Ryan's Suffering

by Lloyd Paulson

  I stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Bullshit."

  "If you say so, Ryan. But I’ll tell you another thing; you’re very existence is an affront to God. That’s part of the flood story, of Noah. The Watcher Angels rebelled against God. Not only did they breed with humans, they brought forbidden knowledge to man. Warfare. Astronomy. Chemistry. And worse things developed. Sodomy. Cannibalism. Incest. Not only was God wiping out the sinners, he was wiping out the rebel angels and the crossbreeds. The chief demon of hell, Mastema, intervened, though. Struck a bargain with heaven. One tenth were bound over to become demons of hell. So that’s been your fate since the day you were born: Hell, in one form or another."

  "I still say your entire story is bullshit."

  He sighed and then smiled. "Well, for someone who’s been into what you call the Shadow Lands and has seen what you’ve seen and done what you’ve done then, you’re probably an idiot. But that doesn’t matter now, it’s almost over. I’ve won. But tell me this. What’s your one fatal weakness right now?"

  I shrugged.

  He frowned. "Aw, come on. Guess."

  "Self-pity."

  "Eh, Close. But no banana. You are too mired in self-loathing for something as mundane as self-pity to bring you down. Always a whiner. Always a whiner."

  He smiled down at me again. "Guess again. We’re talking fatal flaws here. Achilles’ heels. Weaknesses. Come on….guess!"

  "My father."

  "Nope. Still stuck on that shit, eh? Get over it, man. My god. Get a new line. Oh my bleeding fucking heart. That’s all I hear from him, too. How you’re such a fuck up, screwed shit up, worthless piece of shit, blah blah blah. My god, that was over a decade ago. Move the fuck on, gentlemen…Eh, no matter. It is finished, now. It’s all aftermath, as you like to say, me fine bucko."

  He stood up. "It’s too bad things were this simple for me. No challenge. Not like last time. It’s almost anticlimactic. So boring. I was so hoping we’d have a better resolution to that night eleven years ago. Your dear old pappy does have a point, though. You did fuck things up royally."

  He sighed, and leaned against the doorframe. "No chance I’ll find you in the Shadows again?"

  I blinked.

  He sighed again. "Didn’t think so. Eh, well." He shrugged. "Time to go. I’ll be seeing you again, soon. You’ll be welcome in the Cauldron, when this is over. It’s always been your fate, you know, and they’ve been expecting you."

  He bucked himself away from the doorframe. He glanced over at the cat. "Well, toodles, you little fuckwad. Our little friend and you will be joining us soon."

  He stepped towards the door, and then leaned back. "Oh, the answer was Trish and the kids, by the way. But there’ll be plenty of entertainment prior to that. Trust me on that score."

  I blinked as he disappeared without opening the door. It was as if he faded into nothing.

  I glanced at the cat. The cat was staring at the doorway, and slowly turned to look at me.

  Heaven and Hell? God? My father, a Nephilim? Moreover, I was an Elioud. That implied my grandfather was an Angel, and that meant I was part Angel. Not very fucking likely. Right?

