I could feel him shivering. “But what if the ends are bad?”

“There’s nothing I can do about it if they are, so I have to trust they’re… if they’re not good or kind, at least they’re for something. Something real. Better some end than none.” Leaning close, I could almost pretend we were in the soft dark of Bridger’s cave. “The Greek Stoics said a human being is like a dog tied behind a moving cart. The dog can struggle, tug at the rope, dig its heels in, choke and suffer as it’s dragged, or it can trot along content and trust the Driver, though it still can’t understand the purpose of the journey, or its end.” I paused, watching distaste wrinkle his nose. “You don’t like the simile?”

“No.”

I nodded slowly. “Jehovah hates it too. He said any just Driver would let the dog sit with Him in the cart, and a just God would not create a creature incapable of understanding the journey.” My fingertip traced Bridger’s thumbnail, just starting to lose childhood’s softness. “You will learn about Jehovah, Bridger. You’ll meet Jehovah, it’s inevitable. I just wanted to wait until you’d grown up more, until you were mature and had a bash’, and solid grounding, and a plan. Until you were formed enough as a person that meeting him wouldn’t destroy and remake you the way it did me. But the crisis won’t wait. You need to learn about Jehovah now. Just not through me. Do it yourself. Spy. Scry. You have your crystal ball, your magic mirror, and your little army. You can watch Him from a distance, invade His house invisibly, read His notebooks, hack His tracker, see more than anyone can, without letting Him speak to you. Watch Him, judge Him, if you have questions for Him tell me and I’ll ask Him for you. When you understand enough about Him to be sure you can approach Him without being changed, then come to Him, and the two of you can figure out what must be done.”

The child’s fingers locked around mine. “I will if you come help me.”

“No.”

“You don’t have to tell me opinions, just tell me facts, like with Apollo.”

“No. I’m needed here.”

“Why?”

“Because Jehovah doesn’t have Mommadoll, or the army men, or Boo. Because everybody needs someone they can talk to freely about beliefs and doubts, and I’m the only one Jehovah has. Because Jehovah’s still young too, barely twenty-one, which may seem old to you but—”

“It doesn’t,” he interrupted. “I know twenty-one’s still young. With responsibilities like these fifty’s still young.”

“It is.” I smiled. “Most of all, I have to stay with Jehovah now because, if this crisis tears the world apart, Jehovah will be the One expected to make things right again.” I brushed back a spray of stray hair trapped by the sweat on Bridger’s forehead. “You’re right that you’ll need me, Bridger. When you’re ready to reshape the world you’ll need me to hook you up with the powerful people who can help you, but that’s the future, ten years or ten days from now, not tomorrow. Jehovah needs me tomorrow. It’s His time. He needs me to help Him keep the world on track, and to ensure that those powerful people I can call on are still here to help you when your time comes. That’s why I have to stay.” I squeezed his shoulders. “That’s why you have to go.”