od said, "Gabe, I'm just a bit worried. Old Michael has asked for an audience with me, something he's never done before."
Usually, when Old Michael needed to speak with God, he would to send word for God to drop by his office the first chance he got, since God refused to keep office hours hisself.
"When is he coming?" I asked.
"Any time now."
"Should I make myself scarce?"
"No, you stay, unless he asks you to leave."
Now, as Archangel, Mr. Michael runs heaven. His word is law unless God countermands it, and he's never been known to do that. That's the way God wants it, because it leaves him free to do whatever he pleases.
Mr. Michael looks the part. If you was a stranger just wandering around and you happened to see them together, it'd be easy to mistake Mr. Michael for God. Because God, unless he is presiding at court, which he despises to do, is dressed casually and is just ordinary-looking. Mr. Michael, on the other hand, is tall, ram-rod straight and has a full white beard. He wears a long snow-white robe with gilt trim and from his neck hangs the golden badge of his office. He cuts a regal figure.
But not today. Today his back was bent, his shoulders sagged and he looked old and tired.
"What's the problem, old friend?" God asked concerned.
Mr. Michael took the badge from around his neck and solemnly placed it on the table in front of God. "I must resign my office," he said.
"No way."
"Yes. I have failed in my duty. I have made an error, and therefore I must resign."
"We all make mistakes,' God said.
"I don't," Mr. Michael said, "at least, not till now."
"Pull up a chair and tell me about it."
"You know the Watchers? You asked for angels, I furnished you scum."
"Now, what you done was perfectly right. The job didn't call for your high grade staff, and it was wise not to tie them up like that. Besides, the last I heard, the Watchers was doing just fine."
"Then I'm afraid you haven't heard the last. Some of the Watchers have been, ah, ah, diddling some of the young girls!"
"Diddling?"
Mr. Michael's mouth tightened. "I refer to carnal knowledge," he said.
"Oh, diddling !" God said.
"Yes, and now, it seems, there are offspring."
"Well now, you wouldn't have thought was possible, would you?"
"No, I wouldn't. I sent them down there without fully knowing the situation, and that was my error. And that is why I must resign.
"Wait," God said. "Now, think back a minute. Who was it made the Watchers?"
"Why, you did."
"And to your specifications, I believe."
"Yes."
"And did you ask me to give them the ability to diddle?" God asked with a perfectly straight face.
"No, of course not."
"So now, just whose mistake was it?"
Mr. Michael wasn't about to answer that, but his face brightened and his shoulders squared and after a while he stood and picked up his badge of office and put it back on. "Good day to you," he said and departed in all his usual splendor.
"Diddled!" God said, when he had gone. "Now where do you reckon he come up that word?" But then the smile left him. "This could be serious business, Gabe. I ought to have been informed?"
"You was. I handed you the report myself and suggested you ought to look at it. You pitched it in your in-basket, as I recall. It's probably still there."
"Well, I expect I was busy. It seems I never have a minute any more. Never mind," he said when I started to look for it, "just tell me about it. What I'm really interested in is how the offspring turned out?"
"Terrible. They're giants, freaks. And mean as snakes, some of them."
"That's really disappointing. I was hoping they'd be an improvement on the human race."
"Well, they ain't. It looks like they inherited the worst of both sides. And they're way too smart to be running around loose. They've even learned how to crossbreed animals, and they're turning out all kinds of monsters."
"How long has this been going on?"
"Our time? A few hours. Earth time? Several generations."
God stared into space for a bit. "You know, Gabe, I'm really sorry I ever started this whole thing. It's just been one big pain after another. It seems like nothing turns out the way you want it to. And this is the last straw, all mankind corrupted by Watcher blood or soon will be, and the creatures tainted, too. I might as well get rid of the whole lot and be done with it."
"Wait. Just think of all the work you've put into this. It would be a shame to just throw it away. There may still be some that haven't been corrupted. Destroy the rest but keep them. It would be like starting over. A new Adam and Eve, so to speak. A new beginning."
God looked off in the direction of Earth. Maybe he was thinking about Eden before the Fall, where he used to stroll in the cool of the evening with Adam on one side and Eve on the other. "Go look," he said.
I did. And finally found what I was looking for. "His name is Noah," I said, "And his generation is pure all the way back to Adam."
"Noah?" God said.
"Methesulah's grandson. You remember Methesulah."
"Oh, yes, old Methesulah. He must be getting on up in years now."
"Well on his way to being the oldest man that ever lived," I said.
"Tell me about this Noah," God said. "You say he's a righteous man?"
"No, I said he was pure in his generation. But righteous? You'd have to say, compared to what? Compared to his neighbors, yes. Compared to, say, his great-grandpa Enoch, far from it. He's a farmer. He's got three sons, all married and to the right sort. He keeps the Sabbath, even on rare occasions leaves a little something on the altar by way of a sacrifice. He looks out for hisself. What can I say?"
"And he's the only one you could find?"
"Well, there's Methuselah, of course, but, as you say, he's getting on."
"Then it looks like Noah, don't it, him and his family."
"How are you going to do it?" I asked.
"Do what?"
"Destroy the rest."
"I hadn't thought. What do you suggest, fire or flood?"
I just looked at him.
"You're right, Gabe. It's my responsibility. I made them. It's up to me to unmake them. All right, it'll be by flood.
"What about the Watchers? A flood won't touch them."
"Have all of them been misbehaving?"
"No, only a few."
"Well, have old Michael send his top angels down and pick up the malefactors, and they can cool their heels in jail until I decide what to do with them. The rest let's recall. I'm going to have to do a little repair job on them before we turn them loose among humans again.
"And Noah?"
"He's going to need a boat."
"And the animals?
"It needs to be a big boat."
"And feed for Noah and his family and the animals?"
"It better be a whopper !"
So God commanded Noah to build an ark and load it with two of every kind of living thing, and then Noah and his family got aboard. And God slammed down the lid and opened up the windows of heaven, and, Lord, didn't it rain!
