Fated (33 page)
Authors: S. G. Browne
Tags: #Humorous, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary, #Fiction
After Lady Luck comes Karma, a bottle of Dos Equis in one hand as he confesses about how I admitted to interfering in the fates of my humans and to sending one of them down the Path of Destiny. I can tell he doesn’t mean to give me up. It just comes out. Like an unexpected belch. You get that way when you’re asked to testify before God. It doesn’t help that Karma’s been drinking.
Once he’s finished, Karma walks over to me and gives me a hug. “Sorry, Fabio.”
“It’s okay,” I say.
He gives me a sheepish smile, drains the rest of his Dos Equis, then disappears.
More than a dozen others take the stand, including Sloth, Gluttony, Honesty, Truth, and Wisdom. Some of them testify about my character. Others corroborate my whereabouts in relation to the humans whose paths I altered. And Honesty lets the proverbial cat out of the bag about my relationship with Sara, prompting Jerry to look at me and shake his head as if he’d caught me dancing around a golden calf.
I’d object to her testimony on the grounds of doctor/patient confidentiality, but, well, she is Honesty.
The next one to take the stand is Dennis.
He shows up wearing a black Armani suit, with a black satin shirt and a black tie. His shoes are so shiny you can see my desperation reflected in them.
Dennis nods to me, expressionless, then turns to Jerry.
“Ready when you are, Big Guy,” says Dennis.
Jerry smiles. He loves being called Big Guy. That and the Great and Powerful Oz.
The two of them proceed to chat for several minutes about death and pestilence and the good old days when plagues were in vogue. Dennis even gets Jerry to laugh. With the way he’s dressed and the manner in which he seems to be softening up Jerry, I’m wondering if Dennis is here to back me up.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” asks Jerry.
“So help me You,” says Dennis.
At first Dennis talks about my character and my compassion and how I seem to have developed a real love for humans, and I’m beginning to think I was right about him having my back. Then he proceeds to tell Jerry about how he happened upon me saving a human from his scheduled death.
So much for having my back.
Destiny is next, testifying further as to my involvement with Sara. She doesn’t reveal the nature of Sara’s destiny, but the fact that I developed a romantic relationship with a mortal on the Path of Destiny is damning enough.
Destiny and I don’t exchange any pleasantries and I don’t accuse her of killing my humans. What would be the point? She’d just deny it and Jerry would call in Alibi and I’d end up looking like I was trying to deflect blame. And even if my humans hadn’t died, I’d be in this chair anyway, being investigated for everything else I’ve done. Besides, if there’s any cosmic balance, Destiny will eventually get what’s coming to her.
I just have to trust in the system.
After Destiny leaves, Jerry calls Surreptitious to the stand. I’m not sure why she’s there, considering I haven’t seen her since the Trojan War, until she testifies how she overheard me reveal my true identity to Sara, along with several universal secrets and some previously unknown dirt on Jerry.
I am so busted.
Once Surreptitious has finished raking me over the coals, Jerry confers with Integrity and Trust, who both nod and glance my way wearing self-satisfied expressions. Then they’re gone, transporting to some state of moral perfection that would probably make me break out in a rash, leaving Jerry and me alone in his chambers.
“Well, that was fun,” I say. “Maybe we could do this again next week.”
“This isn’t a joking matter, Fabio.”
Nothing’s ever a joking matter to Jerry.
“I know,” I say. “I was just . . .”
“Trying to lighten the mood,” says Jerry.
I shrug.
Jerry lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head. “Do you have any idea of the seriousness of what you’ve done, Fabio? Not only have you broken the covenant of the secrets of the universe by revealing yourself to a mortal woman, and purposely altered the fates of more than three dozen humans who have consequently died, but you’ve created a domino effect that will have repercussions for decades. Perhaps even centuries.”
The way he says it makes it sound so catastrophic.
“Did you even consider the consequences of your actions?” he asks.
“Of course I did,” I say. “But I didn’t think anyone would get hurt. I didn’t think anyone would die.”
“The problem is, they did die,” says Jerry. “But even if they hadn’t, you knowingly broke the rules about getting involved with hundreds of mortals. That’s grounds enough for being stripped of your powers.”
“I know,” I say. Like he has to rub it in.
“And yet that didn’t stop you.”
I shrug. I don’t know what he wants me to say.
“What I don’t understand,” says Jerry, “is why you would continue to try to help them if you knew it could cost you your immortality.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I guess I just wanted to help my humans discover something better.”
Jerry studies me for several long moments, his fingers tapping against his solid oak desk.
“While your intentions were admirable, that still doesn’t excuse your actions,” he says.
I figure it’s best for me to just remain silent. The only thing I can accomplish by speaking is to make things worse.
“I’d like to let you off with a warning,” says Jerry. “Give you six months’ suspension to teach you a lesson.”
I nod appreciatively, thinking maybe this isn’t going to be as bad as I thought.
“But that would be sending the wrong message,” he says. “If I let you off with a slap on the wrist, what kind of precedent would I be setting?”
“One of compassion?” I say, hoping to appeal to his New Testament side. “One of forgiveness?”
“And if I did that, how many others would try the same thing?” says Jerry. “Sloth? Arrogance? Vanity? Where would it end?”
“I don’t really think—”
“No,” says Jerry. “You don’t really think. That’s what got you into this mess. And that’s why I have to do what I don’t want to do.”
Uh-oh. I’m getting a definite Old Testament vibe here.
