“I wish I had some way of quickly finding out what kind of god I should be,” Ev said.
“You’ll get it, mate. Hell, you only recently found out about this place. I’ll tell you what Professor Strong told me after I first got here. Think about what the world is missing that you can give it, and you’ll know what kind of god to become.”
That hadn’t occurred to Ev. He had to admit, it was good advice. “Thanks, Jaysin. I’ll be thinking about that.”
Chapter VI
Ev sat on his living room floor playing with his toy cars. His mother had given to him for New Birth, and he thought they were the coolest things ever. They were slick colors and shiny, but mostly he liked them because they helped take his mind off his very real problems.
His mother, Anni Bannen, sat on the couch watching TV, her black eye still very visible. It had made her more sensitive to light, thus prompting her to replace the bulbs in the living room with ones with lower wattage. Dad hadn’t liked that, and literally twisted her arm to make her change them back. Nevertheless, she vigorously defended him at every turn, telling people he wasn’t a bad guy, just misunderstood.
But Ev understood. Even at such a young age, he understood perfectly. His father was a bad man, and his mother was just as bad for putting up with it. The world would have been much better-off it she would just call the police and get rid of him. But no, she kept him around—wanted him around, in fact—and Ev lived his life in constant fear as a result.
But now that he thought of it, was he any better than his mother? After all, he hadn’t reported his father’s abuse to anyone, either. Didn’t that make him just as bad as Anni?
He shook his head. You’re just a kid. You’re not responsible for any of this. But somebody needed to stand up for what was right. But it doesn’t have to be you. Then who should it have been? It should be Mom. She’s the adult here. If you stand up to him, you’ll just get beaten even worse than you already are. You might even die. Pain is terrifying, isn’t it? Death, even more so. But Mom surely didn’t want to die, either. Nevertheless, she’s the one who must take a stand here.
Ev’s internal struggle was interrupted by the front door’s screen door opening. Someone outside fiddled with the lock, struggling to jam the key into it. Loud, angry curses ensued as the battle went badly for the man.
Anni, realizing the danger of what was going on, rushed to the door and opened it. In stormed a man with dark disheveled hair who was wearing a jean jacket and jeans. “Took you long enough, renk,” he said, using the slur which only applied to the most worthless of women.
“I’m sorry. I got to the door as fast as I could.”
“As if I believvve that,” he slurred. He was completely drunk as usual. “When I get home, you open the door immed-ately!”
Anni instinctively cowed to him. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
He brought his face mere inches from hers. Even several feet below him, Ev could smell the alcohol on his breath. “We’re going to make sure you don’t.”
Her face displayed absolute terror. “W-We?”
“Ev,” his father said. He pulled out a small multi-purpose knife from his pocket and handed it to Ev. “I want you to cut your mother. We’re going to have a father-son moment here.”
“Please, don’t,” Anni pleaded.
“Do it, Ev,” Dom commanded.
Ev stared helplessly at the blade in his hand. “I-I don’t want to,” he said weakly.
“I’m not asking if you want to. I’m telling you to do it! Slice her good. It doesn’t matter where. Just cut her somewhere on her body so she knows not to do this again.”
Ev’s heart raced so fast he thought it would burst out of his chest. His hand trembled as his innocent mind contemplated the deed which was being demanded of him. Do it! You have no choice. No, it was wrong. She’ll forgive you. She understands. But what if she didn’t? If you don’t do it, you’re the one who will get cut. He may not even stop there.
Faced with a choice he could not make, he did the only thing he could: He dropped the knife and fell to the floor, bawling.
Dom said, “Oh, for the love of…!” He picked up the knife and pointed it at Anni. She ran into the kitchen and put the table between Dom and herself. Eventually, though, he caught her. He always caught her.
He brought the blade to her face…
* * *
Ev awoke in a cold sweat. He looked around the dorm room. The moonlight filtered in through the window, meaning it was late night or very early morning. He assumed Jaysin was still asleep on the top bunk.
His mind went back to that dream of his drunken father; his downtrodden mother; and the knife. That hadn’t been a specific memory. Rather, it was a composite of many similar occurrences. Dom Bannen had been a violent drunk. Fortunately, he could no longer hurt anyone.
His thoughts then went back to the words of Brandon Strong, passed on through Jaysin: What is the world missing that you can give it?
He was beginning to consider the answer to that question.
* * *
After class that day, Freya took Ev down to the Prayer Chamber. It was a bronze spherical room with what looked like a pillow in the center. Numerous lights aDomed the wall of the chamber, but the room itself was dimly lit. Freya explained this was to cut down on distractions and promote meditation.
“Meditation?” Ev said.
She nodded. “That’s right. “In order to hone in on peoples’ prayers, you must be able to focus.”
“So…how exactly do I do this?”
She motioned to the pillow. “Sit there, knees first.”
“All right.” He did so. It felt awkward because he hadn’t spent very much of his life in this position.
She now stood behind him. “Now place your hands on your legs.”
“OK…” It was a battle just to keep from falling over.
