Novelist and more.
Andrew Baxter, while siting with Gods and their chosen ones at a diner table in a cathedral filled with hundreds of others, was about to learn why he was chosen as an avatar when a disruption breaks out at another seating…
At a nearby table, rich and powerful looking men and women, mostly overweight, were shouting at an adjoining table of thin, sickly looking people with healthy food on their table while the wealthy were eating small little plates of exotic dishes. The poor were getting slightly healthier as they shouted back, and their plates filled with more sustenance. The wealthy were arguing over the size of the poor’s meals and appearance. As the poor fought back they became healthier, the wealthy on the other hand barely changed in appearance but they were louder and more obnoxious by the minute.
From the table of war, encouraging shouts and expletives were directed toward both tables, often from the same voices.
More tables began joining in on one side or the other.
“It never fails. Siblings and relatives can never get along at family diners.” Rickie sighed with a roll of his eyes.
The table of war began drumming on their table.
The wealthy demanded the poor’s avatars to “get a real job”.
The poor demanded the wealth’s avatars to “stop tearing their every efforts down.”
There were far more poor avatars and Gods than wealthy, yet the wealthy were louder and more clearly heard however few in number.
Ipo leaned over the table shouting at Sheehan to be heard, “We really need to discuss what our avatars need to do.”
Sheehan rolled her eyes, threw up her hands and turned around to face the tables, some were throwing food now.
War’s table was roaring and banging a cadence on their cups and plates.
“Please, could everyone be calm.” Sheehan’s voice was a whisper amid the cacophony.
Everyone ignored her.
She tried again, “Truly, can we just eat; tell our avatars what we need them to do and have a peaceful productive diner?”
Once again she was ignored.
She sighed, “Really everyone, I don’t want to raise my voice.”
If it was possible, the level of noise and mayhem increased.
Ipo tapped Andrew on the shoulder.
He motioned for Andrew and the other human avatars to cover their ears as he grinned happily, the others at the table did as he wished.
Andrew thought, for whatever reason, it might be a good idea to do the same.
“Please, I’m asking nicely.” Sheehan’s voice was hardly audible.
A wave of power grew beside him as Sheehan increased in height and size.
It felt like a sandstorm coming in waves, tables overturned and meals flew through the air. Avatars screamed in fear and hid behind their Gods. Other Gods shouted in protest against Sheehan. War’s table was tossed in the air and their angry voices fell to a mish mash of scattered noise. Even Gods crawled under tables. The walls shook from the tangible waves of power. It was a hurricane force tornado in the enclosed space.
Sheehan’s voice boomed from every direction.
“NOW THAT I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, WOULD EVERYONE PLEASE CALM DOWN AND DO WHAT WE CAME HERE TO DO. FOR ONCE, JUST ONCE, CAN WE GET TOGETHER AND NOT ERUPT INTO CHAOS? IT’S NOT LIKE WE DO THIS THAT OFTEN. NOW DO I NEED TO SAY ANYTHING MORE?”
The pulsating power continued then suddenly everything stopped.
Sheehan returned to her previous stature, the tables were neatly arranged, food replaced on each dish. No mess, the avatars at other tables cowered in fear, some of the Gods coming out of hiding themselves and returning quietly to their seats.
Ipo laughed lightly whispering to the humans, “To some, Peace is much more terrifying than her brother War.”
Instinct made Andrew throw up his hand as an object flashed toward Sheehan’s turned back.
To be continued…