The Temple (2 page)

He quickly returned to the bar
room and mixed the gentleman another drink.

“I’m not sure I want another
one,” the gentleman said.

Charlie smiled. “Upstairs will
be ready for you in a few minutes,” he said with a wink. “This
one’s on the house while you’re waiting.”

“Well, if you put it that way,
how can I say no?”

“That’s the spirit, sir, that’s
the spirit.” Charlie went back to the bar keeping a close eye on
the gentleman.

The gentleman sipped the drink
and then suddenly emptied the glass in one fell gulp. Moments later
his head hit the table in front of him as he collapsed in a swoon.
Charlie hurried over and chuckled. “Welcome to The Jamaica Inn,
sir, welcome. You’re not the first to be shanghaied here nor the
last.” K.O. drops were his preferred method of dealing with
strangers and while it was not something he resorted to very
frequently, it was a very profitable sideline in his business. He
quickly removed all the money from the gentleman’s wallet. There
was also the matter of two gold rings on his left hand and a gold
pocket watch all of which quickly disappeared into his own
commodious pockets. When he was satisfied that there was nothing
more to be had he turned his attention to Sycko and Judas who had
watched everything with a strange sense of detached interest.

“Now then you two,” Charlie said
strictly. “You owe me quite a bit of money. But I won’t be harsh on
you. I understand that these little problems happen even with the
best of intentions, so I’m giving you the chance to do a little
work for me and in return we’ll call it even. Now what do you say
to that?”

“Gee, Charlie, that’s awful
decent of you,” Judas quickly said.

“What do you want us to do?”
Sycko asked.

“Why only this, you see this
fine gentleman who’s fallen asleep in my establishment? He needs
some fresh air and I want him out of here. Carry him to the park
and leave him on a bench. He’ll thank you for it, I’m sure.”

Sycko looked doubtful but Judas
quickly pulled him along.

“Come on, pal. We’ll have this
done in no time.”

They left The Jamaica Inn with
its now richer and happier Charlie behind and wended their way
through the narrow winding streets to the local park where they
dropped their heavy burden onto the nearest patch of grass.
Exhausted Sycko sat down beside the unconscious man.

“We’ve got to go, Sycko,” Judas
said and tried to pull his friend up. “Can’t be found here, can we
now?”

Sycko pushed him away. “Leave
me, I’ve had enough.”

Judas shrugged his shoulders and
without waiting to hear what Sycko had had enough of he walked
away.

Sycko and the gentleman lay side
by side on the cool grass beneath dark tress that gently swayed in
the night wind. It was a full moon. Its cold wan light shone
through the trees.

“Just like a scene from one of
those old vampire films,” Sycko thought and closed his eyes.

The
Temple

Laziness is the Mother of all
Evils.

Sophocles

At dawn a crow landed on Sycko’s
chest and woke him up. Startled he waved the bird away which
fluttered over the gentleman’s face waking him too.

Sycko groaned. His head was
pounding and he felt the strong urge to throw up. He stood up and
stumbled to the path where he vomited leaving behind a pavement
pizza. He saw a bench and sat down. “Now why the fuck did I have to
run into Judas?” he cursed. A sudden shout of dismay made him turn
round.

“Oh Lord,” the gentleman wailed.
“It’s all gone. The money, my rings, everything. Oh I have sinned,
I know and the Lord’s wrath has been swift. Alack! Alas! Lord
forgive this poor sinner a moment of weakness.”

He knelt on the ground and began
to recite a lengthy prayer.

The stench from Sycko’s excesses
filled the air until at last the gentleman could ignore the smell
of puke no more. He stood up and looked around. “Now there’s a fine
mess I’ve got myself into,” he said and looked first at Sycko and
then the vomit in disgust. “And you, young man. What have you got
to say for yourself? Didn’t I see you last night? I suppose you too
have been left with empty pockets.”

“Eh, yes, I think so,” Sycko
said. “Did the strange man understand that he had helped Charlie to
rob him?” Sycko wondered. But then how could he? He’d been
unconscious all the time.

“Let this be a lesson to you
young man, as it has been a lesson to me,” the gentleman said, “and
thank the Lord Almighty for looking after you as he has looked
after me in my hour of need.”