  I flipped the cat the bird again. The cat yawned.

  ~~~~~~ *LP* ~~~~~~

  Rob stepped into the room, unannounced, shortly after breakfast. I couldn’t remember what breakfast consisted of. I had eaten it mechanically, staring at the wall. It wasn’t memorable. That’s the hallmark of institutional chefs. They could render anything tasteless, lest they offend someone’s pallet.

  I opened my eyes, and stared at him flatly.

  "How are you today?"

  I just stared at him blankly. It didn’t seem real. It seemed more like I was watching a TV. I waited.

  He shrugged self-consciously, and adjusted his tie before looking back up at me. "Well, you were indicted yesterday, and you are being transferred over to the county jail this morning. No bail."

  I still stared at him. I didn’t really give a fuck anymore. He glanced away. I saw the cat was not on the windowsill, and turned back to stare at Rob again.

  Rob fidgeted for a few minutes. "Psychologist says you have a history of mental problems, but it was his opinion that you were of sound mind and knew the difference between right and wrong for the time in question."

  He peered at me curiously. "Is any of this registering?"

  I waited a few seconds, and then nodded slightly.

  "You ok?"

  I looked around the room, noticing the weird flat quality of the world. I knew this feeling. It was familiar. Nothing mattered much anymore. I returned his gaze, and I shrugged.

  "Well, looks like an insanity defense is out for the moment. Was a long stretch anyway, insanity defense rarely flies in court. Another thing the TV always gets wrong. You want a second opinion?"

  I shrugged again, and stared off out the window.

  He pulled a teddy bear out of a bag. "Someone sent this to my office. Said you might like it with you."

  He set the teddy bear on the windowsill.

  I stared at the bear, utterly nonplussed.

  Rob waited a few minutes and then left quickly, citing pending appointments.

  I said nothing, and stared at the bear.

  The bear stared back with an equally flat gaze.

  I didn’t waver. I no longer cared. The bear knew all.

  ~~~~~~ *LP* ~~~~~~

  They sent a couple of deputies to transport me. They watched quietly as a large male nurse’s aide helped me get dressed. I said nothing, and ignored the pain of moving around.

  The deputies stared at me as if I were a bug. The bear watched us, silent.

  The gorilla of a nurse’s aide ignored my grimaces as he helped me dress. I didn’t blame him. I wasn’t a human being. I was a prisoner. I was the ‘one’ everyone was talking about.

  The deputies manacled my legs, tightly. I stared at the deputy as he cuffed my good hand. The handcuff bit into my skin. I was sure he did it on purpose. I refused to flinch. Fuck him.

  They led me into the hall, and shoved me into a wheel chair.

  I was wheeled out into the overly bright summer morning. It was already hot and humid. Lake Michigan’s usually a hell of a temperature buffer. With the predominant weather pattern coming from the west, the Lake’s just a giant heat sink. In the summer, it knocks us down a few notches on the thermometer, and in the winter, it warms things up a bit. Apparently, the Lake wasn’t doing its goddamned job today.

  A county sheriff’s van was parked at the curb, idling. I was grabbed by my upper arms and hauled out of the wheel chair. I didn’t complain, and let them shove me into the back of the van.

  One of the deputies climbed in after me. I saw he was holding the damned teddy bear. He was twisting and mangling the damned bear as he glared at me. Apparently, he thought that teddy bear was a very special memento of mine.

  It was a short ride over to the county jail.

  They processed me in. Inventoried my personal items. Took my picture. Issued me clothes and bedding. I said nothing.

  The numerous inmates threatened me several times, as the guards led me to my cell. I ignored them.

  The guards that led me to my cell snickered. "You ain’t too popular around here."

  They tossed my bedding on the lower bunk. "Maybe one of these punks will save the county some money and shank your ass before trial."

  The other guard laughed hysterically. "I wouldn’t stop ‘em, but I have a feeling they’re going to shank his ass a few times first before they shank his ass for good, if you catch my drift." He went back to giggling again.

  I stared blankly at them as the slid the cell door shut.

  The shorter guard smiled. "Yeah. They gonna treat you real nice up in here. Gotta special welcome party planned for you in just a bit. Introduce you just right. Good luck, fucker."

