The God Contest Regina

“Failure is not a single, cataclysmic event. Failure is a few errors in judgement, repeated day after day.”

Jim Rohn

Bethany’s grandmother stood before her, in her faded yellow and pink floral dress. It was the one she had been buried in. She looked tired, her wrinkled skin hanging loosely on her bones. Her eyes were droopy and grey, but they darted around the room as if searching for something that she had lost. Her eyes fell on Bethany, but then left just as quickly as she resumed her search.

“Umm… Grandma? It’s… it's Bethany. Your granddaughter,” Bethany said awkwardly. Had her dementia followed her beyond death?

When her grandmother had been close to the end, she had started to forget who Bethany was. It was in those moments that Bethany had felt truly alone. Her grandmother had been her only friend, her rock, and her only guardian against the anger and violence of her father. It was from her whom Bethany sought comfort in those dark times. She had wanted them to escape her father together, but her grandmother’s illness had taken that option away from her.

“Come on, Thoth” Bethany shouted, her voice cracking as emotion started to fracture the thin armor of bravery she had built. “Show me what I need to know, so I can lead her soul to a peaceful rest.”

Bethany watched her grandmother’s apparition become younger. Her wrinkles disappeared and her skin grew taught and healthy. Her white hair became blond and extended down her back, then fashioned itself into a ponytail. She had the same green eyes that Bethany remembered, and they were filled with intense love and hope for the future.

The grey walls began to shift, and the air smelled sterile. Steel beds with white linen formed around them, projecting the image of an old hospital room from the 1960s. Bethany could hear the nurses softly chatting in the background as a newborn baby cried. Her young grandmother was lying on a hospital bed, sweat beaded on her brow.

Harriet Fox was a new mother. She held her crying baby boy to her breast, her fingers wrapped protectively around his back. Tears of joy streamed down her face. It had finally happened. After years of trying, after years of failures, she was now a mother of a healthy baby boy. She named him Billy, after the father she had lost. He would be hers forever, and she promised she would dedicate her life to protecting him. No matter what.

Bethany stared at the baby boy in her grandmother’s arms. Her father. He looked so small and innocent. Was that really the child that would grow up angry and abusive?

“I’m sorry, grandmother,” Bethany said in a sorrowful tone. “He’s not going to grow up how you wanted. You tried your best, but he was broken from the start.”

“Bethany,” Emily said, concerned. “Your father… the bruise on your cheek. Did he…”

Emily did not finish the thought, and Bethany did not answer. The grey walls began to spin and there was a bright flash. A new scene appeared before her.

Harriet sat across from Billy’s teacher. The teacher was describing an incident that had happened in the schoolyard. Billy had pushed a young girl off the top of the monkey bars, and she had broken her arm. It was the third incident in as many months. Harriet looked over at her son, playing in the corner without a care in the world. “Boys will be boys, Ms. Finch,” Harriet said dismissively. “And girls will be girls. Billy said Edna fell on her own and lied to get him into trouble, and I believe him. Perhaps you should do a better job supervising your students.”

Bethany could not believe what she was hearing. Her grandmother had been so dismissive of the notion that her son might have been at fault. So quick to attack those who she saw as a threat. It was not the grandmother that she knew.

The scene changed again in a blinding flash. Harriet walked down the school corridor beside a teenaged Billy, carrying his belongings in his arm. It was the third school that had expelled Billy. “Don’t worry about it, Billy,” Harriot said supportively. “The world is out to get you, but I will protect you from it. They are simply jealous of how special you are. Don’t you think about that Veronica girl anymore. I’m sure she deserved what happened to her.”

“That… that can’t be…,” Bethany whispered, feeling shaken to her core. Her grandmother was a sweet woman. The only one besides her mother who had ever cared for her. This couldn’t be her. It must be a lie.

Flash. Harriet sat in the front row of the church as Billy married Alice, his high school sweetheart. She wept tears of joy. Alice was such a calming influence on Billy. He hardly ever lashed out at others anymore, and the baby on the way would help. Harriet gazed at Alice’s face. Good, Alice had done well with her make-up. You could hardly see the bruises anymore.