“Now then. You should be able to hear them, even now…so to speak.”
What did that mean? “‘So to speak’?”
“Shhh. Listen. Focus on the air within the Chamber. Hear the voices.”
He heard nothing. The place was deathly quiet. Try as me might, he could detect only silence. After several moments, frustration began to well up inside him. “This is—”
Wait. What was that? He thought he heard something just then. Not quite a voice; more like an indistinct whisper.
“Do you hear it, Ev?”
“I…I’m not sure. It sounds like…” He willed his mind to great focus. “Voices. But they’re kinda far-off. And I think there are a lot of them.”
“Good. You’re picking this up faster than most of the students here. Usually it takes hours just to hear the whispers.”
“Are they really the prayers of everyone on earth?”
“Not everyone,” she said. “Just everyone who is praying at this very moment.”
Still… “That’s a lot of people.”
Freya said, “No matter the time or world, people will always be desperate for help and guidance. Everyone had problems, and many believe only divine intervention can help them.”
Ev remembered all the prayers he had delivered as a child. This recollection darkened his soul once again. “Miss Freya…”
“Yes?”
“As a kid, I prayed all the time for some god—any god—to do something about my abusive father. No one ever answered those prayers.”
Her voice turned melancholy. “Ev…I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. There are so many prayers being delivered at any given moment. We can’t help everyone. That’s why we train new gods, so that more prayers can be answered.”
He was silent for a moment. Then, “I see.”
“Do you hate us?”
Ev shook his head. “No, I don’t hate you. What you said makes sense. You can’t help everyone. But now I’m more determined than ever to become a god so that I can keep people from falling through the cracks.”
He could hear
the gladness in her voice. “Brandon said you were a good choice to become a student here. Now I believe him.”
“Thanks.” He then said, “What do I do now? I can hear the voices, but I can’t make out what they’re saying.”
“You must enter a trance-like state. I’m going to leave you now so that you’ll have complete concentration. Try to focus on a single voice. If you finish before I return, come get me.”
And with that, Freya left. Ev found himself completely alone in the Chamber. He thought it had been quiet before, but now the silence was almost scary.
He closed his eyes and tried to follow Freya’s instructions. This turned out to be much easier said than done. The voices were like an army of mice, all of them skittering every which way. He couldn’t pin any single one down.
Suddenly, though, he became aware of a voice that was slightly louder than the rest. Like the others, he couldn’t make out what it was saying, but he got the feeling the person was close by. The only people close by were at the school, so it had to have been either a student or faculty member. Who did a god pray to?
As he concentrated further, putting all his mental energy into finding the source of the nearby prayer, he realized it wasn’t a prayer, at least not in the conventional sense. Instead, the person was crying. Who are you? he thought to himself. And why are you so sad?
As if the tortured soul had heard him, the crying stopped. Wait…Can you actually hear me?
No response.
Maybe I can help you.
Still, there was nothing. It seemed whoever had been crying wasn’t going to enlighten him any further. It occurred to him that if this person had become aware of his spiritual eavesdropping, they might not welcome the intrusion. Perhaps I’ll never know who it was.
Inwardly, he shrugged. He certainly couldn’t force a complete stranger to open up to him. And even if he knew who it was, he didn’t know if he could actually help them.
The episode must have taken longer than he thought, because Freya returned just then. “Any luck?”
“Kinda.”
“Were you able to hear anyone’s prayer?”
“Well…it wasn’t exactly a prayer.” He told her about it.
“That’s not so unusual,” she said. “Some people simply aren’t religious, and so don’t pray to anyone in particular. They have no god to voice their anguish to, so it simply comes out as crying.”
“But do you think it was really someone here at the Academy?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You’re new to this, so you may have misjudged the distance. The Chamber tends to make all prayers sound closer than they are.”
“But it sounded really close.”
She replied, “I wouldn’t worry about it just yet. You don’t yet have the ability to help that person, whoever they are. And they may find the answer to their problems on their own.”
“I guess you’re right. I just hope one day I can help anyone who needs it.”
She assured him, “If you keep at it, I’m sure you’ll be able to.”
Chapter VII
The next day was the start of the weekend. Ev anticipated he would have free time, but instead he found himself called down to the hezball court for more training. There he was met by the physical trainer, Atlas. This man was a good six and a half feet tall, bald, and looked like he had been chiseled out of rock by a master sculptor. He had a full, dark beard and wore a tracksuit—unlikely attire for a god, Ev decided.
“Listen up,” Atlas said. “Since you’re behind the other students right now in terms of your physical training, I’ve been asked to give you some one-on-one time. Don’t even think of slacking off. I held the weight of the world on my shoulders at one point, so my standards are very high.”
“I understand,” Ev said.
In response, Atlas got right up in his face. “Do you? Do you understand what it’s like, forced to stand in one position, day after day, unable to move or rest, all the while being kept from the one you love most?”
“Well…no.”
Atlas pointed a finger at him. “Then don’t pretend like you do.” That hadn’t, in fact, been what Ev had professed to understand, but he had a feeling this guy wasn’t going to take any lip from him.
