Epilogue, Omakes, Extras, Future Consequences
Joan and her friends watched the press conferences that her Dad was having in front of City Hall.
"… and so, with the mastermind behind the attacks having agreed to a plea deal and having helped provide restitution, I can categorically say that the wave of attacks against our religious institutions have come to a halt. As a community it is incumbent upon us …"
Joan was feeling ten feet tall. She had organized her friends to use their various resources to find the evidence. She had also talked to Ryan a number of times – after he no longer was inaccessible to those that had passed.
Judith had mentioned that she had a friend on her side of the veil (Harry had explained the term and she thought it apropos) who often visited Ryan to try to get him to realize his efforts were badly thought out and damaging.
She still did other random things based on God's suggestions. Her father had been a great help keeping the family from getting too worried about it.
Will had considered his relationship with his kids and tried to make more of an effort.
He had apologized to Kevin for trying to live life through him when he was younger. Kevin was floored that his father had acknowledged that. They started to build a new relationship.
Luke, Will had decided, was closest to being like his wife. Where his wife was artistic and creative, Luke was the same – but he applied that to his scientific thinking. He had made an effort to spend time with his youngest and listened to how Luke perceived the universe in all of its glory.
When Will had mentioned to his wife that Luke's vision was almost artistic, it had caused his wife to make more of an effort to understand Luke. Luke no longer felt so much of an outsider in his own family.
But Joan. Joan was his. She wasn't artistic or super brainy or super popular. She was her mother's daughter – but Will felt that Joan was probably the most like him. Joan, like Will, worked to increase the good – regardless of what anyone thought or forces which conspired against her. Will still didn't necessarily LIKE God on a personal level – as much as he now believed and had faith – but Will recognized that Joan would always be the one who would do anything to make things right, make things better.
Needless to say, Joan was much happier. To the world she became "more well-adjusted." To the family, she became "less weird." The lack of fear when she talked to her father allowed the two to become closer than ever.
She now felt that, like when Harry visited, she now had someone on HER side.
She knew that the future would bring joys and pain, but she now felt she could HAVE a future.
Will was at the scene of a murder. A man had held up a convenience store and shot the clerk. His people had responded quickly and caught the guy, but somehow he had ditched the gun.
They had cordoned off the area and were looking but were coming up with nothing. As he stood there waiting for more reports, he looked at the line of bystanders trying to get a look. There were reporters there, random people – he really wished they would just let his guys do their job!
He noticed in the line of bystanders a teenage boy dressed like a Goth. He was surprised to say the least. The boy looked directly at him and then looked down toward his feet. Will's eyes followed. Will looked up, startled. The Goth teenager smirked at him and gave a tiny wave before turning and walking away.
Will looked around and called out. "Carlisle!"
Carlisle rushed over. "Yeah, boss."
"Get some guys to move that line of people further away."
Soon, the bystanders were moved and Will walked over. He said to one of the uniforms, "Help me with this!"
He and the uniformed officer squatted down and moved the heavy metal sewer grate. Will motioned for the officer to use his flashlight. And at the bottom of the hole was the weapon they were looking for. The officer called out to the people looking. "We've got something!"
Will sighed even as he smiled. Small miracles. Within the rules.
60 years after Harry's visit
The girl was sifting through the pile of stuff. "Why did Grandma Joan leave ME all of this crap? It makes no sense!"
She reached to pick up a ledger from the stack of books. She opened it up. Huh, a diary. She absently reached over to grab the next paper in the pile and suddenly pulled her hand back. "Paper cut! Paper cut!" She HATED paper cuts. She put the cut finger in her mouth for a moment and then shook her hand – trying to dissolve the immediate pain. She flexed her hand and put it down, accidentally putting her bleeding finger right on the inside cover. "Oh, damn!"
Suddenly she noticed the text on the opposing page changed. Instead of "The Journal of Joan Girardi," it said, "The Gospel of Joan Girardi," and then there was a smiley face – almost like the title was a joke.
She was curious and hunkered down to start reading. After a while, she cried out, "Oh … my … God!"
Suddenly at the door of the storage unit was the old lady who had given her the key. "Hello."
The girl looked wild-eyed at the book and then back to the lady. Her great-grandmum had described this woman – right on the page she was on!
"Um. So this isn't fiction is it?"
The lady smiled and shook her head.
The teenage boy in the classic corduroy jacket smiled at the girl, even as she looked at him incredulously. "You want me to do WHAT?"
"Well, maybe not as it is. As it is, most people would look at it as just a mildly interesting work of fiction. That's why you have to re-write it as parables."
The teenage girl huffed. "So, now I'm supposed to be a writer?"
Gospel of the Saint Joan the Second
1. And so there I was, a daughter of the local constable, newly moved to this small town upon the eastern edge of my homeland, traveling to the local center of learning. All youths were required to become scholars and I reluctantly did my duty.
2. At this time I was but a silly child, worrying about transitory and unimportant things. Also did I think upon my eldest brother who had been laid low, oh, those many months before.
3. And suddenly upon my journey I was joined by He who Created us all. And He did not appear to me as a venerated Elder as was described by those prophets of the past but instead as one of my fellow young scholars.
4. When He named Himself, at first I did not believe. I rebuked Him, and threatened Him with punishment by means of my powerful father and ….