Bethany stared at the image of her pregnant mother. She looked so young, but there was a heaviness in her eyes. The same heaviness that Bethany had glimpsed in her own eyes on the worst of nights, when her father was deep in the bottle.

Flash. Harriet was a new grandmother. She wanted to hold baby Bethany, but Alice refused to let her. Alice clung to Bethany, her fingers wrapped around Bethany’s tiny body as if she were the only thing protecting the baby from a cruel world. Harriot wished Billy was here to scold Alice, but he would return from the bar shortly. Alice would need her rest after Billy set her straight, and then Harriet could hold Bethany.

Flash. A drunk Billy towered over a ten-year-old Bethany, his mind rattled from Alice’s death. Billy had said it was a suicide, and Harriet took him at his word. Billy slapped Bethany across the face in sorrow-fueled anger, and Bethany fell onto her bed in a fetal position, paralyzed with fear and the taste of blood in her mouth. Her father struck her again and again as she lay there, unprotected.

Harriet watched from the doorway in shock. She did not understand what was happening. Her son would not strike his child. He wouldn’t do that. If he did not stop, the police might take him away. She could not let that happen. She could not lose her only son.

Harriet grabbed her son’s shoulder and pulled him away from Bethany. She whispered in his ear, and Billy calmed down. He left the room, fell onto the couch, and returned to his whisky bottle.

Harriet sat at Bethany’s bedside and used her handkerchief to wipe the blood from Bethany’s mouth. “Be brave, little bee. He didn’t mean it. He’s not himself. You know how he gets when he drinks. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m here.”

The scenes quickly accelerated, displaying instance after instance of her father abusing Bethany. Each time, Harriet was there to excuse Billy’s actions.

Flash. “Be brave, little bee. He didn’t mean it.”

Flash. “Be brave, little bee. He’s not himself.”

Flash. “Be brave, little bee. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll keep you safe.”

Be brave, little bee.

How many times had Bethany repeated her grandmother’s words when she needed to be brave? She knew at that moment she would never utter them again. The words would feel like poison on her lips.

She saw Emily and Rocky staring at her, speechless, their eyes filled with tears as they watched the life of their new friend told in the language of violence and neglect.

The scene changed once more, and Bethany knew in her heart which one it would be. The worst night of her life. The night that would lead to her plan to escape from her father. The plan that would lead her to Regina and to the God Contest.

Flash. Harriet sat in the hospital on Bethany’s sixteenth birthday. Bethany was in another room being treated for her injuries. Harriet’s mind had started to grow fuzzy in recent months, but she always remembered the one thing - the only thing - that mattered. The promise she had made when Billy was born. To dedicate her life to protecting her son.

So when the nurse skeptically asked whether Bethany’s injuries were from an attempted suicide, as Billy had claimed, she had confirmed Billy’s story. Yes, her granddaughter had attempted suicide. She was a troubled girl. A liar. She could not be trusted. Her mother has committed suicide six years ago and Bethany had never recovered. Her father and I try our best, but there is only so much you can do with girls like that.

Her grandmother’s words felt like a blow to her heart. Bethany sat in utter silence, struggling to breathe as emotions overwhelmed her.

Flash. Harriet lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. She did not know where she was. She could not remember who she was. Her mind was almost gone. She felt tired, unable to keep a grip on the world. She felt like she was floating, and suddenly she realized she was dying. A teenaged girl with a long brown ponytail, freckles, and green eyes stood over her. She did not recognize the girl, but those eyes reminded her of her son. She remembered her son. She was his world, and she would protect him. Always.

Harriet released her final breath in this world, and she drifted away.

The scenes around them stopped, and Harriet’s apparition returned to the table, lifeless in her yellow flower dress.

After Emily and Rocky’s apparitions, Bethany had been prepared for tears. Yet it was not sorrow that Bethany felt right now. It was sheer, uncontainable anger.

Bethany slammed her hand down on the table so hard that it went numb. Emily and Rocky startled at the fury of her blow.

