Feeling a twisted knot in his stomach, Paul walks through the almost-empty park toward the zip line’s launching platform. The visitors have left already, and except for a few operators and guards, no living soul breathes the evening air of Eden Adventure Park. Paul has never had to stay so late in the park. It has a frightening ambience of a ghost city. Today just doesn’t feel quite right. The churn in his gut warns him that something is brewing behind his back.
While still walking, Paul looks over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”, he asks Jesus, trying to hide his suspicions behind one of his charming smiles. “Why us? We run the Messiah Show now.”
Following him a few yards behind, Jesus replies, “Morgan’s direct order. He wants pros on it.”
Paul stops and pivots to face Jesus.
Jesus stops too, but averting his gaze, he stares at the ground. “He doesn’t want to leave the inspectors any excuses.” This is the fourth time today that Jesus has avoided eye contact with Paul. It is as if he’s afraid that Paul might be able to read his eyes.
Something is just not right today.
Somehow, Paul finds it hard to believe his best friend. And yet he’s got to. If one cannot believe in Jesus, then there is nothing left in this world to trust. Jesus is the last good thing in this life that Paul would blindly bet his life on. Stop being a cynical baby, Paul tells himself and heads back to the zip line. Two steps in, and the insistent doubts come rushing back. Paul stops and turns to Jesus again.
Jesus stops too, maintaining his few-yard distance from Paul. Taking out his cell phone, he pretends to check his messages. This would be the fifth time today that he doesn’t look Paul in the eye.
“Why now?” Paul asks. “The park’s almost empty. Didn’t Omar and Nathan already do a full check on the cables just two or three weeks ago?”
“I just told you,” Jesus responds dismissively, his gaze on his cell phone. “Morgan doesn’t trust Omar. Well, nobody does. He wants pros on it.” Jesus resumes walking as if he considers the discussion over.
“Yeah, but why now?” Paul asks.
“I just told you,” Jesus says with frustration while passing by Paul. “Inspectors will come tomorrow, early morning. It’s supposed to be a surprise visit.”
Paul sighs. “When did you tell me that?” he mutters instead of yelling—which he should. On some level, he knows Jesus’ answer would be ‘I just told you that.’
Jesus walks up the stairs leading to the zip line platform.
Something is off today with Jesus, today. Way off.
Paul should turn back now. There is a limit on how far he would follow Jesus merely on faith. If he leaves now, he will be back in town in time for his date with that e-cup Arab chick. He’d make up some excuse for Morgan tomorrow. Yeah, I should leave. I’m leaving now. I’m walking away, Paul thinks, standing still.
His feet refuse to comply, likely confused by the conflicting signals from his mind and his heart. Paul cannot leave Jesus alone. Especially now that Jesus obviously is not well. What if something happens to him and he needs the support of his right hand? Paul would always pick Jesus before any Arab chick, no matter how sexy she is. Bros before hoes. Girls come and go all the time, but friendship is a bond that will last for eternity.
With his heart gradually winning the battle against the trickery of his mind, Paul climbs the stairs, first with tentative steps and then with determined ones. If they are going to go through this after-hours cable inspection, it is better to get done with it before the sun sets and takes away the daylight with it.
Jesus has already put on the zip line harness. Facing the shelves and away from Paul, he tightens the straps. Why with so much secrecy?! It’s just a harness, not a Batman suit instrumented with hidden weapons. He must be trying to avoid eye contact with Paul again. This would be the sixth time today. Sigh!
Paul also reluctantly dons the harness and tightens the straps. He then picks up the special zip line gloves from the drawer. The operators use those to control the speed using their hands. The palm of the glove is made of thick molded leather, and once pressed against the cable, the friction slows down the speed. While putting the gloves on, Paul turns to Jesus.
Jesus is already waiting for Paul, his arms crossed and his eyebrows drawn together. As he wrinkles his nose, he looks away. This would be the seventh time, today.
“You didn’t go first?!” Paul asks Jesus, hit by a fresh wave of suspicious thoughts.
“You’re the heavy one.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Paul says and gets behind the launch gate.
As they devour the final rays of sunlight, the ruthless, black clouds on the horizon make their way toward the adventure park. Paul knows he shouldn’t but he swings his legs over the gate, lifting one leg at a time. Standing at the edge, he feels a force from behind pushing him off the platform. In a moment of paranoia, he thinks it might have been Jesus. However, he quickly feels ashamed when he realizes that it was just a gust of wind. Regardless, he has to be careful. The valley looks deeper than ever, like an endless abyss. Paul has watched it a thousand times before, but it had never scared him, not this much.
Jesus gives him a shove forward.
“Eek!” Paul lets out a brief shriek and clutches the rail on the gate.
