Gary Moshimer<\/p>\n
I picked Jesus up from the hospital where Cindy worked. He was in a corner of the basement with his hand broken off and his paint chipped, covered with dust, and I thought that had to be a sin. She planned to make him a new hand and paint him and return him to a place of honor. The maintenance man helped me carry him to my pickup. I wrapped his body in a blanket and left his face free so he could see the heavenly blue sky rushing overhead.<\/p>\n
I stopped at a McDonald\u2019s drive-thru, and the kid asked me if that was Jesus, and I said, Yes, and he would like a free super-size, and we got that with no charge.<\/p>\n
I put him in the corner of the kitchen, where the light from the glass doors would be good for painting. He had shoulder-length hair parted in the middle, a neatly trimmed beard. He had blue eyes. I looked into them for a glimmer of life, but they were dull. He wore a red tunic over a white robe. He had a golden sash. On his chest was the bleeding heart. He had his left hand over it. The hand had a bloody hole. The other hand, which was missing, was probably meant to be outstretched. He looked good standing there in the kitchen.<\/p>\n
I got the Windex and paper towels and did a head to toe. When I was on my knees, I thought, Here I am washing Jesus\u2019s feet with Windex. I did his back and found a quarter-sized hole, something to do with the mold. I dropped a quarter in, but he didn\u2019t do anything.<\/p>\n
Cindy had her paints and brushes on a little cart, and some putty for fixing blemishes. We filled the nicks and drank some red wine while it dried. We sanded a little and had some more wine. She got to work painting. Jesus was looking good, shining, like there was a light within.<\/p>\n
She bent the wire and sculpted the clay over it. She fashioned fingernails with a little tool. Then she baked it in the oven. When the hand was done, she glued it on. She told me to hold it tight until it dried. I swear it warmed.<\/p>\n
In the morning Cindy put finishing touches on the hand. She put shellac on his eyes to make them shine. She pecked my cheek. I promised to mow the lawn. After she left, I poured my Sugar Pops. There was not enough. I pouted. The box overflowed onto the table, Pops everywhere. I ate one big bowl, then ran out of milk. When I rinsed the bowl, milk flowed from the faucet. I ate two more bowls while looking at him.<\/p>\n
I lay on the couch while my gut rumbled. I heard the back door open. When I looked, Jesus was gone. He was coming out of the shed with my rusty scythe, swinging through the overgrowth. He looked to the sky a lot, raising that new hand of his. A couple clouds moved in and he split them so the rays burst through. I started out but then saw my neighbor Mrs. Cox on her lawn looking over, hands on her hips.<\/p>\n
When he was done, he went back into the shed. I went out, waving to Mrs. Cox. He had found the cigarettes I hid from Cindy and was having one.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He blew smoke rings. \u201cWhat does it look like?\u201d One ring circled his head like a halo, and he laughed. His voice was not a good Jesus voice. It was high pitched with a crack. \u201cIt can\u2019t hurt me, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt doesn\u2019t look good.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do you think I was in the basement?\u201d He flicked the ashes right on the floor. \u201cI\u2019m not a good Jesus.\u201d He put the butt out in his palm.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, my wife just fixed your bloody hole.\u201d I brushed the ashes off. I brushed the grass from his robes. I\u2019d have to wash his feet again. \u201cCome on, get back and stand in the kitchen. Cindy will be home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine. You\u2019re welcome for the lawn by the way. And the Pops.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, thank you. Can you do more Pops?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s one thing I\u2019m good at.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mrs. Cox was like the neighbor on Bewitched<\/i>. She rang my bell and poked her head in. \u201cWho was cutting your grass?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLocal teenager. Mower broke.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA hippie?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSomething like that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sick. I could use some help.\u201d She stretched her neck to see Jesus as I closed the door.<\/p>\n
I heard her behind the door. \u201cI know that\u2019s Jesus in there. I need his touch. My arthritis.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDoes Cindy know?\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened the door. Her painted eyebrows formed accusing arches.<\/p>\n
\u201cFine.\u201d<\/p>\n
