What in God's Name: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

happened?
    “I’m sorry for interrupting,” Eliza said. “But it said there was a potential loss of life.”
    God motioned for her to take a seat and turned up the volume on his television.
    “You like racing?” he asked. “This is a big one—Bayne’s going for his second straight win at Daytona.”
    Eliza nodded awkwardly. “If you’re not too busy,” she said, “I think you should take a look at the tsunami. It seems like a pretty urgent situation.”
    “Move, Bayne! Finish strong! I’m sorry, what?”
    “It seems like an urgent situation.”
    God nodded. “You’re right. I’ll intervene.”
    Eliza exhaled with relief. “Thank you.”
    God opened his e-mail account and tapped out a message to Vince, typing with two outstretched index fingers. Then he leaned back in his chair, grabbed the remote, and turned up the television as loud as it would go.
    “Bayne and Collins are neck and neck!” the announcer shouted. “Collins is making a push…a big push! He’s three lengths ahead…he should win this one easily and…oh, no! He’s down! His car has flipped end over end! He’s escaped the wreckage, but he’s on fire…wow…he really seems to be in a lot of pain. Looks like Trevor Bayne is the winner. Although I’m sure he didn’t want to win like this.”
    God chuckled.
    “Sir,” Eliza said. “When you said you were going to intervene…were you talking about the car race or the tsunami?”
    God made eye contact with her for the first time. “What tsunami?”
    Something on the TV caught his eye. “Hey—they’re interviewing Bayne!”
    The racer lifted a trophy over his head and leaned toward a cluster of microphones. “I just want to thank God for this victory,” he began. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”
    God clapped his hands. “Did you hear that? Did you hear what he just said?”
    Eliza forced a smile. “Yeah. Neat.”
    “Man…I love that Bayne guy.”
    God turned off the television.
    “Okay,” he said. “I’m sorry. Where’s the earthquake?”
    “It’s a tsunami. And I’m not sure where it is—it just said ‘possible.’ It came in this morning, around seven?”
    God stroked his chin. “Probably too late to stop it. I tell you what: I’ll inform my prophet.”
    He turned the television back on and flipped to a new channel. A wiry man in rags stood by the side of a highway, holding a cardboard sign.
    Eliza squinted incredulously at the screen. “That’s your prophet?”
    God nodded. “I’ll tell him to warn the people with a sign. Something blunt, like ‘The End Is Near.’”
    Eliza stared at the screen. The filthy man waved at her.
    “God,” she whispered, “with all due respect…couldn’t you have picked a better prophet?”
    God shrugged. “What’s wrong with Raoul?”
    “I just feel like if you sent your messages through a scientist, say, or a president, more people would pay attention.”
    “I’ve been giving Raoul the straight dope since he was seventeen. If the humans don’t want to listen to him, that’s their problem.”
    The telephone rang and God scooped up the receiver.
    “Yeah, three o’clock’s good. Let’s just play nine this time, though. My back’s killing me.”
    Raoul winked at Eliza. “Hey, pretty lady,” he said.
    She turned away from the screen.
    “Don’t worry about the tsunami,” God told her, holding his palm over the phone. “I’ve got everything taken care of.”
    Eliza nodded wearily and shuffled across the carpet. She was almost out the door when she spotted something odd. In the corner of God’s office was a giant stack of papers, a towering column that was nearly as tall as she was. She squinted at the heap and noticed that the pages had a familiar red tint. It was a pile of prayers—all 7s.
    Eliza suddenly felt dizzy. She slipped out the door, got into the elevator, and rode down to 17.
    When the doors slid open, she cringed at the burst of fluorescent light. The floor was packed with Angels now,