Apocalypse Next Tuesday

by Safier, David; Parnfors, Hilary;

  So Joshua sang another psalm. And, fired up by the bankers, he sang yet another. And another. In total he sang eight of them, until the bar closed. The bartender was deeply moved and decided not to charge for the wine. Even the building society lot had switched from Jägerbombs to red wine. Everyone said farewell to Joshua and thanked him, and as I looked back at the cheerful crowd, I got the impression that they would be just a little bit happier processing overdraft applications the next day.

  Joshua accompanied me to my father’s house. I was euphoric and slightly tipsy. It had been a long time since I’d drunk as much wine as I had done with this man (who seemed to be completely sober – was he used to drinking or did he just have a better metabolism?) It was also almost certainly the strangest evening that I’d ever spent with a man, not counting the day when Sven seriously suggested that we could share a room with his mother for a night at a fully booked hotel in Formentera.

  Joshua had a way of touching people. And he touched me as well. But I was But I was totally unsure whether the feeling was mutual. Did he find me attractive? He’d still not taken a peak at my breasts. Maybe he was gay? It would certainly explain why he was such a nice guy.

  ‘It’s been a wonderful evening,’ Joshua said and smiled.

  Maybe he did find me attractive?

  ‘I have dined, sung and, more than anything, I have laughed,’ Joshua explained. ‘I haven’t had such a wonderful evening here on earth for a long time. And I have only you to thank for that, Marie. Thank you!’

  He looked at me gratefully with his wonderful eyes. It almost seemed as though he really hadn’t had this much fun for a long time.

  Maybe he fancied me! That’s how I was taking it, in any case. If my knees had been shaking just a little bit more they would have been dancing the Charleston.

  ‘So would you like to come upstairs for a bit?’ I asked, without thinking. I was immediately shocked by what I’d said.

  ‘What do you want to do upstairs?’ Joshua asked innocently.

  No, I couldn’t sleep with him. That would be wrong on three counts – because of Sven, Sven and Sven. And because of Kata, who would then spend the coming years making comments about screwing.

  ‘Marie?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘Yes, you did,’ I confirmed.

  ‘And are you going to answer my question?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Neither of us said a word.

  ‘Marie?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You wanted to give me an answer.’

  ‘Erm, what was the question again?’

  ‘Why should I go upstairs with you?’ Joshua repeated gently. It seemed as he really didn’t have a clue.

  It was mad. He was so innocent. Somehow that made him even more attractive.

  But if he didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do with him upstairs, I could probably still get myself out of this situation pretty easily and protect myself from making another error. Or worse – from being rejected.

  I could probably just defuse this whole thing. I just needed to make sure that my drunk self didn’t answer something incriminating like ‘have a coffee’.

  ‘So what do you want to do with me?’ Joshua asked again.

  ‘Screwing.’

  ‘Screwing?’

  Damn the red wine.

  ‘Erm… I mean scrawing.’

  ‘Scrawing?’

  ‘Yes,’ I smiled awkwardly.

  ‘What’s that?’

  Oh my God. How was I supposed to know?

  ‘I… erm… did mean screwing… in the attic,’ I added hastily.

  ‘You want us to go and work on your attic together?’

  ‘Yes!’ I answered, delighted to have turned the conversation around.

  ‘But at this time of night, we’ll wake up your father and your sister,’ Joshua said.

  ‘Yes. And that’s exactly why we won’t be doing that!’ I announced slightly insanely.

  Joshua looked a little bewildered. I grinned awkwardly.

  Then he said, ‘Good! Let’s do some screwing together tomorrow then.’

  ‘I heard that!’ bellowed a slurring, aggressive voice behind us. I turned around, and Sven appeared from behind the plum tree at the edge of our large front garden. Had he been waiting outside my house this whole time?

  He looked terrible. He was drunk and incredibly angry. ‘You’ve been cheating on me!’ he yelled at me.

  ‘I haven’t,’ I replied.

  ‘No, of course not,’ he sneered. ‘I bet that you’ve been carrying on with this long-haired ape the whole time.’

