“And you chose … crucifixion? I think I’m missing the silver lining of this story.”
“We always have a choice.”
“And you have terrible judgment. Okay. Noted.”
“No, no. I knew that crucifixion would have a greater impact, and yes, it was not fun from what I can remember, but simply knowing I wasn’t locked into the single outcome was greatly helpful. You may have a destiny, but it can take many shapes, and you get to choose which one it takes.”
Judith returned with the drinks in a cardboard holder.
“He just said he didn’t have to be crucified,” Jessica said, hoping for a reassuring reaction of solidarity.
“Of course he didn’t have to be.”
Jesus stabbed his straw into the top of his lid and drank deeply before making a face.
“Right,” Judith said. “They only had Pepsi.”
He nodded. “Not a problem.” Then he shut his eyes and held an open palm over his cup for a moment before taking another sip. “Mmm …”
Ugh. A useful miracle. Naturally, he got it and not her.
She held out her cup for him to do the same for her drink, and as he did, she replied, “What do you mean, ‘Of course he didn’t have to be’?”
“It’s a typical human sacrifice. They never have to happen.”
“But he offered himself up.”
“So? There’s a long history of human sacrifices volunteering for that shit. They thought it was an honor.”
Jess looked at her half-brother to see what he had to say on this account, but he was too involved with his drink. She never should’ve introduced him to sugary drinks.
But once she had a sip of hers, her brain chemistry started to change. Or maybe the fries were finally taking effect. “So, you’re saying I have to start a cult. Then I have to turn that cult into a religion.”
Judith shrugged. “Something like that.”
“How do I do it?”
“You gotta start convincing a few people that God is a woman. Then you convince more people. And when enough people are convinced, people will stop calling it a cult and start calling it a religion.”
Could it really be that simple?
“Okay, let’s go with that, then. Y’all believe God’s a woman, right?”
“No,” Jesus said simply. “I can hear Him. He sounds like a man. Also, He’s my Father, so.”
“Open your mind a little on what that means,” Judith said.
“And you?” Jessica asked. “You believe God’s a woman?”
Judith chuckled. “No. I pretty much swing wildly between being an atheist who thinks you’re completely out of your mind and believing God exists but is a huge dickhead.”
Jessica crinkled her nose. “Well, you’re right on the second part.”
Her half-brother nodded sagely. “He can often present as a meanie.”
Jessica stared down at her empty fry boat, a small pool of grease in it reflecting the harsh overhead lighting. “But that means the two people closest to me don’t buy what I’m selling.”
“Of course we don’t. That’s why we’re on this trip with you. We’re your co-conspirators, not your followers. We’re here to help you figure things out, not the other way around.”
The notion of having co-conspirators was strangely calming, and she said, “Okay, so say I want to start a cult. How do I do that?”
Judith already had an answer ready. “What are some commonalities we’ve seen in the four we’ve visited so far?”
Jessica considered it. “Charismatic leader.”
“Okay, so that one’s obviously out for you. What else?”
She didn’t bother arguing. “They all believe something ridiculous.”
“Excellent point,” Jesus said. “Every religion starts by someone saying something most people think is ridiculous.”
“And how do you sell it to people?”
They were silent for a moment, then Judith said, “Jeremy Archer.”
“We’re already using his media connections to—”
“No, not like that. I mean has Jeremy ever believed something that everyone else believed?”
Jesus chuckled. “No. It’s wonderful!”
“And it also makes him a conspiracy theorist,” Judith added. “You think if everyone started believing something he believed, he would still believe it?”
“Not a chance,” Jessica said, catching on. “He would come up with some other conspiracy to disprove it.”
Judith wagged a finger at her. “Exactly. We just met a whole lot of people like Jeremy in those cults.”
“Ahh …” Jesus said, smacking his forehead with his palm. “That is why I enjoyed them so much. They reminded me of my best friend! I wonder if they, too, believe Jameson Fractal is Bigfoot.”
Judith squinted at him. “Wait, he believes that? But he’s met Jameson.”
He chuckled. “Yes, I know. It seems silly. And yet … have you ever seen the Bigfoot and Jameson in the same room?”
Jessica ignored him. “You’re right. They all wanted to believe something that almost no one else believes.”
“And the leaders were able to find and gather those people to them.”
“How?”
“That’s the million-dollar question. But I can name someone who does know.”
“Who?” Then, “Oh, are you shitting me? No, no, no. Never in a thousand years would I get his help on this.”
Judith held up her hands to calm her. “I understand why you say that, but the man has thousands of people believing that God is a hog.”
“To be fair, God was a hog for a while.”
“And God will be a woman if you can pull this off.”
Jessica sighed. “His congregations take communion out of silver troughs. I don’t want anything like that.”
“That’s fine. It wouldn’t work with what you’re selling anyway. But you know I’m right.”
“I don’t know that. Because Jimmy would never help me. He might pretend to, but only if he thought it could get him something he wanted. Once he got that he would throw me to the lions. Figuratively.”
