Clovenhoof 05 Beelzebelle

by Heide Goody

  Michael regarded this new ark and considered the general similarities and differences between them.

  Well, the basic ark was surprisingly similar. Chip, like Noah, had got his measurements right. The new ark, like its predecessor, nestled in a hollow in the ground, ready to be lifted aloft by the flood waters. And it was currently raining. Admittedly, if the second flood was going to be enacted through a persistent but light drizzle, then it might take a little longer to cause global panic. Maybe God might indeed unlock the springs of the earth once more and bring sudden and primordial destruction to even the highest mountaintops.

  There were very few further similarities to be noted. Maybe the surrounding tower blocks did superficially remind Michael of the stubby Mesopotamian mountains near Noah’s home. Maybe. And, certainly, both arks were surrounded by a high level of industry. Beyond that …

  Michael recalled very little full-body nudity during the first flood. He was fairly sure that bare-breasted women weren’t engaged in a milk-squirting war. Nor were various naked people engaged in vocal protests regarding the nature of art, love of one’s own body, or the right to wander the countryside without any underpants. And, first time round, Satan (who was nicely locked up in the depths of Hell at the time, thank you!) was definitely not stood atop a disco truck, spraying all and sundry with foam.

  With eyes averted, and doing his very best to squeeze through the crowd without actually touching anything, Michael made his way towards the church building.

  Ben struggled to maintain any control of the bouncy castle situation. Spartacus had declared himself King of the Nipple, and ordered his friends to bring him gifts as he wobbled on top of the left breast like a buckaroo.

  “Spartacus Wilson, you shouldn’t be eating sweets on there. You’ll make a horrible mess,” he called.

  “It’s fine,” said Jefri Rehemtula, appearing behind Ben and rushing at the castle. “We can clean it off with this.”

  He sprayed formula milk from one of the sample bottles and tossed another to Spartacus so that he could retaliate.

  “What on earth are you doing? You shouldn’t be doing that!” yelled Ben, worried that if he got the breasts all milky, he’d be the one who’d have to clean it off.

  “Well, your mate is,” shouted Jefri. “That one that Sparts’s nan calls a wanton hussy. And so’s Sparts’s mom. I reckon it’s part of the fun day. Some naked guy is taking photos of them all, anyway,” said Jefri.

  “Proper naked, with his tackle all out?” said Spartacus. “I’ve always wondered if pubes go grey on old people. Was he old?”

  “Well,” said Jefri, swelling with importance. “He’s really old, like forty or something, but he has no pubes. I think he’s shaved them off.”

  “We should report him to the police for impersonating a woman or something,” said Spartacus. “That’s just gross.”

  Ben frowned, unsure how to respond. At that moment, he saw PC Pearson jogging around the corner and talking into his radio.

  “Lima Zulu Papa to control. We’ve got a large public order issue here at the Consecr8 church on Beechmount Drive.”

  The radio crackled back. “Lima Zulu Papa, are you liaising with the fraud squad?”

  “Fraud squad?”

  “Yes. We’ve just had a call from them at the same location. They’re requesting backup in order to go in and make an arrest.”

  “Right. Just one thing, control. Are the fraud squad officers fully clothed?”

  “Lima Zulu Papa, repeat the question please.”

  “I said, are they fully clothed, control? I just want to know how I’ll recognise them in this crowd.”

  Ben watched PC Pearson plunge back into the sea of naked people, looking for his colleagues. Before he could get back to the problem of how to impose some sort of order on the bouncy castle, he heard someone call out to him.

  “Ben! Have you seen Michael?”

  It was Michael’s boyfriend Andy, accompanied by the Reverend Zack.

  “Oh, hi. Did you check the disco and the protest?” asked Ben.

  “If you mean the fight and the fight then yes, we did. It doesn’t look as if he’s there.”

  “Perhaps he’s in the church then,” said Ben. “Can I interest you in any leaflets? I think your church is listed in here, Reverend.”

