by David Kempf
“Please, show me no more,” I said.
“Sorry. I can’t allow you to miss the best part of this show,” said the creature.
Sarah wasn’t just selling her body for the dope that she was now addicted to. No. She was sharing her money with her pimp. Who was her pimp? Who gave her all the dope and had her degrading her body and destroying her soul every night? Her mother was her pimp.
“See,” he laughed out loud. “I told you it was going to get much better.”
“Don’t you mean worse?”
“Sorry, dear boy. I meant worse; of course I did!”
“Where do we go next?” I asked.
“Everywhere I want.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m sorry. I meant everyone.”
“That makes no sense,” I said.
“No, Howard. What makes no sense is that your spirit is not broken yet.”
“That’s what this is all about. Breaking my spirit?” I asked.
“Yes. Once I do that, you will be ready for your glorious rebirth.”
“I think I’m ready. You shattered my image of who I thought was the best person that I ever met,” I said.
“Sorry. You don’t get off that easy. I’m going to give you my powers temporarily and you can learn the secret thoughts and motives of every human on this awful planet. You’ll be exhausted afterwards, but I think this will finally break you. You’ll have no faith left in your fellow man.”
“Please don’t do this. I need to think that there is good in the world and that some people are good,” I pleaded.
“I’m truly sorry, Howard. Humans can be useful but they are not, by nature, good. Let’s get this over with,” said the thing.
The horror was indescribable. I don’t think mere words could possibly do justice to what it was like to read the thoughts of everyone on the planet. One hour almost killed me. The thing had a wicked sense of humor, so he allowed me to pick the time and place for the mind reading. I’m a sentimental fool, or at least I used to be one. So I picked Christmas Eve to read the thoughts of humanity. Most of the world wasn’t thinking about the holiday. Not everyone celebrates Christmas. Those humans were thinking about how to get revenge against their enemies or other horrors. Some of those horrors included watching their own children starve to death or thinking about how to escape genocide. Then the people who were the haves rather than the have-nots had other thoughts. ‘How can I maximize profit? It’s a good time to lay off some workers after the holidays.’ Then everything got worse, or better, from the thing’s point of view. Murderers, pedophiles, rapists and cutthroats were thinking about how they were above the law. Season of joy! Husbands and wives were thinking about how they could cheat and not get caught. Season of peace! Corporate greed and the malice of young people and their social cliques were also part of this blessed season. All of this and much more did I see. This still didn’t break my spirit or heart. It took one more thing to do that. I read the mind of all our political leaders in all parties. This still wasn’t quite enough to do the trick. I read the mind of the president of the United States. Then it was a done deal!
“Now you know the real President Chapman Bishop,” said the thing.
“I do. How long have I been out?” I asked.
“Three days.”
“I missed Christmas then?”
“No.”
“No?” I asked.
“Oh no!” the thing exclaimed.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“You see, it can be Christmas anytime you want it to be. Let’s go change the past and the future together, Howard.”
“Humanity is worthless,” I said.
“No. That’s not my lesson here. Do you believe in evolution?” the thing asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. Survival of the fittest is the key to our new partnership. You were once a lowly social worker. Now you can be born again into something amazing and powerful. All we have to do is go back in time and make the right choices.”
“The hell with that kid,” I said.
“Yes. What was his name?” asked the thing.
“Little Liam,” I said. “I choose business and profit and making my needs the center of my life.”
“Yes!” said the thing with glee.
“Make it happen,” I said.
“We’re going back in time and then to the White House. We’re going to pay President Bishop a little visit.”
“Let’s do it,” I said.
The president was in a state of panic and horror. He looked at the thing with awe and disgust. I asked him if he had ever seen a space alien before and he said that he had not. The thing told him how it was going to be from now on.
“You’re going to be more of a figurehead from this point on,” said the thing. “Do you understand?”
“I do. Whatever you want, I will do,” said the terrified President Bishop.
“Good. See my new friend and I are going to be the real leaders of the world right now.”
“Okay,” said the president.
“You see, he knows what humans are all about now. I gave him that gift. My people are going to come here so they can purchase humans for a price. Humans have some good use for us.”
“My God, “said President Bishop. “You’re going to use them for food!”
“Why the hell does everyone think that?” asked the thing.
“Well,” said the president.
“Never mind, I think I know. You’ve watched too many Rod Serling episodes!” the thing said.
“Okay,” said President Bishop.
“We don’t want to eat you! All we want is to use the more, shall we say, downtrodden in your countries for spare parts. The genetic makeup of my kind with yours is more similar than you might think!”
“Whatever you want,” said President Bishop.
