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Andrew Roller Presents
JUPITER RISING
Chapter Eighteen
Fireballs came flaming down from the sky. The angelic hosts hurled
them at us as they advanced. The balls of flame came crashing down into
the canopy of trees above us, rousting the pretty songbirds that Lisa loved
so much to hear, setting the leaves and branches aflame. For a moment it
was like being under a Fourth of July display; we sat dumbfounded in the
back yard of Hearst castle, by the fountain with the Perrier water, on
chairs of bright gold padded with Indian silks.
When the treehouse went, I realized the whole thing wasnÕt just
some grand meteor shower.
ÒMy play house!Ó Lisa cried, watching in terror as the peppermint
fort weÕd so lovingly built came crashing down onto our perfect Japanese
lawn. (Admittedly, I called it a fort, she called it a play house. I made
sure it had an armory of squirt guns; Lisa stocked it with plates and
dishes.)
ÒIf God is going to mess with me, IÕll crush his ass!Ó I said in a
sudden flash of anger. I rose from my golden chair. It wasnÕt a throne;
that was inside, this was just a lounge chair for leisure. I had reason for
my confidence, despite the rain of fire coming down on our heads. My
physical development had not slowed during the summer. When my rule
began, I looked like a well-built guy who might play guitar on MTV. Now I
was a hulking behemoth. Thanks to nothing but indolence on my part, my
chest was now twin slabs of meat, seemingly as big as the chest muscles
on a bull. My arms were swaggering hulks, Òmeathooks with handsÓ
Hephaestus jokingly called them. My legs were strong as an Olympic
runners, and I had one other thing going for me as well.
I could fly. I leapt up into the air. How dare the Lord invade my
realm, the high-piled clouds and the broad bright sky? Rising quickly up
through the hailstorm of fireballs, I drew in my breath. A moment later
there was a clap of thunder as I hurled lighting up at the legions of angels.
It was a long, hard-fought battle. I was a powerful fighter but the
angels just kept coming, like ants attacking a giant. When at last I came
back down to earth Hearst castle was a ruin. I found Lisa under some
trees near the beach with Hephaestus. She was crying. Her entire stuffed
animal collection, which weÕd so lovingly put together visiting toy stores
over the summer, had gone up in flames.
ÒJust like Pawsly!Ó LIsa bawled, remembering her long-lost lion that
got stolen with my Yugo.
ÒGod damn him!Ó I shouted, and my voice seemed to echo up and down
the beach, there under that smoke-filled sky. Bits of angels were strewn
all along the sugar-sand shoreline. They gleamed like dull gold, foolÕs
gold, and I picked up a broken harp that an angel had carried into battle and
tossed it into the soda pop sea. ÒWhy canÕt he accept that I rule here
now?Ó I said, turning my wrath, it seemed, on Hephaestus as my gleaming
eyes met his. ÒWe lived and died under His dour rein, and what did it get
us? Laws, rules, jails, and prisons! Terms like sex offender and predator
and child molester and rapist. Now everyone is free to do as they please.
Men can love girls, and girls can love men, or men can love men... I donÕt
judge how people live their lives, as long as theyÕre friendly.Ó Hephaestus
nodded gravely.
ÒHe attacks because He has the power to attack,Ó Hephaestus said.
ÒI will defeat Him!Ó I cried. I lifted my head toward heaven and then
my fist, and shook it. ÒGod damn you, I will defeat you!Ó I shouted. But it
was as if no one heard, my voice rolling along the shore, like the incoming
waves, nothing but silence and LisaÕs weeping to answer me. At least for
now, God had given up.
The next morning Lisa and I were roused from bed in the Monterey
Hilton, amidst a newly acquired pile of stuffed animals. Quickly I threw
on a purple robe.
ÒGet under the bed!Ó I ordered Lisa, as a fireball went streaking past
our picture window.
ÒI donÕt want my new stuffed aminals burnt up too!Ó Lisa wailed,
mangling the word ÒanimalÓ as she was wont to do, when excited or, in
this case, afraid.
ÒDonÕt worry. IÕll deal with God,Ó I told Lisa. I rushed to the window
and yanked it open. I pushed out the screen and a moment later I was
airborne, advancing on the angelic hosts. I was furious at this new attack,
moreso than IÕd ever been before. I resolved to vent my anger so
thoroughly on this dickhead God who wouldnÕt leave me to my realm that
heÕd never think of returning.
And thatÕs when the final stage of my development kicked in. To my
utter surprise, both my hands were now capable of hurling lightning. When
I took on an entire battalion of angels, mauling my way through them, I
felt as if the very air around me was about to crack; the earth below
trembled. Storm clouds accompanied me now, gathering with my
increasing wrath and exploding upon the angels with tremendous fury. And
cyclones were whipped up by the very motions of my hands and feet; first
to my astonishment, then by my will, and finally whether I wanted them to
or not.
