Quarto received an online submission from our late peer Charlie Noxon in early November of 2019. As an editorial board, with the support of his family, we chose to honor his writing in our 2020 Spring Print Edition and are posting it to our website now. We offer our sincerest condolences to his family, friends, and loved ones.

On the 41st day from the second coming of the Son of Man, Theodore Fiske lost his job.

“Excuse me?” Theo’s eyes bulged.

Mr. Tomas gave a somber nod. He leaned forward across his desk with a squeak of his chair.

“You’re a good kid, Ted. There’s plenty out there for you. I’m really letting you off the line here. Go find somewhere else to swim. You’re a beautiful fish, kid.”

“What?” Theo choked.

“A beautiful fish. And I’m letting you off the line to swim for greener pastures.”

“Swim for greener pastures,” Theo repeated softly.

“Yes!” Mr. Tomas gave a toothy smile, “Go find your new home. It’s a vast ocean of companies out there.”

“There’re places hiring right now?” Theo felt unconvinced.

“Oh I’m so glad you understand, Ted my boy” Mr. Tomas’s grin widened, “Why, I bet it’s straight to the ice box for you, next company that scoops you up.”

“Ice box?” Theo’s fishing knowledge was just about reaching its limit.

“Yes! The ice box! Once they reel you in, they’ll take one look and say, ‘my, this is a damn fine catch’ and throw you right in the ice box. Right in, I tell you. You’re a damn fine catch, damn fine.”

Theo swallowed. He didn’t love the image of the ice box. He started, “Mr. Tomas, I’m not sure I understand. Are we downsizing? Have I done something wrong?”

Mr. Tomas puffed the air out of his cheeks, smile drooping, “No, no, you’re a good kid. Ted, I hate to tell you, but we’re doing some restructuring. The board,” Mr. Tomas made a swiping gesture with his hands, as if pushing the word away, “the board thinks it’s best to explore some new options for the more day-to-day tasks of operation.”

“What kind of options?” Theo asked.

“Well,” Mr. Tomas seemed to wilt a little. “Ted, kid, we’re bringing in new resources for management.”

“Resources? Mr. Tomas, what’s going on?” Theo’s face flushed.

Mr. Tomas shrunk back into his chair with another loud squeak, “Aw, Ted, this is hard for me too. Have a bit of compassion.”

Mr. Tomas swiveled his chair to look at the corner of the room, where Jesus Christ was standing patiently.

“Hey, Jesus, can you help me out here?” Mr. Tomas pleaded.

“Of course, Fred. I’m here to make this easier.” Jesus moved towards the desk to rest a large hand on Mr. Tomas’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

“No…” Theo shook his head, the realization coming to him.

Jesus began, fixing his eyes on Theo’s, “Theodore, Fred has asked me to take over managing the middle levels of the company.”

“It was the board, the board,” Mr. Tomas muttered, mostly to himself.

Theo stared. Jesus smiled at him with infinite compassion.

“Is he paying you? Why—Jesus Christ, damnit,” Theo trailed off.

Jesus answered, “Dearest Theodore, I am helping because Fred asked. I have no need for compensation. What parent would not give succor to the child in need?”

Theo was speechless. He stood in a daze and walked to the office’s door, “I’m leaving.”

Mr. Tomas called behind him, “You’ll get a severance, Ted. You’re a beautiful fish, a damn fine catch, kid! Damn fine…”

As Theo shambled to the elevator with his cardboard box, he caught a glimpse of Jesus still inside Mr. Tomas’s office, giving him a back rub and whispering something into his ear. Mr. Tomas nodded along, eyes closed. Theo groaned. He looked down into his box: a few papers, some picture frames, and potted plant that drooped sadly over one of the box’s edges.

“My cup runneth over,” Theo thought bitterly.

With a ding, the elevator doors opened to show Jesus standing inside the car. Theo took a deep breath, “What do you want?”

Jesus gave a deep hmm, as if he’d heard something profound.

“My child, I sense you’re upset. I would be a balm to your pain,” he offered. Theo snorted and stepped into the elevator, pressing for the ground floor with his hip.

“Are you still in there with him? Mr. Tomas? Fred?”

Jesus nodded, “Yes, Theodore. I am there for all of my children.”

“How many people are you talking to right now? Is this conversation we’re having number seven-billion-something?” Theo asked.

Jesus moved around Theo to embrace him from behind. Theo flinched. Jesus smelled faintly of honey and fresh milk.

“Dearest Theodore, I am always with every one of my children. Where there is need for me, I shall be. Your soul is as precious to me as anything. Do not think that the aid I give to others makes our bond any less valuable,” Jesus spoke gently into Theo’s ear.

