Objects of Worship (17 page)

“So you’re burning in Hell. No matter what I do, I’ll end
up burning in Hell.”

“Oh, no. There’s no burning.”

“Torture?”

“Nope. No torture. It’s just this endless sea, only without
the water. It’s where all the animals end up when they die.
Bears, owls, insects, crocodiles, sharks, whales, dinosaurs,
people. It’s all the same. You die. You end up here.”

“There’s dinosaurs in Hell? Cool.”

“I guess so. They’re just part of the scenery, you know.”

“So what do you do all day?”

“Not much. For one thing, you never sleep. You can’t
sleep, in fact. So, mostly, you just hang around. Wander.
Talk to people. The dogs are nice. Plus, here they don’t shit
all over the place. Actually, nobody shits here. Can’t say I
miss that.”

“Well that doesn’t sound too bad.”

“I guess not. But the demons shit, though. And fart.
Stinko, let me tell ya.”

“Maybe it’s their diet.”

“Could be. I’ve never seen them eat, though.”

“But, all in all, are you alright there?”

“Well, you know, there’s never any sunlight. No movies,
either. No TV. No sports. No food. Lots of noisy bugs. Plus
you’re kind of insubstantial. You can’t really touch anyone.
Almost, but not quite. And it’s kind of hard to get motivated
or excited about anything. Nothing ever happens here.”

“But what about God?”

“I dunno. Haven’t seen him. The folk around here don’t
seem to like to talk about that.”

After the conversation with his dad, Kyle found seven more
hang-ups. Kyle had assumed that all the recent hang-ups
in his voicemail had been from his father. He’d meant to
ask him, but, in the excitement of actually talking to his
dead father, he’d forgotten. Anyway, this established that
the hang-ups were someone else’s doing. Who was calling
him like that? Couldn’t be Lauren; his mysterious caller
had rung several times while they’d had sex. Wasn’t like his
mother not to leave long, guilt-inducing messages. And it’s
not as if he had friends or anything. Probably telemarketers,
he concluded.

It was 8:50 a.m. He’d spoken with his dad for more than
nine hours.
Wow
, he thought.
Dad. Dad!

He called Lauren.

“He’s driving me crazy.” Kyle said, while absent-mindedly
stroking the hood of Lauren’s clit. She squirmed and moaned.
“I mean, I love him, and all that. And he really likes you.
He likes how you talked to him that night when he first
called and I freaked out.” His other hand cupped her breast,
lightly fingered her nipple. She gasped.

“And, like, I know he’s my dad and my best friend, but,
geez, he won’t leave me alone. He calls me all the time, and
he wants to talk for hours. And hours.”

They were taking a midnight bath. The bubblebath
smelled like oranges. A couple of scented candles flickered
on the edge of the sink. Lauren lay with her back against
Kyle’s chest. Only a little bit of water had splashed on the
floor so far.

“I’ve been telling him he should call Mom. But he won’t.
He won’t tell me why, either. She asks about him all the
time.” The phone calls from the dead had become big news.
There’d been lots of TV specials and talk shows. Mediums
who used to claim they talked to the dead were all exposed
as frauds. The Catholic Church declared that the voices
were demons working for the Prince of Lies (as it liked to
call Lucifer; Kyle’s dad had seen him from afar a couple of
times and said he seemed like a nice guy). The Church’s
position was that the voices were trying to undermine
Christ’s teachings, by denying Heaven, salvation, and
damnation. Religions everywhere were having trouble
reconciling their dogma with what the dead were saying.
And there were more troubles. There were pressures to
retry murder cases in light of details learned from the dead,
although not a single case had yet been brought to trial for
that reason. Scandals erupted in families, governments,
and corporations because of information from the dead.
The stock market was taking a beating. The media was
having a ball, though.

“I keep telling her that I haven’t heard from him, to
spare her feelings, but I hate to lie.” He slid a couple of
fingers inside her while pinching her nipple. Lauren cried
out, and her legs shot out of the bath, splashing water and
bubbles on the floor.