“Chop chop,” Jesus says from behind.
With his knees shaking and his heart racing, Paul slowly turns back and takes a last look at Jesus.
This time Jesus looks Paul directly in the eye—Paul wishes he didn’t. With an inexplicable hatred burning in his eyes, Jesus shoots angry glares at Paul.
Paul is now more frightened of Jesus than of the valley. He offers a smile.
Jesus doesn’t return one.
Paul gulps nervously, turns to the valley, and mounts his pulley on the zip line. While attaching the safety rope, from the corner of his eye, he peeks at Jesus.
Jesus picks up something from the shelf and hides it in his vest pocket.
Paul grabs the cable with his gloved hands, lifts his feet, loosens his grip on the cable, and slowly moves forward. “Are you coming?” he asks and gets no response. After a few seconds, he tries again, “Are you—”
BAM! With his boot heels, Jesus strikes Paul’s lower back, pushing him down the zip line.
“JESUS!” Paul screams in fear and tightens his grip on the cable to regain control of the speed. Sparks are thrown from the friction of the glove against the cable. He lets out his breath when he finally manages to come to a full stop. He can hear nothing but his heart pounding and his lungs panting. He slowly turns back to Jesus, looking for a legit explanation.
“Oops,” Jesus says blankly and shrugs, hanging from the zip line a few yards behind.
Paul swallows hard, feeling a lump in his throat. The terror that has coursed through his veins now takes root deep within his bones. “OK. Mistakes happen, I guess. But let’s exercise extra caution hereafter. Alright?” he asks, hoping that the formality of his request gets through to Jesus.
“Sure,” Jesus responds with a non-reassuring tone.
Paul turns back from Jesus. The way the black clouds rush over, soon they will attack the adventure park. Paul shouldn’t have agreed to this inspection in the first place, but it’s too late now. From now on, the only way out is down the 2.6-mile zip line. Paul takes a deep breath. “OK, we can do this,” he says with a trembling voice, lowers the glove pressure on the cable, and slides forward.
Ahead of him, the raging, black clouds are not far away. Below him, the valley seems deeper than ever. And worst of all, a few feet behind him, is Jesus, who acts crazy today. To distract himself from the fearsome situation that is closing in on him from all directions, he tries to open up a conversation with Jesus. It would lighten up the mood as well, hopefully helping Jesus to let go of his tense demeanor.
“The Messiah Show is doing great, isn’t it?” Paul says, slowly sliding forward. “I was thinking about this good deed thing. It’s really cool. I think it’s really something. It has many layers and dimensions, and…and facets. I have some ideas to expand on it even more, maybe at least for six or seven episodes. And here’s one. The visitors would love it. Ready?” Paul doesn’t hear back from Jesus, but he continues regardless. “OK, here it is: we could make a detailed list of good and bad deeds and share it with the visitors. Ta-da. Brilliant, isn’t it? Something like Catechism, but better. Last night, just last night, a Swedish chick asked me about this. Oh, bro, what a girl, and what a smoking body. I liked her face too—”
BAM! A sudden force slams into him from behind.
“Fuck!” Paul yells, jolted from the impact. Racing down the zip line, he gains more and more speed. He clutches the cable as hard as he can. Sparks are tossed from the grinding of the glove against the cable. The excessive heat leaks through the leather glove and burns his skin. “Fu-u-uck,” he growls. Despite the burning sensation, he maintains the pressure on the cable until he finally comes to a full stop.
Taking labored breaths, he tries to regain his composure and figure out what just happened. Was it Jesus? It cannot be. He can’t be that reckless. Paul hears Jesus’ pulley approaching from behind, the rotating sound growing louder and louder. “Are you alright?” Paul asks. “What happened?” Instead of a reply, Paul hears a familiar yet strange sound from right behind him. He turns, still breathing heavily.
Jesus is opening Paul’s safety straps!
“What the hell are you doing?” Paul yells, letting go of the cable to throw a punch. Before it reaches Jesus, the last strap snaps open, and he plummets, screaming, “No-o-o-o.”
Paul’s free fall stops after two yards, thanks to the safety rope. There is a reason that operators always use that.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Paul shouts at Jesus while swinging back and forth on the rope.
THUNDER ROARS. And Jesus roars with it, screaming his rage out. Wrinkling his nose and showing his teeth, he looks like a black panther who is about to tear his prey apart. He takes a knife out of his vest pocket.
This was all planned, Paul figures. Jesus must be mad about something—God knows what. Anyway, tough talk is not helping Paul here. He has to use his charm to bring Jesus back to his senses. “For God’s sake, Jesus. Look at me. This is me. Paul. Your right hand. People call me the frontrunner of good-doers.”