Sycko didn’t understand how the
Lord had looked after the gentleman when he’d just been shanghaied,
but he understood that the man seemed to think he was a victim too.
And why not he thought. Didn’t I too have a bundle of cash before I
walked into that damn inn with Judas?

“Eh, yes, I suppose so.”

“Suppose so? Suppose so, he
says. Do not suppose, young man. Be sure of your gratitude. But
where are my manners. This is no place to be,” he said and pulled
Sycko up and away from the vomit.

“I’m sure glad to be away from
that pavement pizza,” Sycko said. “The name’s Sycko.” He held out
his hand.

Slightly embarrassed the
gentleman took it. “Yes, well, glad to meet you. Maybe something
good will come out of all this after all. My name’s Jeremiah. Come
with me. The Lord works in mysterious ways, but I believe that it
was not mere chance that led us to sin last night. It was His will
that brought us hither.”

“Where are we going?” Sycko
asked. I really need a drink and some aspirins. My head’s killing
me.” He suddenly noticed he was drooling and wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand. There was a wet stain on his shirt.

Jeremiah noticed and was
delighted. “Ah,” he said. “A portent, a good omen! I knew it was
part of His plan that we should meet thus. Drool, slaver, drivel,
is it not in His eternal glory that we Dryvellers perform this holy
act?” Is it not written in the Book of Books, The Holy Dryvel, that
to drivel shall evermore be a sign of the holy bond we have with
our Lord? No, no, I tell you. This is all part of a plan. You must
come with me. Our temple is not far. You will find all your heart’s
desires there.”

Although Sycko had his doubts
about finding his heart’s desire in any place but the vaults of a
bank where he was free to help himself to as much money he liked
without ever having to do any work, he was in no state to argue and
meekly walked along. “Strange bloke, Jeremiah is”, he thought. “But
what the heck. Nothing can be worse than what happened last night
and maybe I’ll get something out of it. Don’t look a gift horse in
the mouth.”

A few minutes later they reached
the temple. It was a plain brick building with no ornamentation of
any sort. The only things that made it different from any other
building were a trickle of water down the side of the entrance that
reminded every Dryveller of their holy bond with God and the
inscription above the door:

When God throws, the dice are
loaded

Sycko read it without
understanding. “Do you play games in here?” he asked.

“Games?” Jeremiah pushed the
door open and they entered. “Games?” he repeated. “Well, I suppose
you could say some of the things we do could be seen in the manner
of games. But come along. You’ll learn about everything presently.
I have a good feeling about you. An excellent presentiment, in
fact. It is most propitious. I dare say you might be the chosen
one. Yes, Sycko, you are a special person and it is here that you
have found your destiny.”

Sycko looked around wishing that
the verbose Jeremiah would shut up. Evidently asking questions was
a mistake if he wanted quiet and quiet was just what his pounding
head needed. The hall they were in was bare. The ceiling was white,
the walls were black and the floor was like a chess board. They
walked to another room that was furnished with a simple wooden
table and chairs.

“Pray, be seated, my friend,”
Jeremiah said. I know, I know your head hurts. Let Jeremiah attend
to it and all will be well soon.”

Moments later Jeremiah returned
with a packet of aspirins and a bottle of water. Sycko quickly took
two aspirins and drank greedily while Jeremiah slowly sipped tea
from a cup and watched Sycko. The tablets slowly took effect and
with the waning of the pain his interest in Jeremiah waxed.

“Gee, thanks Jeremiah. This is
the very thing I needed.”

And you’re very welcome, my
friend, but thank not me, thank not me. It is the Lord we must give
thanks to. Is He not the giver of all munificence? It is such a
pleasure to have you here, Sycko. But where are my manners again?
Here I am talking when surely you would like to tell a little about
yourself. Where do you live, Sycko?”

“Well, I live in a room in my
parents’ place,” he said not at all sure he wanted to talk about
himself. “I ain’t got a job now. Well, I had a job and worked real
hard there, but I got the sack yesterday. There’s no pleasing some
folks and my boss was never happy. Anyway, I guess I’ll just be
staying with my parents until something else comes along.”