  The goddamned teddy bear was swinging from the upper bunk, in a well-made hangman’s noose.

  ~~~~~~ *LP* ~~~~~~


  Hell, I think, is banishment from the sight of God. I know this in my heart. You’re no longer worthy of God’s anger. God no longer cares. You are persona non grata. Anger implies care. Cold indifference is far more terrible, far crueler, and far more final.

  As a child, I learned God would not answer my prayers. He could not make me into a good child. I was naturally bad, it was my fault, and there could be no redemption for a child like me. I did not know why, but I understood that I had been forsaken.

  I prayed incessantly for god to help me.

  I tried to be good. I tried to do the right thing. I tried to be redeemed. I memorized the scripture in Sunday school. Good people go to heaven. Bad people suffered hell, with wailing and gnashing of teeth, fire, and brimstone.

  Now I wonder if hell is actually cold and dark. If god is warmth and light, hell must be the opposite, right? When you are removed from the sight of god, there can only be blindness and lies for lost souls to wander in agony within the pit.

  I believed in god, once upon a time. We are told God believes in us, but then why was I left to suffer as a child, with no redemption?

  I believed in the saving grace of our Lord, just as they taught me.

  The church told me it wasn’t enough just to say it. You had to know it, deep in your heart. Only then could you be saved. Only then could god’s grace shine down upon you. Only then could god bless you with health and happiness.

  I wanted happiness. I wanted to be good.

  I didn’t want to be the bad child.

  I didn’t want to suffer any more.

  However, God didn’t save me.

  I must not have believed enough. Maybe there was some secret sin I was committing. I searched. I prayed harder. I memorized more lines of scripture for Sunday school.

  One that always stuck out to me was Matthew 19:14. Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.

  I suffered. I repented. I pleaded with god.

  I wanted peace and happiness. I wanted to feel the grace of god. To be accepted.

  Maybe I was just a whiny brat, pestering a god who could care less about a bad child who couldn’t learn.

  I went to our pastor, and tried to talk to him.

  I asked him if Satan made us do bad things.

  He told me no. Satan only encourages us. The bad things are already inside of us. We need to ignore them, and do the right thing.

  I told him I try to do the right thing, but it’s never good enough.

  He told me that all things are possible through faith in god.

  I asked him about the people who walked in the Shadows. Were they good or bad?

  He asked me what I meant. I said the people that other people can’t see. I wanted to know if they were angels or demons.

  He told me I had an active imagination. People couldn’t see angels or demons anymore.

  I asked why not.

  He said it was part of god’s new covenant. He no longer directly talked to people, but worked through them instead, through their faith.

  I said I could see these people; they were here right now.

  He asked me what I meant.

  I pointed right next to him. I told him there was a young man standing next to him, but he was wearing a dress. His name was Chris, and the pastor knew him from college. They used to dress up in women’s clothes together.

  He told me I was lying. There was no one there.

  I bit my lip, trying to keep from crying. I told him he was right there. Chris’s face was purple, and he was wearing a dress covered in leaves and dirt. Chris said the pastor was wearing pink lace panties right now.

  The minister whispered in shock that I couldn’t possibly know anything about that. No one knew.

  I told him that Chris was right there. Chris said he did this to him. He had abandoned Chris when Chris had needed him the most.

  He looked at me, his face turning red. He told me that Chris had done that to himself. He hissed at me to get thee away from me, Satan.

  I started crying. I told him it was the truth, and I wasn’t making it up.

  He called me a liar.

  I told him I was trying to be good, I was trying to understand god. I didn’t want to be bad anymore.

  He told me I was an abomination before god.

  I pleaded with him. Help me be good. Help me to love god so god will finally love me and I wouldn’t be bad anymore. I didn’t want to be bad anymore. So desperately, I didn’t want to be a bad child.

  He told me to get out of the house of the lord, and to stop spreading lies.

  He told me I was an abomination. He told me to get out of the lord’s house, never return.

  I cried, and pleaded for help. He rose, as if to hit me. I fled to the sanctuary, and found my mother.

  She had a discussion with the minister.

  We never returned to church.

  At home, my cat that no one else could see was discussed. The people that no one else could see were discussed.

  They didn’t exist.

  I was getting too old for such non-sense. It was time to put away childish things.

  I cried myself to sleep. I thought I had found my secret sin, the sin that was stopping me from knowing god’s grace.

  I had been listening to false gods. I was like the Witch of Endor, waking prophets from the dead. I was a magician. A charlatan. My grey cat was really just a golden calf.

  I ignored the cat. I ignored the Shadows. They didn’t exist. Once they were forgotten, and I no longer saw them or remembered them, then I would be accepted into god’s grace.

  I just knew it. I wanted it, with all my heart and soul. I did my best.

  Still wasn’t good enough.

  There was always the closet, perhaps it could be beaten out of me.

  Endurance, baby.

  And those screams will haunt me to my fucking grave. Can you dig it?

