"No man, he's not here." I reply

They look at me quizzically. "But God is everywhere."

"Oh yeah," I mumble. "Sure, he's here like that, but not, like . . . physically. I mean I don't even know why you're here. I barely know the guy."

The taller one looks at his friend, who brightens, "But you do know that He is your Lord and Savior, right?"

I resolutely do not look at Jesus, even though I can't avoid seeing him twitch in my peripheral vision.

I'm not a good actor, and I'm having a hard time coming up with lines. "I don't know, I really believe more in democracy than all that lords and serf stuff. I'm not into feudalism, even allegorically."

The taller one tries again, "Well, may we have a moment of your time? We'd like to share with you His message of salvation."

I shake my head, "No, I don't think so. He can tell me Himself if I see him."

There's a smacking sound as Jesus slaps his own forehead and I can't avoid glancing sideways to see him glaring at me, and gesturing for me to close the door.

I push the knob, but I don't want to be rude, "I hope you find your friend," I say as the door clicks shut.

I throw the deadbolt, and look at Jesus. "Those guys were persistent."

He scrubs his beard, "You have no idea."

"What do they want anyway?" I ask.

He waves his hand, "Don't worry about it. Hey, race me again on Rainbow Road . . ."