An Interview - 8. A stunned silence falls over the room

Chapter eight: A stunned silence falls over the room

A stunned silence falls over the room. I am in shock from the outpouring of grief and distress. And I am in a state of alarm at the words God finished with. It makes me feel like turning my back on all of this. The belief that this is an elaborate hoax is gone from my mind. Everything has been too real, too detailed for this to be fake. I pull my gaze away from the closed door of my bedroom and look to the angels. I can only imagine they are like a reflection of my own expression, eyes wide, concern evident.

            'Is he going to be all right?' I manage eventually.

            I see Michael and Gabriel throw each other a concerned glance, before Gabriel sets down my book, reaches over to my phone to stop the recording and stands. 'He will be okay, we just need a break.'

            Raphael silently crosses the room, setting a tray of glasses with a jug of clear liquid on the coffee table before easing the bedroom door open and slipping in after God. Gabriel sits heavily on the couch next to Michael, looking deflated, and for the first time completely dropping the look of disgust in the state of my apartment from her expression.

            'Was this how he was with Noah?' I ask. 'Before he sent the floods?'

            'It's pretty close,' Gabriel admitted.

            'No, it's different, worse,' Michael said, finally breaking his long silence. His voice is more gruff than ever. 'He was upset then, but angry. This feels like resignation, despair.'

            My concern grows and I can almost feel the colour draining from my face. While I am not a religious person and have never been overly interested in God or the Church, I find it hard to fathom a world without a God.

            Michael must have noticed the pale colour of my face, because he quickly leans forward and pours me a glass of water, handing it to me. He then pours himself and Gabriel a glass. I sip at mine and am calmed by the cool, tingling sensation of the brew, though it does not completely alleviate my anxiety.

            'Will he come back and finish the interview?' I ask.

            'I honestly don't know,' Gabriel answers.

            'What would that mean for us? For humanity that is?' I ask. ‘We’re not talking Armageddon are we? The four riders of the apocalypse being unleashed and the Day of Reckoning and all that?’

            Michael and Gabriel share another of their looks which causes my chest to tighten once more. 'Again, I really don't know,' Gabriel admits eventually.

            'But it isn't likely to be great,' Michael adds.

            We sit in silence for some time. All the information I have taken in is rolling around in my head like the barrel of a concrete truck, weighing heavily on me. I sip at my drink and it revitalizes me somewhat. I try to tell myself again that none of this can be real; that it is a dream or prank, but my mind struggles to accept this argument.

            Finally, the silence is broken by the opening of my bedroom door. Raphael emerges, followed by God who looks sombre but is no longer crying. His mouth is as hard as steel though and I am not sure that he is going to continue.

            Raphael makes eye contact with me and for the first time there is no smile. God turns to me and takes my hand gently in his. His skin is soft and hard, his grip firm but gentle all at once and it sends tingles of energy racing up my arm. 'I am sorry for the abrupt interruption to the interview, but I am going to have to end it there. I hope you have enough material to finish your article.' He starts to turn away but I keep hold of his hand. I feel as though if I let it go, the world will come to an end. John Holmes is again perched on my shoulder, telling me that I cannot let this interview end like this. This time I whole-heartedly agree with him.

            'No!' I blurt out, immediately feeling the heat of his intense gaze as he turns back to me. 'I mean, we can't end it there, on that note. Would you let the Devil win?'

            God's eyes scrutinize me and it is all I can do not to lower my gaze and drop to my knees before him. I am trembling visibly, but I fight to hold my feet. 'Like I said, the Devil is not real.'

            'But he is!' I blurt again. 'He's as real as you are and he's in the room now, looking on and rubbing his hands with glee, thinking about everything he will inherit if you walk out that door. Please, finish the interview. Give us a chance.'

            He shakes his head. ‘I cannot. There is no point in doing so. Nothing will change.’

            ‘But it can,’ I plead, still clinging to his hand. ‘Humanity has good left in it, I am certain.’

            God stares at me for a while longer then eventually nods. 'Very well. I will give you a little longer.'

Having gained his promise, I release his hand and he moves over to the couch, where Gabriel rises to make way for him, no objection about the interview continuing this time. I look at my phone and read the time, then check it again. I can scarcely believe it is 3:46 in the afternoon already. It feels like very little time has passed since they first arrived.

All eyes are on me now, with Gabriel abandoning her reading and Raphael leaving the kitchen unattended. I feel as if the weight of the world rests on my shoulders and I have to concentrate hard to stay focused. I press the record button again and sit down to face God. I take a deep breath to collect my thoughts and choose my words carefully.

            'It appears to me that you are going through a crisis in faith with humankind. Humans have done, and continue to do some horrible acts in your name. The Twin Towers are probably an obvious recent example, but it is one of many. But this is not a new trend; history is full of these examples; the Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition to name a couple. What exactly has shaken your faith so profoundly in recent times that you are considering turning your back on us?'