“What am I gonna do? I feel so guilty about it, but I don’t
think I wanna talk to him anymore. At least, not so much.
I know he’s dead and bored and all that. But, fuck, I’ve got
my own life now.” Kyle lifted his hands, emphasizing his
frustration.

“Hey,” Lauren said. “Put your hands back where they
were.”

A lot more water splashed on the floor after that. When
the phone rang, they ignored it.

While they were towelling themselves off, the phone rang
again.

“You should get it,” Lauren said. “It might be your
mystery caller. One less thing on your mind once you clear
that up.”

“Nah. It’s bound to be either my mom or dad. Guilt or
boredom. My life’s great options.” With a deep sigh, Kyle
answered the phone.

“Kyle! You’re a hard guy to get a hold of.”

“So I heard from Uncle Flip. Turns out he was the one
leaving all those hang-ups. He said he didn’t want our first
afterlife contact to be a message.” There was silence on the
end of the line.

“Dad? Are you still there?” More silence.

“Dad?”

Kyle — barely — heard his dad mutter, “Flip . . .”

“Is everything okay, Dad?”

“Huh . . . sorry, Kyle. Hmm. Listen. There’s something I
have to tell you.”

After Kyle got off the phone, he ran over to Lauren’s. He had
so much nervous energy to burn. He didn’t bother calling.
He just ran.

Wait till she hears this
, he thought.

Once he reached Lauren’s apartment, he used the
boyfriend key she’d given him. The thought that he rated a
key made him feel really horny. He stepped inside.

There was an empty cardboard box on the coffee table
and some packing material on the floor. Lauren was hooking
up a new machine to her TV.

“Look at you! Are you okay?” she said as she looked up
at him.

“Huh? Yeah. I ran here. I’ve got such wild news!”

“Me, too. You’ll never believe what happened to me
today.” She finished hooking up the new machine. Kyle
noticed what it was. “Hey! You bought a DVD player!
Cool!”

Lauren walked up to Kyle, rubbing her face against his
chest. “Mmm. You smell real sweaty and sexy, and I want
to celebrate.” She grabbed his T-shirt and pulled it off. She
gave him a mischievous grin and ran her tongue from his
navel to his neck.

Kyle grabbed her, pulled her off her feet, and carried her
to the couch. “Tell me what happened!” he said, while he
removed her panties from under her skirt.

“I got a call from
Flicker
,” she rubbed one hand on his
stiff crotch while unfastening his belt with the other. “The
editor offered me a monthly column at $2000, plus features
and reviews at fifty cents a word.” She reached over and slid
a finger up his butt. “I can make a living at this!”

“Babe, that’s so great!” He groaned. “Oh yeah, keep
doing that.”

They stopped talking for while.

Kyle drowsily nuzzled Lauren’s neck. They lay on the floor,
their clothes strewn all over the living room.

She asked him, “So you never told me your news.”

“That’s right. I guess I’ll just come out and say it. My dad
is in love with Uncle Flip.”

“What! Really?”

“Yeah, he was worried I’d freak out, but I think it’s cool,
if kinda sad.”

“Well, give me more details.”

Kyle propped himself up and leaned his back against the
couch. “Well, it turns out that Dad has always had the hots
for Uncle Flip, but never got the nerve to do anything about
it while he was alive. Plus, he didn’t want to hurt Mom. And
he’s pretty sure that Flip felt the same way. Come to think
of it, Flip never did marry or have kids or anything, and he
hung around with us a whole lot. Plus, he was always real
chummy with Dad. Anyway. So I gave him Flip’s number,
and he’s gonna tell him how he feels and try to hook up
with him. I’ll feel really good if I know I helped them get
together after all this time. I mean, it won’t be like they
were alive” — Kyle ran his fingers through Lauren’s hair —
“but at least they’ll be able to keep each other company.”

“Kyle, you’re a real sweetheart, you know.” She kissed
him, slowly and deeply.

