page 6 fathom friday december 14, 1979
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The Devil sat upon his endlessly complaining, thunder
ing cloud. Hie cloud, a damned and once named soul, was
griping about the horny gentleman's overstuffed behind.
The Devil dressed in the height of shabbiness. His designer
-Woolworth turned out his tweed, four button suit which
was frayed by the constant twitching of Satan's restless
claws. His perfectly red lips formed into a flapper's bee-,
stung pout. His face under his mimic's makeup hid
features as ugly as sin-a very tempting ugly. He looked
more like a fairy than a damned angel. A transvestite
carbaret singer. Yet his mouth held fangs as sharp as a
woman's retort. His eyes were as cold as a woman's kiss
can be. Hopping about on his damned throne and stroking
his tail, he thundered, "Hark! The time is now and The
Second Coming has arrived. Even now I hear the Lord's
heavy steps treading upon the earth."
Peering down at earth through his opera glasses, he
observed a classroom where the drama was taking place.
Laughing, he reached down into his snack bag which held
a million soul's running and hiding trying to avoid being
eaten. There was no place to hide. He withdrew two of
the pleading shadows and popped then into his greedy
mouth which devoured evil, leading it into the inky
insiders of Hell, That day upon his could he watched the
Lord die again,
"BANG I" a gun exploded, "Bang!" went a mocking
echo.
"Very well done," a dark votch explained to me, his
student. "But, next time aim for the heart, death can be
made so much more romantic than it really is with just a
little help of our imaginations. We'd all like that wouldn't
we?"
Such is 2012 A.D, after the plague, after humanity.
Resting my still smoldering rifle on the rack, I could
feel dagger sharp eyes inquiring about my every move, I v
turned and realized it was he, the Devil, "Hello," I said,
giving him a smug smile. He wasn't a stranger to me, I re
membered seeing him before in many different ways.
, "You missed everything but the end,"
"I know," the Devil bitched, "Shit, I was going to give
His Holiness a piece of my mind about how we should
better the relationship between goodness and evil. How
inconsiderate of him to die so early in the plot, I never did
trust Him, Too nice, if you know what I mean, Once I
tried to reason with him in the desert and he wouldn't
even give me a chance, Anyway tell me what I missed, the
plot, the players, Oh, do tell me, do fill me in on all the
latest gossip,"
"OK," I agreed, taking a chair under his hovering
cloud, "But first shut off that cloud's lamenting, It's not
that sad of a story, so it really shouldn't be crying, be
sides, it's getting me wet."
"IT ISNT CRYING for anyone in this story for it only
cries for itself," The Devil smirked, he took a pitch fork
and poked the cloud in its misty groin causing it to moan,
and then pass out. '
The plot and the setting started at the selling mar
ket..," "I know that part," the Devil interrupted, "I could
hear the yelping of barkers selling flesh as far as Hell,"
"Shut up, or else I won't tell you the story," I ordered,
Shutting up, the Devil closed his shadowy blue eyelids,
"We still rule the world. Humans still control it all, but
what is the world anyway? Is it worth , , ,"
"It's worth about ten cents of nothing," the Devil
smirked.
"As I was saying," I said, ignoring his rudeness, "The
earth is controlled by the Amo caste, The rest of the
tribes count less than nothing. The plague left man insane.
It formed some destinies to become rulers, some to
become animals, and all, both the proud and the low, will
eventually become food. I am a student, Some day after
my seven-year term I shall be a votch owning my own
class. As a student I prefer not to spill blood, Today most
of mankind spills blood as easily as they would spill wine
on a drunken spree. In order to learn about life one must
take life, so I take it, but I don't spill it, I don't think life
should be wasted."
"VERY NOBLE OF you, I bet he died glad knowing
that, the Devil said, opening his eyes very wide, much
too wide,
"Christ didn't really come," I told him. "Why should
He? Whos left to save? We're all insane except for me, I
have an imagination, so I imagine I'm sane."