So he simply said, “No, sir. I won’t, sir.”
The big man backed off. “Good. Just as long as we understand one another.
“Now, then; I want you to run clear to the end of the court and back.”
That seemed easy enough. Ev bent down, did some stretches, and then took off running. Almost instantly he became aware of how fast he was. It wasn’t exactly superhuman, but it was a lot faster than he remembered. His stamina seemed to have increased as well.
He quickly returned to Atlas. It felt like he had glided across the court, so effortless had it been. He imagined his trainer would be impressed with his performance.
He was wrong. “What in the name of Bethos was that? I could’ve sworn you were standing still.”
Ev didn’t know what to say. “I-I ran as fast as I could.”
“The hell you did. Let me show you how a real god moves.”
Ev wasn’t quite sure what happened next. One minute Atlas was standing there, and in an instant he was gone. An instant later he was back in place. Less than a second had passed. “Holy…!” He remembered what Jaysin had said about blasphemy, so he made sure not to finish that thought.
“That is how a god moves. And you won’t be graduating until you can do the same.”
No way! “How am I supposed to move like that?”
“With practice, of course. The same way you master anything. I’m going to really put you through your drills. Don’t worry; I’ll make a god out of you yet. Today we’ll focus on speed. I want you to keep running around the court.”
So for the next hour Ev ran back and forth across the shiny court. He felt himself get a little faster each time, but Atlas effortlessly stayed right beside him, “critiquing” his progress—or lack thereof. “You call that speed? Even when I held the weight of the world I could move faster than that.” “Come on—are you even trying?” “You’re almost going backwards, Bannen! Move it!” Then, just for kicks, he made Ev run backwards.
Despite the improved stamina, he eventually dropped to the floor, exhausted. His face was more sweat than flesh. He lay on his back, struggling to move air in and out of his body.
Atlas simply shook his head in disappointment. “Pathetic, Bannen! Maybe I was wrong about making you into a god.”
“Now, now. Don’t be so hard on him.”
Freya stepped onto the court. Atlas turned to greet her. “If I’m soft on him, he’ll never make it here.”
She said to Ev, “Hello, Ev. I just came to see how you were doing. Don’t mind Atlas too much. He means well. He just doesn’t know when to take it easy.”
“We have to be ready for whatever Zero Grade has planned. Don’t forget; this kid’s involved in it, whatever it is,” he reminded her.
Once again Ev’s thoughts went back to the organization of renegade gods. He had been able to briefly forget about their mysterious plans for him, though he still wondered what exactly they wanted with him.
A question now occurred to him. “You guys used to be on the same side, right? You and Zero Grade?”
Freya frowned. “Well…yes, we did. Or at least, we weren’t at odds.”
“So what changed?”
“Ego,” Atlas said. “A lot of gods want to be worshipped. But since we all started out as humans, some of us actually have some humility. The gods that formed Zero Grade wanted mortals to forever bow to them. They wanted humanity to bend over backwards to pray and offer tribute for all eternity. We couldn’t just stand back and let that happen. So we went to war and…well, let’s just leave it at that.”
Freya looked sad when Atlas finished his explanation. Maybe it was due to the digging up of old memories. Or maybe it had more to do with the part he had left out.
Whate
ver the reason, Ev got back to his feet. “All right; I’m ready to go again.” He was, in fact, tired as hell. But for some reason he felt renewed determination to see this through.
Atlas’ face glowed with what could almost be described as pride. “Good! There just might be hope for you yet.”
Smiling, Freya said, “Well, I have papers to grade. I’ll see you later, Ev. Let me know if he gets too rough with you.”
“There’s no such thing as too rough,” Atlas said.
After she left, Ev said, “You want me to continue running?”
“Nah,” Atlas said. “We’re going to move onto something more challenging.”
Ev felt his will being sapped. Something even worse than running until he dropped? Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Stupidly, Ev said, “Bring it on.”
Atlas nodded with approval. “All the running up until now has been preparation for this technique I’m going to teach you. It’s the secret of our speed. While you were running, you must have noticed energy flowing to your legs.”
“Now that you mention it, I did. I guess ‘energy’ is the right word. Too me, it felt more like a warmth, like when you drink alcohol.”
Atlas burst out laughing. “Alcohol! I never would have made that analogy. But yeah, I guess it is like good booze.
“Anyway, that ‘warmth’ is you subconsciously exerting your newfound energy and sending it to various parts of your body. But now I’m going to teach you to control that energy. Are you ready?”
Ev had no idea if he was actually ready, but he said, “Sure.” After all, there was no turning back now.
“All right, then. I want you to close your eyes, and visualize that energy.”
Ev did as instructed. He closed his eyes, and pictured the energy as an orange glow in his body. He had no idea what color—if any—it actually was, but orange seemed like as good a choice as any.
Atlas continued. “Now imagine it as a ball that starts in your stomach. You can send that ball anywhere in your body. You want to send it to your legs.”
God School Page 5