But if you want, I can show you my favorite spot to chill when I’m tripping. You can see the whole heaven from there.”
“Yeah, man, that’d be far out!” John said.
We walked, we talked, and we got to know each other. John was first born in the globe, and he must’ve impressed some idol or another, because he retained his memory and personality every time he resurrected. He started following Lucifer centuries ago, shortly after Jack zapped him. Before I could get much more out of him, though, he asked about me, and it was like a dam bursting open. I told him everything, starting with meeting Jack at a party in Chicago, all the way up to the fight we’d just had. John was an excellent listener.
“So, do you think I’m jealous?” I asked.
“Nah, man,” John said. “I think you Love Jack and you’re concerned about him. If you weren’t concerned about him, you wouldn’t Love him.”
“Makes sense,” I said.
“And he Loves Lucifer,” John continued. “And Lucifer Loves him. And he Loves you. So, you should Love Lucifer because you Love him.”
“I don’t know about that,” I said. “I’m not sure love works that way.”
“But if you don’t Love Lucifer, and he Loves Lucifer, then you don’t really Love Jack,” John said, “because those who Love Jack must Love those who Love him, because Jack Loves those who Love him, and if you say you Love Jack but you don’t Love those he Loves who Love him, you are a liar.”
“Whoa, dude, slow down there,” I said. “I think maybe those mushrooms are kicking in.”
“Yeah, man, probably,” John said sheepishly.
“Good thing we’re there,” I said, pushing open the maintenance door.
We walked out onto the roof of the tallest point in Slack Heaven. It wasn’t the tallest actual building, we were only up a couple stories from the ground, but it was far up the hills on the opposite side from the Curtain of Light. Slack Heaven had gotten so large, we probably couldn’t have seen it all if the earth wasn’t flat. The sun had just set (or rather, the sun was set to “just set”) and the colors of twilight filled the sky above as the shimmering Curtain stretched to the far horizon. Lights flickered all around us. You could see the warm glow of cabin windows, campground bonfires, the flashing red warning beacons on top of the skyway towers, the strips of light racing along the crosstown rollercoaster track, the blinding night game lamps from the frisbee golf stadium, and countless others. John’s eyes bulged and his mouth curled into a tight circle from excitement.
“Pretty impressive, huh?” I said. John nodded.
“Just think, man,” John said. “Each one of those lamps is a soul, man. All those people, shining in the darkness!”
“Approximately, sure,” I said. “Probably not a one-to-one correspondence, but—”
“One, two, three, four, five...” John whispered.
“You’re counting...lamps?” I asked.
“...seven, eight—yup!” John answered. “Nine, ten, eleven...”
“Gonna be here awhile,” I said. John nodded and continued counting.
I thought, so the dude is tripping on mushrooms and a little autistic. I’d met weirder. I stood with him and enjoyed the view, but the counting was getting annoying. It seemed wrong to tell him to stop, though. He was clearly enjoying it. And I enjoyed watching flowers grow, so who was I to judge?
After about five minutes, based on his count, I was ready to head back inside.
“I’m gonna get going,” I said. “But look, this was really chill. I’m super easy to find, everyone knows me around here, so feel free to track me down, and we’ll hang out again sometime, yeah?”
“Three hundred and sixteen, three hundred and seventeen,” John said, but he gave me a thumbs up.
“Cool then, uh, catch you later,” I said.
I was almost back inside when I heard him call out.
“God is Love, man!” he shouted, earnestness plastered across his face. “Don’t be afraid! Just Love!”
“Will do!” I said, waving goodbye. He waved back.
“Three hundred and twenty-one, three hundred and twenty-two...”
I went back inside.
I needed to find Jack. Hippie John was generally right about love, even if he seemed to believe one or two geek social fallacies. I still wasn’t sure exactly what my argument with Jack had really been about. I felt like there was some subtext I was missing. But I knew that I loved him, I knew he loved me, and I knew we just needed to smoke a peace pipe and talk it out.
We spotted each other down the hall as we approached our suites from opposite directions.
“I’m sorry,” we said in unison.
“You were right,” Jack said. “This whole zappy-angry thing is getting weird, and I need to be more careful with it. It’s kind of fucked up that I treated Lucy like a punching bag in the first place. I’ve got access to people who might know a thing or two about this power, and I need to reach out to them.”
“I was a shithead,” I said. “It’s got nothing to do with Lucifer. For some reason it never even occurred to me that you need someone close in your life—like, closer than what we got, something more like what Bob and I got. Which was just stupid and insensitive of me, because at the end of the lifetime, that sort of relationship has nothing to do with dicks getting hard, and you absolutely deserve it!”
Jack laughed.
“Maybe someday,” he said. “But I don’t think Lucy’s the one. I’ll admit, having him around has been nice in ways I never could’ve expected. But, like, dude—his nose is so far up my ass, it’s gonna pop out my belly button!”
I laughed.
“So, what are you going to do with him then?” I asked. “I mean, he’ll do whatever you tell him to...”
And so it was that, in Slack Heaven, every once in awhile, even a caretaker bear could get a day off. The next day, Jack, Bob and I were standing just outside the elephant enclosure at the zoo. A golf cart train full of brown caretaker bears with poop emojis on their bellies was passing by. Lucifer was shoveling elephant shit. And every single one of us smiled and waved at all the others.
Not long after that, I found myself drifting off to sleep in my bed, my arms wrapped around Bob, and Jack’s arms wrapped around me.
And I wasn’t afraid, because God is Love.
Next: The Doctor and Jesus’ Son
Doing Drugs with Jesus’ Son is always free.