The event started when I went to the selling market to
buy a slave. The barkers were having a white elephant sale
on-freshly caught animals. There amongst the human barn
smells and refuge I saw a man standing aloof from the rest
of the chained herd. He was pretty, and you could tell he
was of a very good stock. He had a look of good breeding
suggested especially by his long legs. His hair was a honey
blonde, and softly waved about his open, sweet face.
Baby-fine fuzz covered his chin, chest, and thighs. His
body invited petting. Not really in the mood to be in heat,
I merely noted these facts as being facts-not as sexy. He
was dressed in blue jean shorts and a leash encircled his
neck held by a balding, rubber-lipped barker. Every thing
about this personage was held captive but his eyes. They
darted about the selling market capturing the dumb sub
mission of animals being sold and the arrogance of buyers
buying. He understood that his small smile never left his
lips even when the barker bragged about his virtues to
propsective buyers. His understanding eyes also captured
my attention. Intrigued by something I wanted but wasn't
sure of, I bought him for thirty dollars, a bargain marked
down from thirty -six,
TAKING THE LEASH from his neck, I reached out to
hold his hand, I led him out of the smoke-filled market
into the heat of a midafternoon.
"Hi," I whispered, stroking his arm to calm down any
nervousness he felt. "I'm going to take you td your new
home. You'll like it, I'm sure you will."
"I am He!" he screamed loudly into my eardrum.
"What, animal, what are you yelling about?"
"Me, me, I, the Lord," he sang waving his arms in a
pleased flourish. '
I laughed and turned to face him, putting my hands on
his shoulders, and smiling into the bland innocence of his
becoming sensuous face, I purred, "Such foolishness, my
small one, Lord you say? What are you the Lord of?
Child, I'm a doubting Thomas, show me you're cuts."
"You are my cuts, mankind's hurts are my hurts my
wounds," he cried, His voice was loud with honesty and
many turned around to stare, Some stopped to laugh,
most just gave us a look and a shake of the head, then left
to where ever they were going. Then he kissed my cheek
and took my chin into his small hand, studying my
surprised face, he said, "You know you're much more
than just a doubting Thomas.-Perhaps you're John, per
haps. You'd like to be John, wouldn't you?"
"PERHAPS." I gulped. I didn't like what he was doing,
but I didn't want to end the game yet.
"You love me, don't you? I mean you like me, you're
my friend. I'm you're friend. Can be we friends?"
"I am your friend in a way, Child," I tapped his cheek
with my fingernail with a firmness I didn't feel. "But
you're a foot, there's no real men and women anymore,
Only humans whose minds and souls died in The Bloody
Plague, There's no one to save, You're too late."
In this world, humans not born in the right caste were
animals to be hunted down and sold as slaves or food.
They made good eating. Their flesh had a dry and sweet
taste, White wine complimented the meat to a "T.M The
slaves in turn would eat our flesh when we grew too old to
be useful. That is why my votch is so nervous. HeVsixty
nine, He'll celebrate his next birthday in a gas chamber,
then on a butcher's block, ending it in a slave's stretched
stomach. Old people's meat tasted like the smell of rot.
Life isn't valued, to man isn't valued.
"Man's still alive," the animal lectured, kissing my
scarred cheek. "By the way, you may call me Josh,"
"Lovely, an animal with' a name. Well, I'm pleased to
meet you, please do call me Jude," '
"COME ON, JUDE. Come into the Temple, Come one,
come all!" my pet urged, running into the crowded streets
towards the church, "Life is a wedding feast, join it, join
me!" He ran to the Temple with me in close pursuit. He.
gained the advantage with his much longer legs, and made
it to the Temple before I did. The Temple, marvelously
white, stood out from the barren huts which surrounded
it. Once I got there I found Josh talking to a Temple
whore marvelously dressed in white. "Life is a wedding
feast," he was telling her,
Yes, it is," Moll, the whore, agreed, giving him an eye
balling. "Let me show you how good the honeymoon part
can be."
