[Overthrow, Travel]

  I’d opened the packet of information I’d received from the department of missing family. Granddad had been here but he'd departed four years ago. I was getting tantalizingly close. But for weeks we’d been trying to take this regime down, crowds outside the churches were growing but they were at best a third of the size of the actual faithful that seemingly prayed twenty four seven. I didn’t want a repeat of the violence we’d witnessed so we committed ourselves to toning down the rhetoric even if it took years, it was still better than allowing innocent people to be injured.

  The next play was a direct attack on the god who was so egotistical he required everyone of his followers to agree with everything he said. No matter how crazy that was. The god would be jeered at by the audience, but this god didn’t address the audience directly, nor did he reference the fact that he’d stolen their free will along with their organs.

  Nyxi had taken to hissing at Angel time anytime she entered the house. This really seemed to unnerve Angel. She carried a copy of a script I’d written, but copied by an actor from another troupe. If she was smart enough to ask for handwriting samples, she'd find no match here.

  “Jaq, what do you know about this?”

  “What is it, Angel?”

  “It’s a sacrilegious portrait of our god, that I’ve seen being performed by an ‘acting troupe’. They are to be arrested and put on trial.”

  “What law have they broken?”

  “They mock our God.”

  “When I entered heaven through the Pearly Gates Saint Peter said to me “There are no more rules Jaq, your only job is to enjoy your afterlife and praise god, which of course makes you enjoy your afterlife. It is a self fulfilling circle.” Angel, are you putting yourself over the gate keeper? Are you now saying that Saint Peter lied to me, when he said that there were no more rules.” Are you now the gatekeeper Angel?”

  “Our god must not be mocked, Must Not?”

  “Why Angel, does mocking a god undermine their power? If that’s the case Angel, they must be a very weak god. Have you ever heard the human saying “Sticks and Stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Humans teach it to children. Only children strike each other over words. Is God a child? Angel, my friends often mocked me before I came to heaven about my small breasts, I knew they were only teasing me out of love. I miss seeing them, I miss the teasing. Perhaps God feels the same way, have you spoken to God, or do you now presume to speak not only for Saint Peter but for God himself?”

  “I never liked you, I marked you as a troublemaker from the start bringing a demonic cat here to heaven.”

  “Perhaps that is why Nyxi has taken to hissing at you, cats are very sensitive, I’m sure she must feel the aggression emanating from you.”

  She huffed and fled. I heard the front door slam. She’d be back, I had no doubt about that. Meanwhile everything I wrote, now mocked God. And his bizarre need to be praised, the churches, the candle rack but mostly the Angels, who never had organs to lose, so could never understand their loss.

  One of my newer plans involved music, we’d take popular songs and either mock the god or the angels or the church, sometimes all three, depending on the lyrics, then we’d teach the songs to anyone who might enjoy singing outside the churches. Not as impactful as a play, but a catchy tune with a good lyric could get stuck in a media starved brain for days.

  As I did more and more song lyrics I learned that the most repetitious make the best earworms. Everyday, more people stayed just outside of the church, enjoying whatever was going on more than the somber mumbling going on inside.

  After about a month we had more people outside the church, in fact it was getting difficult for the drivers to move the faithful or the entertainers around. I was pretty sure that we were at a critical mass now, no way to stop this unless some draconian measures were employed by his followers, or by the God himself.

  But if he had any real power, wouldn’t he have acted by now? The fact that he/she hadn’t gave me a strong inclination to believe that he just plain couldn’t. I don’t know if any portals opened for us in the living room, the god may not have been overthrown but he was openly mocked by a majority of the population now.

  If prayer actually made him powerful, that power was cut by more than half. I called a meeting to decide what everyone thought the best course would be.

  “I have a proposal I’d like to make. I don’t know if it’ll work but we’ve been here a long time, and Tregaron time runs differently. I’ve never been inside for more than five days and that was stretched to two weeks in Tregaron and shrunk to ten minutes, once it was the one to one, five days in the tower, five days in Tregaron. I could go to Peter and ask him to expel us, then we’d have to work backwards and wait by the chasm for a portal to open. Do you guys want to stay here and overthrow this god or would you rather try our chances in the tower. The tower might be dangerous because we have a limited amount of food and water, we could die waiting for the tower to open back up.”

  “Personally Jaq, I’m mad they stole my favorite organ, but think of all those suckers, giving praise to the guy who did it. Can we just abandon them, to an eternity of praising the guy, who’s trapped them here? I vote we keep up the pressure, I feel like we’re getting closer, each and every day.”

  “Frida, what do you think?”

  “I feel the same as Groucho, let’s continue doing what we’re doing, as long as necessary even if it takes years at least we’re together.”

