What Do You Miss?
The Elysian Fields Retirement Home is a large, slightly run-down three-story building with a wide verandah overlooking the sea. Set out along the verandah are several lounge chairs, and seated in them are eight old men and two old women dressed in bedroom slippers and white terry-cloth robes. In front of the chairs is a long, low table set with glasses and goblets, and small bowls containing various snacks.
One of the old women takes a sip from her goblet and makes a face. “The nectar’s a bit sour today,” she says.
“You’re right, Athena, and the ambrosia’s stale,” says one of the old men.
“Judge not, that ye be not judged,” says a second old man.
“Oh, shut up, Jesus,” says a third old man.
“Yes, be quiet,” says a second old woman. “You’re so preachy. It’s tedious.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Jesus says. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“You’re not the boss of anyone,” says a third old man glumly. He is bright blue. “None of us are, damn it!”
The second old woman says, “Don’t curse, Vishnu. You know curses don’t work any more.” She’s black, except for her eyes, which are blood-red.
The fourth old man, who looks a little like Santa Claus, with his bushy white beard and hair, gets up and lets out a roar of frustration.
“This isn’t the way I planned things! Satan, you messed up my Creation!”
“Come on, Yahweh, I didn’t mess up anything!” says the sixth old man. He has a goatee, and a pair of small horns on his head. “The humans decided they didn’t need us any more, and they bundled us off to this place to die.”
“But we can’t die!” Athena says. “We’re immortal, you old fool!”
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting.” Satan grunts with disgust. “That only makes things worse.”
“Plus, they ripped off our stuff,” grumbles Athena. “They got my shield and turned it into the logo of some health insurance company.”
“My lightning bolts got co-opted by one of their nasty political factions,” Yahweh says, sitting back down. “They’re tainted now, and I don’t want them back. But I don ‘t have any new ones.”
A pall of gloom descends on the group. Finally Jesus asks, “What do you miss most, Athena?”
“My owl. Without her I feel stupid.”
“I miss my flying palace,” says Vishnu. “I loved fighting demons from the comfort of my own home.”
“Your fights were all rigged, you blue-assed booby!” Satan snarls. “Yahweh always made sure the fix was in!”
“Who are you to complain about double-dealing, Father of Lies?” shouts Jesus. “Get thee behind me, Satan!”
“I’ll get behind you, all right,” Satan shouts back, “And I’ll kick you right in your sanctimonious ass!”
The two geezers stand up, and for a moment it looks as if they might start fighting. But Athena steps between them “Stop behaving like humans, both of you! Show a little class!” she says.
Satan takes a deep breath and lets it out. “You’re right, Pallas,” he says. “We’re deities, after all.”
He turns to Jesus. “Sorry about that, J. C. Let’s not dredge up old grudges.” He extends his hand, and Jesus takes it. They shake.
“Friends?” Satan asks.
“Oh, why not?” says Jesus. “Tell you the truth, I’ve forgotten why we got mad at each other to begin with.”
“Me, too. Something to do with original sin, I think. But I really don’t remember the details.”
“None of us is getting any younger,” says the eighth old man. He wears the same terry-cloth bathrobe as the others, but on his head is a white turban. “We’re all getting forgetful. I can remember the name of my own Prophet. Mack, or Murphy, or something.”
“It was Mohammad,” Athena says.
“Oh, right,” says Allah. “Choosing him was the biggest mistake I ever made. He started all kinds of wars among the humans, and they blamed the death and destruction on me. I told that idiot Mohammad over and over again, “Look, Islam means submission, not ass-kicking! But he didn’t listen.”
“Well, no use crying over spilt blood,” says Satan. “What do you miss most?”
“Oh, the houris, no question, “Allah says. “Great gals. They sure knew how to make a god happy. What do you miss?”
“Leading humans into temptation,” Satan replies. “But it got too easy, after awhile, because most of them didn’t need to be led.”
The others chuckle. “You got that right, Old Nick,” says Yahweh. “And what I miss is punishing them for their disobedience. I loved smiting. There was nothing like whipping up a flood or a pestilence or a rain of frogs to get me going in the morning. How about you, Son?”
“I miss fishing,” Jesus says. “And light carpentry. Walking on water was fun, too.”
There is another silence. Athena breaks it. “The humans seem determined to destroy their world and every creature that lives on it.” Her voice is resigned, rather than angry.
“Oh, they can’t do that,” says Yahweh. “Even if they use their nukes, some critters will survive. Cockroaches, for example. And ants. Ants have a group mind, and it’s pretty smart. Smarter than the human mind, anyway. I mean, when ants go to war with each other they don’t destroy one anothers’ nests, they just take them over.”
“So intelligent ants will rule the world?” Kali asks.
“We should stop talking about ruling the world,” Jesus says. “The other animals, the birds, and the fishes co-existed with one another long before humans showed up, and they’ll go on co-existing harmoniously long after humans are gone.”
“And we haven’t even mentioned trees,” says Athena. “Groves of oak trees communicate through their roots. With no people around to cut them down, they’ll proliferate, and their communication might evolve into language. They’ll become self-aware, intelligent, even wise.”
“A world of wise trees,” Vishnu says. “I like it.”
“Beautiful, blessedly quiet, and peaceful,” says Jesus. “Sounds good to me. Athena, if you don’t want the rest of your nectar, I’ll take it. I thirst, and it can’t be as bitter as the vinegar the Romans gave me.”
“Help yourself,” the Goddess of Wisdom says.
