An Interview

    

            “What were you thinking?”

            “What do you mean… thinking?”

            “In the beginning, what was it you wanted to accomplish?” Martha pushed against the chair until she felt the wood spindles on her back. She counted four. His piercing eyes never left her face as He sat, quietly waiting. He held something in his hand, every so often He would glance down. Her beating heart pounded at her temples; she ignored it, took a breath and asked, “In the beginning, what did you want?”

            “There was no beginning…”

             Martha summoned all her courage, wiped the droplets of sweat from her upper lip and asked, “What do you mean there was no beginning? Everything starts somewhere.” 

            “It just was…” He replied softly.

            Martha set her pen and pad down then rubbed her hands across her slacks… determined.  She sensed something, but it was like trying to touch a whisper.

            “It’s alright Martha; I like that you’re so brave. Being brave isn’t easy. It’s like pushing against a storm; it takes your breath away, but you always push onward, keeping your head down until you reach your destination. Then you face it full on. That’s a rare quality.”

            “I’m sure most people are brave, if need be.” Martha replied.

            “Are you quite sure? Humans respond differently to difficult situations. They fight or flee. Did you read the manual?”

            “I read it. Some parts were easier to understand than others. There are so many if’s. I’ve always wondered about the if’s.”

            “I thought I made it all rather easy. This isn’t my first time around you know.”

            “You’ve done this before?”

            “Several times.”

            Martha had never seen such a contented look; His smiled covered his face like a spring cloud. “Why did it take several times to get it right?” she asked, “Why didn’t you get it right the first time?”

            “That’s what I mean when I call you brave. How many do you think would even consider questioning me? I’m very powerful, you know.”

            Martha sat quietly, thinking, “I don’t know how brave I am. I’m about to bolt through that door. I’m scared witless.” She kept her head down and couldn’t help but wonder, “Why didn’t you get it right the first time?” He reached over and tipped up her chin. His look told her he knew her thoughts,

             “What makes you think I didn’t get it right every time?” Martha felt a breath of fresh air fill the room. She closed her eyes; the sense that had been floating over her was closing in. She felt fear and joy at the same time.

            “What’s happening?” she asked

            “You’re remembering,” He replied softly.

            “Remembering what?” Martha didn’t try to stop the tears.

            “That I have always loved you.” He took her hand and placed a small wooden cross on her palm. She looked into His eyes, “It’s just a reminder,” He said, “I don’t want you to ever forget how much I love you.” He stood, taking Martha’s hand in His as they walked to the door.

            “I’m sorry we messed everything up so badly,” she whispered.                                                       He walked through the door calling back over His shoulder,

            “Don’t worry; I’ve taken care of everything.”