Theo spun out of the hug. The dangling end of his potted plant whipped lightly across Jesus’s face. The Lamb’s hand rose to stroke at his chin.

“Oh, dearest Theodore, I will leave you to your thoughts. But know that my ear is always open to you. I shall be there for you whenever you have need of me.”

With another ding, the elevator opened into the building lobby. Theo walked out towards the main doors. Jesus remained in the car.

At a coffee shop near his apartment, Theo sat across from his box watching the ice slowly melt in his latte. A TV on the wall was tuned to the news, offering commentary on last week’s ruling in United States v. Nazareth.

Although he did reside in the soul of every man and beast, a peppy reporter summarized, Jesus was likely first born somewhere in the Middle East. That is to say, the reporter continued, outside the sovereign territory of the United States and moreover long before its founding. Jesus had never dealt with any of the appropriate paperwork to naturalize, nor did he show any interest in doing so.

Even so, the majority opinion held, the question of citizenship held little sway over a deity living outside of the normal rhythms of entropy and economy. Jesus Christ, it was decided, was best classified as a new kind of technology, albeit a strange one. Appearing to any and all who sought him out, there was no monopoly to break up or patents for the court to protect. The messiah could proceed unregulated.

Without any cameras in the courtroom, the illustrator’s impressions of the trial showed Jesus seated behind the defendant’s desk (and the plaintiff’s, and occupying a few seats among the spectators, and, when Theo looked closely at the TV screen, behind two of the Catholic justices and one of the Jewish ones, scribbling away on a legal pad). All of his faces were sanguine, with a slight smile framed by a dusty brown beard.

Theo looked around the coffee shop. Jesus was sitting at a few of the tables, chatting away with a kid sipping at an orange juice, an older couple with matching wire frame glasses, and a 20- something in a leather jacket who looked suspiciously like a young Elvis Presley.

“Who’s to say he isn’t Elvis?” Theo thought to himself, “Stranger things have happened. Are happening.”

Theo smiled as the ice cubes in his drink clinked into a new arrangement.

“You were what?!”

Theo stared penitently at the floor.

“Mr. Tomas said I was getting a severance,” he mumbled, “I’m sure it’ll tide us over until—I don’t know.”

“Until what, Teddy? Until what? This was supposed to be it, you said! The corporate ladder and fuck all!” Marie sputtered, gesturing wildly with her arms, “I distinctly remember you saying that this was a rung on the corporate ladder, that there was a lot of space for advancement. I distinctly remember you saying that. My memory is very good for these things.”

Theo raised his head up to look at his fiancée. The bangles on her wrist clinked as she lowered her arms. Theo ran his hand through his hair, determined not to stumble.

“Marie, baby, it’s going to be okay. I’ll find another job. Mr. Tomas said I was a real catch. I’m sure he’ll write me a reference. It’s a vast ocean of companies. Someone’s gonna hire me.”

“What’s with this fucking ocean shit?” Marie’s eyes bore into Theo, “Who’s gonna hire you, Teddy? Who? Ach, we’re going to have to postpone the ceremony unless you get your shit together.” Marie shook her head.

“We don’t even have a date yet. I’m sure it’ll work out—”

“Is all well out there?” A voice called from within the apartment.

“Who’s that?” Theo stretched to look behind Marie with a knot of worry, “Who’s in our home, Marie?”

“Oh, it’s Jesus,” Marie waved away the question, bangles jingling, “He’s helping me sort through some old clothes. Don’t change the subject!”

“I thought you didn’t believe in talking to Jesus,” Theo pressed, “You said it was a betrayal of your beliefs.”

Marie had attended a weekend meditation retreat just after they’d gotten engaged, and had since professed a deep faith in Zen Buddhism. Though, to Theo’s eyes, that faith had really only manifested in a large golden Buddha that appeared on the end table next to their door. He couldn’t fit his keys on that tabletop anymore.

Theo’s own religion was something of an open question. His parents had been raised Quaker, but had leaned so far into mushier aspects of the tradition that they’d both ended up agnostics. Theo himself had been raised on a steady diet of old National Geographics and sci-fi. Obi-Wan was the closest he’d had to a spiritual guide.

“Oh, who cares what I said,” Marie was undeterred, “He offered to help! He loves it—such an eye for fashion.” Marie cast an appraising eye over Theo’s rumpled khakis. She scrunched up her face.

“I sense some anger,” Jesus stepped out of the living room and stood next to Marie. “Is something the matter?” He held an old bra loosely in his left hand.

“Oh, I’m not keeping that one,” Marie turned to Jesus, “The wire’s all poke-y.”