  ~~~~~~ *LP* ~~~~~~

  "Knock, Knock, Motherfucker."

  I rolled over on the bunk to see who was banging on the cell door.

  Two prisoners were standing outside my cell, peering in, with two guards standing behind them. Oh, joy. I sat up, sighing.

  "Seems like we have a celebrity here. Come by to pay our respects. Didn’t we?"

  The sidekick goon snickered at the sophomoric wit of the buff and tough motherfucker who was here to harass and probably fuck me up. The prison guards didn’t even crack a smile, and were both wearing sunglasses. Joe Cool asked me if they thought that those shades made them look more intimidating. I glanced around my cell, and apparently, my options for weapons included blankets, flip-flops, a pillow, and a bear in a hangman’s noose. Fucking wonderful. This was going to blow donkey balls.

  One of the guards grabbed his radio mic, and keyed up. "Unlock 14E."

  I heard the harsh buzz of my mag-lock cycling, and the goon pushed my cell door open. The guards nonchalantly walked away, whistling. The goon and the intimidating buff workout motherfucker sauntered into my cell. Great. SOB started babbling about two to gangbang, two to gangbang. JC and I both told him to shut the fuck up.

  "How ya liking it so far? Food Ok? Getting settled in? Joined up the PTA and all that?"

  I sighed. "Apparently I need to join the neighborhood watch, but so far so good otherwise."

  "Yeah? That’s good. That’s real good. Well, I got some good news and some bad news for ya. Good news is, you’re going to still be breathing when I leave. Bad news is you’re going to wish you were dead. You see, the screws around here say you know where those kiddies are. So, my job is to get that information out of ya."

  "But I don’t…"

  He put a finger on my lips.

  Then he squatted down in front of me. "The problem is, and what they didn’t count on, is I know what you already know. They’re probably dead. So I’m not going to bother asking you. Not much point in it. I don’t give a fuck what you know or don’t know. I don’t even give a fuck what you
think. Instead, I’m just going to fuck you up, and just tell them that I asked and you wouldn’t tell. How’s that sound, pretty boy? That sound like a fucking plan?"

  I just looked at him blankly. "Sounds like a shitty deal for me, but hey, go for it. I don’t have any other plans for the day."

  A frown crossed his face. "I don’t think you understand."

  I still stared at him blankly, though inwardly I was terrified. It was a struggle to maintain the blank look and even breathing without shaking or breaking into a sweat. Infinite Patience and Control, don't abandon me now.

  "No, I got you five by five. You’re going to beat the shit out of me for the fuck of it, ‘cuz some shithead guards think I know something that I don’t. But instead of doing it, you’re busy bullshitting about it. What are you, chickenshit? Quit jerking off and do it, for fuck’s sake. You don’t have all day. What do you have, about fifteen minutes before the damned turn screws come back and check on us?"

  The buff motherfucker actually recoiled slightly from my tirade. I yawned and started chewing my fingernail. It was an outrageous bit of theatrics, and even Joe Cool wanted to know what the fuck I thought I was doing. I told him that unless he had any better ideas, stuff a fucking sock in it, pull his fucking thumb out of his ass, and think of something fast.

  Too fucking late. The other goon snatched me up off the bunk, twisted me around, and hammer-locked me into a choke hold just as neat as you please. The buff motherfucker popped up off the bunk like a jack-in-the-box, pulling a sharpened toothbrush from his waistband. He pressed the shank up against the left side of my chest, hard.

  I squirmed trying to break free to draw a breath of air since all I could do was wheeze, and Goon #2 behind me was breathing heavily into my ear. His voice was excruciatingly loud, from this close. "Quit fucking around."