“Verily. I’m Christ just now,” Window said. “That’s just super,” George exclaimed brusquely. “All we need, I’d say.” Then to Seven, “What the hell is really going on around here? Do you know? I’ll be so glad to get back to my ‘Tooth and Gums Business’ tomorrow that I’m tempted to pay the patients.”

Seven grinned sympathetically, but George said, “No kidding. I mean it. All this shit is driving me out of my mind. None of it should have happened—Christ healing Diggs; all those hallucinations or whatever they were at the restaurant; Window thinking he’s two people, Christ and some guy in the future. Tomorrow he goes back to the Center. That’s that!”

“Are you Judas?” Christ asked, with mild curiosity.

“No, godammit,” George replied. “I’m just a poor bemused tooth doctor.”

“If they crucify me….” Christ began.

“Will you stop that?” George interrupted, “They don’t crucify people in this country anyhow….”

“Bless you,” Christ answered.

“Hell,” George replied, “I like you better when you’re Window.”

At the same time, George’s voice turned quizzical: When Window thought he was Christ—aside from the pat phrases about Judas and getting crucified—there was an aura about him. Suddenly George leaned forward and said dramatically, “You aren’t really afraid of being crucified, are you? And you know I’m not Judas. What in the hell are you trying to pull? I’m mystified, I admit it.”

“Well,” demanded a voice, “are you going to tell him or not?”

George started with surprise as Gregory Diggs came in through the open back porch door. “What is this, a convention?” George said. “I suppose you couldn’t sleep, either.”

“I wasn’t about to leave you guys alone with Mr. Window here,” said Gregory, leering. Then to Seven, “Well?”

“Uh, it’s sort of a wild story,” Seven said, dubiously.

“Try me,” George responded dryly. He sat down at the kitchen table, sighing with mock despair; then grinning. “Come on, guys. Give. This is an elaborate put-on.”

This time Seven sighed. He put down his peanut butter sandwich, spread out his hands, and said, “This is it, the truth as we understand it after talking to Window-Christ-Monarch half the night. Ready?”

“Shoot,” George said. He crossed his legs. “Nothing will surprise me,” he added.

“Okay,” Seven answered. “Window, interrupt me if I say anything you don’t agree with. But it looks like this. That person” (he pointed to Window) “is the combination of the characteristics that belong to Window, Christ, and Monarch. Only for some reason, the characteristics are separate; he hasn’t put them together. Now he can heal. We know that. He claims to come from the future or to see into it when he’s Monarch.”

“Yeah?” George said, with a silly unbelieving grin.

“I am Monarch,” Window said suddenly and gently.

“Oh, Christ,” George sputtered, before Seven shushed him.