“Excellent,” said the thing. “You see, this guy Howard saved my life and in our alien culture I owe him a great position of power. The fact is that when my kind gives its word, we mean it. We have integrity and a lust for power. You have a timid nature and a whole lot of spare parts we want.”
“I see. You can have whatever you want,” said President Bishop.
“Well, in that case, I say we all have a toast,” said the creature. “Let’s drink some eggnog to the new world order and all. So long, snow and sentiment; Christmas has a new meaning now. What do you want to say, Howard?”
“Merry Christmas and happy new year,” I said.
“Indeed,” said the president.
“Merry Christmas and we look forward to eating you,” said the thing.
“What!” I screamed.
“Just kidding,” he said.
Chapter 12
His plate was empty. Christopher had eaten very well. There was nothing but crumbs left on the magnificent table that David had provided. If he had been eating maggot-infested corpses instead of fine cuisine, Christopher would inevitably become disappointed. This was no ordinary meal and this was no ordinary host. He looked at his mentor and smiled. He did not want to appear to be ungracious or frightened. The look that David gave him seemed to indicate that he could pass any test.
“I see you cleaned your plate,” said David.
“Yes.”
“I see that you have solved this potentially maddening puzzle.”
“Yes. I have,” said Christopher.
“I could tell,” David said.
“How could you tell?”
“You stopped worrying about the horrors that could be awaiting you and then simply began to enjoy your meal. It was wonderful. Only someone with a wonderful sense of humor could have finished that meal.”
“Yes,” Christopher agreed.
“Only someone with a great sense of humor could write those two stories of yours,” David said.
“Thanks.”
“I enjoyed them, Chris. I enjoyed them indeed. A real estate agent and a monster from outer space ar
en’t staples of comedy. If you can make them entertaining, I truly do see great potential in you.”
“Thanks. Really, thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, Christopher.”
“What now?” Christopher asked.
“I feel like I should show you my movie collection again,” said David.
“What?”
“You really do need to see that almost half are horror movies and the other half comedies. I just wanted you to know that…..”
“I know, David.”
“You do?” David asked.
“Yes,” he answered. Christopher looked all around the table at the remaining crumbs and mess. He looked at David and smiled once more. Someone who could offer his guest delightful cuisine in wicked hope they would think they were eating something else was humorous. Granted, it was a terrible, sinister and sadistic sense of irony and humor, but it was still funny. Christopher appreciated how his once-human mentor probably watched many others before him trick themselves. People who knew what he was before and maybe even had witnessed a scene from the graveyard buffet.
“Bravo, Christopher Wisdom. Bravo!”
“Thanks.”
“You get me. Don’t you?” David asked.
“I think so. I mean, I would like to believe that I do.”
“I see,” he said laughing.
“What next?”
“Have you heard the expression that youth is wasted on the young?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good,” said David.
Now, Christopher was beginning to be intrigued once more. It was killing him; the suspense, that is. What wonders did his supernatural host have in store for him now? What signs would be offered next? Only time would tell. They would have plenty of time to reveal secrets! It would only be a matter of time before Christopher himself would be able to speak with the masters! The inner fiend of Christopher Wisdom was growing larger and larger. He rather liked the idea of becoming like one of the creatures he had imagined for most of his young life. Then there was the part of him who could not forget how hideous an ugly monster David really was. The real David, not the projected image of Dr. Henry David Wells, was an abomination.
“Well,” said David.
“Sorry.”
“You look like you’re in deep thought, my boy.”
“I am.”
“Listen to me right now.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good.”
“I’m listening.”
“Youth is wasted on the young. I believe that. However, immortality is almost never wasted on the immortals. We earn it. I have and you will. It begins with small tests like you seeing me for what I really am. Then seeing if you can do something as simple as eating a meal without going mad. You are passing with flying colors, my boy. Truly, you are. I don’t know if you were graduating summa cum laude at our school, but you’re simply an A student so far.
“Once again, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my boy.”
“Now why do you speak of youth? Is it that you would like to see a story I’ve written about some type of angry, murderous youth?” Christopher asked.
“Yes,” David replied.
“You’re in luck, my mentor. I have one.”
“I suspected that you did.”
The mentor and protégé were coming to an understanding. They were already bonding and reading each other’s intentions. It was coming together with an eerie sense of destiny. Slowly, slowly, coming together, it was. That was fine because time was a true luxury here. Christopher had already discovered that perhaps one of the reasons the masters enjoyed stories was that their reign was not imminent.
“We have time to discover more about one another, don’t we?” Christopher asked.
“Yes.”
“Good,” said Christopher.
“Now, let’s talk about the story, please?” said David.
“We certainly will.”
“Good.”
