A Little Lady Named God

by Luke Brett

(Lights up on a cozy kitchen, complete with counter and sitting area. The counter has a good looking tomato on it. There is a wooden chair with a quilt hung over the back of it by a matching wooden table. GOD shuffles in, holding a cooking tray. GOD is facing away from the audience, having used her legs and butt to open the door she came through. GOD is determined and excited, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth as she shuffles to the counter, keeping her arms wides and her back bent. For a second, she lifts her head out to the audience)

GOD:
(Perkily) Oh no, don't get up!

(GOD finally steers her body and the cooking tray to be behind the counter and centered, then slams the cooking tray down triumphantly, exhaling with satisfaction. GOD takes a breath in as she momentarily regards the tray)

GOD:
I'm making a quiche!

(GOD smiles proudly at the audience, gauging their reaction. GOD squints and sticks her chin out)

GOD:
Oh, because you wouldn't?

(GOD shakes her head, not surprised but a little resentful. GOD fishes through a drawer and retrieves a knife and cutting board. GOD begins dicing the tomato)

GOD:
That's one of the biggest criticisms people have about me, is that I don't take suggestions. Which I think says a lot more about people than it does about me. But! You know...

(GOD pops a bit of tomato into her mouth and chews it happily)

GOD:
What are we gonna do, pretend the other doesn't exist? You know? We're all here. You're here.

(GOD has a moment of realization)

GOD:
Do you-

(GOD comes out from behind the counter and comes to the stage edge to be closer to the audience)

GOD:
You do know all the- the particulars, right? Where you are and why you're here and what I'm- well, the quiche isn't part of it. I mean, you could have some. But.

(GOD begins gesturing with her index fingers during all of the following words)

GOD:
You know you're not...on Earth...anymore. Right?

(GOD pauses, gets no response)

GOD:
Oh, you've been sucked out. Just...astrally-

(GOD tries to make a hand gesture to simulate astral projection, but it comes off as just a noodley “raise the roof”)

GOD:
Unlocated. And now you're beyond it all. With me! God.

(GOD laughs and smiles pleasantly, then turns her head back over to the cutting board slowly)

GOD:
I'm just gonna do this while we talk? If that's- Okay, great.

(GOD busily crosses behind the counter and gets an apron from a drawer, gripping the knife and going back to dicing as she goes through the following monologue)

GOD:
So you've been sucked out, as I like to call it, and it's just the two of us. Just you and me. I know. But honestly, just treat this like- like you're coming home from school. You know? That's all it is. School! It's important, they make you do a million things, everybody's all bleh, but you know in your gut that all the important stuff comes after. Or at least you hope so. So that's all it is, it's all just a day at school. Not so bad, right? I know, that's easy for me to say, I don't go to school. But I- well. I'm knowledgeable. And now you're home from school. It's hard, isn't it? Yeah. Now I know- I can feel when certain things are coming on, and I realize you've got questions. But the fact is, I don't give advice anymore. Because that's how wars get started. And that sounds like unaccountability, but, nine times out of ten, when I tell somebody to have a nice day? They take it SO seriously they go out and kill anybody who's having a bad one. Can you imagine? I know you don't have to imagine, I'm not a moron. But you get it. The stakes. Sometimes I just...I feel the need, as I'm sure we all do, to either never talk again or just say everything. And I can't do both at once, so I compromise.

(GOD goes to put the knife away behind the counter, then pops back up)

GOD:
You don't need to interpret that.

(GOD points to the audience, indicating with her eyes that she is very for real about that)

GOD:
Just makin' a quiche here. Also, nothing is beyond you. Don't be intimidated. What am I saying? Do what you want. Also, you know what's a lie? Me knowing you. Don't you think that's condescending? Me knowing you? I mean, who knows anybody? Who...

(GOD gets into a little bit of a tizzy about this one, closing her eyes and gesturing up and out with her hands in verklempt twists)

GOD:
Who knows anybody? I don't know you! All the invisible levels of you? You're so different and young and old and...loud-when-you-don't-want-to-be. I don't know you. I don't know you. I just really feel like I know you, you know what I mean? You're that person. For a moment. I feel like I know you and I haven't been able to get that out of my head for billions of years. Do you feel like you know me? We don't have to go down this road. I think total intimacy is a dragon chase. We can all just stop.

(GOD prepares to put the tomato slices into the cooking tray, lifting the cutting board where the slices rest. GOD tilts the cutting board. GOD catches the tomato slices in a handful and then squeezes them, squeezing and squeezing until juice and segments are play-dohing through her fingers. Some of it lands in the tray, some stays on her hand, some lands on the counter. GOD looks at the audience like what she's doing is mighty and awesome)

GOD:
I'm not ashamed of my aimlessness.

