Though the bar was dimly lit, there was illumination enough to set the glass a-sparkle. Satisfied, Joseph replaced it carefully on the shelf.
"Who's that fellow at the end of the bar?"
The question came from the morose customer hunched over the bar-top. He had been sitting there for at least an hour, steadily working his way through what had been a full bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label.
That said, Joseph did not believe the customer was intoxicated.
He was in a black mood when he entered, and he was still in a black mood.
If asked, however, Joseph could not honestly attribute his depression to the alcohol.
"I've heard him referred to as `Sonny'," Joseph replied, "but I don't think that's his real name.".
"He would have to be the most beautiful man I've ever seen", the customer responded, pushing his empty glass towards Joseph.
"And while you're pouring another shot, why don't you ask `Sonny' if he'd like a refill?"
Joseph smiled.
Only moments before he had been contemplating the extraordinary beauty of the customer in front of him. His swept-back locks shimmered golden, and his sapphire eyes were the eyes of an angel.
But, he was right about the character at the end of the bar. Sonny made the customer in front of him seem drab by comparison.
"Thank you, Gabriel."
Sonny settled himself on the nearest bar-stool, and smiled brilliantly at his benefactor.
"You know my name. Have we met?"
"It was a long time ago, Gabriel. But, if I recall correctly, you were working as the chief communications officer for Sovereign Lord. Tell me, are you still with them?"
"Yep," Gabriel replied, "I'm still there. Although, sometimes I wonder why."
"How so?"
"I'll tell you `how so', Sonny.
My career was made by two major exercises in communicating the intentions of Sovereign Lord.
It began with two baby boys, both born in unusual circumstances.
But, the men they grew into Sonny! You never saw such men.
I thought I was pretty good at talking to people, telling stories, but these guys, Sonny, they were phenomenal.
The older one was inspirational, but the younger one, well, he could perform miracles."
"Sovereign Lord must have been well pleased."
"You would have thought so, wouldn't you?
But, when everything turned sour, Sovereign Lord never lifted a finger to save them.
The older one had his head chopped-off. The younger one was tortured to death.
To tell you the truth, Sonny, I've never got over it.
Why bring such men into the world, and Sovereign Lord played a key role in their births, only to see them
both executed? I still don't understand why it was allowed to happen."
"You should come and work for me, Gabriel. My outfit takes very good care of its own."
"And your outfit is?"
"It has many names, Gabriel. In some places we're known as the Illumination Corporation.
In others Accusations International. Colloquially, people call us `King of the World', but we've yet to decide whether that's a compliment or an insult."
"And what is your name?" Joseph asked quietly.
"Because it's not Sonny, is it?"
"My names are legion, barman, with new ones being invented all the time."
"True enough," Joseph chuckled.
"But I fancy I know some of the old ones. `Son of the Morning' was one, hence `Sonny', I'm guessing. `The Accuser' was another. 'Satan' in Hebrew."
"I prefer the title `Lucifer', the light bringer, myself.
But, congratulations, young man, there's not many who can guess my name."
"Not so young, `Sonny'. I'm older than Gabriel, here, and though you may not believe it, I'm even older than you.
I'm here this evening to keep an eye on Gabriel until his supervisor, Michael, arrives to take him home."
"To Sovereign Lord. Who takes such good care of his prophets."
"Indeed."
"And which of them are you? Elijah? Jeremiah? Isaiah? Which of those pious fools are you? Because I don't recall any prophets going by the name of Joseph."
"But you know who I am, Sonny. We met nearly 2000 years ago, in the Galilean hills."
"I met no Josephs."
"Oh, Sonny! Joseph was my mother's husband's name."
Chris Trotter is an Auckland writer and commentator.
