Robert Heinlein - JOB - A Comedy of Justice

'Alec, you need not call Me that. We met as friends. I hope we will stay friends.'

'How can we be friends? If I am Job. Your Majesty... where is my wife!'

'Alec, I wish I knew. Your memoir gave Me some clues and I have been following them. But I don't know as yet. You must be patient.'

'Uh... damn it, patient I'm not! What clues? Set me on the trail! Can't You see that I'm going out of my mind?'

'No, I can't, because you're not. I've just been grilling you. I pushed you to what should have been your breaking point, You can't be broken. However, you can't help Me search for her, not at this point. Alec, you've got to remember that you are human... and I am not. I have powers that you can't imagine. I have limitations that you cannot imagine, too. So hold your peace and listen.

'I am your friend. If you don't believe that I am, you are free to leave My house and fend for yourself. There are jobs to be had down at the Lake front - if you can stand the reek of brimstone. You can search for Marga your own way. I don't owe you two anything as I am not behind your troubles. Believe Me.'

'Uh... I want to believe You.'

`Perhaps you'll believe Katie.'

Katie said, 'Alec, the Old One speaks sooth to you. He did not compass your troubles. Dear, did you ever bandage a wounded dog... and have the poor beastie, in its ignorance, gnaw away the dressing and damage itself still more?'

'Uh, yes.' (My dog Brownie. I was twelve. Brownie died.)

'Don't be like that poor dog. Trust Jerry. If He is to help you, He must do things beyond your ken. Would you try to direct a brain surgeon? Or attempt to hurry one?'

I smiled ruefully and reached out to pat her hand. 'I'll be good, Katie. I'll try.'

'Yes, do try, for Marga's sake.'

'I will. Uh, Jerry - stipulating that I'm merely human and can't understand everything, can You tell me anything?'

'What I can, I will. Where shall I start?'

'Well, when lasked if I was Job, You said, "Yes and no." What did You mean?'

'You are indeed another Job. With the original Job I was, I confess, one of the villains. This time I'm not.

'I'm not proud of the fashion in which I bedeviled Job. I'm not proud of the fashion in which I have so often let My Brother Yahweh maneuver Me into doing His dirty work - starting clear back with Mother Eve - and before that, in ways I cannot explain. And I've always been a sucker for a bet, any sort of a bet... and I'm not proud of that weakness, either.'

Jerry looked at the fire and brooded. 'Eve was a pretty one. As soon as I laid eyes on her I knew that Yahweh had finally cooked up a creation worthy of an Artist. Then I found out He had copied most of the design.'

'Huh? But -'

'Man, do not interrupt. Most of your errors - this MY brother actively encourages - arise from believing that your God is solitary and all powerful. In fact My Brother - and I, too, of course - is no more than a corporal in the T.O. of the Commander in Chief. And, I must add, the Great One I think of as the C-in-C, the Chairman, the Final Power, may be a mere private to some higher Power I cannot comprehend.

'Behind every mystery lies another mystery. Infinite recession. But you don't need to know final answers - if there be such - and neither do I. You want to know what happened to you... and to Margrethe. Yahweh came to Me and offered the same wager We had made over Job, asserting that He had a follower who was even more stubborn than Job. I turned Him down. That bet over Job had not been much fun; long before it was concluded I grew tired of clobbering the poor schmo. So this time I told My Brother to take His shell games elsewhere.

'It was not until I saw you and Marga trudging along Interstate Forty, naked as kittens and just as helpless, that I realized that Yahweh had found someone else with whom to play His nasty games. So I fetched you here and kept you for a week or so -'

'What? Just one night!'

'Don't quibble. Kept you long enough to wring you dry, then sent you on your way... armed with some tips on how to cope, yes, but in fact you were doing all right on your own. You're a tough son of a bitch, Alec, so much so that I looked up the bitch you are the son of. A bitch she is and tough she was and the combo of that vixen and your sweet and gentle sire produced a creature able to survive. So I let you alone.

'I was notified that you were coming here; My spies are everywhere. Half of My Brother's personal staff are double agents.'

'Saint Peter?' -

'Eh? No, not Pete. Pete is a good old Joe, the most perfect Christian in Heaven or on earth. Denied his Boss thrice, been making up for it ever since. Utterly delighted to be on nickname terms with his Master in all three of His conventional Aspects. I like Pete. If he ever has a falling out with My Brother, hes got a job here.

`Then you showed up in Hell. Do you recall an invitation I extended to you concerning Hell?'

('- look me up. I promise you some hellacious hospitality.-´) 'Yes!'

Did I deliver? Careful how you answer; Sister Pat is listening.'

'She's not listening,' Katie denied. 'Pat is a lady. Not much like some people. Darling, I can shorten this. What Alec wants to know is why he was persecuted, how he was persecuted, and what he can do about it now. Meaning Marga. Alec, the why is simple; you were picked for the same reason that a pit bull is picked to go into the pit and be torn to ribbons: because Yahweh thought you could win. The how is equally simple. You guessed right when you thought you were paranoid. Paranoid but not crazy; were indeed conspiring against you. Every time you got close to the answer the razzle-dazzle started over again. That million dollars. Minor razzle-dazzle, that money existed only long enough to confuse you- I think that covers everything but what you can do. What you can do and all that you can do is to trust Jerry. He may fail - it's very dangerous - but He will try.'

I looked at Katie with increased respect, and some trepidation. She had referred to matters I had never mentioned to Jerry. 'Katie? Are you human? Or are you, uh, a fallen throne or something like that?'

She giggled. 'First time anyone has suspected that. I'm human, all too human, Alec love. Furthermore I'm no stranger to you; you know lots about me.'

'I do?'

'Think back. April of the year one thousand four hundred and forty-six years before the birth of Yeshua of Nazareth.'

'I should be able to identify it that way? I'm sorry; I can't.'

'Then try it this way: exactly forty years after the exodus from Egypt of the Children of Israel.'

The conquest of Canaan.

'Oh, pshaw! Try the Book of Joshua,, chapter What's my name, what's my trade; was I mother, wife, or, maid?'

(One of the best-known stories in the Bible. Her? I'm talking to her?) 'Uh... Rahab?'

'The harlot of Jericho. That's me. I hid General Joshua's spies, in my house... and thereby saved my parents and my brothers and sisters from the massacre. Now tell me I'm "well preserved".'

Sybil snickered. 'Go ahead. I dare you.'

'Gosh, Katie, you're well preserved! That's been over three thousand years, about thirty-four hundred. Hardly a wrinkle. Well, not many.'

"Not many"! No breakfast for you, young man!'

'Katie, you're beautiful and you know it. You and Margrethe tie for first place.'

'Have you looked at me?' demanded Sybil. 'I have my fans. Anyhow, Mom is over four thousand years old. A hag.'

'No, Sybil, the parting of the Red Sea was in fourteen-ninety-one BC. Add that to the date of the Rapture, nineteen-ninety-four AD. Then add seven years -´

"Alec.'

'Yes, Jerry?'

'Sybil is right. You just haven't noticed it. The thousand years of peace between Armageddon and the War in Heaven is half over. My Brother, wearing his Jesus hat, is now ruling on earth, and I am chained and cast down into the Pit for this entire thousand years.'