  “No thank you, Ben. To tell you the truth, we’re a little bit worried about Michael. Andy came to see me with some concerns about his recent behaviour. Would you say he’s been acting strangely?”

  Ben gave it a moment’s thought.

  “No, not especially. The only thing I thought was a bit odd was when we were in the sewers and he said he’d never heard of Scooby Doo. I mean, everyone’s heard of Scooby Doo, haven’t they?”

  A look passed between Andy and Zack, but Ben wasn’t at all sure what it signified.

  “Thanks, Ben. We’ll have another look round, see if we can see him,” said Andy.

  Michael found Chip in his office.

  “Ah, Michael. It’s gratifying to see you here at this time,” said Chip.

  “I came to check on the DNA library. All of the samples are stored, ready for your journey.”

  “My journey?” Chip frowned. “You know, I regard you as a trusted member of the flock.”

  “Thank you, but I’ve been thinking about that …”

  “And your place aboard the ark is assured.”

  “That’s very nice but …”

  “And I need a trusted member of the flock to carry out some vital work for me.”

  “Surely Freddy’s your assistant,” said Michael, not wanting to get side-tracked with admin tasks.

  Chip steepled his hands together.

  “While young Freddy’s devotion has been exemplary, when things become a little more difficult, the church needs people who are prepared to fight for it, to do what’s necessary. The church needs warriors, Michael. I think that you could be a warrior.”

  Michael couldn’t help grinning at that. “You’re so right Chip. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Chip stood up and started to pace.

  “A prophet is without honour in his own country. Jesus said that.”

  “Or something very much like it,” agreed Michael.

  “There are people who have made it their business to stand in the way of our vision here at Consecr8. Muck-raking journalists, so-called officers of the law and, most pressingly, certain members of the public who are egging them on. You know who I refer to?”

  “I think so.”

  “I need a warrior to remove them from the situation. Permanently.”

  “It almost sounds as if you want me to kill them, Chip.”

  Chip’s eyes gleamed. He stopped pacing and placed his hands down flat on the desk, leaning forward for emphasis.

  “Yes, mate, that’s exactly what I want. There are pressures bearing down upon me from all sides. I have a job to do here, and it’s a job that I’m taking very seriously. Now, are you with me for the final push?”

  Michael thought carefully about what to say to Chip. The manic fervour that emanated from him was almost tangible, and Michael suspected that a reasoned argument was doomed.

  “Chip, did you ever consider that your plan might be wrong?” he asked.

  Chip was shocked into silence, as though he had been slapped across the face. “Not for an instant, Michael!”

  “Not one?”

  “It’s like I always say when it comes to faith. You just know. In here.” He thumped his chest. “A person can never prove faith to you. We all make our own journey to God. I’ve seen signs, Michael, signs that this is what I’m meant to do.”

  “What sort of signs, Chip?”

  “Signs that not only is the world drifting blindly towards its own doom – singing as its skirts fill with water – but that this town is the centre of a global pandemic of sinfulness.”

  “Really? Are you sure that there aren’t more Godless places than Sutton Coldfield in the world?” s
aid Michael.

  “It’s the rate of decline you need to look at. Where we came from and where we’re going to. The statistics don’t lie. This place here used to be what’s known as a nice area. Nothing has changed on the surface of things. We’re not at war or anything like that, but this area has changed, mate.”

  “Changed how?”

  Chip counted the local travesties off on his fingers. “The local scout group has been thrown out of the national movement. Did you know that? The sales of alcoholic drinks have trebled in the last three years, and acts of public lewdness have gone up tenfold in the same timeframe. The break-in at our lab. A man peeing on me from next door’s balcony. The beast … that beast. Should I go on?”

  “There might be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of those things,” said Michael, fully aware of what that was – indeed who that was – and knowing that it wasn’t all that reasonable.

  “No, Michael.” Chip walked towards the window. “I look out of here and all I see is – oh. Oh Lord, so soon?”

