Pondering Problems

Twenty year old Aviva sat alone in her room at her desk, dressed in light green pajamas. A Macbook Air was propped in front of her, and a textbook titled Philosophy of Religion laid to the right of the laptop. A Microsoft Word document was open, though it was bare of any writing.

“Ugh…” She sighed as she slumped back into her chair. Her eyes drifted up past the computer screen and out the window that hung over the desk. The only view she had of the outdoors was a tree, as her parents thought it a phenomenal idea to plant one right in front of her only window. It beat staring at the bookcase directly behind her that held more boring textbooks, or her unkempt single-bed to her right.

The tree rustled outside and a breeze came into the room.

“Hmph.” Aviva sat up and leaned forward to check if she had opened the window earlier and just forgot. Her fingers found the cold metal of the lock. It was definitely closed.

“Having trouble writing, dear?” A voice came from behind her.

As she turned around, she came face to face with a tall, clean shaven man. His dark black hair flowed behind him, down to the bottom of his neck. He wore black sweatpants and a wife-beater. His exposed arms were well built, though his white skin had a bit of a red tint to it.

“Who are‒”

Aviva was cut off by a rough whoosh of air, as two pure white wings popped out from the man’s back.

“How’s that writing assignment going?” He motioned at the blank Word doc on the screen.

“G-good…” She glanced back at the laptop before returning her gaze to the winged person. “Though I don’t see why it would concern you ‒ uh ‒ by the way, which one are you?”

“Which one?” He scoffed. “There is only one angel with these wings, my dear.”

“So…” Her voice trailed off. “Lucy?”

“Indee‒” He cleared his throat as his wings ruffled a bit. “Lucy?”

“Yea that’s what your brother called you when I spoke to him yesterday.”

“My brother?”

“Michael.”

“That explains why you’re not weirded out by this.”

“Not at all.” She twirled her chair around once, keeping her eyes on Lucifer the entire time. “I prayed for some help, so I expected one of you to show up.”

“Mortals these days…” Lucifer scoffed again. “Back in my day, people would pray to win a war. Now kids are praying for good test grades. How humanity has fallen…”

“Yea, so‒”

“Ya know.” He ignored her. “I warned Dad about this.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“Anyways.” He sat down on her bed, pushing the crumpled blanket out of his way. “What’s the deal with your paper?”

“I have to write about an antidote.”

“An antidote?” He slumped forward, pressing his elbows on his thighs. “For what?”

“Anything.”

“Well that’s not very specific.” He frowned. “Or helpful.”

“Welcome to philosophy.”

“I got an idea.”

Lucifer snapped his fingers four times. A few moments after the last snap, the Earth rumbled briefly. An iron smell flooded the air as a pool of blood seeped up from the wooden floors. It boiled and bubbled, then rose into a humanoid figure, slowly solidifying, with the occasional slushy-sounds. The final product was a blonde man in a dark red suit. His eyes flashed the same color as his clothing as he adjusted the collar of his pink button down shirt.

“Been a while.” Lucifer nodded at him. “Where are the others?”

“Famine is a no-show.” The man rolled his eyes. “He’s a bit busy in Hungary.”

“And Pestilence?” Lucifer waved his hand around. “Or is it Pollution. What’s he goin’ by these days?”

“Also a no-show.” He unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat next to Lucifer. “So I hear we’re trying to find an antidote for something?”

“Wait.” Lucifer put his arm around him. “What about‒”

The Earth rumbled again and the faint sound of a neighing horse echoed outside. The room’s temperature dropped for a second, then returned to normal.

“You called?” A man in nothing but a gray loincloth appeared in front of the door that stood right next to the bookcase. His skin was pale, and hair, ragged. Two black wings extended from his back, though patches of feathers were missing in random spots.

Lucifer and the man in red turned around simultaneously, swinging their legs over to the other side of the bed to address him.

“Interesting…” Lucifer scratched his chin. “The wings are new.”

“I appear to mortals as they see me.” The pale-skinned man nodded at Aviva. “She is Jewish, and thus, I am the angel of death, but I am also a horseman to you, which is why I arrived here on horseback.”

“In other words.” The man in red chuckled to himself. “Identity crisis?”

“War…” Death nodded at his fellow horseman. “Always a pleasure to have a chat with one of my more reliable suppliers.”

“Seriously?” Aviva threw her arms in the air. “You called War and Death to help me write a paper about an antidote?”

“Pfft.” Lucifer turned his head back to her. “What is an antidote, anyways? It’s a solution. And what do you need a solution for? A problem. These two guys have plenty and plenty of problems, so they could give you some ideas as to what needs a-fixing.”