(GOD sees that many people in the audience are not okay with that statement, then decides to double down on it)

GOD:
Thumbs were an accident. Did you know that? Did you know that thumbs were an accident? Thumbs. I've been called worse, you can call me a liar. It doesn't matter. I was trying to make something else. And then-- it was that thing, where you're coming up with something and you do it really fast because you know that it's going to be perfect, so you don't look, because you feel like you're creating something perfect for the first time in your life, so suddenly you believe in magic, and you don't wanna look, because you don't know how magic works and looking might be what kept you from this new magic all your life, and you're just blindly going because your purpose depends on it. And then it's done, and it's out. And a second later, you look down and you're like, “Wait, what?” And that was thumbs. Completelyyyy...thought I was doing something else. And I won't tell you what it was. But yeah. Thumbs.

(GOD gives a thumbs up to the audience to indicate that being aimless is just fine. GOD takes a dish towel from a drawer handle to wipe off her hand)

GOD:
As God, I am not satisfaction. You must not think of me in that way, in those terms, or you will never find me and you will think you find me in places where I'm not. Satisfaction is not an end. I am not an end. I have been slandered. I have been slandered. By the loudest voices in the world. And that slander is repeated even in the quietest places, in solitude. Repeated so privately and so quietly that it has stayed, like dust on a stone. I have questions and that's why I have conversations. I don't get my questions...zipped up or bandaged or kissed and made all better when I have those conversations, but I get to ask my questions and that's better than pretending to have an answer. I'm not mad at anybody here. I'm not upset, I'm just upset. And you seemed disappointed when I told you that you couldn't ask for advice. Well, some of you did. Him, that guy over there, he was like, “Ha! Knew it.” And so I just felt called out. Y'know? I felt called out and I felt like I needed to give a little more. Some secret thoughts. Some truth. It doesn't always sound like the truth, but if the truth just sounded like the truth, well, I don't know what that would be like.

(GOD reaches under the counter, pulls out a heavy old cookbook, plunks it down and opens it)

GOD:
You might think the truth is kind of useless. No, seriously! You might! You would not be alone. Lots of people, funny people, people you feel like you really know, they go, “Truth? Pbbbbbbt. What do I care? I've gotta wake up tomorrow morning.” People feel that way. But it isn't really a feeling, if I had to call it anything I'd call it, “rest,” but you never get real rest. Not that way. Because the truth is that there's more going on. That's the truth. There's more going on. There's more going on than we know how to admit. Sometimes, because we can't admit what's going on, we think that means it's okay not to try. You have to admit what's going on. You won't get to all of it, but it's important. I know. So start now. Because more goes on everyday. The truth isn't everything that's going on, but it's some of what's going on, and you're gonna need that. Even when you're really alone, when you admit what's going on, it helps to have somebody agree with you. And that's what I do. Things like that.

(GOD looks back down into the cookbook)

GOD:
“One part egg, two parts liquid dairy,” that's kind of hilarious. Like, what, am I gonna vaporize the milk and then spray it in? Who wrote this?

(GOD checks the cover of the cookbook)

GOD:
Ah. “Isabel Gordon Curtis.”

(GOD gives the audience a knowing look like she could tell pretty fucked up stories about Isabel Gordon Curtis, then goes back to the page she needs)

GOD:
Oh, and yes, I've made quiches before, but you're never too good to go back, you know? “Partially bake the crust before filling to ensure that the crust and the custard are perfectly done at the same time.” I remembered that part. I'm gonna backtrack here for a second, because I think I let a few people down. I want to own up to something, ya know, just- there's an elephant in the room so let's talk about it. Just now, when I said, “the truth isn't everything that's going on,” I could tell that a few people were disappointed. Yeah? I know. Because some people are like that! Some people really do want to know everything that's going on. There are people who would like to know everything that's going on. And honestly? (Smirks) I think that's kinda cool. I do! I think that's kind of cool. People usually make fun of that person, a lot, but I- I just think it's kinda cool. So if you are that person, and you're thinking, “I do want to know everything that's going on,” I could tell you. I could get into it. I could tell you the secrets the human race doesn't even know it's missing! I could get as specific and deep and thorough as you wanted. I could tell you everything that is going on everywhere with everyone and what they're thinking and what it all means and what everything is doing and why it is the way it is and how it got that way, but then that information would expire...quickly.

(GOD pauses and gives an inquisitive “yeah?” nod to the audience)

GOD:
Because it would be behind! It would be old. It wouldn't be “going on” anymore! There would be five new minutes that I didn't cover! And that doesn't sound like much, but when you've got the entire ant farm of previous reality to build off of, those tunnels can really multiply! I'd spend five minutes telling you everything and by the time I wrapped up there'd be five minutes of macroscale, microscale human endeavor! Birth, death, ideas, new songs, new books, planetary drift, rebellions, extinctions, decay in every single form, a new species of plant, new people, new names, friendships ending! And I'm not even gonna talk about the ocean.

(GOD covers her face with both hands for a second. The ocean is a whole thing)

GOD:
But you get it, right? Even if I told you everything, it wouldn't be perfect information. So what you really want is an ongoing updated report on everything that's happening all the time, and I don't want you to feel bad for asking, but that's an unfair expectation.

(GOD returns her full focus to the cooking book by Isabel Gordon Curtis but doesn't quite get there because she doesn't like something she just said. GOD looks at the audience)

GOD:
But I'm not fair either.