  He staggered slightly, and held onto the windowsill. Michael joined him, and looked down at the scene below. There were many more people there than previously, and nearly all of them were naked. From their elevated position in Chip’s top floor office, they could see the ample chest of the bouncy castle woman, with small boys swarming across it. They could see Clovenhoof, naked, high in a crenelated turret, spraying foam into the crowd and playing the role of master of ceremonies, microphone in hand, while a monkey jiggled a baby beside him. A disco ball and a laser show played out beneath, as he co-ordinated a naked dance-off. He came down from the turret and danced amongst them, accompanied by the baby and the monkey. He was clearly encouraging the naked dancers to wiggle their bodies for his amusement.

  “Where are my people?” breathed Chip. “The ones I hired to promote modesty and responsibility to the community?”

  “From what I can see,” said Michael, “it looks as if some of them are over there, engaged in bare-breasted fighting with local mothers, and the rest are doing naked funky chicken dances on the tarmacadam. If it makes you feel any better, they seem to be beating the walking group’s naked conga.”

  At the periphery of the bedlam, police cars approached, their sirens and lights adding to the riotous cacophony. Chip walked away from the window, head in his hands.

  “Michael, I thought we had more time, I really did. It’s been nice to have this chat, but it’s time for action.”

  Chip woke up the computer on his desk and opened an application.

  Michael tried to read over Chip’s shoulder as Chip typed in a password and clicked a command.

  There was a dialog box on the screen and a question: Are you sure you wish to initiate the end of the world protocol?

  “Really, Chip?” said Michael, making a show of looking at the sky. “It looks like it’s fairing up a bit.”

  Chip clicked ‘Yes’.

  Chapter 13 – In which the flood arrives

  “All right, all right,” sighed Clovenhoof, and leapt down to see what Gorky was making a fuss about.

  He lifted Belle up, and was struck at once by a deliciously horrible nasal onslaught.

  “Wow, girl!” he said, impressed. “The smells you generate from a limited palette of milk and mushed veg. Pure artistry!”

  Beelzebelle said something not unlike “yasfurble fplap” in happy agreement.

  “And well spotted, Gorky,” said Clovenhoof. “Let’s get this bum-bomb sorted.”

  Jiving and body-popping between the nakedness, Jeremy and his young charge threaded through the bedlam and to the Consecr8 building. He got past the besuited and bewildered wholesome young men on the doors by brazenly ignoring them whilst ensuring they got a right eyeful of his swinging junk.

  Gorky had a better memory of the place than his owner, and tugged Clovenhoof’s thigh hairs to direct him down to the lower level and the toilets. As he did, a loud and insistent siren wail began issuing from wall-mounted speakers. Belle wailed in shock and confusion. Gorky screeched. Clovenhoof raised his eyebrows at the din, and gave Belle a comforting hug.

  “It’s okay, baby. That sometimes happens when daddy enters holy buildings. Nothing to worry about.”

  Gorky pointed and tugged Clovenhoof’s ear to get his attention. He saw a young man wielding a mop and retreating through the double doors leading to the toilets.

  A pool of dark and wickedly pungent liquid began to seep under the door.

  “Dodgy kebab?” asked Clovenhoof with sympathy.

  “We should probably make our way out,” said the young man, dropping the mop and edging towards them. “Freddy has many talents, underappreciated though they are, but it’s just possible that this needs the attention of a qualified plumber.”

  “Oh?” said Clovenhoof.

  “Sewage has completely flooded those cubicles down there.”

  “Hilarious.”

  Freddy gave Clovenhoof the grim look of a person who had stood ankle-deep in sewage and could not see any hilarity in the matter.

  “And it’s rising,” said Freddy. “Quite rapidly.”

  “Well, it smells smashing. But you’re right, it might be best to go back upstairs and enjoy the fun,” said Clovenhoof. “Come and join the party outside, if you’re underappreciated in here. I’ll get you a foam gun, if you want.”

  “I’d settle for clean shoes and fresh socks.”

  “What’s that noise, by the way?”

  “That’s the alarm to say we’re shutting off from the rest of humanity. First time I’ve known a full drill though.”