Ignoring Paul’s plea, Jesus starts cutting the safety rope.
Paul is running out of time. With his heart racing at its peak, he begs, “No, bro. I’d die. That’s murder. Listen to me. Is that what Jesus would do? Is killing a good deed?”
“Sure, it is,” Jesus says through clenched teeth without looking at Paul. He keeps cutting the safety rope. “You just need to find the right piece of shit that you’d take joy in flushing down to Hell.”
Tears flowing down his face, Paul cries, “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, bro.”
Some threads on the rope snap, making a popping sound.
Facing his inevitable death, Paul breaks down in tears and wails uncontrollably. “Where is forgiveness now? Where is your mercy now? God, save me from Your Jesus.”
Paul is looking down at the ominous depths of the valley, when a rope from the sky appears before his face. He snatches God’s rope and clutches it with all his strength. With his teeth chattering, Paul begins to wonder where the rope comes from.
Raindrops land on Paul’s hand. And another. And another. A faint sob from above reaches Paul’s ears, prompting him to ponder whether those were tears or rain. With disbelief, he summons the courage to look up at the sky. The Deus ex Machina is nothing but Jesus, his raging tempest now transformed into torrents of sorrow. As if harmonizing with Jesus’ symphony of grief, the black clouds unleash their rain, and all at once.
Jesus’ knife rests on the landing platform’s ground, next to the safety rope that it almost cut through. Sitting close to the knife, Paul hugs his knees and shivers, either because of the near-death experience or because the setting sun is denying warmth from his undeserving, drenched body.
With no rain left to shed, the black clouds’ brief takeover of the sky has come to an end, unveiling a sun that no longer graces Eden with her light. Eden, the damned birthplace of hypocrisy and egotism; the adventure park that nurtures nothing but self-seeking players like Paul; the doomed cradle that takes in innocent souls like Jesus and rocks them to the edge of madness.
Perched at the ledge, Jesus sits with his legs dangling over the cliff’s edge. He shouldn’t. He knows that. But there are moments in life when nothing calms your battered heart more than knowing death is just one leap away. Staring at the bottom of the valley, with a tight voice he asks, “When did you meet my Sally?”
Paul responds from behind, “We didn’t sleep while she was still with you, honest to God. I’d never break the bro code.”
“Should I remind you that she’s dead, bro?” Jesus asks, emphasizing the last word with disdain.
“Listen, I didn’t know she was going psycho, honest to God. I mean, she was leaving me messages almost every day, but I figured she was just crazy. Most of them get it after you snub them a few times. But she kept sending message after message, over and over like a psycho. To be honest, I was getting scared for my life. I had nightmares, you should know. Nightmares. I even changed my locks, man. You never know what these chicks are capable of once they go psycho.”
Jesus should be screaming at Paul for labeling Sally as psycho, but his rage has dissipated, leaving him with nothing but a viscous venom called apathy that is poised to consume the last remnants of his soul. “Why her?” Jesus squeaks. “Wasn’t the rest of the world’s women enough for your golden dick? You had to have my Sally too?”
“At first it was,” Paul says, a tone of shame noticeable in his voice. “I just wanted to find that special one, open my heart to her, and show her the love that beats within. And I found her. She saw inside my heart, she felt the depth of my love, and then she crapped in it and—”
“Who? Sally?!”
“No. Annie, but what’s the difference? They’re all the same. Let me tell you something about chicks. Any chick you meet, any of them, you can be damn sure that she has crapped in someone’s heart already, or she will soon. I’ll guarantee that. They’re all the same. Sally, Annie, what’s the difference? You must remember Annie; she was the big-chested Puerto Rican hanging with Sally all the time. The bitch crapped in my heart and left me wounded and hurt. For whom? For fucking…Sam…Washington.”
“The…the basketball player?”
“And I figured out why. Because he has a big black dick and I don’t.” Paul lets out a feeble chuckle. “Just because I don’t have a black dick,” he says with hatred. “And I figured it all out. It took time, but I figured it out. It’s all about sex, man. Everything. Everything we do in life is motivated by sex. Pure, animal sex. I was just a delusional idiot to think otherwise. And you know what else? I got hurt because I was chasing love. The ones who chase sex, they never get hurt. They get what they want and then they move on. A very healthy, natural experience.”
“So you decided to screw everything that moves? Is that your idea of a healthy experience?”
“It’s not about me, dude. It’s about the game. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. At first, I was just an innocent boy who just wanted to get laid. That’s all. Just to get laid. But it’s not that easy. You gotta hone your skills and learn the rules. Getting laid is an art that requires delicacy and elegance. And I did it. I learned all about it; too much I’d say. I even learned the dark secret.” Paul makes a dramatic pause for longer than he should.