“Okay. Then you make sure what you need him to do could also help him. And the moment before he’s about to ditch you, you ditch him.”
“If I was smart enough to do that, I would’ve done it all those times before instead of getting screwed.”
Judith rolled her eyes. “You mean back when you were a kid? Yeah, I’d hope you were a little smarter now than you were then.”
“It’s not happening. Any plan that involves Jimmy fucking Dean is a plan that I won’t sign off on.”
The sound of Jesus getting to the bottom of his drink interrupted the conversation, and he looked up. “Any chance there are free refills?”
Judith nodded, and the son of God jumped up and raced to the drink fountain.
“There are rules, too,” said Judith.
“About the refills?” Jessica asked.
“No. It’s practically international waters over at the drink fountain. I’m talking about the cults. Did you notice, they had all these rules for everyone to follow?”
“Yeah, duh.”
“People who join cults must like rules. Or maybe they just like knowing there are rules that only they know.”
“The rules were always different, though.”
“And they were never written down.”
Jessica paused. “I didn’t notice that. No, they were never written down.”
“Because they needed to change and evolve every time the world was supposed to end but it didn’t.”
“But all religions have rules written down, right?”
Judith nodded patiently. “Yep. Even Joseph Smith had those golden tablets. Before an angel spirited them away ever so conveniently.”
“Who?”
“Joseph Smith. The Mormon dude.”
“Mormons are a religion, right?”
“Anybody’s guess, really. But they sure as shit know
how to run things. You’d do good to take some lessons from the Latter Day Saints.”
Jessica wasn’t thinking about that, though. Her mind had wandered down a different path. “If I write down some rules, that means I’m founding a religion and not a cult …”
“If you say so. It also means it’s going to be a hell of a lot harder to get the early adopters and keep them if you can’t manipulate them by changing the rules.”
“I don’t want to manipulate them!”
“Sure, you just want to convince them to believe something that isn’t, in this present moment, true. Maybe even commit their whole lives to it.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Yes?” He sat down, his giant drink in front of him.
“Did you write down any rules about Christianity?”
“No. I had friends do that. And Moses had a lot of it covered already.” His eyes crossed as he wrapped his lips around the straw.
Jessica’s mouth fell open. “You’re that guy.”
“What guy?”
“The one who gets everyone else in the group to do the work while he gets the credit.”
“That’s hardly fair,” he said. “I died for your sins.”
“Not mine,” she said.
He wasn’t deterred. “Writing was never my strong suit.”
“It’s not mine, either,” Jessica said. “But I guess I’m going to have to get used to it.”
“Or you could have someone else do it.” He jerked his head toward Judith.
“Nuh-uh,” she said. “I didn’t get an English degree to become a goddamn scribe. I got it to pretend I’d be a writer someday but end up a teacher instead.”
“And how’s that going for you?” Jessica asked.
“Great, thanks. I’ve avoided being a teacher by being a barista.”
“Not anymore. You quit that job. You’re unemployed. I think that makes you a writer.”
“I’d have to write to be a writer.”
“I don’t think that’s true. And now you’re my scribe.”
“I’m not your goddamn scribe!”
“You are. You’re my goddamn scribe.”
“No! And fuck you for saying it!”
Jessica snuck a quick glance at Jesus, who appeared stunned by Judith’s outburst, then said, “I know you don’t mean that. I forgive you.”
Judith shivered and a small moan slipped between her lips. She blinked and looked around, then focused in on Jessica again. “Don’t you start that holy shit with me.”
Jessica smiled innocently. “I thought you were an atheist who thought I was insane.”
“Not today. Today, I’m a believer who thinks God is a dickhead for giving you that power.”
Jessica leaned back on the bench. “And today I agree with you.” She stood. “I’m gonna see what that docent thinks makes a woman. You should come with me and take notes.”
Judith narrowed her eyes at Jessica. “I’ll come with you, but I’m not taking notes.”
“Suit yourself.”
Chapter Sixteen
They’d just crossed the state line from Utah into Colorado when Jessica said from behind the wheel, “I got another.”
Judith was riding shotgun, and she pulled out the notepad from her pocket and said, “Shoot.”
“Sex should be consensual, respectful, and not include non-human animals.”
Judith copied that down. “That last bit seems like a dig at White Light.”
“It does, but I’ve been saying that since long before they started doing their thing.”
“We’re calling pig fucking ‘doing their thing’ now? Good to know.”
From behind them, Jesus said, “Utah was beautiful. But I don’t like that I wasn’t allowed in the temple.”
Judith grinned. “Yeah, I wish we could have told them who you really are. The looks on their faces once they realized they’d refused Jesus entry because he wasn’t a Mormon? Priceless.”
“It makes you wonder what was going on in there,” Jesus added.
“That it does,” Judith said. “That it does.”
“Some people might find that appealing,” Jessica said. “The mystery might make them want to convert.”
“That’s good,” Judith said. “I’m writing that down.” She read off the words as she scribbled them. “Create … mystery … excluding … Jesus.”
“Hey! Why are you being a meanie?”
