F F walked slowly toward the temple’s front door, his mind full of thoughts about his stormy meeting with Atwood and his resignation from the temple. As he passed the golden statue of Bolinas, the god’s voice filled the hall.

YOU ARE TROUBLED, MY SON.

F F stopped. “Yes.”

BECAUSE?

“Because of me.”

BEWARE ARROGANCE AND PRIDE.

F F sat down on one of the folding chairs set up for worship services. “You’re a god, so I suppose perfection is within your reach. I’ve no such hopes, but why shouldn’t I take responsibility for what I do?”

WHAT COULD YOU KNOW ABOUT PERFECTION?

“Nothing.” F F sat in silence, waiting for a response. Finally he said, “According to Atwood, you’re going to strike me down. If you are, why don’t you get on with it?”

He heard a soft rustle and looked down. A baby rabbit hopped across the temple floor and stopped at his feet. “Striking people down isn’t my style,” said the rabbit.

“I suppose not,” said F F. “Still, it would solve my problems. But I guess you’ve got problems of your own.”

The rabbit’s nose twitched.

“One of Olema’s priests was just in town fomenting trouble. He wouldn’t have been here without her approval, so she’s probably after you again. I suspect she’s going to try to get to you by attacking your worshippers.”

The rabbit looked at F F with liquid eyes. “That would be despicable.”

“This is Olema we’re discussing, isn’t it? And Irwin is capable of anything.”

“Irwin?”

“Her high priest. You know, once in a while you should interest yourself in earthly affairs.”

“You presume to instruct a god?”

“I do.”

“You think there’s bickering and backbiting among people? You should see the truly powerful go at it. Sometimes I think it would be better if there were only one god, and everyone worshiped Him. Or Her.” The rabbit rubbed its nose with a paw. “But there’d be one hell of a fight to see who finished on top.”

“What’s with the rabbit and soft voice?”

“I didn’t think you’d respond to fire and brimstone. Besides, it might damage the temple.”

“Rabbithood isn’t working for me, either.”

“Olema’s going to threaten me through my worshipers?”

“And your non-worshipers,” said F F. “For some reason, the immediate target seems to be the Apthorp. Atwood’s been after the students who live there, too.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? I try to take care of my worshipers, but do they respond? Maybe they’d prefer a depraved, self-centered goddess like Olema.”

“What now? A god who needs reassurance?”

“People think it’d be great to be a god, but it just makes me tired.”

“I doubt that Olema cares about what happens to your people, her people, or any people,” said F F. “And since she doesn’t, she can turn her priests loose to follow their worser natures.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t leave. Pick me up.”

“For the laying on of the paws? No chance.”

The rabbit sighed. It hopped into the shadow of the golden statue and disappeared.

F F sat for a few minutes more. Then he, too, sighed. “I suppose,” he said aloud to the empty temple, “that if you’ve decided to change your life, you should get started before the urge passes.”

As F F once again headed for the temple door, he heard shouting, and Atwood ran into the hall. He carried his cocktail shaker in one hand and a full glass in the other. “What are you doing to me?” he yelled.

“Nothing,” said F F. “You’re doing it all to yourself.”

Atwood blocked F F’s way. His face was contorted, and he looked ready to fight. F F didn’t want any more confrontation. He turned back toward the idol, intending to go to the temple’s rear door.

“Stop!” cried Atwood. “I’m talking to you.”

“Forget it.”

“You miserable heretic.” Atwood wound up and threw the cocktail shaker at F F.

The shaker sailed over F F’s head, spinning through the light from the temple’s high windows. A stream of Martinis fell from it in a silvery cascade. It smacked into the idol’s stomach and clattered to the ground. The two priests froze, aghast at the sacrilege.

The idol glowed. Its surface rippled and shimmered, and a deep, massive rumbling filled the temple hall. The idol grew until its head reached the hall’s ceiling.

WHO DISTURBS MY TEMPLE?

“Your Wonderfulness,” Atwood called, “please forgive me. This man is a heretic priest. I wish only to hold him accountable.”

The idol’s head inclined slightly, its blank golden eyes looking down on F F.

ARE YOU A HERETIC?

“You should know,” said F F, looking up at the idol’s face. “You’re a god.”

AND YOU ARE BUT MORTAL.

F F was startled to see the idol wink at him.

I SHALL PRONOUNCE JUDGMENT.

YOU, FAIRFAX FERN CRESCENTE, ARE AN IMPERFECT HUMAN TRYING TO FIND YOUR WAY THROUGH LIFE.

IN THIS ATTEMPT, YOU HAVE MY BLESSING.

F F blinked.

BUT AS YOU HAVE RENOUNCED YOUR VOWS,
SO I CAST YOU OUT FROM MY TEMPLE.

GO, AND MAY YOU FIND WHAT YOU SEEK.

F F bowed to the god. He edged his way around Atwood, easing himself toward the temple’s front door.

BUT WITH YOU, ATWOOD PHELPS, I AM DISPLEASED.

BY YOUR ACTIONS YOU RISK BOTH YOUR MORTAL LIFE
AND YOUR IMMORTAL SOUL.

REPENT, AND REFORM YOURSELF.

Bolinas’s voice dropped to a conversational tone. “And stop demonizing the Apthorp and its residents. Can’t you find a way to serve me that actually embodies some truth?” The god’s manifestation began to shrink. When it reached normal human size, it sat down and crossed its legs in the lotus position. Its shimmering glow went out, and once more it was just an idol.

When F F reached the door, he looked back. Atwood was on his knees before the idol of Bolinas, head bowed to the temple floor.

Outside, F F sat down on the steps where only a few days before he had greeted worshipers, a prospering and popular priest. He found he had no idea what to do next. He bowed his head, but he couldn’t pray.

He heard a voice, but it wasn’t a god’s. He looked up to see Audrey standing before him. “I was walking, and I heard this amazing rumbling noise. What’s going on?”

“Some residents of the temple had a small dispute, and I’ve been banished,” said F F. “Come to think of it, I no longer have a place to stay.”

“Sounds like more than a small dispute.” Audrey sat down next to him. “Why don’t you stay at the Apthorp until you get things worked out?”

“That sounds really good.”

“We’ve got this spare room for people who need shelter from the storm. Anthony used it. It comes with a super-comfy air mattress.”

F F was amused at himself for thinking Audrey had been inviting him into her room and her bed. To his surprise, he was relieved at being wrong. He’d had enough change in his life for one day.

He stood up, swaying a little, and Audrey reached out to support him. “I can make it on my own,” he said, but her arm slipped around his waist. Together, they walked along the curving road from the Temple of Bolinas to the Apthorp.