The offices inside the Los Angeles Herald-Tribune building were busy as usual with telephone conversations,
proofing, typing on computers and two- and three-people meetings around cluttered desks. Despite the ado, nothing seemed out
of the ordinary in the news at the moment; it was just another day on the job.
A beam of sunlight cascaded through a window and onto a particularly tidy desk near an editorial office door.
Kathy Lebchek rubbed her eyes and pushed herself away from her desk. One of the rollers on her chair chirped loudly and she
mentally noted to let maintenance know about it before it became a problem.
She had just finished a telephone conversation with her brother, Phil. He called because of a visit he made
to his doctor last Wednesday. The blood work up came back from the lab today and it was confirmed he was HIV positive. She
was aware Phil had used drugs in the past, sometimes shooting up with dirty needles in seedy locales; she also knew he had
slept around with various gay lovers.
Despite her warnings to him about his unsafe lifestyle, Phil had confirmed her worst fears about what might
happen. He was terribly depressed, as she expected, and she wondered about him committing suicide in the near future. Phil’s
emotions often drove his actions; she pondered these things as she opened her desk drawer and sorted various items absentmindedly.
"I can’t believe it!" Kathy exclaimed in an angry whisper-voice. She wiped a tear from her face and
shook her head, wondering what she could’ve done differently that might’ve helped Phil before he got mixed up
in drugs and casual sex partners. Deep down she knew that those decisions belonged to him alone, but a big sister always has
responsibility for her siblings.
"Why do you let things happen God?" Kathy demanded under her breath. She flung herself backward in her chair
and slammed her fist onto the padded chair arm. "If you really exist, I want to talk to you and ask you a few questions, buster!"
The phone on Kathy’s desk rang and she took a moment to calm herself before answering. She picked up
the receiver and answered, "Hello?" She nodded and said, "yes," then continued listening. After a short time, Kathy glanced
at her watch and said, "one o’clock at Kankari’s Bistro," then said, "Do you know where it is?" A moment later
a sardonic smile appeared on her face. "Of course you do, you’re God, right?"
Kathy put the phone down after a few more seconds and she scoffed out loud. "Right. You’re God and I’m
Joan of Arc."
Though not in the mood for nonsense, Kathy had listened to the man. His voice was pleasant, his speech articulate
and convincing. Finally she had agreed to meet with him at Kankari’s Bistro, a Mediterranean restaurant on 12th
Street.
Kathy stood up and glanced at her watch, it read 12:21 p.m. She scooped up her trusty pad of paper and checked
her purse for her digital voice recorder.
The restaurant was bustling with business as Kathy entered and met with the balding and portly maitre ‘d,
Plato. The first time she had met him, her chuckling had caught his attention after he introduced himself. Easy going, Plato
explained that his parents liked "The Republic" and decided to name their first child after the philosopher/author. Plato
escorted her to a table near the front door. Kathy advised him that a man identifying himself as God would be along shortly
to join her.
Plato acted as if such a thing was common and he nodded. "Of course, Ms. Lebchek." He headed back to his dias
to greet others entering.
Glancing around, Kathy carefully placed the pad of paper on the table and removed the voice recorder from
her purse, laying it on top of the paper. She moved the pad until it was perfectly straight with the lines on the tablecloth.
Kathy knew she was a borderline obsessive-compulsive disorder sufferer, though she never sought medical attention for it.
Sometimes it was a plus, and sometimes, as the "defective detective" as Adrian Monk could attest, it was a notch above a hassle.
A tall, blonde waitress approached and asked for Kathy’s order. Kathy asked for an unsweetened tea,
lemon please. The waitress, who evidently was new because Kathy didn’t recognize her, shuffled off toward the kitchen.
This was her favorite restaurant. Being single and not much of a cook, Kathy ate here at least five times
a week. It was the perfect place to meet with a man calling himself God. She knew all the exits and it was as public as anywhere
in the city. If he had rape or something else on his mind, this place would take away any ideas and provide her with some
modicum of security.