  ‘My friend,’ said Joshua calmly, standing in between us. ‘Don’t raise your voice to Marie.’

  ‘Piss off, hippie. Or I’ll kick your arse!’ Sven threatened.

  ‘Don’t do that,’ Joshua warned softly. But then Sven hit him in the face with the flat of his hand.

  ‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed, looking at Joshua. He was holding his cheek. It looked like Sven had hit him hard.

  ‘Come on. Fight, if you’re a man!’ Sven shouted at Joshua.

  But Joshua just stood still. He did nothing. Absolutely nothing. I’m sure that he could have trounced him quite easily. He seemed much fitter than Sven. And besides, he was nowhere near as drunk. But Joshua didn’t make any attempts to respond to this provocation: ‘I will not fight you, my frie…’

  ‘I’m not your friend!’ Sven hit him again, this time with his fist.

  ‘Ahh…’ Joshua grunted. That must have hurt a lot.

  ‘Defend yourself,’ Sven urged him.

  But Joshua only stood in front of Sven, peacefully, without any kind of aggression. He’d gone all Gandhi. Sven, on the other hand, swung another punch. Joshua fell to the ground. Sven jumped on top of him and carried on hitting, screaming: ‘Defend yourself, you poof!’

  Panicking, I thought, ‘Yes, Joshua. Defend yourself!’

  But Joshua did not fight back. Sven carried on punching him. I couldn’t bear to watch it any longer. I grabbed Sven by the collar and pulled him off Joshua. ‘Stop it immediately!’

  Sven stared at me, eyes full of rage, and coughed in my face. He reeked of alcohol. For a short moment I feared that he would hit me as well. But he didn’t. He got off Joshua and turned to me and said ‘I never want to see you again’. And then he left.

  As loudly as I could, I yelled after him, ‘Great!’

  Then I looked at Joshua and his split lip. He stood up. I felt awful, as it was my fault that Sven had lost it like that. But I was also annoyed with Joshua. If he’d only defended himself a little bit, he wouldn’t have ended up in such a state. And I wouldn’t have felt so bloody guilty!

  ‘Why didn’t you defend yourself?’ I asked angrily.

  ‘But whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also,’ Joshua answered calmly.

  That made me really angry. ‘Who do you think you are?’ I snapped. ‘Jesus?’

  Joshua stood up. He was shaking. He looked deep into my eyes.

  ‘Yes, actually.’

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘Get us out of here!’ Kirk screamed.

  ‘But Captain…’

  ‘No buts! He really does think he’s Jesus!’ Kirk insisted.

  ‘But we can’t just escape!’

  ‘Why not?’ Kirk was about to lose it.

  ‘Because he’s hurt.’

  Kirk thought for a moment. Scotty was right. Joshua couldn’t be left alone in this state.

  But Kirk wasn’t happy about it.

  ‘Scotty?’

  ‘Yes, Captain.’

  ‘There’s something that I’ve always wanted to tell you.’

  ‘And what would that be?’

  ‘That you’re really annoying.’

  I looked at Joshua, who was just about standing up, his lip still bleeding. ‘I expect you want to know why I’m here,’ he said calmly.

  No, I didn’t! I al
so didn’t care which loony bin he’d broken out of. So I went on: ‘Don’t speak. You need to rest. I’ll take you to Gabriel’s.’

  ‘That’s not necessary. I can make my own way there,’ Joshua said, and I hoped that this was the case. I just wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible.

  After two steps, he collapsed. Damn it!

  Sven had hit him harder than I’d thought. I helped him all the way back to the vicarage. Joshua tried again: ‘I came to earth because…’

  But I just said, ‘Shhh!’ I didn’t want to hear that. I had enough madness going on in my life right now. I didn’t need his on top of that.

  I rang the vicarage bell and Gabriel opened the door in a vest. The vision of him standing there in his underwear was something that I really could have done without.

  Gabriel ignored me. He was deeply shocked to see Joshua in such a state.

  ‘What did you do to him?’ he demanded.

  ‘I knocked him out in the twelfth round with a wonderful left hook,’ I snapped.