(GOD looks at the audience for a beat)

GOD:
I don't even come close to being fair. If you've ever thought I wasn't fair...you're right. And even if you've been afraid to think it, you still thought it. Or maybe you think I don't exist! Well maybe you don't exist, maaaaaaaaaaan. We could do this all day.

(GOD looks back down at the cookbook)

GOD:
Um, quiche. Step 3! “Filling must be cooked through and fairly dry. Aim for a cup each of cheese and cooked ingredients.” I don't even think I'm gonna eat this. (Shakes head) God forsaken quiche.

(GOD looks up at the audience to see if anyone laughed at the joke. If people did, GOD smiles on them. GOD then smiles on an audience member who did not laugh)

GOD:
If you're getting tired of me, that's totally normal. That's totally normal! People get tired of me. The big myth is that that's not okay, but, I get it. You're forgiven. People do get tired of me, because I go on and on. But I wanted to keep you company. That's another...thing that I do. It doesn't sound like much but it's really important to me. It's the thing that I've...always known that I wanted to do. I felt like you needed it. That was the first thing I knew. I remember that. I remember that being the first thing I knew.

(GOD coyly and observantly closes the cookbook, confirming through eye contact with the audience that she is indeed going to talk about when She began)

GOD:
I know you want to know when I started to exist. And how. How did that happen?! And it's never...gosh, I never talk about it. And it bugs everybody! Right? “Where did I come from.” There's supposed to be a beginning. There's supposed to be a beginning. Even though we've never known what our beginning was, we know there is supposed to be one. Somewhere. We just think there has to be one. “Everything has to have a beginning!”

(GOD looks out at the audience like that's an amazing assumption)

GOD:
Or maybe it didn't.

(GOD takes a beat to let the audience sit with that thought)

GOD:
No one seems to have a pretty good answer. If you ask, uh...the people who follow the bossiest religions, you say, “Where did the universe come from?” “God!” “Where did God come from?” “Well we don't really know, but a few of us have weird, private guesses.” If you ask a scientist, it goes like this: “Where did the universe come from?” “Heat!” “...where did the heat come from?” “Well we don't really know, but a few of us have weird, private guesses.” It is so sidesteppy. How has it gotten so sidesteppy? I've heard- okay, this is obviously only one of the many things I've heard- but I've heard some interesting thinnnngs about, y'know, energy in a constant state of flux and...recurring shapes and patterns that suggest everything is living inside a bigger version of itself while being the universe for a smaller version of itself, and, oh, ya know... galaxies looking like brain cells and the cosmic web looking like a human brain and, “what does that mean?” and those are all interesting in their own way, but they sure don't tell you where anything comes from. Nothing covers how the universe got started. And where I came from, since I created the universe, is still this really huge secret.

(GOD looks out at her audience, drawing out the suspense for a smidge longer)

GOD:
(Dead serious) I woke up in a bag.

(GOD doubles over with laughter, waving her hands)

GOD:
I'm kidding, I'm kiiiiiidding, I'm kidding! I'm kidding. I'm kidding, God.

(GOD regains her composure and stops laughing at her weird joke)

GOD:
What, would three bags be more believable? What do you want? There's no...look, there's no version of “First there was nothing, then something showed up,” that is going to make sense to you. It wouldn't make sense to you. Get over it. I got here. I'm not gonna tell you much about it.

(GOD looks away as if she's truly put the matter to rest, then puts the back of her hand by her mouth like she's telling a secret)

GOD:
But it felt great.

(GOD nods, affirming that this part is absolutely true and giving the audience a few looks as if to say, “do with that what you will”)

GOD:
I, uh- I'm going to let you go back to Earth in a little while. I know Earth isn't great. And I know I should be here for a lot more than what I'm here for. But I'm just here to keep you company and I'm here, well, whenever you need to talk about some of what's going on. Earth is worse than “not great,” it's full of people trying to turn every room, every room, into some kind of arena. And most people are clapping. But don't fall for it, there's more going on. You're going on. And if you tell the truth, I'll be under every word of it agreeing with you in ways you can actually feel. Feel. A feeling that holds and stays, a feeling that is actually a feeling, not just “okay” not just “skipping the bad parts.” I'll tell you six things that are true. Thing are bad. They will get worse. You are strong. But you're gonna have to get stronger. It's not fair. But that's how it is.

(GOD is half a beat into letting a “profound pause” be settled into before She backpedals)

GOD:
I mean, I guess other people could help you, too. I mean I'm no doctor but I don't think it would kill them. So ask for that, right? I mean, come on. You can't do it all, you're not magicians.

(A “ding!” is heard from an oven under the counter)

GOD:
Oh! My quiche!

(GOD puts on a pair of oven mitts, reaches under the counter and holds up a miraculous, inexplicable picture perfect quiche. GOD swivels to give both sides of the audience a good shot of it)

GOD:
Look at that. I know. I know, I never actually baked the crust or used the tomatoes or cooked the filling at all, but- God powers.

(GOD smiles at the audience)

GOD:
I'm not fair and I wanted a quiche. Let's talk again soon.