ÒStop! Stop!Ó I heard coming from below me some hours later. I
looked down at Monterey and was aghast. It looked as if World War Three
had broken out below me. The ocean was roiling; the earth was a sea of
broken chunks of ground, the buildings were all toppled and jumbled to
ruins. Lighting seared even now from my hands and feet, fire burst
dragon-like from my mouth when I tried to call down to whoever was
seeking me from below.
Ever since the handcuffs had been put on me back in Los Angeles, I
had worn them. Hephaestus had broken them apart, of course, but I had
never removed them, as a reminder to myself of the foulness of the world
IÕd been born into and of how a man like myself, who was open-minded and
loving enough to have a relationship with a little girl, an 8-year-old girl,
might be treated. Since then my growing physique had strained the
handcuffs, so that they seemed to cling to me for dear life, their metal all
stretched and warped. Suddenly now they broke apart, no longer able to
withstand the strain. I gasped as I watched them spiral down toward
earth. And then a moment later, as if on cue, my head broke apart.
ÒMy God! WhatÕs happening to you?Ó Hephaestus yelled up into the
storm-darkened sky. Bits of the man heÕd worshipped as a God rained
down on him. A whirlwind leapt from inside of the GodÕs split-open skull.
Hephaestus looked at Lisa; she was remarkably calm, smiling with a kind
of resigned self-assurance. ÒWe must stop him!Ó Hephaestus screamed at
her.
ÒThere is no way to stop him,Ó Lisa answered. Tears speckled her
cheeks. They were partly tears of sadness; but of happiness too.
ÒThe angels are long since fled and defeated,Ó Hephaestus told Lisa.
ÒHe must come down now!Ó Hephaestus raised an arm; warding off a chunk
of his God that came searing down and nearly hit him.
ÒHe can no longer come down from the sky,Ó Lisa replied to
Hephaestus. The old man, burnisher of the lightning which filled the fist
of Zeus, advanced on the little girl. He bent over and pressed his face
close to hers. He grabbed her. He shook Lisa but she seemed to take it
with a kind of eerie equanimity. ÒI spent years on the streets before I
became a God, and something tells me you know more than youÕre letting
on!Ó Hephaestus barked at Lisa. ÒWhat is it? Tell me so I can stop him,
before he kills us all and destroys the earth!Ó
ÒIt is his reign,Ó Lisa said calmly. Her eyes welled with tears.
Never again would she share the same bed with the man she loved as God;
never more would she feel His powerful muscled body beside her, or inside
her. Nevermore would He sleep with His arms wrapped around her soft
figure. Hephaestus looked up again at the sky, shielding his eyes from a
hot glow erupting volcanic-like from the head of the God above him. He
glared at the God.
ÒStop! Come down!Ó Hephaestus cried. ÒCome down, Zeus!Ó
ÒHe isnÕt Zeus,Ó Lisa said. Calmly she took HephaestusÕ arm. ÒFor
centuries the Gods slept, the old Gods, vanquished by the Lord, by the one
who calls himself Lord and Jesus and Mohammed and Buddha and so many
other modern names. But sometimes,Ó Lisa smiled. ÒSometimes in a long
enough period of sleeping, a small God, a little God, might arise. A little
nymph.Ó Lisa giggled, amidst all the carnage flaming down from the sky,
which threatened to hit her or Hephaestus.
ÒYou!Ó Hephaestus cried, turning his angry eyes from the God above
him back to the little girl.
ÒYes,Ó Lisa answered. ÒBut I never was here to give birth to a reign
of Zeus. I donÕt represent Zeus. I represent Chaos.Ó
ÒChaos!Ó Hephaestus cried. He jerked his head back up toward the
God above them, all flame and thunder and fury. The sky itself seemed
about to burst now, and the earth, riven by endless trembling, seemed bent
on being sucked upward into an encroaching night.
ÒYes!Ó Lisa screamed, lifting her hands high, suddenly gleeful, in a
way only an eight-year-old child could be at a rampage of impending
destruction. ÒThis is the birth of the oldest God, the original God! Chaos!Ó
ÒIt is the end of the world!Ó Hephaestus cried, terror-stricken now,
for in the time of Chaos there was no earth or heaven, all was intermixed
and flaming and boundless.
ÒYipppeeee!Ó Lisa cried. She went running off down toward the
ocean, to await in the tumultuous surf the tidal wave that was surely
brewing just beyond the horizon. Hephaestus threw himself down on his
face on the burnt white sugar beach.
ÒGod! Spare us!Ó Hephaestus yelled. And he did not mean Chaos, for
who would pray to a God who was ending the world? He prayed to the only
God left, the God who had let him be a bum but who had also provided
sunsets, and rolling waves, and glorious springtime flowers and puffy
clouds in the sky. ÒDear God Almighty, Lord Jesus, save us!Ó Hephaestus
cried. At the same time people all over the world prayed to their
traditional Gods, the modern Gods, desperate for salvation from the terror
raining down on them. Even Pluto, far below in the deep trembling earth,
and Neptune in the sea, and Apollo somewhere on the ruined landscape,
prayed now for salvation from the only God left, the God of Eric
Teetlebaum.
30
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