The Temple (5 page)

Sycko looked surprised. “No,
nothing like that. I’ve got a new life. I relax, smoke and drink
every day now. At the moment I’m doing my work.”

“Your work? What are you
doing?”

“I’m walking, smoking and
thinking about this top hat and God.”

“That’s what you call work?”

“Why yes, certainly. Want a
fag?”

“A fag?”

“A cigarette. Here have one of
mine.” He held out the packet of Drivellers’ Fags and Judas took
one. Judas lit his fag, inhaled deeply and squinted at Sycko.

“You’ll have to tell me all
about it, pal. No way you get away till I know it all.”

They walked, talked and smoked
and Sycko related what had happened to him since the night they
parted in the park.

“I don’t know,” Judas said at
last. “My old man always used to say there’s no such thing as a
free meal in life and you seem to have been getting far too many
already. It’s all going to come back to you one day, mark my
words.”

“Oh nonsense. Why don’t you come
with me and meet Jeremiah? He’s the nicest, most kind-hearted bloke
you could imagine.”

“Really,” Judas said doubtfully.
“I guess having a look won’t do any harm. I’m curious about that
outfit of yours anyway. Let’s go.”

Sycko led the way to the temple
where he found that Jeremiah was waiting for him already.

“Ah, there you are Sycko,
excellent. How did it go?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I was
thinking and praying to God for inspiration regarding the top hat
but instead He chose to put me in the way of an old friend. This is
Judas.”

Jeremiah frowned. “How very
interesting and unexpected,” he said and held out his hand to
Judas. “Jeremiah, Master of the Holy Dryvellist Temple. Glad to
make your acquaintance. Are you in any way familiar with the lore
of top hats or Dryvellism?”

“Hi,” Judas said feeling a bit
embarrassed. “Can’t say I know anything about them except for what
Sycko told me.”

“I see,” Jeremiah said, “or
rather I don’t see. It’s all rather mysterious. Why did the Lord
send you? It’s a mystery we shall have to explore.”

“No one sent me. I just took a
short cut through the park and ran into Sycko. It’s bound to happen
sooner or later. Just a chance meeting. There’s your mystery
explained.”

“Nay, nay, young man,” Jeremiah
chuckled. “Things don’t just happen by chance. There’s a higher
purpose behind everything, a divine plan. Oh, I know, I know, it
can be very hard to understand at times, but always remember that
the Lord works in mysterious ways. It is not always for us to
understand everything. We must content ourselves to play the parts
we are given. But come, I’ll show you something.”

They went into the grand hall
and sat down on cushions in the very middle as always. Jeremiah put
the sacred top hat between them.

“Now then, young man,” he said
to Judas. “I invite you to share with us a unique experience. Let
us contemplate the sacred top hat and drivel together to come
together in holy communion with the Lord.”

Jeremiah and Sycko immediately
started drooling and soon saliva was running down their chins and
dripping onto their shirts. Judas looked on aghast.

“Yuck,” Judas said at last.
“You’re spitting all over your shirts. That’s gross man. I mean,
it’s like you’re six months old or something.”

Jeremiah was outraged. “How dare
you insult me to my face like that! Don’t you know who I am and
where you are?”

Judas was taken aback by the
vehemence of the outburst. “Hey, no offence mister, but I ain’t see
nothing wrong with calling a spade a spade.”

Jeremiah took a deep breath and
fought to regain his composure. “Oh well, young man, I suppose it
is not your fault since you are not acquainted with the facts. It
is the government who is really to blame for so shamefully
neglecting the most important part of your education. After all we
are all Dryvellers from the moment we are born.”

“What do you mean we are all
Dryvellers? I ain’t a Dryveller. There are so many people who
believe nothing, and what about the other religions? You can’t call
all those folks Dryvellers.”

“But they are, they are. Observe
how an infant from the day it is born drivels. We are all born this
way. Of course I understand that all too many of us are led astray,
are told lies and are kept in the dark by evil conniving forces who
exploit them. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t Dryvellers. Once a
Dryveller, always a Dryveller. It may be said that those poor souls
who are held in ignorance could still have a chance of finding
forgiveness, but anyone wilfully denying the truth of Dryvellism is
in a state of revolt against the Lord and without any doubt an
abomination in the eyes of God.”

“Are you calling me an
abomination just because I don’t want to join you in spitting on my
shirt?”

“Oh Judas,” Sycko interrupted.
“If only you had been here last night. It was wonderful. The Lord
himself performed miracles. Two poor exiles were healed in front of
my very eyes. I swear to you it’s the truth.”

Judas laughed. “Yea, I’ve heard
about that already. Hardly a miracle. I know those two. They ain’t
exiles and they’re quite healthy. Fraudula and Mendax have been
acting in plenty of cheap performances in places I like to go to.
How much did you pay them to come here?”