Jesus lifted the bra closer to his face for inspection. He nodded approvingly, “Very well, my child.”

“Do you know what happened to Teddy today, Jesse?” Marie’s voice rose.

“Jesse?” Theo’s jaw felt like it was coming loose.

Jesus’s face turned solemn. “Yes, Marie, I have spoken to Theodore on these matters, and—”

“He was fired!” Marie burst out.

“I was let go. There’s a difference,” Theo demurred.

“Why were you fired, Teddy?” Marie directed her attention back at Theo, “You’re avoiding the topic.”

“Ask ‘Jesse.’”

“You’re always passing the responsibility off onto someone else, Teddy! What happens when there’s no one left, huh? What then?”

“I will always be there, Theodore,” Jesus interjected, “Always.”

Marie turned back to Jesus, “So what happened, Jesse? You might as well tell me, since I’m not going to get it out of this one.” She jerked her head at Theo.

Jesus clasped his hands together, bra pressed between them. “I assumed Theodore’s responsibilities at his former firm,” he said, “Frederick Tomas requested that I shoulder such burdens.”

Theo flinched at cloud of anger that had begun seeping out of Marie. He began edging towards the bedroom, leaving his cardboard box by the door.

“You did what?!” Marie shouted at Jesus, “Jesse, how could you? We needed him to have this job! Jesus Christ, Jesse, what’ll we do now? Who’s Frederick? How could you?”

Theo successfully escaped into the bedroom, still hearing the muffled call and response from the foyer through the closed door. He fell face-down onto the unmade bed and let out a long sigh into the sheets. Even as the sound was coming out of him, Theo could feel his eyelids drooping. He slipped into blissful sleep.

“Good morning to all of my dear children. It is seven o’clock on Sunday, June 7th. The high today will be seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit, with a low of sixty-three. Ready thyself for mild traffic coming into the city. We shall begin this glorious morning with Electric Light Orchestra’s Mr. Blue Sky. I am the Word of the Beginning, and I will be back with a guest after this.”

Theo groaned and slapped the snooze on the clock radio by his bed, “Marie?”

Hearing no answer, Theo looked up from his pillow with bleary eyes. The other side of the bed was empty and the blanket was tangled in a mess on the floor. Theo gathered up the sheets and settled back into his pillow. She must’ve gotten up to make breakfast. How nice. Theo fell back to sleep.

“—with rising unemployment, I think it’s really time to put the guaranteed income back onto the table. The growing consensus of economists, myself included, agree that this represents the only viable solution in a post-return America.”

“Thank you, Jessica. I am so glad you are able to join me today despite your daughter’s flu. It is trying for any parent to see her child suffer, and your resilience truly makes me proud.”

“Jesus, that’s very kind, but is it really relevant to share—”

“I apologize, Jessica. I strive to be conscious of my children’s burdens. Please, continue.”

“No, of course, and thank you for looking after her while I’m here. As I was saying, the case has never been stronger to implement a program of increased—”

Theo slapped the radio again. The room was just as before. Theo sniffed the air. Nothing. No music from the kitchen either.

“Huh,” Theo thought, “She’s probably on a run. It’s always some new exercise. We still have a hundred dollars on credit at that Pilates studio. I wonder if we could get a refund…”

Theo swiveled his feet out from under the covers to rest on the floor. It really was quiet. He needed a coffee. Should he make a pot? No, no. There was always too much left over, and Marie had been on his ass not to waste. Just a cup. Maybe a chocolate croissant? Oh, that sounded nice. He might as well go to a coffee shop. There hadn’t been much else for Theo to do in the week since Tomas had let him go.

Theo shrugged on a pair of pants and made his way to the door. He grasped for a few moments at the Buddha’s foot looking for his keys before remembering they were in the drawer underneath. With a quick glance at the mirror (he really did need a hair-cut), Theo stumbled into the hallway.

“Jesus?”

“Yes, dearest Theodore?”

“Where’s the barista?”

“Oh, my son, I can prepare your beverage. Catherine Khan has asked me to attend to this register for the foreseeable future.”

“Catherine? Agh, never mind. Can I get a large coffee and a croissant? Chocolate?”

“Yes, Theodore. That totals seven dollars.”

Theo winced. His severance had come in a few days after the meeting with Mr. Tomas. It was enough to make it through a month, maybe two at most. It’d be a stretch. Theo thought he might have to cut out coffee shops—hipster ones at least. And restaurants in general. Marie loved it when he cooked. It’s not like he had anything else to do.

Theo fished in his wallet for the cash. Jesus accepted the bills with a deep nod.

“Hey, is that not an issue for you? Handling money and shit?” Theo asked.