“Bethany, are you…,” Emily started to say, wanting to run over and embrace Bethany but still held fast in her chair.

“How many times?” spat Bethany, staring her grandmother in the eye. “How many times did you look the other way for him? How many excuses did you make? How many lies did you tell? You could have ended all of it had you spoken up.”

The spirit just stood there, as if Bethany’s words were meaningless.

“How many of his beatings did mom take? How many did I?” Bethany was screaming now, Emily and Rocky’s comforting voices lost in the cascade of anger that flowed from her.

Her Oracle Eye began to glow, and before she realized it, she held her ball-peen hammer and wrapped threads of golden light around its form. She rose from her stone chair, the invisible bonds that held her down straining and snapping in her anger. She grasped her hammer of light with both hands and swung the hammer through her grandmother’s ghostly form.

The hammer of light struck the stone table and shattered the stone in front of Bethany. Debris scattered along the floor, and then a resounding crack filled the room as the stone table split in two. The sound echoed off the walls and carried into the night sky above.

“Bethany, calm down!” shouted Emily, the fear in her voice breaking through Bethany’s anger. “We aren’t done the challenge yet!”

Bethany looked down at the damage she had wrought, and the hammer of light faded away. She clasped her hands over her mouth, shocked at what her anger had wrought.

She fell back into her chair, and the invisible threads re-established their control and pulled her backwards. Bethany did not fight it. She felt her anger fade away, and her Oracle Eye returned to its milky whiteness.

“Feel better?” Rocky asked sarcastically. Bethany looked over at him, and Rocky gave her the widest, goofiest smile she had ever seen. It was so out of place that Bethany burst out laughing. Emily and Rocky joined her soon after, and their combined laughter filled the room.

“Your grandmother was a real piece of work,” concluded Emily, after their laugher had died down. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Bethany.”

“She was all I had in the world,” replied Bethany. “She was my rock. She was my protector. Or I thought she was. I stayed in that house and cared for her when her mind started to fade, even as my father’s beatings grew worse. I should have left the moment mom died. She wouldn’t have noticed. In the end, everything was always about him.”

“It seems like we all have something in common,” added Rocky. “We all have something in our past that has held us back and shaped who we are today.” He looked over at Bethany. “I forgave Brad. Will you forgive your grandmother?”

Bethany glanced up at her grandmother’s apparition.

“No,” Bethany declared. “No, this is not the same thing. Despite his terrible past, Brad grew into a loving husband and father. Harriet never did. From the day my father was born, everything she did was for him, and him alone. He was all she cared for in this world.”

Emily and Rocky wanted to argue. They wanted to tell her she was wrong. But they had seen Harriet’s life play out, and they knew Bethany spoke the truth.

Bethany could feel the final tether that connected her to her old life breaking away, like a branch in a hurricane. Her only positive memory of home had been blown away, leaving nothing but the anguish of her childhood laid bare.

Bethany looked towards the moon and rendered her judgment on the soul of Harriet Fox.

“Harriet Fox lived for her son. From the moment he was born, she only had eyes for him. Every decision she made, she made for him. Her spirit’s fate should reflect this. She should remain in limbo, contemplating her choices, until she is reunited with her son. And if she does not deviate from the path she made in life, may her soul receive the same fate as her son when it is time for his soul to be judged.”

Bethany finished her declaration and looked to Rocky and Emily. They returned her gaze with silent nods.

“That is my judgment,” she finished, and she leaned back in her stone chair, exhausted.

The moon’s grey light pulsed, and Thoth’s voice echoed across the room.

“Forgiveness is a gift, and it can be cathartic for the living. But if it is given too readily in the judgment of souls, forgiveness becomes meaningless. A soul must have the insight to know they have done wrong for forgiveness to be appropriate. Your judgment grants Harriet Fox the time to develop this insight. Yet time is a precious gift for a soul, not lightly given. I must think on this.”

The voice faded away, leaving only silence. Bethany felt the bonds that held her to the stone chair break away. Their tasks in the Arena were complete.

All that remained was Thoth’s final judgment.