Jeremiah went bright red in the
face. “Never in my life have I been so vilely insulted! How dare
you! I… I, you, out, be gone, get out of the house of God. You have
no right to insult our sacred beliefs. How dare you drag my good
name in the dirt with your filthy lies!”

Jeremiah was on his feet in a
trice and chased after Judas who beat a hasty retreat out of the
temple. Still fuming Jeremiah came back into the hall where Sycko
was sitting mortified.

“Hatred,” Jeremiah called out.
“Do you see the hatred that we Dryvellers come face to face with?
My dear Sycko, I am sorry I lost my temper, I do apologize. But to
think how much those poor refugees had to suffer in their young
lives just to be branded liars and insulted in the house of God. It
was too much. I could not contain myself any longer. I know I
sinned but I’m sure I will find forgiveness. And to think that you
brought that villain here with the best of intentions. You wanted
to help him revert to Dryvellism. And did he submit himself to the
truth? No! He turned out to be a traitor, a venomous serpent that
would strike even at one he called friend. Let this be a lesson to
you, my poor Sycko. There are many evils in the world and we must
never let our guard down. Hatred and Dryvellophobia may come in
many guises. But let us think no more of the matter. Let us focus
on the good, on the things that we can still achieve. In any case
it is almost noonday. I propose that we continue our conversation
after lunch.”

Jeremiah picked up the top hat
and walked away without waiting for a reply.

But if the forenoon had proved
to be unpleasant, lunch was even worse. They had scarcely been
seated when a cry came from the main entrance. “Master! Master
Jeremiah! Come quickly!”

Jeremiah ran out of the dining
hall followed by the others. The front door was wide open and one
of the delivery men, a devoted Dryveller himself, stood there
visibly shaken.

“What is it man?” Jeremiah
asked. “Speak up.”

Unable to say a word the man
just pointed at two posters hanging beside the entrance.

Becoming Offended –

The last Refuge of a
Scoundrel:

When caught in an unethical
action,

a scoundrel will often feign
offence.  

It puts the accuser on the
defensive

and it often works like magic
in derailing a confrontation.

Jeremiah turned as pale as a
ghost. “Alas, my brethren. Not here as well. Dryvellophobia! The
haters have found us. First Syldavia and now here. Woe the day, woe
the day that the enemies of God attacked His holy temple. Oh, it is
too much! I can’t anymore. My heart won’t take it.”

Jeremiah clutched his heart and
several of the brethren quickly came to his aid.

“Master Jeremiah, what have you?
What is it?”

But Jeremiah just shook his
head. He made short feeble steps back into the temple and permitted
the brethren to take him back to his chamber where he lay down
exhausted from the horrible ordeal. Sycko went into his room on
tiptoes and left Jeremiah’s lunch on his table. After that no one
dared disturb him for the rest of the day.

Sycko tore the offending posters
off the wall and screwed them up. “Curse you, Judas,” he said
bitterly. “If you want hatred then so be it. Do as you would be
done by.”

Another Miracle

Riches that are the fruit

of dishonest work

are full of shame.

Democritus

Sycko came into Jeremiah’s
study, a medium sized room with white walls and a brown wooden desk
in the middle. The only shelf in the room was occupied by one book,
The Holy Dryvel. The only other thing of interest in the room was a
computer on the desk. Whenever Sycko had surprised Jeremiah working
on the computer he had always closed any open windows before Sycko
could see what he was doing. Today, however, the computer was
pushed to one side and Jeremiah was busy with plaster, paint and
some other things.

“Good morrow, Master Jeremiah,”
he said politely. “What are you doing?”

“And a good morrow to you, my
young friend. Come and join me. I’m sure you’ll find this very
interesting and most instructive. I’m making a statue of holy
Diana. I see you look confused. Permit me to explain. Diana is the
goddess of
the
hunt
, the
moon
and
birthing
. She
is
important to us Dryvellers as a divine lunar being and because she
helps with the process of giving birth to babies who themselves
will be drivelling. Look at these two pictures of her. In the first
you see her standing with bow and arrow ready to shoot, an
important action in life. Are we not all hunting for something?

And in the second picture you
see her with a crescent moon on her head.”

“I thought there was only one
God,” Sycko said slowly.

“Why yes, certainly. There is
God our Lord and there is Diana the moon who is one with the Lord.
Are not your parents a father and a mother and yet they are
one?”

Sycko looked nonplussed. “So why
are you making a statue of her?”

“This statue will take a place
of honour in the grand hall. What we need is a hollow statue made
of a porous material such as plaster. Our icon must be glazed or
painted with some sort of impermeable coating. If the statue is
then filled up with a liquid, which we can do surreptitiously,
through this tiny hole in the head, the porous material will absorb
it, but the glazing will stop it from flowing out. If the glazing,
however, is imperceptibly scratched away on or around the eyes,
tear-like drops will leak out, as if materializing from thin
air.”