  “Shutting off from humanity? Why would you do that?” asked Clovenhoof.

  “Oh, something about isolating ourselves from the pervasive evil of modern society,” said Freddy.

  “There’s only one thing wrong with that plan,” said Clovenhoof.

  “Oh yes? What’s that?”

  “What if the evil gets shut inside with you?” said Clovenhoof with a wink.

  Ben noticed a steady stream of people heading for the church. Quite unusual in that, apart from himself, they were pretty much the only clothed people around. He wanted to ask one of them if they knew the reason for the annoying siren (which now seemed to have been joined by police sirens), but they all seemed far too absorbed in other matters to pay him any attention. He heard a couple having a particularly loud exchange.

  “I do hope we’re not all going to be squashed in together. There seems to be quite a crowd here,” said the man, pulling a wheeled suitcase behind him.

  “You’ve got your little toilet spray in case you need to share a loo, yes?” said his wife.

  “Yes, yes. Now, this is where we need to say goodbye,” he said, pulling up and parking his trolley case.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I only have one ticket.”

  His wife’s face fell.

  “I’m afraid you can’t come,” he said. “Besides, who will feed the cat?”

  “The cat? You said that the world is ending!” she replied, anger clearly building.

  “So it seems. And it’s up to me to be one of the chosen few to repopulate the world. I’ll go off and do what I must, and you feed the cat. God, Helen, you wouldn’t seriously just leave him, would you? Who knew you could be so callous?”

  “Repopulate the world? Repopulate the world?” she yelled. “Is that what this is all about? Have you gone mad and decided to join some sort of free love commune thing just so you can go and shag a load of other women? You make me sick!”

  Ben watched as she stormed off in fury.

  Clovenhoof wandered thoughtfully through the suddenly crowded church with Belle and Gorky. He followed in the wake of Freddy, who was being pestered from all sides by people wanting to know where to go, whether there was Sky Sports, and how long before they needed to start with the procreation. Freddy’s tablet dinged with incoming alerts, but he scrolled furiously and stabbed buttons in an attempt to get help on the plumbing iss
ue.

  “Mr Malarkey, sir,” he called into his phone. “We’ve got a situation that needs urgent attention.” He paused, listening. “Yes, apart from the obvious one. There’s some sort of flood of foul water coming up through the basement.”

  For some reason, the crowd of mostly self-absorbed individuals gave the naked Clovenhoof, Belle, and Gorky a wide berth. It was almost as though there was a six foot force-field around him, keeping everyone else out. Some of the people whispered to each other and pointed at his nether regions. Clovenhoof looked down at the capuchin squatting on the floor between his hooves.

  “It’s just my monkey,” he told the crowd, reassuringly. “Yes, he may be hairy and ugly, but he’s really quite nice. Come on, madam, you can stroke him if you like.”

  “No, I don’t know what caused it,” said Freddy into his phone, finger in ear to block out the noise. “It’s not just a backed up toilet. It’s pumping in faster than I can clean it up. The whole of the toilet block is inches deep now. I think you need to get all of these people out of here because Freddy really doesn’t think we should be at home to visitors.”

  He paused again, listening for longer.

  “Yes, sir. I do understand. It’s absolutely the mindset that we should have, yes. I’ll get everyone onto the upper floors and see what options we have for bailing. Very good.”

  Freddy ended the call and, with a small pout, changed gear. He addressed the crowd with a showman’s flourish.

  “Welcome, everyone! If you’d like to follow me, I’ll give you the tour. Expect some fun team-building games in the next few minutes. This way, up the stairs!”

  Clovenhoof trotted up with the crowd, and then realised that he knew the woman next to him.

  “Mrs Bloom!” he said to the magistrate. “Fancy seeing your worshipfulness here!”

  “I’m sure we’ve never met,” she said stiffly, eyes fixed ahead.

  “It’s because you’ve never seen me like this,” said Clovenhoof. “You’d recognise me if I had my wig on.”