Jerry comes around his desk and leans against it facing me, his arms folded. “You’re one of my favorite immortals, Fabio,” he says. “You always have been. But I didn’t make my rules to be broken. In spite of your motives, you still have to answer for what you’ve done. And as much as it pains me to do this, I have to make an example of you.”
I just sit there, unable to believe it’s actually going to happen. That I’m actually going to become mortal.
“It’s going to sting, isn’t it?”
“A little,” says Jerry.
I nod. “When?”
It can’t happen now. Mortals aren’t allowed up here. Plus, they can’t survive teleportation. We found that out the hard way.
“One day. Maybe two,” says Jerry. “That should give you enough time to set your affairs in order and to make sure you’re in a safe place for the transformation.”
“Will I be able to keep the apartment?” I ask.
“Not unless you get a job,” says Jerry.
“What about Sara?”
“Unfortunately, due to the sensitive nature of the information you’ve imparted to her, we’re going to have to schedule a memory purge, effective immediately.”
“No.” I say. “Please.”
“I’m sorry, Fabio,” says Jerry. “But without a memory purge, it won’t be possible for Sara Griffen to fulfill her destiny. She’ll be too influenced by what she knows to be able to continue effectively down her path.”
“At least give me some time,” I say. “Let me say good-bye. Just one day. Twenty-four hours. That’s all I ask.”
Jerry laces his fingers together in front of his face and stares at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but if you’ve never been stared at by God, it’s kind of unnerving. He always looks so judgmental.
After what feels like an ice age has passed, he nods once, unlaces his fingers, looks at his watch, and says, “Twenty-four hours. The memory purge will take place at eight a.m. After that, she won’t know you from Adam.”
CHAPTER 48
The trip back
to Earth takes longer than expected due to some collapsed dark matter on the Terrestrial Highway, restricting transportation to one lane in each direction, which gives me time to think about how I’m going to break the news to Sara.
to Earth takes longer than expected due to some collapsed dark matter on the Terrestrial Highway, restricting transportation to one lane in each direction, which gives me time to think about how I’m going to break the news to Sara.
Honey, remember when you said how you’d never forget the first time we met?
Somehow, I don’t think she’s going to take the news well.
I just wish there were some way for her to remember at least one thing about me. About us. But with a memory purge, everything is wiped out. All memories. All associations. All feelings. There’s nothing left but the previous reality that existed.
Kind of like
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
, only without Jim Carrey or Kate Winslet or Kirsten Dunst dancing on a bed without a bra in her underwear and a white T-shirt.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
, only without Jim Carrey or Kate Winslet or Kirsten Dunst dancing on a bed without a bra in her underwear and a white T-shirt.
The worst part about all of this is that
I
don’t get a memory purge. I get to remember everything I had. Everything I lost. I get to experience the pain of unrequited love. I get to embrace misery.
I
don’t get a memory purge. I get to remember everything I had. Everything I lost. I get to experience the pain of unrequited love. I get to embrace misery.
Jerry told me it was all part of becoming mortal, of accepting the human condition. A crash course in empathy.
He told me it would build character.
Right. Like Jerry knows anything about building character. He smote 14,700 Israelites just because they complained about the way he went about his business, for Christ’s sake. Not to mention the seventy thousand men he killed just because David took a census.
Obviously, I have some resentment issues I’m going to have to work through.
By the time we finally get through the cosmic construction zone, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m not going to tell Sara about what happened. About my getting fired. About her memory purge.
What would be the point? She’d just get upset and start to cry and then we’d spend our last day together watching the clock, counting down the hours, waiting for the end of us.
So I decide instead to tell her I’ve been let off with a warning. After I serve my suspension I’ll be reinstated to full immortality and get all of my abilities back. That way, rather than bemoaning our fate, we’ll have a reason to celebrate.
I just hope I can manage to pull it off.
Speaking of fate, before Jerry evicted me from his chambers, he informed me that after I’d made the transformation to human, even though I hadn’t technically been born, I’d be placed on the Path of Fate. Which is really now the Path of Chance, but I didn’t think Jerry was in much of a mood for semantics.
So in preparation for my becoming human, Jerry is having the necessary documentation drawn up—birth certificate, work history, and a preapproved Mileage Plus Visa with fifty thousand frequent-flier miles.
While I appreciate all of the effort Jerry is making to help to prepare a solid foundation to begin my human existence, I can’t help but bemoan the permanent loss of my ability to transport and go invisible, not to mention my Universal Visa Card and my membership to the Garden of Eden Health Club.
The steam baths there are paradise.
When Hermes drops me off at my apartment at just past eight in the morning and leaves in a huff when I don’t give him a tip, Sara isn’t home. All I have is a message on my cell phone that she went to the gym before work and probably won’t be home until after six.
Great. Our last day together and Sara’s going to be gone for most of it.
You’d think she would have stuck around to find out what happened. After all, it’s not every day your boyfriend has a hearing before God to determine the status of his immortality.
Or maybe I’m expecting too much.
I also need to take into account the fact that although the hearing took less than an hour in Jerry’s chambers, in Earth time I’ve been gone for almost three days.
I guess maybe Sara got tired of waiting.
So I call and leave a message on her voice mail, telling her I’m home and apologizing for being gone so long and that I have some good news and to come home as soon as she can.
I’m tempted to tell her the truth so she’ll come home and we can spend the full extent of our last day together. But I don’t want to upset her. And I don’t want to play the selfish card. After all, even if Sara would want to know the truth so she could treasure our last twenty-four hours together, she wouldn’t remember any of it. It’s not as if she’d be missing out on something she’d regret later.
I’m the one who’ll remember.
I’m the one who’ll be missing out.
I’m the one with the regrets.
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