A few minutes after her tea had been delivered and with half of it consumed already, Kathy glanced at her
watch. It was ten after one. God was late. She shook her head and chortled to herself that she was being silly to even show
up. She knew he was obviously lying, but something in her was curious. The timing, she admitted, was uncanny.
"I am here." It was the voice she had heard on the phone.
Kathy turned and saw a man standing behind her. He was medium height, thin and slightly balding. His brown
eyes were friendly as he extended an open hand to her. Kathy stood up and accepted his hand. She stood eye to eye with him.
"You must be God?"
The man shook her hand softly and grinned. "I am."
"Please sit." Kathy gestured to her table and she seated herself as the man walked around to his chair. "How
did you get past Plato?" she queried.
"I didn’t come through the front door, Ms. Lebchek."
Kathy smiled nervously and eyed him as he sat down. His clothes certainly didn’t speak of his "Godliness,"
Kathy thought. He wore pleated brown slacks, an ivory-tinted button-up shirt and dark leather loafers.
"I like it here," God said as he glanced around at the paintings of Greek gods and scenes of boats, coasts
and Greek homes built into massive hills. "I like the ambiance of it."
"Are you jealous?" Kathy couldn’t help but comment on the paintings of the Greek gods surrounding them.
"Not at all," God admitted. "There is only one God. Unfortunately too many people failed to realize that in
their time."
The waitress approached, seemingly noticing that a new customer had come in. "May I get you something to drink?"
God shook his head. "No, thank you."
The waitress glanced at Kathy’s tea. "Would you like a refill?"
Kathy nodded, pushing her half-emptied glass toward the edge of the table. "Please." The waitress scooped
up the glass and headed off again.
"I’ve got a lot of questions for you, God. Uh, you do want to be called God, right?" Kathy teased.
"Jehovah, Abba, Krishna, Great Spirit, God, Allah, Ra, Lord. They’re all good."
"Okay. God it is." Kathy scribbled onto her pad of paper and turned her digital voice recorder on. "You don’t
mind do you?"
God smiled. "I don’t, but it won’t do you any good. It won’t record my voice."
Kathy nodded. "Okay, I’ll take my chances, alright?"
"Fine."
Kathy scoffed. "Listen, I’m not too sure about this whole God thing. You can’t actually believe
that you are really the God?"
God nodded slowly. "Absolutely. I am the one and only God."
"Can you prove it?" Kathy inquired not-so-subtly.
"I suppose you’d like to see a miracle of some sort? Perhaps some type of impossible feat? Maybe a windstorm
suddenly appearing in the kitchen or possibly a floating plate across the room?"
Kathy shrugged and leaned forward. "You’re God, surprise me."
God shook his head. "It would be a bit much for me to be performing miracles in a crowded restaurant in downtown
Los Angeles, don’t you think?"
"I’d like to know I’m really dealing with the God and not some faker."
God shrugged. "Something subtle?"
"Show me something, anything," Kathy urged.
God glanced around and pointed to a painting on a far wall. "Are you familiar with that painting over there?"
Kathy could see a painting of a tiny fishing boat being tussled on tumultuous waves off of a Mediterranean
coast. The man’s face in the painting was of absolute fear and dread. She had looked at it many times in the past few
years. "Yes. What about it?"
"I’ll change it so the water is calm and the fisherman’s face is unworried, not frightened."
Kathy stared at the painting. After several seconds, nothing had changed. "Okay, ready."
God was not looking at the painting anymore. His eyes were on Kathy. "Give it time, Ms. Lebchek. I’m
changing it slowly so that someone doesn’t notice it outright. Again, I like subtlety."
Kathy forced a grin to her face. "Oh, I see. It’ll change over time, right?"
"Yes."
"How long?"
God shrugged. "It’ll happen, trust me. In the meantime why don’t we get onto your questions."
"I’m curious about your presence. I mean, when you showed up, it was so non-chalant and humble."