I led her in. She was faking her stiff-legged gait. \u201cIt\u2019s amazing,\u201d she said, placing her claw hand in his. She mumbled some prayer and after a minute started to shake, her bracelets jingling. \u201cI feel it!\u201d She fell like a tiny tree. I caught her just in time. Her purple eyelids quivered. I slapped her jowls lightly until she opened her eyes.<\/p>\n
I walked her to the door. She jerked across the sidewalk like a marionette. I called after her: \u201cI\u2019ll tell Cindy myself!\u201d<\/p>\n
I got the Windex and wiped him down. I washed his feet. I got my box of red wine and asked him if he wanted some, but he stayed a statue. I drank until I had a buzz. I wondered if I was going crazy. I asked him if he wanted to go have a smoke, but he didn\u2019t respond. Now I missed him.<\/p>\n
Cindy came home, found me drunk and was angry. She\u2019d looked at the lawn. \u201cWhy the hell did you chop it like that? Were you drunk then, too?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe mower didn\u2019t run.\u201d<\/p>\n
I opened my mouth, but just couldn\u2019t tell her about Jesus. She stormed off to the shower and then to the TV in the spare room. I put my head on the table. I drifted off and felt a hand on my shoulder. I knew it was his. It was strong and put me at ease. I slept.<\/p>\n
Cindy woke me. It was morning. She was making her power shake. I sat up with drool hanging down.<\/p>\n
\u201cMake sure you rake the lawn today,\u201d she said. She touched up some of his paint. \u201cHe looks dull again. I don\u2019t get it.\u201d She sniffed him. \u201cSmells like smoke.\u201d She gave me a dirty look and put the newspaper in front of me, opened to the help wanted page. She left for work.<\/p>\n
\u201cBye,\u201d I said, opening the Sugar Pops. They overflowed into my giant bowl. Something else popped out too: a toy, a little plastic jet. I held it and saw the tiny pilot inside with his thumb up. It took off down the hall leaving vapor trails. It went upstairs. I tried catching it, following the sound, which was like a mosquito, but it dove and rolled and I couldn\u2019t come close. I finally gave up.<\/p>\n
When I went back, Jesus was gone again. He was out back bending over, picking something up.<\/p>\n
\u201cGet in here,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He held a baby rabbit. He had nicked it. It was barely alive.<\/p>\n
\u201cJesus,\u201d I said. \u201cCan you save it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPoor thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI suck at miracles.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can do it. Just believe. I believe in you.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sighed. He closed his eyes and waved his other hand over the bunny. It twitched a few times and then was still.<\/p>\n
\u201cShit,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
A shellac tear coursed down his cheek. \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d He bowed his head.<\/p>\n
I found a shoebox to put it in.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need a cigarette,\u201d Jesus said.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet me check that the coast is clear.\u201d I peeked out. Mrs. Cox was doing jumping jacks on her lawn like crazy. We hustled to the shed and lit up. He coughed a couple times and dust came out. \u201cSo when do you come to life?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust for you. You picked me up.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t tell Cindy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019ll think you\u2019re a loon.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cRight.\u201d<\/p>\n
We ran back in and found the bunny squirming. I gave Jesus a high five and his hand flew off. \u201cFuck!\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cFuck!\u201d he said, and we started to laugh. His face cracked a little, something we\u2019d have to fix later.<\/p>\n
\u201cSome vino!\u201d he said. \u201cTo celebrate.\u201d<\/p>\n
We drank from the box. Most of it ran down his chin. We finished the box and tossed it across the room. A buzz circled our heads — it was the toy jet, and we giggled. We didn\u2019t notice the rabbit. It had escaped and hopped away. Eventually we passed out on the couch, and when Cindy came in she saw a wasted me with a heavy, handless, wine stained, smoky-smelling statue with a cracked face across my lap. She tore me a new one, talking about all her work gone to shit because I\u2019m alone at home, irresponsible like a child.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll clean him up,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know you will!\u201d Off she stormed again, just as the jet ripped by, inches from her face. \u201cAnd get that insect!\u201d<\/p>\n
Jesus and I were laughing inside.<\/p>\n