Aviva rolled her eyes.

“The biggest problem in this universe is life, if you ask me.” Death’s wings flapped once, causing some feathers to fall off. “I should know. I’ve been dealing with it since Creation.”

“That stopped being funny after the millionth time you’ve made that joke, man.” Lucifer sighed. “I mean. Come on.”

“Well.” War spoke up. “I think the biggest problem in this world‒”

“He’s gonna say peace…” Aviva muttered to herself.

“Is peace.” He continued.

She rolled her eyes again.

“Alright.” Lucifer interjected. “Let’s try and think out of the box, shall we?”

“Ok guys.” Aviva waved her hands around for their attention. “These are the things I’ve thought about using for this paper: an antidote for depression, cancer, stress, fear, or loneliness, but they all seem so mundane to me and hard to explain.”

“Well…” Lucifer grinned. “I can think of something that all those things share in common.”

Death, War, and Aviva all looked at him expectantly.

“Well?” They said in unison.

“Pain.” The fallen angel spoke with his chin up, making it very obvious how much he enjoyed this topic.

“Hm…” Aviva tapped her desk with her fingers over and over as she thought. “Well. Ok. Let’s look at pain. Is there an antidote for it? Could something solve pain?”

“I’m sure there’s some sciencey explanation that could theoretically cause pain to stop.” War grunted. “But this is philosophy, and if this is philosophy, the better question to ask is, if a bunch of scientists come up with an antidote for pain, should it be implemented?”

A smile twisted its way onto Death’s face. “Go on…”

“Pain makes you fight harder for what you believe in.” War nudged Lucifer’s abdomen with his elbow to get his attention. “The amount of times I’ve seen people on the battlefield pull off some ridiculous feat of strength because they were in pain ‒ both physical and psychological pain, I might add ‒ is innumerable. Achilles, King Leonidas, Julius Caesar, Joan of Arc, George Washington‒”

“We get it.” Lucifer patted War’s chest. “Pain is a part of being human, so to cure pain would be to cure a part of human nature, or at least a specific aspect of it.”

“Answer this, Aviva.” Death stepped closer to the bed. “What is the point of an antidote?”

“Uh…” She scrunched her nose “To cure a problem.”

“And would you say things categorized as ‘problems’ are considered evil?”

“That seems like an oversimplification.” She smacked her lips. “But yes, I guess.”

“So then no matter what antidote you are writing about, the goal is the same: you are trying to solve a problem.”

“With that, I agree.” Lucifer added. “So what are you getting at?”

“What is the point of solving a problem, if problems will always exist?” Death resumed. “Why create an antidote for something, when another evil will simply take its place?”

“As a wise person once said.” Aviva shook her fist in the air. “ ‘One crisis at a time.’ ”

“Perhaps…” Death’s voice sounded hoarse for that word. “But do you think that the antidote that solves one problem is the one that births the next one in the first place?”

“This is getting too confusing for me.” War groaned.

“Of course it is.” Death chided him. “You are nascent in the long line of Creation. I have seen much more than you. I have thought much more than you.”

“Now, now.” Lucifer cleared his throat. “We’re not here to bicker like the Golden Girls.”

“Wait a minute.” Aviva burst from her chair. “If what you say is true, that solutions birth more problems simply by solving problems, then we need to find a solution for solutions?”

Lucifer and War looked at each other with confused looks.

“I hate kids.” The fallen angel face palmed.

“I hate philosophy.” War mimicked the gesture.

A knock on the door resounded throughout the room, followed by a female voice: “Honey? Aviva?”

Death, War and Lucifer had all vanished. The room went black for a moment, and the next thing Aviva saw was the blurry sight of her Philosophy of Religion textbook lying down in front of her face. Her cheek felt cold, and as she lifted her groggy head, she realized she had fallen asleep on her Macbook Air. She combed her hair out of her face as the door creaked open.

“Aviva?” A woman with short brunette hair dressed in the same light-green pajamas as her stepped into the dark room. The light from the hallway illuminated her face and clothing. “I was about to go to bed when I heard you muttering. Were you sleep-talking again?”

“Must’ve been.” She yawned wide while stretching her arms in the air.

“I’m sure you had a very interesting discussion with yourself.” The woman half-smiled. “Now try falling asleep in your bed instead of on your laptop, sweety.”

“You don’t know the half of it…” Aviva chuckled to herself.

The mother blew a kiss to her before leaving Aviva back to her dreams.