God smiled warmly. "I see. You’re wondering why my arrival wasn’t announced with heavenly trumpets
and angels flying or dancing on the clouds? Is that it?"
"Something like that."
"I’ve tried to explain to you," God said slowly. "I’m not here today to make a grandiose or haughty
entrance, I am here to answer your prayer for an interview. Being all-powerful should be prefaced with a certain humbleness."
Kathy muttered something under her breath and scribbled onto her notepad again. "Well, all right. Let’s
get onto something more terrestrial. Tell me about Earth."
"What would you like to know?" God asked.
"How did you create it?" Kathy asked.
"Spontaneous explosion, particles attaching to each other instantaneously. The Big Bang theory is very close
to the truth."
Kathy chuckled. "It’s convenient that we have that particular scientific theory for you to use for your
explanation."
"The theory wouldn’t exist if it hadn’t happened that way. Plants grow from nutrients in the ground,
water to satiate it and sunlight to prosper stalks and leaves. It was a fact long before scientists theorized about it. Theories
don’t make something a fact, the truth of the matter makes something a fact."
"Wasn’t your son asked about the truth the day he died?"
God nodded. His smile receded. "He was asked about it. My son was such a blessing to my children and most
never appreciated it. I’m sure if you doubt me, Ms. Lebchek, you doubt my son."
Kathy shook her head. "Oh, I think Jesus was real. His deity is in question, but I believe he did once exist."
"I’m glad you accept him in at least an historical way. My son did so much for mankind and still he
is rebuked. I know you rebuke him. You were once open to me and my son, but you have long since despised us. Your time in
college changed much of who you once were. You might say that you lost your soul in college. It happens much too often in
this time. Universities have become a playground for Lucifer."
"The Big Bang did happen, then?" Kathy asked, changing the topic that was becoming much too personal.
"Yes. The only part that scientists leave out is my role in it. The Big Bang theory is really nothing more
than the expression of my will on things that are unenterprising in and of themselves."
"A long-winded and interesting take on it."
"You doubt me," God said calmly.
"Of course. So you paid attention in science class as a kid, that doesn’t make you supreme ruler of
the universe."
"Universes," God corrected.
"Oh, universes? I guess you have thousands of them in the palm of your hand?" Kathy asked sarcastically.
"Metaphorically, I suppose. More accurately, there are billions of universes."
"Really? I guess you’ll tell me there is extraterrestrial life outside of our galaxy too?"
"Within it as well."
Leaning forward again, Kathy sighed. "So we have aliens in our neighborhood?"
"Not close, but yes."
"Are they little green men with big black eyes?" Kathy countered.
"There are some like that. Most of them are quite similar to humans."
Kathy scribbled onto her pad and shook her head. "Anything else I should know about aliens?"
God leaned back and eyed her carefully. "I know you are thinking about Roswell at this very moment."
Kathy glanced at him, her smile eroded. "What?"
"You were thinking about the infamous Roswell incident at the very moment you asked me that question."
"How did you know that?"
God smiled. "I’m God, remember?"
Kathy decided this guy was a bit sharper than she had anticipated. Although she had been thinking about the
Roswell incident at that moment, there was no way he could know that. It was a lucky guess.
"It wasn’t a lucky guess," God added suddenly.
Kathy’s face blanched. "How are you doing that?"
"I’m God."
"Right!" Kathy laughed as she pointed at the man across the table from her. "You are good, but you are not
God."
"If you are wondering, the Roswell incident did happen. Your government did cover it up and still denies it
happened."
"Full of state secrets?" Kathy asked.
"Every last one of them."
"If that’s true, who shot JFK?"
God sighed and rubbed his chin. "That was a terrible day, wasn’t it?"
"Yes, though I hadn’t been born yet."
"Lee Harvey Oswald shot him."
"That’s what everyone says, so if you say so it must be true," Kathy said.
"But let me say this," God said with his smile gone from his face. "He didn’t act alone. I think you’ll
find Fidel Castro at the center of it if you knew the truth."
