Thirty Eons


       Janey said to God, “I’m bored. Need a toy.”

       “Would you like a new star?” asked God. Janey shook her head. “A new galaxy?” Janey shook her head. “A whole new universe?”

       “I want something with life on it,” said Janey. She put her hands on her hips and tried to look cross.

       God left her throne and went to a window. “Very well!” she said and cast her hand across space. A big red planet appeared not far away.

       Janey clapped her hands and went to the planet. There was hot lava everywhere, and creatures made of rock were bathing their feet in the red rivers. She tried to talk with them, but they mostly complained about how hot it was, and wouldn’t snow be a nice thing for once?

        Janey went back to God. “This planet sure is boring. It’s more boring than the universe was before!”

       God’s eyebrow rose. “Very well.” And the planet winked out of existence. God went to the window and cast her hand across space. A great silver planet appeared not far away.

       Janey clapped and went to the planet. Everything was made of silver, and the silver creatures who lived there spent all their time mining silver so that they could make silver mountains and silver hills. She tried to talk with them, but they were very busy with their mining and told her to come back in a few years.

       Janey went to God. “Super boring. Worst yet.”

       “Creation is easy,” said God. “Not being boring is hard. Very well!” In a flash, the silver planet disappeared. God went to the window and cast her hand across space. A great green planet appeared not far away.

       Janey clapped and went to the planet. It was full of trees, and the people who lived there made houses in the branches. She tried to talk with them, but all they wanted to speak about was the importance of trees, how they helped the land, what kinds they were. They even named their trees.

       Janey went back to God. “That was better, but still very boring. You’re just not very good at this, are you?”

       “I don’t think you can say that to God,” she remarked. “Now Janey, I think you need to behave a little better.”

       Janey crossed her arms. “Behave better? This house is so boring! We never leave! We never go anywhere! You’d think after a few eons that you could at least remodel the place or put in a swing set for me to play on! And that wallpaper! Why must we have wallpaper? A bit of paint would make this place so much brighter!”

        “Kids…” said God, shaking her head. She went to her throne. In a few moments, she was deep asleep.

       Janey stamped her foot. When she was sure that God was asleep, she picked up her hand and made the green planet disappear. Then she cast God’s hand across space, and a blue planet appeared not far away. Janey snuck down to the planet and walked around. There were monkeys in the trees and little fish in the oceans. The monkeys were mostly stupid, and the fish never said anything at all.

        “At least you’re cute,” Janey said to one of the monkeys. The monkey scratched its head and pooped on Janey’s hand. “Gross! But at least you’re not too boring. I mean, you’re pretty useless, but at least you’re interesting.”

        Janey visited the planet many times. She swam in the oceans and swung through the trees. She climbed the mountains and walked in the caves. Monkeys came with her wherever she went, making their monkey noises. Occasionally, they pooped on her hand, and giggled loudly whenever they did.

        An eon flashed by. Then another. Janey grew taller, more like a young lady. God grew a beard, a thick, fluffy thing. Angels paid a visit and had a cake and soda party. God’s mother and father came for a weekend and drank all the milk. The next time Janey turned her attention to the blue planet, something was coming towards God’s house.

       The spaceship landed on the house, and out came a monkey. Only this monkey was tall and handsome, and not hairy in the slightest. Janey waited for it to poop on her hand, but it didn’t.

       “Do you like my spaceship?” asked the monkey.

       “I’ve seen better,” said Janey. “Can I help you?”

       The monkey handed her a note. It was an eviction notice. “I’m afraid,” said the monkey, “that we human beings are expanding. We need more space. You see, we’re a race of explorers now, and don’t need God anymore. We’re going to need you to move. It’s all spelled out in the letter.” With that, the monkey got in his spaceship and blasted away.

       Janey took the letter to God. “Got a problem.”

       God read the note. “I don’t remember making this blue planet…”

       “Maybe you made a mistake?” asked Janey. “It’s been there an awful long time. Not far away. Right there,” she pointed.

       “I could just make them all disappear,” suggested God.

       “You know, I think they’ll probably just make themselves disappear if you give them time,” returned Janey. “Say, why don’t we just do what they want? Leave? We could go to the other side of the universe. That might be nice.”

       “But I like this spot!” protested God.

       “Oh, come on,” said Janey, already starting to pack. “A change would be nice. Plus, it’s a good time for you to shave.”

       “You don’t like my beard?” thundered God.

       “The angels make fun of it, but I think it’s great,” said Janey, pulling on the hair gently. “Let’s go.”

        And so God and Janey packed up the house in big brown boxes that they put on the back of a great cosmic sleigh. The house, thirty-seven eons old, winked out of existence. The sleigh faced the stars and soared into them, on the way to the other side of the universe, a place Janey had only ever read about. On the trip, God taught Janey to drive. She took the controls and guided them through the heavens, thinking to herself (but never admitting to God) that finally, after all this time, she had found something to do that was definitely, distinctly, and absolutely, not boring.

       Behind them, in the space where God’s house had been, little silver spaceships were moving outwards from a blue planet. They were very slow but gaining speed. Like little ants, they reached out from their blue planet, leaving trails wherever they went, little monkeys no longer hairy, small creatures tall and proud, wondering how big the universe was, and how it had all come to be.

Dream hard, rage hard.

19 thoughts on “Thirty Eons

  1. Very well done. A suggestion that God has abandoned us, a mistake he never meant to make. 😉

    (By the way, did you mean to make God a woman who grows a beard?)

    1. Yes, God is a woman who grows a beard. I actually think this is the third time I’ve written a story about a bearded female God. It just seems right to me.

      We abandoned God, God abandoned us, or the other way around, so it goes…

      1. Now that you mention it, I think you’re right about the bearded female God being a regular visitor to your universe.

        A whole lot of abandonment going on.

  2. I can see how this can be read as God abandoning us, the mistake he never meant to make, but the last line to me seems to put the onus on us, saying we gave him the boot and are now doomed to infinite ignorance. I like Janey’s matter-of-factness: ‘Janey took the letter to God. “Got a problem.”’ Personally, I think that in the West one of the biggest wrong turns we’ve made is projecting our humanity onto a character we think of as God, giving him/her/it a body, a person with attributes like our own. I think the impersonal, all-encompassing approach of the Eastern traditions is probably much closer to the truth.

    1. I think it’s just an imperfect relationship, one that easily spiralled into a break-up. It happens. As for east/west, I’m pretty sure everyone has it wrong. What’s right? I think that remains to be seen.

      Thanks for the feedback, Walt, as always.

  3. We should have never evicted God. Think what that will do to our property values. And I think we owe a debt of gratitude for our creation, not just to God, but also to Janey.
    In Janey’s name, Amen.

    1. I think Janey is the unsung hero, and no one ever talks about her… God gets all the credit, and she didn’t even really do anything… it’s just nuts.

  4. This is that what must be! Very amusing. One correction for you. (although I like the unintended 1% reference and now I will forever think: money is derived from monkey)
    The spaceship landed on the house, and out came a >money<. Only this monkey was tall and handsome,

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