Where Is Your God?

The wind had been harsh the previous night, and the ocean still looked a bit stormy when he stepped outside. Nathan was out somewhere in search of food, and Peter was using the time to explore the beach. Storms washed up the most exquisite things, and although he didn’t wonder about that so much anymore, it was still the most interesting thing to do around here.

Some days ago, Nathan had explained to him why it was just the two of them here. Well, he hadn’t exactly explained that, but he had finally told Peter why things were in this state; the earthquake. A massive, earth-shattering one that had washed most of California into the ocean.

It was a bit too massive for Peter to wrap his head around, but he guessed it could happen. Well, it had happened… and now that he thought about it, every now and then he could feel the ground trembling beneath his feet, just slightly, as if something deep inside was restless and itching to move.

Now that he knew, he could start looking at things differently. The objects sticking out of the water on the horizon… the random objects the winds sometimes uncovered in the sand… It was all remnants of an old life that was no more. If he could have stopped thinking of the millions of lives that had been lost, according to Nathan, he would have felt like an explorer of some unknown land.

The morning was turning out to be a beautiful one. The wind still made his hair whip around his face, but it wasn’t raining anymore, and Peter walked while looking around. He wandered the stretch of beach but nothing miraculous or new was laid across his path, so he decided to go and fly for a bit. Soaring into the air, he gazed towards the ground, then landed when he found a huddled group of houses he had missed before. They sat half a mile from the shore, and it seemed that last night’s storm had ripped some trees off their roots from around the houses, exposing them.

A couple of trees had crashed on top of the abandoned buildings, but some of the structures were still standing and Peter walked inside one, stepping over broken furniture and the ceiling’s fallen beams.

The buildings looked like those cute little cottages people came to spend their vacations in. They also appeared a bit flimsy and creaked whenever the wind blew a bit harder across the land. Peter looked at the stuff lying around the cottage he was currently in, then noticed a couple of books. One of them was meant for children, its colors faded and ink smeared, covers twisted. There was another one that he picked up next; a Bible. Most of its pages were missing, torn out or fallen, but there were a few clippings left, as if someone had wanted to keep the most meaningful and inspiring lines to themselves.

The ink on those thin pages was almost gone as well. He could make out a few words, like: “…it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be…”. He knew where it was from, although he could not remember the exact occasion when he had first heard it. Perhaps back when he was still a child? He looked at the papers, then put them back between the bent, worn covers. Perhaps someone had held onto this book when the earthquake struck, hoping for a miracle… Maybe the owner of this Bible had survived.

Peter looked through a window, out to the sea. He could barely see it, but protruding from the water came something like the shape of a cross…

He stepped out of the cottage and took flight again, racing across the water until he reached it. Indeed, it was a cross. Barely visible above the water, it seemed to be struggling against the waves. Carefully Peter landed on it and looked down. He could see a shadow of a building, and it occurred to him it might be the roof of a church. He felt momentarily ashamed, standing on the cross of such a holy building. His foot slipped a little just then on the seaweed covered surface, making him fall into the water.

Peter kicked with his feet and struggled back to the surface, spitting out the cold, salty water. Only then did he notice he had brought the Bible and its few remaining pages with him, which now floated on the surface, scattered around him by the waves. Peter tried to catch them for a bit, but then he had to give up and pull himself from the water.

As he sat on top of the cross he watched the remaining pages drift away, then gazed out towards the shore. Had these people prayed? Perhaps inside this very church lay bodies of people who had sought refuge there when their world began to collapse. Where was their God now? All those lives…

Peter felt angry, not to mention wet and cold. It made him feel lonely, sitting out there, the shadow of a city barely visible beneath him, debris floating around him that the storm had brought from somewhere. If there was a God – any kind of God, from any religion – what kind of God let this happen? Was it the wrong faith? Wrong color? Wrong country? Did a real God care about such things?

Looking up to the sky, he pondered that. Maybe this had all been part of the great plan. Or maybe there was no plan, no God, and the pieces of paper floating in the water were just inspiring words written by someone who wanted to give people something they could have in common with each other. Something to believe in.

That didn’t change the fact that people had prayed that day, Peter was sure. They had laid their lives and hopes out for some all-powerful entity to rescue them, and all they got in return was death. Had those people known it would be their fate, would they have acted differently? Or would they still choose to believe, because there was little to be done when such a disaster as this struck the world?

Shivering slightly, Peter rose back into the air. He could no longer see the pages of the Bible in the water. The group of cottages looked broken and dead when he raised his eyes to look at them. Crushed by trees, worn by weather, twisted and bent… That was how this whole world was right now, in Peter’s eyes. Not even a shadow of its former self, but some run-down version no one was interested in fixing anymore.