Kathy’s face was emotionless. "That’s interesting. I’ve heard that theory. I’ve also
heard it was the CIA, greedy corporations wanting the Vietnam War to continue and a power hungry LBJ."
"All good theories, but not true."
Kathy moved her digital voice recorder slightly as she pondered another question. She glanced at God and wondered
how he had anticipated her thoughts so accurately a moment ago. This guy was better than the average carnival act, she had
to concede that fact.
"Let’s talk about wars," Kathy started.
"A very difficult topic, but frequent in the history of mankind," God interjected.
"Yeah, we are a warring species. At the heart of most wars is a basic disagreement in religious beliefs. How
is it that so many people believe in a god and use that god as the catalyst for all their violence?"
God clasped his hands under his chin and seemed to be studying Kathy’s face. "That is a question that
many people have asked me, Ms. Lebchek."
"Really? How do you answer them?"
"Free will and human error."
"Oh, I see," Kathy said with a sarcastic smile. "The free will thing."
"Yes. Don’t forget human error."
"No, of course not."
"You see," God added, "I gave man the ability to choose his own destiny, to make his own decisions. The one
ingredient to all of this is human fallibility. People make bad decisions and then I’m blamed for the bad results."
Kathy leaned back and sighed. "That’s convenient for you to say."
"I don’t start or endorse wars under most circumstances. I don’t ask that most wars happen. Men
interpret my wishes in many ways and often they are wrong. I want my love to prosper on earth, not used as an excuse to use
military force."
"So this whole Muslim-Christian thing is simply human error then?" Kathy asked, sarcasm dripping from her
lips.
"Of course. The Crusades from centuries ago are as wrong as the Muslim Jihad is today."
"Why don’t you stop it?"
God sighed, his eyes dropped to the top of the table, then he glanced back at her. "I try not to interfere
with man. I want all of you to learn from your mistakes on your own."
"You’d save millions of lives and stop the suffering of innocents. Besides we’ve been having religious
wars for centuries. If mistakes could be learned from in that context, shouldn’t it have happened by now?"
"You are correct, of course. Humans have the ability to learn from their mistakes, they don’t always
apply their knowledge to things."
Kathy rubbed the side of her nose as she continued taking notes. "What is the answer to the problem—you
know, the whole war-for-religion thing?"
"Realizing that I want peace and brotherhood, not war."
"It’s that simple? Just realizing? How do we go about that?"
God opened his hands out in front of him, as if trying to explain something not easily put into words. "It
sounds simple, but it’s clearly not. I think mankind knows what’s right, but has a hard time coming to grips with
it. When anger, revenge, greed, coveting and several other things are added into the mix, it becomes convoluted and less clear
to the observer."
Kathy nodded in agreement. She had to admit that he was absolutely right, as simplistic as it sounded. "I’m
going to change gears, God, if you don’t mind. I would like to ask you about a few political issues."
God smiled, as if he had anticipated the questions to come. "Politics are local, Ms. Lebchek. They belong
to their individual owners. Politics are not multi-dimensional."
"That’s a great way to start it out," Kathy countered. "So you are disqualifying yourself immediately?"
"Not disqualifying per se, just letting you know that politics are like individual thoughts and actions."
God touched the side of his face and glanced at his fingers. "It feels warm in here to me."
Kathy leaned forward. "God is susceptible to temperature changes?"
"Only in human form."
Clearing her throat, Kathy continued. "How do you feel about abortion?"
"I hardly call that political," God said sternly. "Abortion is murder."
"It’s political here in this country and many other places in the world. Many of us don’t consider
it murder. That includes the Supreme Court."
"It’s an act of wrongdoing to counteract, in most cases, a wrongdoing," God advised.
"What if the mother’s life is in jeopardy? How is that a wrongdoing?" Kathy’s eyes were piercing
the man across from her. This issue, as well as a number of others, needed advocacy and she was proud to be among them.
