With the long line to lay the last king to rest, Jesus had plenty of time to prepare for his coronation. He led us through the city—strewn with celebratory decorations—to his father's palace, now his home. We silently strode down the shining hallways, past the inner garden where Jesus had built a temple for the Grayel, and then into the main living quarters.
Most of those who went with Jesus, including the Archangels who would be his honor guard at the coronation, headed into the all-white living room to wait for him to prepare, but I followed him to the master bedroom.
“Vervain?” Jesus paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at me.
“I have a gift for you.”
“A gift?”
“Yes. Well, an offer.” I waved at the open door. “May I?”
“Certainly.” He waved me in ahead of him.
The room was sparse, with just a four-poster bed, but that bed was impressive. The frame—if you can call something with columns and a tiered roof a frame—was made of white marble veined in gold. Sky blue linens and a velvet quilt embroidered with stars dressed the mattress and matching silk curtains hung from the ornate top. Beautiful, but again, that was all there was.
I looked around the vast space. Across the hardwood floor, polished to a golden sheen, a pair of balcony doors stood open, allowing a sweet-smelling breeze to flow in and billow the bed curtains. “Did you have it gutted?”
“Yes,” he said. “I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep with all of his things around me, and the Cherubim offered to remove them. There hasn't been time for more than replacing the bed, but I did get the Grayel settled and bring in some of my clothes.” He waved toward an open doorway and the dressing room beyond. “They made me a coronation robe to wear.”
I touched his arm. “Are you all right? You don't sound like yourself.”
“Well, I can't be that man anymore,” he said sadly. “I have to betheMan now, the Authority.” He grimaced. “The Establishment. Everything I have fought against for centuries.”
“No, you don't.”
“I have to rule Heaven now. I have to grow up.”
I made a face. “I love your mom, but she's wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look, I don't want to evaluate why your mom said what she did; I know she has your best interests at heart. But you don't have to conform to any standard to be a king. Being in charge means that you can be whoever you want to be,J-man.” I nudged his shoulder. “All the Heavens are looking forward to a new king, not a new version of Jerry.”
“But a king must be dignified.”
“You are dignified. You don't have to talk and dress like your father to be respected and you don't have to give up the things you love to be responsible. You have always been there for the people who needed you. The Host knows that. They all love you, J. They love youjust as you are. Don't disappoint them by changing.”
“But Mom . . .”
“Your mother wants you to be happy. I think she'll realize her mistake soon enough. But, frankly, what she thinks doesn't matter. You are going to be King. This is your life and your kingdom. Do it your way, Jesus. I have absolute faith in you.”
Jesus blinked, then grinned. “I can be myself?”
“I think you need to. Heaven is relying on it. And how bogus would it be if you were suddenly this stooge of a king?”
“You're right! I can't be King Downer. That would harsh my mellow big time.”
“There you are. I missed you, J-man.” I hugged him “Now, Your Majesty, you have another decision to make.”
“What's that, Lion Lady?” his hippie accent flowed back to him like smoke from a joint.
“I took most of your father's magic.” I tapped the emerald I still wore. “I can release it into Heaven or I can give it to you.”
His stare went to the pendant. “You have the Light?”
“Most but not all. It might be helpful, maybe even necessary for accepting offerings from humans. But I can see why you might not want—”
“I'll take it,” he cut me off. “I was so worried when it didn't come to me at Dad's death like Luke said it would.”