Moll was a slut who sold the image of God. But every
one was selling or buying the image of God, so she was
considered respectable if lower class.
"Yes," he laughed, reaching for her. "It's fine." He
pulled her into his lusting arms, blessing her with long
kisses.
I watched feeling rather out of place; thinking, "How is
that good? Just a form of reproducing if you ask me, and
we have enough kids in this world.'
"Excuse me, Josh, but why is that good?" I asked,
pulling him out of her flesh trap.
"Because it's life, life," John cheered, swinging me
around the room and knocking over the preacher's pulput
which held'MoH's money.
"Life? Well, I suppose it's a living isn't it, Moll?"
"IT'S A LIVING at least. What's your's?" she smugly
sneered, kneeling to pick up her money that laid scattered
on the silver gilt floor. She leaned back on her knees,
giving me a smile, then she licked her bright hollow mouth
with the soft tip of her tongue.
"Don't talk to me. You're meat.just aphyscialtreat."
She rocked on her knees, laughing. Her laugh sound
ed like the cold rasp of the coins she picked up and tossed
to the floor for the effect the sound made. "Yes, I'm
meat, rather tasty meat at that. We're all meat my.dear.
Some make better eating than others do."
Taking my arm, Josh led me to a corner, "Jude," he
pleaded, his eyes reaching into mine. "Let me be free to
join life."-.
"Are you the Lord? Is she the life?"
"Her flesh is of peaches-round, soft peaches formed
into a body smelling of Tumorous invitations. She's alive,
she's a spring all open to life and laughter. You're dead.
Your breasts are stapled to your rib cage. Your eyes are
sinking ships carrying no treasures. Scars run down across
your face to your neck-scars done by your own hand.
Done to appease your. gods, your dead life, your dead
mind. If I stay withyou I'm lost, can't you see that?";
IF I WAS ANYTHING less than what I am, his words
would have cut me more and left more painful scars than
the religious ones I bear on my face to identify myself to
the world as a student. I smiled a pretended smile, I told
him through taunt lips which twisted like wire, that I
could see why he sould be set free, He wasn't looking at
me. He was watching Moll put coins through her loose :
lips; she tasted their coolness and then took them out of
her mouth, enjoying their wetness.
As I turned and went towards the exit, 1 had to pause
and watch him for a while. "OK, Josh, save mankind, go
ahead and try. Good luck."
He didn't say anything; he was starting to make love to
her on the gilt floor, ' '
Stopping the story, I eyed the Devil upon his throne.
"You saw the ending, didn't you?"
"Yes, Josh was captured by the Temple police. Moll
sold him to them for silver. The votch bought him for
target practice tonight. You watched him crying behind
his chains which held him still to the wall. -You raised
your rifle to your shoulder and judged the distance. He
screamed; you smiled. You waited and he asked you for
help. He said your name over and over again. You shot
him; he died. You betrayed him. You could have saved
him by buying him from your votch, Now the votch is
carrying his bleeding body to the butcher's block."
"RIGHT."
"And now," he said, fire caressing his lips. "You will
hang yourself from a tree. And Moll, he barkers, and the
votch will become saints. And Josh will rise from the
supper table to set the world on fire."
"Wrong." I yawned. "I dont feel like killing myself.
I'd never kill myself on a Sunday. I wash my hair on Sun
days. Moll will still be a whore. My votch. will still be the
main course on his birthday. The barkers will still sell
meals and gods in the marketplace. Josh shall remain on
the supper table garnished with carrots and onions I
believe HI eat out tonight."
Sighing, the Devil poured himself a glass of red, wet
wine. He toasted, "To you, Josh, you weren't the real
thing. . . "
"But whatever is?" I said, finishing the toast for him
"Wait till next year and the next for the real thing Devil "
"Then," Satan scoffed. 'To celebrate I'll drink a Coca
Cola." "And I shall pour it for you."
Kristine Borowiak
second place
fiction
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