"Some call it God’s Will or natural selection, if you will. Because a doctor says that a woman’s
life is in danger does not make it a fact. That decision should be mine, not a doctor’s or anyone else."
"I can’t understand a God who could let something like that happen. It seems unfair to everyone involved."
God nodded. "It’s not about fairness, Ms. Lebchek. There are things at work constantly on this planet,
some beyond your understanding. Can you see a million things happen at once? Chaos Theory actually is quite accurate. Certain
interferences disturb things and cause greater harm at some other point, whether or not you know about it."
Kathy shook her head. "I don’t buy into the Chaos Theory stuff. I think things happen because we make
them happen, for better or for worse."
"That makes for great conversation, but ultimately mankind is very much like a toddler playing with a venomous
viper. The toddler has no idea what he is doing is dangerous and the viper is only acting as its instincts direct it."
"Maybe we should move on to another topic, I don’t think we can agree on this one."
God shrugged, his eyes glued to Kathy’s own blue eyes. "As you wish."
"What about homosexuality? Bible thumpers, no offense intended, say that gay people are going to Hell. What
do you say about it?"
"Quite a subject in today’s time isn’t it?"
Kathy nodded. "Yes it is."
"A man should not lay with another man. A woman should not lay with another woman. It’s that simple."
"Actually," Kathy said as she gathered her words, "it’s not. We don’t know if it’s genetic
or not. Maybe it’s out of the hands of those who live that lifestyle."
"It’s entirely in the hands of those who choose to live like that. Sex is for reproduction and reproduction
cannot occur with two people of the same gender."
"You simplify it well, God, but I don’t believe homosexuals choose to be like that. Who would want to
bring the hatred and abuse of the religious on themselves like that unless it couldn’t be helped?"
"Reasons vary, Ms. Lebchek, but believe me when I say that each person makes that choice for him- or herself."
Kathy shook her head and chuckled. "Again, it looks like a stalemate. Since the topic has been broached, what
about Hell? Does it exist?"
"Not in the sense you think about," God answered.
"Really? What sense is that?" Kathy asked, curiosity in her voice.
"Fire and brimstone," God said. "Hell is being separated from me for eternity."
Kathy’s head cocked slightly. "You mean that sinners don’t go to a fiery end? There’s no
devil prodding people along with a pitchfork as they wade through flames?"
"No."
"So what about Heaven? Does Heaven exist?"
"Yes."
Kathy gestured with her hands. "Can you elaborate?"
"Of course. Heaven exists and those who are good and decent will enter into upon their demise in this life."
"Angels strumming harps? Golden streets? St. Peter with the Book of Life? Just like it says in the Bible?"
"I think it’s a bit more complicated than that, Ms. Lebchek," God said with a smile pasted to his face.
"It’s an existence of another dimension. It would be very difficult to explain so that you would adequately understand."
"Beyond the human experience, huh?"
"You can’t possibly understand." God wiped sweat from his face again.
"My brain is just too small?" she queried teasingly.
"You have no basis for associating the experience," God offered. "It would be like asking a garden snail what
it’s like to drive a car."
Kathy sniffed and shook her head. "You know your stuff, mister, I’ll give you that."
"You ask the questions, Ms. Lebchek, I’m simply answering."
"How about the Devil? Does he exist?" Kathy inquired off-the-cuff.
"Yes."
"So he’s stalking mankind, trying to steal souls and the like?"
"More or less."
"For what purpose? I mean you’ve already said there’s no Hell. Why bother if you are Lucifer?"
"Simply put, to keep them out of Heaven."
Kathy shook her head. "That’s it? He’s just wanting to keep man out of Heaven without the pleasure
of tormenting them in Hell?"
God frowned. "His tormenting happens here on Earth. Death in this life means either an eternal separation
from my love or paradise. Lucifer is doing his utmost to keep souls from entering Heaven."
"Interesting," Kathy admitted. "I haven’t heard those theories before. I’ll give you two points
for originality, God."
