Liars Truth

by Dorian Scott Cole

  Chapter 12

  "At the store, they have one-hundred-percent-recycled toilet paper," Marla says. "The worst job in the whole world must be recycling toilet paper."

  ― Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

  The restaurant turned out to be well stocked. They could have cooked, but they were in a hurry to eat, so they grabbed bread and raw vegetables and fruit, and cakes. The people ate as if they were in heaven.

  As they finished eating, Mary asked, "I wonder who cooked these things, and where they come from? Do they just magically appear?"

  "Maybe t' angels do it," William mused absently, as he finished another piece of cake.

  "Maybe we will run out! Nothing ever lasts in Hell!" Jerry fretted.

  "Good question," John responded. "Jerry, this isn’t Hell. But we should understand what we are dealing with here. We don’t want to starve to death."

  "Oh, merciful hour, lad! Plant it in thy muddled head, ye can’t die here." Cat grumbled. "I couldst cut out thy stomach and all wouldst do is increase thy pain. Which I wouldst be e'er so happy to doest."

  John smiled at her. She smiled in return, but it was a malevolent smirk. He laughed. She looked away. Organization was half of administration. Idle hands would mean only trouble, like the fight they just had. He knew he had to get people organized and doing things with a purpose quickly. "What if we have to grow the food and prepare it? That takes planning and people."

  "I’ll not be digging in dirt," Richard stated firmly.

  John frowned at him. He needed willingness, not dissention. "If that’s what it takes to stay alive… er, make things more pleasant here, are you saying you’re unwilling to do anything?"

  "I’m saying, I would rather be hungry than dig in dirt."

  He had to expect some of that. Not everyone was suited to every task, even if voters did put people in offices just because candidates ran for them. "Duly noted. Ok, people, we have a town. If we’re going to make this work, we need to understand what we have to do, and have some people in positions."

  "Why? We have wanderers and demons to make do our work," Richard countered.

  Jerry stuck his tongue out at Richard. "You and what army?" he taunted.

  Richard had only been in Hell for a few short hours, and already he had things figured out. Note to self: trouble. And Jerry... he would have to wait and see. He had labor problems already. Not good.

  William looked at Richard like he just crawled out from under a toad stool. His ire was roused. "Avast, ye mad fellow, who shall make anyone do anythin'? A ship must needs order t' survive t' storm and battles, and t' prepare for them. Ye enlist for jobs or ye get off t' ship."

  John put his hand on William’s sword arm to caution and silence him. "Cat, you’ve done restaurant work before, haven’t you?"

  "Aye, I has't, but I truly hate t."

  John acknowledged her feelings with a nod of his head. "If I get you the people, can you run the restaurant?"

  "Canst not wait. Mine heart is overjoyed." she said sarcastically.

  "I promise, you will not be a serving wench. You will be a proper business person and have a staff, which we will get you quickly."

  "So many promises, and hungry mouths at every turn. I promise thee, I will not so much as lift a dish, nor pour a tankard. And if any lad disrespects me, I will cut out his tongue and seal it in a box so he canst not get it back."

  "Agreed!" John said. Cat nodded affirmative – she would take the job. Apparently it was all going to be a negotiation.

  "Blimey, t' ash be drivin' me up t' yardarm!" William bellowed. "It’s like an ocean in me seafarin’ days. We must rid t' streets o' it!"

  "Didn’t it stop snowing ash when the angels arrived?" John asked.

  "Aye. But it blows wi' t' wind. Who knows where it comes from."

  "That needs an entire army of cleaners." John looked to William. "Maybe you could run the employment office and start staffing these positions."

  William nodded assent. "Be a privilege. If any man won’t work, I’ll run him through, put his head on a post, and tie his body to a yardarm."

  "Easy. That’s a bit harsh," John rebuked him.

  "Nay, not for Hell," Cat corrected.

  "Please, get it through thy muddled head, this isn’t Hell," John replied with a smile, mimicking her. "We don’t have to do things that way."

  "I’ll help Vagabones," Mary offered cheerfully.

  Everyone looked at her suspiciously. John shrugged.

  "Right." Cat said. "Thou turn those lads into mice and I’ll spit and roast 'em ore' a fire. " Everyone cringed.

  "Bryan, you seem a bit more temperate. Would you like to run the court?" John asked. "And Richard, we need someone to find out where the food comes from, and what we have to do to maintain services. Would you like to do that?"

  "I don’t see what for, but why not?" Richard replied, with obviously no intent whatsoever of doing anything.

  John studied Richard for a moment, and realized he was going to have to find ways to motivate people, and it was going to be difficult. Maybe William and Mary were right. "We need some rules. First rule, everyone do the work assigned to them." John looked around at everyone.

  "Who is going to make us?" Richard asked.

  William laughed an evil laugh. "Ye can walk the plank into the Lake Of Fire."

  "Who is going to catch us and push us over?" Jerry asked.

  Mary stood, pulled Jerry’s ears, then let them spring back to his head. Jerry instantly compressed into a mouse. Everyone watched wide eyed. Mary jumped up and down on Jerry mouse on the floor, then picked him up by the tail and threw him into a silver metal trash can. She made a show of dusting off her hands, then looked at Richard. He showed no expression.

  A moment later Jerry reverted to human form, wearing a trash can and howling in pain. Everyone grimaced.

  "OK, OK, don’t touch me! Everybody run!" He ran screaming from the restaurant, but everyone else stayed, slowing him.

  "I wonder what else I can do?" Mary pondered aloud. Richard rushed out the door.

  "And we’re going to need a new trash can," John noted aloud.

  Persiphus watched it all from a quiet corner of the restaurant. "Sometimes the general would have me count things. I was good at it."

  John laughed. He went to Persiphus and patted him on the back. "OK, I think there will be a lot of things to count. Consider yourself appointed. Official Counter." Persiphus nodded agreement.