  ‘This is not the time for clever remarks,’ Gabriel replied, sounding much stricter than he ever had during confirmation class.

  I explained to him what had happened. Gabriel looked at me angrily, took me aside and hissed: ‘Leave Joshua alone!’

  I hissed back. ‘My pleasure to the power of a million.’

  Gabriel led a stunned looking Joshua into the house. I noticed three odd things. Firstly, Gabriel treated Joshua as a servant would his master. Secondly, Gabriel had two massive scars on his back. And thirdly, I heard a voice calling ‘What’s going on?’ – and that voice sounded remarkably like my mother’s.

  I hurried over to a window, looked into the vicarage and sure enough – my mother was walking around inside. Dressed in her underwear.

  I was now well and truly sober.

  Meanwhile…

  Gabriel took Joshua into the spare room, treated his wounds and caringly sat by his bed until he’d fallen asleep. Why on earth had the Messiah got involved with Marie? Gabriel couldn’t think of any plausible answer to that question and finally returned to Marie’s mother, who was lying curled up in his bed. For this former angel, this was quite a remarkable sight. For decades he’d longed to be reunited with her, and now his dream had finally become reality. He smiled. Angels always knew that God had an unusual sense of humour, but it was not until now that the full extent of God’s humour had become clear to Gabriel. That people had sex like a saw – backwards and forward – was simply one of the Almighty’s delightful jokes.

  And it was a wonderful activity.

  The only downer was that the world was going to end soon, and the chances of Gabriel’s beloved getting into heaven were close to zero. He had tried to convert Silvia, but she’d tossed the Bible on to the bedside table and started nibbling on his earlobes. Then he’d forgotten all about wanting to convert Silvia.

  Yet even if his great love did manage to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, he doubted that this wonderful sawing action was permitted in the domain of the Almighty.

  ‘Why are you looking so worried?’ Marie’s mother asked.

  Gabriel appeased her, telling her that everything was all right, and gave her a kiss.

  ‘Does it have something to do with that carpenter?’ Silvia was not letting it go. She was a psychologist, after all.

  Gabriel thought for a while. He couldn’t let her in on it all. He couldn’t tell her that Jesus just wanted to spend some time among the people working as a carpenter, something he loved doing, before heading off to Jerusalem for the great battle against evil. He couldn’t say that the Messiah had come to him because he was the angel whom he loved the most, nor that he, Gabriel, had warned Jesus how much times had changed and that walking among the people would not bring him any joy. How could he explain that the Messiah was actually very stubborn, and wouldn’t be put off doing anything once he’d got an idea into his head – something the rabbis in the temples could vouch for? Gabriel certainly couldn’t tell Silvia that the son of God had gone on a date with none other than her own daughter.

  But what did he want from Marie?

  ‘Are you going to answer my question today?’ Silvia demanded to know.

  He just turned to her and said, ‘The carpenter is a great man.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s not as great as you are,’ my mother smirked, making Gabriel blush. One thing was certain – he would not be getting used to her remarks about his tool, even if the end of the world was very nigh.

  Then Silvia started kissing him again. Sure, she was interested in his problems, but on the other hand, she’d been without a man at her side for far too long. There would be plenty of time for psychological discussions later.

  But Gabriel was only half-heartedly responding to her advances. He was thinking about Joshua. He had a great task ahead of him. He had to create the Kingdom of God on earth. And no one was allowed to interrupt him –least of all an exceedingly ordinary person like Marie.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I was still in a state of shock when I got back to my father’s house and bumped into Svetlana. She was barefoot, dressed in a bathrobe, leaning against the kitchen sink and drinking a coffee in the middle of the night. In my mind’s eye, all I could see was her indulging in some sort of tantric sex marathon with my father. I wished I could rip my mind’s eye out of its socket.

  ‘What was all that noise out there earlier? Sounded like a fight?’ Svetlana asked. Her German was really good. It seemed like she’d been to university, though it was probably the Belarusian University for Applied Sham Marriage.