God grinned. "As you wish."
"Are there such things as ghosts? You’ve mentioned souls, are ghosts the remnants of those folks who
are in transition to Heaven or the grave?"
"No."
"Okay. No to what?" Kathy asked.
"No, there are no ghosts."
"What about all these stories of ghosts and apparitions and voices caught on tape in graveyards?"
"This is a bit complex, Ms. Lebchek, so please bear with me," God said apologetically.
"Okay, shoot."
"There are other dimensions on nearly every planet in all universes."
"Very well, please continue."
"Some of these other dimensions intermingle with each other. Think of smoke swirling around a campfire."
"So ghosts are from another dimension?"
"You haven’t heard me, Ms. Lebchek, please. There are no ghosts. When you die, your soul waits until
my judgment. That’s it in a nutshell."
"Then you lost me with the smoke analogy," Kathy confessed softly.
"What I meant is that other dimensions mingle around each other like smoke around a campfire. Most of the
time, dimensional beings are invisible to each other, but occasionally they come into contact by accident. Apparitions are
not ghosts, they are beings from another dimension living a life as real to them as yours is to you."
"It sounds confusing to me. Why so complicated?"
"Again, it is somewhat beyond your experience and knowledge so what I am saying is very foreign to you. Just
trust me that there are other beings in other dimensions."
Kathy nodded slowly. She tried to wrap her mind around it but wasn’t having much luck with it.
"Let’s touch on another hot topic," Kathy insisted.
"Okay."
"Some say that AIDS is God’s punishment for lascivious or sinful living. Scientists say it’s disease
that happens as a matter of time, evolution and biology. What does God have to say about it?" Kathy’s pen hovered above
the pad of paper.
"Why can’t something just be what it is?" God answered.
"And what would that be?"
"A terrible disease that lurks ominously throughout the world."
"But why? I mean AIDS didn’t exist when I was young, why now? Why not in the time of Sodom and Gomorrah?"
"Showers of fire and brimstone took care of that aforementioned city. Sometimes I like to be subtle in my
approach to things."
Kathy scoffed. "You call AIDS subtle?"
"I could’ve used fire and brimstone. We both know that method is anything but subtle."
"But why? Why not take out pedophiles or serial killers? Aren’t there worse sinners than homosexuality?"
God shifted in his seat, his eyes glued to Kathy’s. "Humans have this idea that sins should be ranked.
Your laws and punishment are all about a ‘bad to worse’ ranking system that ranges from a parking ticket to capital
murder." God stopped and seemed to be considering his thoughts. "In my eyes, a sin is a sin. I take them on one at a time."
"I think God is wrong about this," Kathy said defiantly.
"I have given you free thought and you can choose to believe that way. Mine is not a simple method, but it
has a purpose."
"So it seems that AIDS is indeed punishment?" Kathy inquired.
"As are venereal diseases and other afflictions."
"You should know that I believe that we should forgive and forget. Transgressions happen to all of us and
it’s not right that diseases ravage our bodies over mistakes."
God smiled. "Listen carefully, Ms. Lebchek," God said as he leaned toward her confidentially, "Mistakes are
mistakes. Defiance of my word is another matter."
The waitress showed up at their table and asked if she could bring anything else to them. God shook his head
and smiled at the tired-looking lady. "No thank you. I will be leaving momentarily."
Nodding, the waitress moved away from the table. God reached out and touched her apron. "Naomi?"
The waitress turned around glanced at her waitress’s apron, a name tag hadn’t been issued to her
yet. She cocked her head, as if trying to remember the man’s face. "How do you know me?"
"We’ve never met, but I know you," God said with a calm voice. "I wanted to let you know that everything
is going to be alright. Your son will be fine, don’t worry."
The waitress shook her head. "How do you. . .?," she glanced at Kathy for some kind of visual support of her
fears. "I, uh, who are you?"