“Which is,” Jesus asks finally.
“The more you treat them like shit the more they come to you. It’s ugly, I know, but so is life. Once you have the knowledge, then it becomes a matter of choice. And I chose to be happy.”
“Or your penis chose for you,” Jesus says, his jaw clenched. “What’s the difference, right?”
Paul chuckles. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. My penis chose to be happy. Don’t get me wrong; my heart wanted to be happy too. But if history has taught us anything it’s that it’s not gonna happen, not to most of us anyway. So… I chose the happy penis; it was simpler, more accessible, and…you know, less risky. That, my friend, is a natural choice. Anybody else in my place would’ve done the same. I’m just a guy doing what guys do. We’re all the same.”
“No, we aren’t,” Jesus mutters.
“Blame the game, not the player,” Paul continues. “You cannot be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you. I was, but not anymore. If anything, I’m mad at myself, for being such an idiot and letting trash like you join the awakening.”
“Oh, please. What awakening?” Paul asks with a sneer. “Why do you think these poor suckers are seeking comfort in you? Do you ever think about that? Do you ever once think about that?”
“Because of the truth—”
“The hell with the truth,” Paul shouts. “These are sheep. Baa. Baa. Dumb fucking sheep. They don’t give a shit about the truth. They only care about eating, shitting, and fucking. That’s the summary of their sheepy life. They’re fed up with being bullshitted all their life, but they still need to believe in something. So, they found you. The new guy on the block, with no bad history yet, shinier, more trendy, and less boring rituals. Less”—he sneers—“no, you’ve got none, zero, nada. Not even a salsa dance. That’s why these sheep love you the most. Where do you think I came from? I was sick and tired of that prison-like church with that fascist pastor with all the rules, dos and don’ts, and—”
“So, you found me?” Jesus says with a trembling voice.
“So, I did. The guy with the easiest religion. No rules, no rituals, yet still comforting, so that I could sleep at night. Yeah, that’s what you are. You function as a sleeping pill for them. A strong tranquilizer for their guilty conscience. You are nothing but a drug. There you go. I said it. A drug. Happy now?”
Jesus’ gaze still remains on the bottom of the valley, where Vincent’s body exploded into countless pieces. That day, Jesus had no miracle to save Vincent. And today, he’s got none to save himself either. His soul has experienced the fall that Vincent’s body did. Jesus wonders if he could ever come back from this fall. He sighs and takes his eyes off the valley. He attempts a gulp, but his mouth is devoid of moisture, a sensation mirrored in his tear-drained eyes
Jesus struggles to rise, his strength waning. Using both hands for assistance, akin to someone advanced in decades, he manages to lift himself up. He feels dizzy for a second when he stands at the edge of the cliff. A soft breeze blows and easily throws him off balance, making him lean forward over the sheer drop. A bit of a push on his back and he’ll fall. In the moment, he doesn’t find that a terrible event. What would he do tomorrow, otherwise? How would he face his believers? Everything he believed in this world is now reduced to ashes, lost in the flames of disillusionment.
Jesus hasn’t much left to live for.
A gust of wind blows from the bottom of the valley and pushes him back on balance. Not today, he guesses, not today. Turning from the valley, Jesus walks away with trembling steps. He walks so slowly as if he has aged a hundred years in a matter of minutes. He would not be surprised if his beard was turned all gray now.
“So, are we good now?” Paul asks when Jesus passes by him.
“I am,” Jesus responds without looking at Paul.
“Okay. See you tomorrow then, I guess?”
Jesus stops and heaves a loud sigh of despair. Over his shoulder, he growls, “As God is my witness, I’ll never let you near the Messiah Show anymore. You’re finished—”
“Come on, now.”
“You’re fired!” Jesus yells his frustration.
“Fired, you said?” Paul laughs. “That’s one less thing to worry about. Your beloved show is canceled anyway, as of next week.”
“Canceled?!” Jesus exclaims, turning to Paul with a mix of surprise and disbelief.
“Yeah, finished,” Paul says with joy. “I guess Morgan cut a better deal with them. There’s going to be a new show right here on this very platform. I believe it’ll be called ‘The Enlightenment Show,’ or something like that. How about that? The Enlightenment.” Paul sneers. “Morgan put me in charge to pass the news to you. I guess the fatso still likes you. He wanted me to ease you into it. Oops,” Paul says with an evil smile on his face.
“Perhaps”—Jesus sighs—“Perhaps, that’s for the best. If the outcome is you,” he gestures to Paul with a condescending look, “the awakening is better off in sleep.”
The sun sets on Eden Adventure Park, leaving it in bleak darkness.