I filled the cracks in his face the best I could with putty before going to bed. I said goodnight and went upstairs. In the bathroom something brushed my foot, scared the hell out of me. It was the bunny. It sat on my foot, trembling and so damn cute. I held it in my hand, watched the little nose twitch. It was too much. I wondered what to do with it. I put it in a bigger box, but in the morning it was in bed with us. It chewed my toes and then chewed Cindy\u2019s and she sat up and threw the covers off, burying the bunny in them. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d she said, flicking her feet. \u201cI thought I\u2019d try something different,\u201d I said. \u201cYou sick son-of-a-bitch,\u201d she said, and went off to the spare room. I heard the jet fly after her.<\/p>\n
\u201cHold still,\u201d I said. I was gluing his hand back on, and he was fidgeting. \u201cCan\u2019t you turn back to a statue until I\u2019m done?\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes tight. \u201cNope. Guess as long as you\u2019re around I\u2019m human.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, you\u2019re not really human, because you still break.\u201d I pressed the hand on and held it there.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to be a real boy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVery funny. Here, you hold this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis sucks.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sprayed the Windex and polished him. \u201cDamn, there are these tiny cracks all over you. It\u2019s from moving, I think. You\u2019re going to have to take it easy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t like that. I just came to life and now I have to be an old person? You don\u2019t know how many years I stood at that hospital and watched the happy young people, and the sad old ones. Then the young turning old, sick and dying and praying to me to save them but I don\u2019t think I did jack shit for them.\u201d<\/p>\n
I cleaned his face. The cracks I\u2019d filled were forming again. \u201cI\u2019m sure you did people good, just seeing you and believing. I\u2019m sure you helped many.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStop talking a minute.\u201d<\/p>\n
The rabbit came from somewhere, hopped across the kitchen and started gnawing on a cabinet. It had grown tenfold overnight. \u201cHoly shit. You helped him, or her. Look at the size of that thing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis calls for more vino.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTry the faucet.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned the knob and the wine flowed. \u201cI don\u2019t think we should.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCome on. I want to live.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAll right. But use a straw this time. Try not to move your mouth too much. And use the other hand.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBlah, blah, blah.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know what I really want?\u201d he said. We were sitting on the couch, quite wasted. He lifted his arm with a crackling sound and draped it over my shoulder. \u201cChinese food. I\u2019ve seen so many people eating it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is good. It\u2019s hard to describe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s get some. Right now.\u201d<\/p>\n
The rabbit was sitting on our feet. He was now about three feet long and forty pounds. Somehow it didn\u2019t seem so strange to me. And the jet was still zooming around, growing with each pass. It was quite noisy now, about a foot long. I\u2019d have to let it out soon. There was the faint whiff of jet fuel. \u201cMan,\u201d I said, \u201cCindy is going to kill me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why we should go out.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou still have to be here when she comes home.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll do takeout.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, yeah.\u201d<\/p>\n
I found the menu and called in an appetizer sampler and a couple combos.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll drop the bunny somewhere. I know a nice meadow.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWait a minute.\u201d I grabbed one of my tee shirts and slipped it over him. \u201cAnd you stay in the car.\u201d<\/p>\n
I picked up Bunny. Jesus held the door and we watched the jet fly out and climb into the blue. On the way to the car we saw Mrs. Cox running down the street. She had weights on her wrists and ankles. She looked a foot taller. Her shirt had a big \u201cC\u201d on the front.<\/p>\n
Jesus didn\u2019t look good. In the car he was half man, half statue, like he\u2019d had a stroke. His words were jumbled. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have taken you out,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkee-dokee I be,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Bunny\u2019s nose twitched between us, the whiskers poking my eyes and making me swerve. All I needed was a cop right now.<\/p>\n