“I’m screwing with you. Take it easy.”
They pulled over for gas, and while Jesus pumped, a process that delighted him to no end, Judith and Jessica went inside to empty their tanks and refuel.
They stacked a small pile of candy bars, chips, Dr. Pepper, and water on the counter, and the clerk stared down at them without saying a word. But he also didn’t start ringing them up.
“That’s all for us,” Jessica said, urging him along.
“What are you two little ladies doing all the way out here?”
Jessica opened her mouth to answer, but Judith said, “That’s our business,” and it was enough to get him to do what he was supposed to.
As they took the plastic bag from him, Jessica gave him one hard look and asked, “What would you say it means to be a woman?”
“Not now,” Judith snapped, grabbing Jessica’s wrist, and pulling her away.
“Ouch! What are you—” Then she looked through the windows at the van, saw Jesus, saw the large men shouting at him, and sprinted after Judith through the doors.
A man in thick, stiff blue jeans and a T-shirt with the sleeves cut off punched Jesus squarely in the face, snapping his head back as he only just kept his feet under him. Jessica lifted her hands without even thinking about it, focusing all her shock and adrenaline squarely on the perpetrator who’d just decked her brother.
She felt the ball of heat in her core as it built, swirling out into her shoulders, down her arms—
“Are you out of your mind?” Judith pushed Jessica’s hands down toward the ground. “There are fucking gas tanks beneath our feet!”
Jesus took another punch to the stomach and fell to the ground, and when the two men heard Judith shout and looked up to see the two women sprinting toward them, they seemed satisfied and split, the tires of their old Jeep squealing as it darted out into the street.
“Jesus!” Jessica said, helping him off the ground. “What happened?”
Jesus coughed as he stood. “I do … not know. They called me a pretty boy, which I thought was very nice.”
Judith groaned.
“And then when I told them, ‘Bless you for that, my brethren,’ and told them I thought they were beautiful creations as well, they called me a … a faggot. I believe that is perhaps where it began.”
“No,” Judith said, “it began before that.”
Jesus looked confused. “Faggot means homosexual, right?”
Jessica dusted off debris from the seat of his pants. “Yep.”
“And … they do not like that.”
“That seems like a decent guess,” Judith said.
“I don’t understand. Jeremy is my best friend and he is a homosexual. How could anyone not like Jeremy?”
Jessica could name five reasons off the top of her head without trying all that hard, none of which had to do with the man’s sexual preferences, but that seemed beside the point.
“Let’s get in the van,” Judith said, “and Jessica will explain it all to you.”
Chapter Seventeen
“Look who it is! The J-crew. Come on in!” Chris Riley grinned at them, stepping to the side and holding open the door to his Philadelphia condo.
While the new nickname wasn’t exactly an instant favorite of hers, his face was a sight for sore eyes after so many months without.
Jessica, Jesus, and Judith entered his home. For her part, Jessica was both surprised and not by his decor. If she hadn’t known Chris so well, she might have expected something a little flashier from this pro-football star, something that instantly
reflected his recent ascension to wealth—ice sculptures or colorful inset lighting in strange places or a giant fish tank. But his approach to nouveau riche was so very Chris.
Hardly an inch of wall space wasn’t covered with football memorabilia from his heroes. Her eyes landed on a signed Troy Aikman helmet under glass and two signed Deion Sanders jerseys from different teams. Maybe someone ought to remind Chris he was an Eagle now.
The place wasn’t exactly tidy, but at least it didn’t stink. She remembered his dorm room had always held a faint sour tinge, and now she realized she had been expecting that. Maybe the air circulation was better in this place, and perhaps Chris had changed a few of his habits. But it was probably the air circulation thing.
“Christopher, my brother, how are you?” Jesus held out a hand to receive his host.
Chris took Jesus’s hand to shake, then made a quick escape when he realized this wasn’t so much a shake as a hand-holding experiment with strong eye contact. “I’m doing great. I’m glad y’all are here.”
Jessica forced a tired grin. “Thanks so much for letting us crash a night.”
“Of course.” He wandered to the kitchen and dug through the fridge. “Drinks?”
Once that was settled, they congregated around the kitchen island with drinks in hand.
“You know they call this ‘pop’ up here,” Jesus said cheerily. “It makes sense! It pops and fizzes! I ordered a coke and they poured me the wrong thing.”
Jessica’s eyes found Chris’s without meaning to, and the two of them grinned.
“How was church?” Chris asked. “That’s what you’re doing, right? Checking out church services?”
“And asking people what it means to be a woman.” Jessica sighed. “It was okay.”
Judith shook her head adamantly. “Uh, no. It was not okay. I couldn’t follow the sermon at all. It’s all fucking sports analogies here. The reverend had some extended metaphor about baseball that went right off the rails.”
“I was described as the third-base coach!” Jesus said. “I waaaaved people through”—he spun his arm like a pinwheel—“or told them to stop and not advance.” He held up his palm and put on his best stern face. Then he laughed. “I do not know what any of that means.”
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