I remember thinking to myself), I started hearing rumblings about his big new plan: the Old Man was apparently creating a son to “help him.” Not to brag, but I knew as soon as I heard this plan that it’d never, ever work. The Old Man was a complete narcissist. The idea that he could play a supporting role in his own story? It was laughable. What was Jesus like? Well, he was both similar to and different from his father. He was similar in the sense that he was strange and muddled in his thinking and sometimes mean as hell. He was different, however, in the sense that he was actually clever. I grasped that as soon as we started talking. “Are you really the son of God?” I asked him, partially wanting to tweak the Old Man, sure, but also honestly not sure who this young man was. I mean, okay, the Old Man said he was his son—but what did that even mean? “If you are the son of God,” I asked Jesus, “why don’t you turn those rocks into bread?” Jesus looked back at me with those inscrutable eyes of his.