And I could see the jet up there, flying low. The air force was probably on its way.<\/p>\n
I pulled into the park, found the sunny meadow I had in mind. I stopped and opened the door and said, \u201cYou\u2019re free!\u201d But Bunny just looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cBunny b-bye,\u201d said Jesus, lifting his new hand with difficulty and waving the fingers.<\/p>\n
I went around, opened the other door and pushed. This Bunny would not budge. I went into the field and pretended to eat clover. \u201cNum, num . . . \u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cNummy,\u201d Jesus said.<\/p>\n
Bunny flopped over, looking bored. I sighed, closed the doors, and drove to the Chinese place.<\/p>\n
I raced in, because there were a few people hanging around the sidewalk. I rocked on my feet, waiting in a line of four people. The cooks seemed to be arguing over their woks in Chinese. \u201cPlease,\u201d I mumbled, and everyone turned to look at me. \u201cEmergency,\u201d I said. Just then there was an explosion outside, the shockwave scattering the other patrons and dropping them to the floor with arms over their heads. The boom was followed by the roar of jet engines. I knew it had broken the sound barrier at a low altitude. I was composed. I stepped up to the counter and gave the lady my number. \u201cThirty-four dolla,\u201d she said, not missing a beat. I threw two twenties and darted.<\/p>\n
Kids had gathered around the car, legs still wobbly from the boom, sticky hands on the windows. Mothers were huddled, speaking of the world\u2019s end. Jesus was stiff, his forehead pressing the ceiling. The giant rabbit was the draw, of course, Bunny\u2019s quivering nose smudging the glass under slapping hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cBreak it up, \u201c I said. I dug into the bag and handed out fortune cookies, herding them to the sidewalk. I hopped into the car and sped away. I thought about typing tiny threatening fortunes: Giant rabbits will haunt you forever. <\/i>And, Jesus is coming for you. <\/i><\/p>\n
He came to in a minute, his body crackling, easing to a sitting position. He\u2019d left a big dent in the ceiling. Paint had scraped off on the glove box, and in fact a lot of his paint was peeling, like a skin disease. I had a bad feeling, like he was dying. \u201cYou can\u2019t die, right? I mean, being Jesus.\u201d<\/p>\n
He talked more clearly now. \u201cOf course. That\u2019s what Jesus is famous for, duh. Died for the sins of man?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut a statue can\u2019t really die.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell it can\u2019t really live, either. I\u2019d say you\u2019re in a real mess.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet\u2019s not think about it. Let\u2019s eat our food.\u201d<\/p>\n
Bunny was already eating the bag. I handed Jesus an eggroll and he chomped it with difficulty, shreds of cabbage and red pork product dribbling down the tee shirt. Bunny nibbled them off. Jesus writhed in agony and giggled. \u201cWhat is this called?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d say you\u2019re ticklish.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s amazing! I do want to live!\u201d<\/p>\n
I felt tears in my eyes.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd this is so good. What is in it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo one knows. Chinese food is one of well-guarded secrets of the universe.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHuh.\u201d<\/p>\n
When I opened the front door of my house, the Sugar Pops poured out. They were to the ceiling. Bunny dove in and disappeared; we heard him crunching away.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo something,\u201d I said, trying to kick a path.<\/p>\n
Jesus held up his hand, glistening with grease. He was distracted and licked his fingers. \u201cI can\u2019t think straight,\u201d he said. \u201cThis is so good.\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed his eyes, made the sign of the cross, but nothing happened. Mrs. Cox saw us. She was about seven feet tall now and wore gold tights with her giant red \u201cC\u201d and red cape, red boots. She came with her snowblower and blew a path, but then left, a half-assed heroine, saluting us and leaving me to clean the rest up with broom and shovel and Shop Vac. There was still Pop dust on the walls and windows, but fuck it, I heated the food so we could eat.<\/p>\n
\u201cI think this is my first and last meal,\u201d he said. He could no longer lift his arms, so I had to feed him.<\/p>\n