            God does not answer immediately. I can see the pain in his eyes, the effort to stave off more tears. 'I explained earlier that the Devil is the human ego. Well, the presence of the devil has been growing at a frightening rate in recent years, and human faith has been falling almost as quickly. Society is becoming increasingly self focused. Family units are not as strong as they once were, as sons and daughters move away from the people and places they grew up with. Bonds of friendship weaken as people spend less time face to face and more time behind one screen or another. People are working harder, putting careers, the ideal house and other material things ahead of their families and their own happiness.’

As he speaks, his eyes drift upwards, almost as if he is talking not just to me, but to the universe, or to another, even higher authority. Though he has not physically changed, no longer does he appear human to me, but something well beyond. His voice takes on an otherworldly quality that sends shivers through my spine and blocks out all other sounds. Light seems to seep from his limbs, subtle but blinding all at once. For me, everything else seems to drop away; my unit, the angels, the city are gone, his words consume me. The emotion in his eyes fills me with despair and guilt, and I am blinded from the light emanating from him. I am enslaved to his words and all I can do is listen.

‘Though the population of the world continues to expand and cities are becoming more crowded than ever before, humans are actually further away from each other than ever, isolated among billions. The media focuses incessantly on image, feeding the human ego, sowing seeds of doubt and making people become more and more obsessed with self. Super models and professional athletes set impossible standards of body image that is portrayed as normal. Online communities can be great for sharing challenges, but at the moment they are more geared towards showing off. The focus on “me” and “I” have attained prevalence over “us” and “we”. Plastic surgery, cosmetics and fashion all continue to grow at an alarming pace, fed by people’s egos and growing insecurities.’

He pauses at last and suddenly his eyes are back on me and he is human once more. When he speaks again his voice is normal, though filled with helplessness and despair. ‘I can't help people that are so constantly inward focused. The work I do is not being seen because no one is looking. The only thing they associate with me and the church are the evil things – the sexual abuse, the extremists, the discriminations against homosexuality. Fear, anger, jealousy and violence.'

            God falls silent, as does the room once more. I am raw from the intensity of his speech, not sure if I can speak even if I had words to say. I find it impossible to refute claims, to frame a defence against such a tirade of offenses. But I know I must try, must find some way, because I fear the consequence of not challenging him. I think about the precious few stories I know from the Bible, parables that convey a message in the telling. I take some inspiration from them, and reach into my pocket. I pull out a coin and hold it up for all to see.

            'A betting man named Jack walks into a bar, looking for a wager. Jimmy, a man drinking in the bar calls him over, taking out a coin like this one. “How’s about a simple wager?” Jimmy says. “This coin has two sides; a head and a kangaroo. Heads or Tails. I'll flip the coin, you call a side. If your side lands face up, you win. If not, I win.”

            'Jack agrees to the terms and calls Tails on the first toss. The coin lands with Heads face up and Jack hands over the money. They toss again, and Jack calls Tails once more. The coin lands with Heads face up and with a frown, Jack hands over more money. “It can't land on heads again,” Jack states with confidence and on the third toss he calls Tails once more. Again, Heads lands face up and Jimmy wins the bet.

            'By this time Jack is getting seriously annoyed, but he stubbornly calls for a fourth toss and again calls Tails. For the fourth time the coin lands with heads face up.

            '”Cheat!” Jack cries out in rage. “You swapped the coin for a two headed version!” He lunges forward and snatches the coin off the ground before Jimmy can stop him. But when he inspects the coin, he finds that there is nothing wrong with it, that it has a head on one side and a kangaroo on the other.

            '”It must be rigged or something!” he declares, and he flips the coin three times himself, coming up with a Tails, a Heads and a Tails. Jimmy watches on in bemusement. Eventually, Jack slaps the coin down on the bar, along with the money he lost from the final bet, and stalks from the bar grumbling to himself.'

            When I pause, God interjects. 'So what is the point to this story? How is the wager you've described relevant to what we have been discussing?'

            I hold up the coin to them again, so that they can only see the side with the heads. 'The coin landed on heads four times in a row, causing Jack to doubt whether the tails side existed at all. But when he looked closer he realised it was there all along, just not visible.’ I point to God, ‘When you look at humanity at the moment, all you see is heads. All the nasty stuff, the greed, the fear, the selfishness. Media has a big part in this, as they choose to air the bad stuff, the murders, the rapes, the wars. But it doesn’t mean that the tails have disappeared. Goodness remains. If you stop betting on us now, we may never find it again. But if you stay in the game then we can turn it around and come up Tails.' I place the coin down on the table, the kangaroo facing up.

            God looks at the coin thoughtfully. Behind him, Raphael has the slightest of smiles on his lips, while Gabriel looks at me with one eyebrow raised, seemingly impressed with my story. I try and keep a smile from my face, pleased with the parable I have constructed, confident I have done enough to change his mind about humanity.