Free Up Jumps the Devil by Michael Poore Page B

moon were greeted with symphonies. The angels sang like never before.
    Lucifer made note of the angels’ joy, which frothed and bubbled. He made note that God didn’t share in this. God was pleased , but He never frothed or bubbled. Lucifer realized then how distant God must be, how different from them all in ways they could never understand.
    The Plan continued.
    The angels went bananas when the dry land appeared. That was their favorite. Everyone came in for a landing, then took off again, because the dry land was hot. But they sang while rubbing their feet.
    â€œThis is Good,” said God, more pleased than ever.
    It was a strange idea, “Good.”
    Lucifer frowned. If this or that, from now on, was “Good,” then by implication there were things that were not.
    â€œLife” was the most complicated part of the Plan.
    â€œWhat is it?” asked Lucifer, touring the first sandy beaches with God.
    God didn’t quite know.
    â€œIt’s sort of like what we have, you and Me and the angels. It’s got question marks all over it, but it will grow in good order, I think.”
    â€œWhat if it grows in some way you don’t expect?”
    â€œI’m okay with … what did you call them? Surprises? I’m willing to be surprised, within reason.”
    â€œWithin whose idea of reason?”
    God faced Lucifer, and gave him a very direct, very final kind of look.
    â€œMine,” he said.
    Lucifer stood biting his lip. “Maybe it will choose to grow in good order,” he said.
    God’s brow furrowed. “Choice” was another new and uncomfortable idea.
    LIGHTNING STROKED the sea.
    A few proteins woke up and started putting themselves together like puzzles.
    The puzzles were symmetrical, like God and His angels. This pleased God, and He said it was Good.
    The puzzles became complicated, and soaked up chemicals from the sea. They turned green, and ate up light as if it were food.
    â€œI didn’t see that coming,” said God, “but I like it. That’s Good.”
    The green spread out all over the place.
    Some of the protein complexes grew arms and legs like God and the angels (“Good!”). These things crawled up onto the dry land and started eating plants. (“That’s Good, I suppose,” said God. “They’ve got to eat something.”).
    One day, God and Lucifer were patrolling the fringes of a hot, misty jungle when they happened upon a small creature eating weeds. There was something calm and satisfying about this little scene, and they paused for a moment to watch.
    The moment was broken by another creature, larger and more pointy than the first, which lunged up out of the water, grabbed the herbivore around the middle in a flash of fangs and gore, and dragged it screaming beneath the water.
    God shuddered. He put His hands over His face and said emphatically that this wasn’t Good at all.
    â€œMaybe ‘Good’ has nothing to do with it,” said Lucifer. “Maybe it’s just a way of doing things. Maybe Life won’t necessarily do things the way You’d do things.”
    Maybe he let impatience creep into his voice. Something in what he said or how he said it got God’s attention. God lifted His face out of His hands and met Lucifer’s eyes. When Lucifer saw God’s face, he stifled a cry, took wing, and fled.
    If it was possible to not be God and somehow understand what being God was like, Lucifer understood it, however dimly, in that moment. He hadn’t expected the deep, awful loneliness in those eyes. When You had created everything, and everything was a part of You, then no matter how much You filled up the universe, You were still alone. And when the universe began making its own choices and doing its own thing, everything it did made You feel left out, just a little. There was infinite greatness in being God, of course. But Lucifer saw that there were horror and