Jesus smiled tenderly, “Oh, dearest Theodore, you have such an inquisitive mind. I am very proud of the man you’re becoming.”

Jesus closed the register and gripped Theo’s hands with his own.

“Theodore, this was an issue I considered, but I concluded that the service I might render to my children outweighed any qualms about participating in commerce. Your coffee will be ready in a moment at the end of the counter.”

Theo yanked himself away from the register, “Please don’t touch me without asking. It’s kinda creepy.”

Jesus gave a caring look, “Theodore, I endeavor only to better your life.”

Theo mumbled something under his breath and walked to get his breakfast. The TV on the wall showed a panel discussing the appointment of Jesus as the new pope. Three of the five panelists were Jesus Christ himself.

When Theo pushed his way back into his apartment, it was still quiet.

“Marie?” he called out, “Honey, are you home?”

Nothing. Theo decided he’d sleep a bit longer before going out again. He’d stop and pick up groceries. Maybe fish tonight?

Theo laughed to himself, “I’ll make a beautiful fish.”

He dropped his keys into Buddha’s lap and walked back to the bedroom.

The bed was just as he’d left it. The sheets splayed out in an ever-rumpled swirl across the mattress. Theo didn’t remember the last time he’d made the bed. Marie usually did laundry, and the bed remained made for just about as long as it took to crawl into it that night. Theo actually preferred the unmade bed. It made the space feel lived-in—occupied—whereas a made bed, especially with Marie’s singing bowls and seaside paintings, had made the whole room feel like it could be taken from a catalogue snapshot. Theo remembered when she’d brought home that ghastly sailboat picture. Marie had said that she loved how “fucking tranquil that boat looks” and hung it up on the wall right above their headboard.

Where were the singing bowls? Their space on top of the dresser was empty, thin circles of dust marking where they’d sat. Marie never surrendered space in their apartment. The gold Buddha had only been one in a long chain of tchotchkes that seemed to sprout up on every exposed surface in the apartment since she’d moved in. Like mushrooms. Marie-shrooms. Theo chuckled. She’d get a kick out of that.

Theo noticed a note on her side of the bed, tucked half-under her pillow. He reached for it.

Teddy,

I’m sorry that things have come to this. I need to remove myself from our situation to improve the energies in my life. You’ve been dampening my spirit, and I must let myself free. I’m taking only the essentials from the apartment. Anything more would remind me too much of this closing chapter. I’ve been talking with Jesse about this for the last few days, and he knows why I’ve made this decision. I told him to answer any questions you have. I just can’t see you right now.

Goodbye Teddy,

Marie

Theo reread the note twice more, scanning for something, something, between the lines. He felt his eyes starting to dampen.

Theo closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He felt shrunk, like all of a sudden the room had begun to loom around him. Every object he could see felt inseparable from the time that had unfolded around it. The dresser, radio, the horrible sailboat—they all seemed to push in at him with reminders of Marie’s presence.

“Jesus Christ,” Theo whispered.

“Yes?” came the helpful response.

Theo whirled to see Jesus standing behind him.

“No, no, damnit, not you. The cuss, the swear word. I’m taking your damn name in vain,” Theo choked.

Jesus moved to embrace Theo in a hug, “Oh, dearest Theodore, even if you did not intend to call me, I feel your pain as if it were my own. I am here to help you through this moment.”

Theo pushed Jesus away, swallowing a sob, “Why didn’t you tell me? You saw me ten minutes ago at the coffee shop. Why? You just let me sit with that? You acted like everything was normal. And it isn’t normal, damnit! Is that fun for you, the dramatic irony? Are you getting off on this?”

Jesus’s face sank. He looked genuinely hurt, “Theodore, I am deeply sorry for the end of your relationship. It is most difficult when my children quarrel with one another. Marie asked me not to speak with you on this matter until you read her letter. I sought to respect her wishes, as I endeavor to respect yours.”

“But it says you talked to her! You’ve known about this for—god damnit, how long have you two been planning this? How could you keep me in the dark? How is that respecting my wishes?” Theo gasped.

“My child, I was simply an open ear to dear Marie. This decision was her own. I would not presume to intercede in the affairs between you two. She asked my confidence, and I could not withhold it. I am available to you in all of the same capacities. Theodore, I am here for you. Let me aid you.”

“No!” Theo shrieked, “No, fuck, we loved each other! I love her! Present tense, now. We had problems, maybe, but who doesn’t? I love her! We’d work through it. I- I could get better. How could you help her go? Why would she leave, why wouldn’t she talk to me first?”

Theo’s eyes focused on Jesus, “You know how to get in touch with her. I need a number, an address— something.”

