Книга только для ознакомления
. Dear, did you ever bandage a wounded dog... and have the poor beastie, in its ignorance, gnaw away the dressing and damage itself still more?'
'Uh, yes.' (My dog Brownie. I was twelve. Brownie died.)
'Don't be like that poor dog. Trust Jerry. If He is to help you, He must do things beyond your ken. Would you try to direct a brain surgeon? Or attempt to hurry one?'
I smiled ruefully and reached out to pat her hand. 'I'll be good, Katie. I'll try.'
'Yes, do try, for Marga's sake.'
'I will. Uh, Jerry - stipulating that I'm merely human and can't understand everything, can You tell me anything?'
'What I can, I will. Where shall I start?'
'Well, when lasked if I was Job, You said, "Yes and no." What did You mean?'
'You are indeed another Job. With the original Job I was, I confess, one of the villains. This time I'm not.
'I'm not proud of the fashion in which I bedeviled Job. I'm not proud of the fashion in which I have so often let My Brother Yahweh maneuver Me into doing His dirty work - starting clear back with Mother Eve - and before that, in ways I cannot explain. And I've always been a sucker for a bet, any sort of a bet... and I'm not proud of that weakness, either.'
Jerry looked at the fire and brooded. 'Eve was a pretty one. As soon as I laid eyes on her I knew that Yahweh had finally cooked up a creation worthy of an Artist. Then I found out He had copied most of the design
|