"I’m a friend, Naomi," God answered. "I’m here to let you know that your son will be in full remission
soon and you will never have to worry about it again. Jacob is going to live to a ripe old age. You are a good mother, Naomi."
Kathy leaned toward God. "How do you know her?"
Naomi put her face into her hands and ran off toward the kitchen. God glanced at Kathy and smiled. "She’s
frightened and confused but soon she will find out for herself."
"Have you met her before today?" Kathy asked.
"No." God’s eyes seemed to penetrate into her own.
"What’s wrong with her son?"
"He has, or more accurately, had Leukemia."
"And you know this how?" Kathy asked, incredulous at what was happening.
"Because I’m omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent," God answered.
Kathy shook her head. She just couldn’t believe all of this. The man was good. But how could he be that
good? How he knew all these things was beyond her, but so are all the illusions of David Copperfield. That doesn’t make
Mr. Copperfield a god.
"Before I leave, Ms. Lebchek, do you have any other questions for me?"
"Did you cure her son? Is that what you’re saying?" Kathy all but demanded.
"Yes."
"Why him? Why not the 50 million others with diseases and infirmaries?"
"I have my reasons. You may not understand but I have a certain method of doing things, Ms. Lebchek."
"It’s that Chaos thing again, right?"
"You understand it as Chaos, I call it My Will."
"If you are God—if God really exists, cure my brother!" Kathy spat out suddenly. She had said it before
she realized it. "Please."
God placed a hand on Kathy’s arm and smiled. "Your brother is. . ." God’s words seemed to trail
off.
"My brother’s what?" Kathy asked, her eyes searching God’s for any kind of clue as to what would
come out of his mouth. "What about him?"
"Your brother is going to die." His smile dissipated and he cast his eyes to the table top again.
Kathy’s mouth opened and closed but she didn’t speak. Then, "Die? From AIDS or from what?"
"I shouldn’t tell you these things, Ms. Lebchek. Fate is best left to its own devices."
"You can’t just leave me with that and then walk out of here. You owe me that much, God, or whoever
you are." Kathy wiped tears from her eyes and glanced around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation. No one
appeared to be paying attention.
"I must, I’m sorry," God said as he stood up. "Please just tell your brother that he should get all
his affairs in order. Ask him to accept my son as his savior, to talk to me in his prayers. I am listening, you know."
Kathy stood up and put both hands on God’s arm. "I’m begging here, please. Don’t let him
die like this."
"Just one thing, Ms. Lebchek," God said as he caressed her arm. "Phil will not die from AIDS or his drug addiction.
His death will be separate from those things and it will happen very soon."
"Please, is there anything I can do?" Kathy pleaded.
"Go see him. Tell him how you feel. Be his big sister as you have always been."
Kathy’s hands dropped as God stepped away and headed for the front door. She ran outside a moment later
to find him, but he wasn’t there. She glanced around but he was nowhere in sight.
She stamped her foot and continued filtering the crowds of people walking here and there with her eyes. "I
wasn’t through with the interview!" Kathy exclaimed angrily. Kathy walked back into the restaurant and fished a five
dollar bill from her purse. She scooped up her voice recorder and pad of paper. As she walked to the exit, she glanced over
at the painting and noticed, even from across the room, that it was different. She stopped, turned and walked toward it.
Upon approach, Kathy could see that it had indeed changed as the man calling himself God had said. Her eyes
began tearing up and she headed toward the exit again. She pushed a button on her voice recorder, rewinding it, and then listened:
her voice was the only one perceptible. She shook her head and knew that this couldn’t be happening. Had she really
talked to God?
Kathy pulled a cell phone from her purse and dialed a number as quick as she could. She stepped onto the sidewalk
and waited for an answer at the other end.
"Hello?" someone answered.
"Hi, Phil. It’s Kat. . ." Kathy’s voice tapered off as she fought the knot forming in her throat.
"You going to be home later? I need to come by and talk to you."
Yes, she indeed needed to talk to him. And she needed to talk to God.