When she disengaged herself, she got up and took
something out of a plastic bag. “Remember when we missed
that rare version of
The Big Sleep
at the rep?”

“Yeah.” Kyle grinned, looking at her naked body and
remembering the first time they’d had sex.

“Well, we can finally see it.” She held up the DVD case of
The Big Sleep
. “It’s on here. Let’s watch it. I’ve been thinking
so much about buying a player, and this DVD especially. But
I couldn’t really afford it. Now, well . . . my gifts to myself in
honour of my new success!”

She put the disc in the machine, and they cuddled up on
the couch. And Kyle — feeling Lauren’s naked skin against
his, enjoying her toes rubbing against his leg — thought,
Fuck, life is good. I don’t care if I don’t have a career or big goals
or anything. I mean, I kinda don’t mind my job; plus, being with
Lauren is doing something. It’s important.

As unexpectedly as the calls from the dead started, they
stopped. When people tried calling the dead, they got “The
number you have reached is not in service.” The phone calls
from Hell had lasted a month. “A lunar month,” Lauren told
Kyle. “The calls started on a full moon and ended on the
next.” Kyle didn’t know what that was supposed to mean.
“I don’t know, either,” said Lauren, “but it can’t be just a
coincidence.”

Surprisingly quickly, the world recovered. Already the
news was filled with stories “proving” that it had been a
scam or a practical joke. But Kyle knew better.

He never did find out if his dad and Uncle Flip met up
with each other.
But they probably did, or will
, he thought.
Hell’s a big place, but they have lots of time.

Lauren and Kyle moved in together into a bigger apartment,
one big enough for her to have an office at home. They were
getting dinner ready; Lauren’s brother Jordan was in town
and coming over. Kyle was a bit nervous about meeting him
for the first time. He was a really important part of Lauren’s
life. What if they didn’t get along?

Trying to get over his anxiety, Kyle said, “Hey! Get this.
There were these two guys — ”

Lauren interrupted him. “You know, when I say you’re
funny, I don’t mean that your jokes are funny, so you should
stop trying so hard to make jokes.”

“Oh.” Kyle was confused. Was this some kind of
roundabout way of breaking up with him? And he thought
things were going so well. Shit.

“It’s how you are, who you are, that’s so funny. Just relax
and be yourself. You amuse me in so many little ways. The
look of panic in your face every time someone addresses
you. The way you always spit exactly three times after you
brush your teeth. How you constantly rub your nose. How
you tend to lose yourself inside your own head. How you
overreact to everything.”

“So it’s who I am that’s a joke?” Instead of breaking up
with him, she’ll laugh at him for the rest of their lives? Kyle
tried to balance the damage to his ego with the sex and all
the other ways she made him feel good.

“No, silly. You’re charming! Everything about you is
charming! You’re so transparent and honest. Real and
direct. I love that.”

“Oh. Alright, then.” He grinned.

Lauren sat him down, dropped on his lap, squeezed his
hand between her thighs, and kissed him.

And Kyle looked into those bright brown, almost orange
eyes of hers and lost himself in the love he saw in there.

Lauren jumped off Kyle’s lap when the doorbell rang.
Kyle savoured the lingering taste of her lips on his own.

Lauren walked back into the kitchen with her brother
in tow, and Kyle looked up into his big, light-brown eyes,
so bright they were almost orange. And Kyle thought,
Shit,
he’s really cute.

When a pigeon chewed out Basil Fesper’s right eye while he
was taking a nap in his lawn chair, he finally admitted that
it was time to make an appointment with the optometrist.
The previous week, his left eye had rotted so much that it had
fallen out of its socket. He’d tried to put it back in, but there
was almost nothing left of it except a shapeless splotch, and
he really couldn’t see anything out of it anymore.

His wife Judith had pestered him to go then, before he
lost his second eye, too. But had he listened to her? No. “Stop
nagging me,” he’d said. “I still have one good eye. That’s all
I need. Those eye doctors are just a bunch of profiteering
opportunists. That’s what they are. Shame on them. Taking
advantage of people’s basic needs.”