\u201cShhhh,\u201d I said, holding a noodle up to his mouth.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s this?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLo Mein. Suck.\u201d<\/p>\n
He slurped those noodles and I tried to keep up with a napkin, wiping the flying soy sauce. He was in ecstasy. \u201cThis must be heaven,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s close.\u201d<\/p>\n
He finished the whole container. I took off the tee shirt and wiped him down. He was covered with fissures now; it looked like he might just fall to pieces. I heard Cindy\u2019s car pull up. \u201cBetter get back to your corner,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
I did some half-hearted swipes with a paper towel at the windows, the table, but I was tired and didn\u2019t care. She came in, put her briefcase down slowly, looked around. \u201cWhat did you do now?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to tell you the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPlease.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. So earlier the house was filled with Sugar Pops, because Jesus can do that, and it just got out of hand. I got most of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReally.\u201d She toed the torn edge of the carpet and looked at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, that\u2019s probably from the snowblower. Mrs. Cox — you should see her, she\u2019s like an Amazon now, and wears a costume, because Jesus cured her arthritis — anyway, she came through with her snowblower.\u201d I shrugged.<\/p>\n
She toed something else, a big rabbit turd I missed. \u201cThis looks more like a Cocoa Puff.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, and there\u2019s this giant rabbit. Jesus brought it back life, and it just kind of grew. It\u2019s around here somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n
She took a slow, deep breath, the kind just before her head explodes. She walked past me to the kitchen and stood before Jesus. \u201cWhat have you done to it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI think he\u2019s dying,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat is this?\u201d She pinched something from his hand and held it up.<\/p>\n
\u201cLo Mein. He wanted it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are a sick, sick man.\u201d She tossed it at my face. \u201cI want you to take the statue back, or to the dump. I can\u2019t fix it. It\u2019s deteriorated too much.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s not an it, <\/i>okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to my mother\u2019s for a while, and when I come back I want him <\/i>gone and the place cleaned up.\u201d<\/p>\n
I helped him out to the car. Bunny hopped behind us. \u201cI\u2019m not taking you back there,\u201d I said. \u201cWe\u2019ll just go somewhere.\u201d<\/p>\n
He couldn\u2019t answer. His cheeks split and I could see inside, hollow emptiness. For a second I thought I was hearing and feeling the roar of some sacred storm, some force within him that would suck me in. The ground shook, trees swayed.<\/p>\n
It was the jet, landing on my street. Mrs. Cox was out there waving her long arms, directing it. The bubble opened and the plastic pilot waved us on board. \u201cWe can\u2019t fit,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
He pulled off his helmet. His tan plastic face grinned. \u201cThis is a special aircraft,\u201d he said, \u201cwith one mission. You will fit.\u201d His molded jaw was determined.<\/p>\n
We got Jesus on with difficulty, jigsaw pieces of him hitting the pavement. I sat in the back seat with him, and the pilot mashed Bunny in front. He put his helmet back on and spoke into a little microphone.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t we need helmets?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere we\u2019re going, it doesn\u2019t matter.\u201d<\/p>\n
He closed the cockpit before I could object, fired up the engines. Mrs. Cox held up a couple cars and waved us on. In seconds it seemed we were going straight up, my screaming head smashed against the back of the seat.<\/p>\n
We shot through a bank of clouds and I closed my eyes. After the great boom the sound of the jet disappeared, along with my fear. There was utter silence. We were floating. A firm hand held my shoulder, and when I opened my eyes Jesus was a man of flesh and blood, that heart on his chest beating, the tear on his cheek real. He took my hand and we stared into the bright light, unafraid.<\/p>\n
GARY MOSHIMER<\/b> has stories in FRiGG<\/i>, PANK<\/i>, Monkeybicycle<\/i>, SmokeLong Quarterly<\/i>, Bewildering Stories<\/i>, Eclectica<\/i>, and other places.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Gary Moshimer I picked Jesus up from the hospital where Cindy worked. He was in a corner of the basement with his hand broken off and his paint chipped, covered with dust, and I thought that had to be a … Continue reading