Christopher was having many thoughts swim through his head. He couldn’t help but wonder if he and David were still playing games. Even though he felt the bond and the trust growing, these creatures were not exactly honest or moral. The masters were worse, far worse than David. He was their protégé, ultimately. These terrible creatures were his mentors and the unspeakable things they had done to mankind were the subject of many tales of terror. What was even more frightening was that he wanted to join them and be their ally. If you can’t beat them then join them, which he had always heard, came at a terrible cost. The winners here were beings who would defeat humanity. They would defeat them in a way that would make the crusades and all the world wars look like nothing more than a boxing match! Christopher laughed to himself as he realized his fellow students were troubled by how they were going to apply their college degrees to the real world in terms of employment. He was realizing he was the same angry kid inside that he always was. He was the one who would lash out at bullies and teachers, just like the protagonist in his story.
“You were an unhappy youth?” David asked.
“That’s a complex question,” Christopher answered.
“No, it’s not,” David said.
“Sorry, I believe it is.”
“No,” he said again.
“What?” Christopher asked.
“Damn it! Did you like your childhood or not?”
“No,” said Christopher.
“Thank you,” said David.
Despite all the grand memories of youth, such as watching the horror movies and dreaming of beautiful women he might someday date, Chris was a miserable young man. It was awful to come to this conclusion, but it truly could not be avoided. There was no other way to end the story of his young years. He was an unhappy boy. Now Christopher feared he would make an unhappy immortal fiend. He wasn’t even sure he knew what that even meant. Prying into his life, his childhood was actually worse to him than slowly turning into a monster.
“Would you like to know why, David?”
“I certainly would, my young friend.”
“Okay.”
“Let us now hear a brief tale of the youth of Mr. Christopher Wisdom.”
“Please don’t build it up too much, David. There is not much to tell here.”
“Oh, I find that hard to believe.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Please continue, my boy. I would very much like to hear more.”
“Like I said, there isn’t much to tell regarding a miserable childhood, but it makes me feel like a bad person to describe it to you that way.”
“Why?”
“My parents love me; they are not perfect. Sometimes I hate them and think they are fools but they are not. They are good, loving people who deserve my respect. I was unpopular, greedy and sarcastic. It was no wonder that nobody wanted to be my friend except my family.”
“I see.”
“Do you really?” Christopher asked.
“Yes.”
Christopher stared into the fireplace. He could only begin to imagine the images that David had imagined in the flames over the years. The many terrible faces he had seen. He was an old man, an unnaturally old man. This was typically not the nature of reality, immortality that is. Man is mortal and accepted it. That’s why mankind probably invented organized religion. That’s why Christopher invented his Thomas character. Doubting Thomas was simply raging against the lack of empirical evidence for God’s existence.
“Tell me about your childhood,” said Christopher.
“What?” David asked.
“Where did you grow up?”
“I grew up in London for the most part.”
“Wow!”
“Don’t be so impressed,” David said laughing. “I hear that many people are still growing up in London today.”
“Oh.” For the first time since he found out his mentor wasn’t human, Christopher had the feeling he was beha
ving like David’s groupie. It was embarrassing, especially now that he knew that truth about Dr. Wells.
“What did your father do for a living?”
“He made beer and ran a pub.”
“Wow.”
“Please stop saying that,” said David.
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Now we need to talk a little about your youth and childhood. Mine happens to be irrelevant at the moment.”
“Okay.”
“You see, I need to learn more about you before you can finally become one of us.”
“I thought the masters had already made up their minds.”
“Well, yes but…”
“What?”
“I still have some say. Granted, I’m not as high up on the food chain as them,” said David.
Christopher couldn’t help but have the image of the corpse-eating fiend in his mind’s eye. It was impossible to get out of his head now. Any mention of food or dining was bound to produce this insidious vision for him. It was something he would never forget and there would be many times that he would try.
“Well, David….”
“I know I’m not as powerful as them….”
“David…..”
“The point is that I’m your mentor, boy.”
“I know, sir.”
“Good.”
“We’ll have a long time to get acquainted,” Christopher said smiling.
“Indeed we will,” David said smiling back at him.
“It sounds as if your youthful days were not all that extraordinary. I say that with respect.”
“No offense is taken, lad. They were typical of my time. I don’t want to be manipulated into a conversation about that time right now.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. If you weren’t a manipulative little bastard, you would be a very poor writer.”
“True. I would be more of a scribbler.”
“No, you’re better than that. You’re much better than that, Chris.”
Christopher smiled again. He had been smiling quite a bit during these last few fascinating moments. The young protégé felt like he was destined to be perhaps one of the greatest writers in the history of mankind. His ego was growing once again. The things that controlled David were seducing him now, just as they had David so long ago, he suspected. Prior to that, it was probably whoever mentored David. The hideous manner in which they played upon human pride was almost as impressive as the immortality. Almost, that is.