A/N: I couldn't help myself – it just came to me. And the Omake below would be kind of interesting, but one could work out the results in his own imagination. Or her own. Anyway …
Harry made his way into the local bar. He thought he recognized this bar from somewhere but it had been a long time ago. He hoped they took Galleons – cause that's all he had.
Harry made his way over toward the bar. There were people around of all types. It was obvious that this wasn't Earth – at least not Earth of his time. Earth didn't have aliens of all shapes, sizes, and colors. There were a few humans around the edge, he noted.
As he moved to stand next to the bar, he was bumped. He turned and there was an alien snarling in its own language at him, kind of looking like an upright boar – tusks and all. He said, "Excuse me."
Another alien, a bit more humanoid but still looking like he was related to a boar, said, "He doesn't like you."
Harry shrugged. "I'm sorry."
"I don't like you."
"I'm sorry about that too."
"You better watch out! I have Death Warrants in twelve systems! If …"
Before the man could continue, there was a disturbance in the crowd. The three turned and saw that there was a path being made.
Harry recognized the teenager making the ruckus. He sighed. "Hello, Boss."
The beligerant Alien looked at him in horror. "You work for him? For one of those?"
Harry shrugged. "Well … yeah."
The Alien was all of a sudden far less beligerant and obnoxious. "Oh! Well, we're sorry for bumping you and for taking your time." The two aliens then quickly rushed away.
Harry turned to Goth Boy God. "What was that all about?"
God shrugged. "Hello, Harry."
"Hey, Boss. Want something?"
Harry turned to the barman who was now standing respectfully waiting for their order. "Two waters." Harry dropped a Galleon on the bar.
The barman nodded in a servile fashion. "Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir!"
The two received their water and then made their way to an unoccupied booth. The crowd, once again, made room for them to pass – acting very nervous.
"Is that a new piercing?" Harry asked curiously, pointing to the nose on the deity's face.
God shrugged and smirked. "I haven't decided if I wanted to get a bigger one yet."
The people around him, who were nervously trying to overhear, moved even further away at that.
"So, what do you want me to do?"
"In about half an hour, an older man and a boy around Joan's age will be riding in to town. I want you to help them to arrange a meeting with those two." He pointed toward a man at another table that had a tall figure next to him, covered in hair.
The two he pointed at looked nervous by being noticed by the teenager dressed as a Goth.
Suddenly, Harry remembered. "Wait! Am I where I think I am?" God smirked and nodded. Harry grinned. "Ooooh! This is going to be fun!"
God smirked and said, "We'll be coming with them – for at least the original part of the trip."
Harry was excited. He had been to one of these universes but it was many, many Travels ago.
The two got up and went over to the man and the Wookie. "I heard you have a ship," Harry grinned at the human.
"We have a commission for you – some up front and some when we get there. My boss here told me you could help."
The man looked resigned and the Wookie howled – quietly.
Harry looked around and saw the bounty hunter who would have accosted Han Solo waiting in the wings. Noting that EVERYONE in the bar was nervous at the sight of this incarnation of God, he felt a sudden impulse – he WAS the son of a Marauder after all.
He called out loudly to the onlookers, "Me and my boss will be doing some business with these two. I hope that doesn't inconvenience anyone?"
There were a lot of "No" and "Of course not!" and other sentiments expressed by the bystanders. God just smirked.
The bounty hunter had been one of those to express this. He soon rushed out to get word to Jabba – Han Solo was now working for one of those. It was probably best to just let things go. Han Solo had far more to worry about than an annoyed Hutt.
Harry looked at Han and said, "Why don't you have your friend get your ship ready? We have to go get the group that's going with us. Will that work?"
Han did not hesitate to agree. "Chewie. Go get the ship ready." Chewbacca, mighty Wookie and veteran of the Clone Wars, did not protest ... at all.
The four made their way out, once again being given wide berth.
The alien who sat around the bar soaking up information to sell decided that certain things should just be kept to oneself. It didn't pay to get involved when one of those was also involved.
When the stormtroopers came in an hour later to make inquiries, he kept his mouth shut.
Harry asked God, "Can you tell me where they're planning on selling their speeder?"
God pointed to a lot down the road. Harry grinned. "Why don't we go and tell the proprietor that it's coming and we hope that he will give a good price for it. Then you can go meet up with Chewbacca. You seem to attract a lot of attention."
The dealer was very quick to agree to give their friends as good a price as he could. God walked away and the dealer was suddenly far less nervous. He asked Harry, "How did you come to be working for Him?"
Harry shrugged and grinned. "He convinced me that it was better that I do certain jobs. I get well-rewarded."
The dealer shrugged. He had heard of the planet where the natives dressed like that. The rewards they gave out were nothing he wanted anything to do with. There was a reason why even the new Empire stayed well away from that system.
A/N: It was a plot bunny. Somewhere in the Star Wars universe is a planet of people who dress like Goths and they have a very bad reputation. Other planets and races have decided to accommodate them as much as possible when they appear – and hope that they disappear just as quick. This could go anywhere one wants – but it's not on my current plans to write. It was just for amusement.
And I'm done with the story. Life goes on. Harry goes on. It was an interesting side trip.