  “Okay, that’s what we’ll do then.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  ***

  It wasn’t just us writing stuff being sung, staged, read aloud, another month had rolled by and now the streets were impassable to vehicles. The faithful praying were down to about twenty five percent of the population.

  Even if the god wanted to threaten the seventy five percent now actively refusing to pray, how do you threaten someone who has absolutely nothing. Ninety nine percent of the population was homeless, they didn’t eat so you couldn’t starve the people out.

  They could come in and beat them into submission, but that wouldn’t likely inspire the beaten to pray again. I thought of something that would keep church praying down to about ten percent. The seventy five percent would occupy every space, every step allowing access, and wouldn’t move to allow people into a church, but they did move for the people trying to exit the church.

  After a week it’d spread from our closest church to all the churches across Literal Heaven. Now ninety percent of the people sat outside denying access to the very few people who were trying to enter.

  I can only assume that the ten percent must have been some of the earliest inhabitants and just really didn’t know what to do besides stand and pray twenty four seven. At one point a group of twenty or so angels had arrived at our church and attempted to enter the church, there was such a mass of people in their way that the angels eventually just gave up and walked away.

  Another month passed and the faithful were down to about five percent. This is probably the slowest revolution that has ever occurred, but at least no one was being physically hurt. When some of the oldest of the still faithful were trying to exit, I’d see the ninety five percent actively helping them down the stairs and out of the church.

  ***

  This was over, I just had a feeling that we should get home, I had a feeling a portal would open anytime now. So we walked home, the limo had been abandoned a month ago when the driver had joined us.

  When the portal finally opened it felt almost anticlimactic. A peaceful protest had overthrown a god. But it highlighted just how hard it is to do without mass media. The power of TV had transformed heaven in just two days. This had taken months, with no sleep, six months of eight hour days of protest. I just hope years haven’t gone by in Tregaron. I hefted the knapsack, Frida picked up Nyxi, we linked hands with Groucho and the three of us walked through the portal and practically banged into Draco and Harry, who were walking away from the tower.

  “Hey, Draco, Harry.”

  “Oh great Jaq, I was afraid the portal would close before you got back with the info. Was the Colonel ever in Literal Heaven.”

  “Yes but he left four years ago. How long have we been gone? Harry.”

  “We just arrived a minute before you and haven’t seen anyone yet, so your guess is as good as ours.”

  I replied “But Frida Groucho and I were in there for months.”

  “No Jaq, Groucho came back with us.” Harry said.

  “Yeah, I did but Nyxi jumped back into the portal so I went after her and we were months. Hey, I have to go to the bathroom, what a great feeling.” Groucho stuck his hand down his pants and a wide grin covered his face. “My most favorite organ is back and bigger than ever. Jaq, how about you did your knockers grow any? Nope I guess not, they might look even smaller. Want me to play with them with my feet, they may grow, like kneaded bread puffs up.”

  “Very funny Groucho, I’m starving. I hope they’re having something good for supper. I’ll see you tonight at dinner. I’m headed to the bath.”

  ***

  Frida and I were enjoying a delightful bubble bath, and having all our organs back, when I heard the pop.

  “Oh I see you two are enjoying yourself.”

  “Nyx, we’re naked, come on.”

  “Oh please it’s not like I haven’t seen you naked plenty of times, and hush I want to talk to your girlfriend not you. Frida, what did we decide are you torturing me or are we torturing Jaq tonight? I brought the faux fur lined handcuffs, we can use them either way.”

  “Oh, Nyx, it’s definitely you in the hot seat tonight, did you bring the feathers.”

  “No, a riding crop, I was hoping you’d pick me. I’ve been a bad girl and need to be punished.”

  “Oh, you’ll be punished all right, Nyx, I feel like I’ve been waiting months for this.”

  “I know what you mean, it’s been on my mind all day, what color gown are you wearing tonight, do you want to switch and wear my green one from last night and let me wear your red one? Jaq, do you want my hair up or down?”

  “Wait, we had dinner last night?”

  “Sure don’t you remember Groucho and I making you blush, we must have boiled your brain if you can’t remember that.”

  “We were in the tower for months, but it was less than a day, here in Tregaron, that’s amazing.”

  “Yes but good for you Jaq, I’ll be charging interest on missed torture sessions, you can’t welch on a demon Jaq, it’s just not good form. Frida you didn’t say no so I swapped the dresses, I bet you’ll look fantastic in that dress. I’ll go so you two can have sex again before dinner. I’ll meet you back here after I get dressed. Red on a demon is a little cliche but it’s cliche because it’s a classic.” With a pop she was gone.