Jeremiah had a gleam in his
eyes. “Yes indeed, the world is unjust, Sycko. You have been
treated most unjustly. But believe me, it’s all for a purpose. Is
it not written that a just man suffering at the hands of an unjust
man shall bring atonement to the world of the unjust for their sins
against God? Ah, my friend, I tell you there is more to all this
than meets the eye.” He leant forward and patted Sycko’s hand. “I
have a proposition to make, Sycko. A most propitious proposition I
might say even if I say so myself,” he said leering at the young
man. “It seems then that you are in want of a new life. Let me help
you get away from injustice. Cleanse yourself from the impurity of
avarice and ingratitude. Come and stay with us. There is a room I
can give you and you’ll live and eat in our community. Let not the
esurient be hungry and the sitient be thirsty is our motto. Join us
here in a new life and we’ll show you the way forward.”

“You mean I can live and eat
here for free and all I’ve got to do is talk with you?” Sycko said
astounded. The idea of not having any work to do but being fed and
looked after for free was very attractive. Much better in fact than
staying at his parents’ place where there was always someone
nagging and moaning about him finding a job, or helping at home or
paying for the groceries. There was no peace to be had at all.
Maybe Jeremiah was right after all when he’d said that Sycko could
find his heart’s desire in the temple.

“Yes, well something like that,”
Jeremiah said not quite understanding what Sycko meant. He quickly
smiled. “Is it agreed then?” he asked. “Will you come and stay with
us and learn our ways?”

“All right, yeah, I’ll shake
hands on that, Jeremiah. You’re the most decent bloke I’ve ever
met. I don’t think anyone has ever been so generous and kind to me.
I’ll be happy to be here.”

Jeremiah beamed with joy. “The
Lord be blessed thrice over!” he exclaimed. “What a joy, what an
exultation there shall be!”

Sycko returned to the temple
later that forenoon. When he got home to pick up his things his
mother was predictably mad that he had lost another job.

“And now you’ll be on our hands
again, like a millstone round our necks. You never manage to keep
any job longer than a fortnight, you useless lazy lad. Laziness it
is, I’m telling you, laziness.”

“Well don’t worry. I’m just back
to pack my things and leave. I’m making myself a new life.”

After some more arguing he left
home leaving his mother behind in tears. ‘What the heck,’ he
thought. ‘If she wants to cry let her cry. No way anyone’s going to
stop me from living in a place where no one expects me to work.
This is great. And if I can live for free I don’t mind drooling for
them every day if they like it so much.’

Sycko started his new life by
doing what he did best, lazing around. He got his first free lunch
at noon and then spent the rest of the afternoon smoking and
relaxing in his new room. There was a wooden bed, a small white
table and a solitary chair, and at the front of the bed stood a
small sofa facing a TV set that was fastened to the wall. Beside
the bed was a small bedside table with a drawer. He opened the
drawer and saw a single book lying in it entitled The Holy Dryvel.
It was very thick, at least a thousand pages he decided. He wasn’t
much of a reader so he quickly put the book back and closed the
drawer. He tried the TV but there was no reception. “Nothing’s
perfect, I guess. I’ll just ask Jeremiah to fix it.”

In the evening there was a knock
at the door. Sycko opened and saw a young woman roughly his own age
smiling at him. She was carrying a tray with food and drink.

“Hi,” she said. “Jeremiah
thought you might want dinner in your room today as you’re not
feeling so well.”

“Oh yeah, hey thanks. Just come
right in.”

She put the tray on the table.
“Enjoy your dinner,” she said in a pleasant voice and left the room
before Sycko had time to say anything.

“This is just getting better and
better,” he said. “Almost like in a hotel. I’ve really hit the
jackpot this time. I’m almost grateful to Judas.”

There was even some aspirin on
the tray. He took one and then lay down to sleep the first night in
his grand new life.

A
Clean Slate

Even noble souls

can be corrupted

with wrong education.

Plato, The Republic

The next day was a Friday. Sycko
woke up early. For the first time in many a year he was looking
forward to the day to come. On the chair he saw some new clothes.
Someone had come at night to make sure he could dress in the right
way. There was a white shirt and a black suit. “Not my style
really,” he said, “but what the heck. If life in paradise means
wearing this stuff then I’ll wear it.”