CHAPTER 1
Whether it was Yahweh’s bait and switch during Abraham’s sacrifice, Shiva’s cosmetic revenge on Ganesha or Zeus giving Leda the bird, the Gods have always loved a good joke.
Good, of course, is a matter of interpretation.
But isn’t everything.
You do believe in Gods, right? I’m using the plural here because if you believe God’s First Commandment said, “Thou shalt have no other Gods before me,” . . . well, I guess, that could be a matter of interpretation, too.
But along with playing jokes on humans, do you think the Gods wonder about the things humans do in their Name? You know. That God’s Will line? The God’s Will line that can motivate or excuse any action? And if they wonder about it, do you think they talk about it? And if they talk about it, do you think they talk about Getting Even?
If you believe the writings, the Gods Got Even a lot in the old days. In the old days, Gods Got Even calling down everything from plagues to floods. Politicians and preachers seem to be the revenge of choice today.
But I started this off by writing that the Gods love a good joke.
And if a good joke, like the Gods themselves, is a matter of interpretation; what would be a good joke to Get Even nowadays?
CHAPTER 2
Bert n’ Bertha’s Barbeque
Ft. Lauderdale, Florida
Reverend Loquacious Burger King Barnum loved hating White people almost as much as he loved good ribs.
He also loved Lavitra Lynn Beaudry’s smile.
Lavitra’s Grandmother had told her that her smile was God showing off.
Mrs. Mabel Washington had taken Lavitra in after the girl’s father left her mother Clamydia, for Lavitra’s aunt and Lavitra’s mother left her to enroll in The God Smiles Upon You Dental Assistant School. Lavitra’s mother chose dental assistantry because she thought the uniforms were much prettier than the ones Lavoris Clemmons wore at the old White folks’ beauty parlor, The Curl Up & Dye.
Bert Mitchell had loved Lavitra’s smile, too, and wanted her face framed by his drive-up window when the White suburban husbands wheeled their SUV’s up for a bucket of ribs. Bert knew what these boys wanted when their wives hit the malls, and Lavitra’s smile would give them something to dream about until their mates got home.
Rabbi Daniel Sachs removed his yarmulke, sucked in his gut and smoothed his razor-cut hair. As Principal at Temple Bet Yur Boots Hebrew School in Boca Raton, the Progressive Rabbi beamed his best Parents’ Night smile as he pulled up to the window.
“How yew doin’?” His normally dull New Jersey vowels always lengthened to a down-home drawl whenever he spoke to Black people.
“Awright,” Lavitra smiled.