  I was furious. It was none of her business what that noise was all about. Why did I even need to be conversing with her? Why hadn’t she stayed in Minsk? Why did that stupid Iron Curtain have to fall? Where were those totalitarian regimes when you really needed them?

  ‘Leave me alone,’ I replied snarkily. ‘And put some clothes on.’

  Svetlana looked at me angrily. I met her gaze – perhaps I would be able to outstare her?

  ‘You’re very rude to me,’ she countered. ‘I want this to change.’

  ‘OK, I can be even ruder if you like,’ I replied.

  ‘You want me to leave,’ she declared.

  ‘Not necessarily. You could also spontaneously combust.’

  ‘Well, believe it or not, I love your father.’

  ‘Sure. I mean, you’ve already known him for, what, three weeks?’ I quipped.

  ‘Sometimes all you need is a moment to fall in love,’ she replied.

  Why on earth was Joshua racing around in my mind now? I shook off my thoughts about the carpenter and turned to Svetlana: ‘You only signed up to a dating agency to get into the west.’

  ‘Yes, and thank the Lord that I met someone like your father. He’s a wonderful man.’

  I snorted disapprovingly.

  ‘And he’s going to be a wonderful father to my daughter.’

  ‘Your what?’ I shouted.

  ‘Daughter.’

  ‘Your what?’

  ‘Daughter. She’s still with her Grandma in Minsk.’

  ‘YOUR WHAT?’

  ‘You know, you tend to repeat yourself.’

  ‘YOUR. WHAT?’

  ‘That’s what I’m saying.’

  I couldn’t even begin to compute this information. Was my Dad also going to have to finance her bloody child?

  ‘My mother is flying to Hamburg with her today.’

  ‘So Grandma is coming here as well, is she?’

  ‘Don’t worry. Grandma is taking a flight straight back to Minsk.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound cheap.’

  ‘My little girl is not allowed to fly on her own, and my mother can only take one day off from her job.’

  ‘So who’s paying for all this flying about?

  ‘Who do you think?’ Svetlana replied with a hint of sadness in her voice.

  ‘You really are despicable,’ I hissed.

  ‘You have no idea wha
t my life is like,’ Svetlana countered. ‘And you have no right to judge me.’

  ‘Yes, I do. This is my father we’re talking about!’ I tried to look as menacing as possible.

  Svetlana took a deep breath and then, incredibly calmly, she promised: ‘I understand that you are worried about your father. But I will never hurt him like you hurt your groom.’

  I gulped. I had nothing to say to that. Svetlana walked out of the kitchen. At the door, she turned back to me again and said, ‘Judge not, that ye be not judged.’

  Then she left the room. I wanted to judge her to death.

  I really wanted a coffee now too – the caffeine would probably have calmed me down I was in such a terrible mood. But then I looked at Kata’s sketchpad, which was lying on the kitchen table. She’d drawn another comic strip, which seriously distracted me.

  I put Kata’s comic strip down. Was it true? Did I only ever fall for the wrong men?

  As I lay on my bed and looked at the wet patch on the ceiling for a change, I thought about the men in my life – about Kevin the breast-kneader, about Marc the cheater and especially about Sven. I never dreamed that he could be so violent. Even though I was feeling guilty that he had lost it like that because of me, I was suddenly overjoyed that I’d hotfooted it at the altar.

  Joshua on the other hand was completely different to the other men – so gentle, so unselfish and compassionate. And he was a great singer. It was a real shame he was completely bonkers.

  I was keen to know just how bonkers he was. So I did some googling on my father’s laptop and found two articles about people who claimed to be Jesus. One of them was just a nutter. His delusions were not curbed until he jumped off a garage trying to prove his divine capabilities. The other one was a vicar in Los Angeles, who claimed to be Jesus so as to be able to con his followers out of hundreds of millions of dollars. Looking at this unscrupulous sect leader made you think, ‘Hey! Let’s nail him to a cross and see whether he really is Jesus.’ Joshua was not likely to be one of those who used their delusions to trick people out of money. He was more likely to be one of the garage types. What had happened to make him go off the rails? Perhaps the death of his ex?