Jesus opened his mouth to respond, but Theo continued, “No, I don’t even need that. Just poof in front of her, tell her that we need to talk. Please. Please…”

Theo crumpled onto the bed, head in his hands. He took several shuddering breaths. Jesus sat beside him. Christ’s shoulders slumped.

“Dearest Theodore, she does not wish to speak with you. Please, I cannot force any of my children to act against their own will,” Jesus begged, “Allow this to pass over you as a storm over a mountain. No matter how ferocious the winds, you shall remain. You are strong.”

“Could you just,” Theo plead, “could you just ask her?”

“I have done this, my sweet Theodore,” Jesus replied, “She has not agreed to speak. Even as I explained your grief, she remained steadfast. Ah, my child Marie is strong-willed.”

Theo looked up, “Just now, you mean? As we were sitting here?”

Jesus nodded, “Yes, my child. But do not fret, my undivided attention is with you.”

Theo felt his heart sink deeper, “Please, Jesus, I need to be alone right now. I need—I need to think. Just go away. I can’t talk right now.”

“Even if you cannot see me, I am always there, Theodore. I am your eternal guardian and watcher. I am with you.”

When Theo looked up again, he was alone in the bedroom.

Theo made fish.

A nice slow-baked salmon with some herbs. Some rice on the side. Theo was chopping carrots to simmer with some butter and spices while the fish finished up. He’d put on some Elliott Smith in the kitchen—the real depressing, mortality-pondering stuff. Theo could barely hear the thump of the knife against the cutting board over the music.

The day had passed in a daze. Theo kept himself moving, occupied with groceries, TV, cooking—anything to keep his mind off Marie. He’d spent a few hours sifting through job boards and emailing old bosses. Nothing. The Jesus economy was tight. Even the shitty retail jobs were all taken. Nobody needed a drudge right now. Not even Marie.

No. Stop it. Don’t wallow. Theo scraped a chopped carrot into a bowl and took out another to cut. He closed his eyes for a few moments to sway to the music.

“Dearest Theodore?” Theo heard the voice right behind his ear.

Theo dropped the knife clanging onto the counter, “Jesus, fuck, you scared me.”

Jesus cast a contrite look at Theo. He half-shouted to be heard over the speaker, “Dearest Theodore, your neighbors above, the darling Mr. and Mr. Bethany and their daughter Rowan, have requested that you lower the volume of your audio system. They are enjoying a movie night, and feel somewhat disturbed by the external sound.”

Theo scowled, “They can turn up their own TV. I’m busy. I like my music.”

Theo resumed chopping. Jesus nodded. He walked to the speaker on top of the refrigerator and slowly turned a dial to lower the music.

Theo felt some burbling and unintelligible knot rise inside of him. He looked over at Jesus: “Why did you do that?”

“Mr. and Mr. Bethany and their daughter Rowan are enjoying a movie night above you, and they asked me to—”

“No, I got that,” Theo turned away from the counter and confronted Jesus in a swift motion, “Why did you turn down the volume? I said I wasn’t going to lower it.”

“My dearest Theodore, I simply am here to help you—”

“No fucking way! I said I wasn’t going to lower it. Turn it back up,” Theo shouted.

“My child, you said you were busy with the cooking, I was merely giving—”

“NO! You’ll listen to them, you’ll listen to Marie, you’ll listen to fucking Mr. Tomas and what’s-her-face at the coffee shop and the radio station and who knows who else when they want to fire somebody, but you won’t listen to me?”

“Theodore, I—”

“Why, Jesus? Why? We were doing fine down here before you showed up? There was killing and raping and atrocities fucking galore, but we were doing it ourselves. We were figuring it out! What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Dearest, I could not stand to see the suffering of all of those on Earth, and I—”

“How could you help them hurt me? How could you push aside all the people who were making it work in the world? How could you? How…” Theo puttered off.

Jesus stepped closer to Theo and rested his hands on his shoulders. He pressed his forehead against Theo’s, “I am only helping. The wishes of my children are my own. I will act in service of all of you.”

“I SAID DON’T TOUCH ME,” Theo roared. He shoved Jesus’s face away with his right hand. He still held the knife.

With wide eyes, Jesus stumbled backwards. Blood spurted from his neck, where a ragged gash traced the line from Adam’s apple to collarbone. Theo felt the red splatter across his face. He tasted salt on his tongue.

Jesus fell backwards in a heap. Theo collapsed onto the floor. Theo yelled, a deep primal thing that left his throat ragged and his teeth tingling. He sobbed.

“Oh, my dearest Theodore. I am here. I am with you. I forgive you. I forgive you. I am here…”