Read The Urban Book of the Dead Online

Authors: Jonathan Cottam

The Urban Book of the Dead (5 page)

BOOK: The Urban Book of the Dead
2.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

On the last bit I spat crumbs in her face carelessly, she was not amused.

Sternly she said, “I put a lot of effort into those, it was Aleister Crowley’s recipe and no one gave God more shit than him. Except Lucifer. At least drink the wine, it is essential in a most remarkable way, the satisfaction of which will become clear later.”

I drank the whole bottle of wine straight down, to please her again and to impress her, to be her man. It burned my throat and reddened my lips. It hit me and I fell back on my toes, almost taking to the air on my back.

“We are going to set God a little trap” she smiled producing a piece of chalk in her hand. She marked my armchair with it. I felt a silly injury to my house proud ness, like she was hurting me but it felt good. Then I thought how silly that was with the crumbling walls and the burnt carpet. The markings she drew were obviously of the craft but I did not recognise them. She smiled and produced an old fashioned alarm clock with hammer and bells from behind her back again. “This will go off at a certain time and summon him we will not be here, I think he will come, he is expecting you to lay out your terms and make a deal, to save his skin, which he probably sheds in the Sun anyway. I want you to synchronise your watch and set the alarm to the same time.”

I did, “Where are we going?” I demanded to know.

“Back to an unpleasant but brave moment for you; the Irish.” She stated a little sullenly for my benefit.

“Oh God not the Irish” I said.

Then we were back at my old flat in Avenham, it was empty. I heard a crash far off “That’s the brick with the note on it going through their window” I said, amusedly stating a regrettable fact. There was the sound of trainers going up the flat stairs, “That’s me and ginger Kieran returning” I continued.

The door to the flat opened and Kieran and Monster stepped in. The door was a new one from the council and Monster locked it putting the inbuilt deadlocks in place. “The deadlocks will give him an extra three seconds” I dialogued to Judith. Then I added “It won’t do any good you know, to change history.”

Judith replied with aggressive vigour “I don’t intend to, think more laterally, I learnt this from Crowley he was a right cunning bastard you know, adept at magic; how he managed to turn a cowardly succession of victories into a glorious defeat, is a puzzle that keeps God awake at night; and I should know I’ve slept with him.”

With that revelation my heart appeared to sink and crash with the bang on the door. Which for a second I took to be its own journey. My old nick name was called out, “Monster, open the door” Came an angry voice between large vibrating slams.

Judith laughed “Ha! ‘Monster’ how apt, why not the Beast?”

I replied creasing my face in a wince at the pattern of events “That name was purely for the size of my drugs habit.”

Monster had got up and was kicking the door angrily “Give me the fucking money back”, the door took the strain but on the other side was the splintering of wood as the dead locks were pulled out. The door flew open and Monster made a dignified retreat into the living room with the pale and silent Kieren, as four burly and very angry Irish stormed in with chisels, hammers, screw drivers and iron bars, all with blazing red hair, one tall, one sad looking with a moustache, one fat and stocky looking like his flesh would explode if his blood pressure were to increase by a single degree, and of course, one with no legs I had only seen before in a wheel chair.

Judith analysed “That man has plastic legs, that’s as surreal as anything I’ve seen in the after world.” The slow and incredulous look dawning on Monster’s face showed a similar line of thought. Monster was now staring rudely.

The fat one called out “Sit down” and Monster did, somewhat defiantly though “Give me my fucking money back” he said. Possibly fearing repercussions from my six foot seven and huge supplier I noticed for the first time that the tall one slipped the purse with the cannabis deal money into a table draw when Monster wasn’t looking “You see I knew it, I always knew I didn’t misplace that money” But Judith had moved and she looked at me holding up a piece of chalk and proceeded to draw an ‘X’ several feet away from Monster’s chair.

The four, gathered round Monster with their weapons to Monster’s face, I looked defiant as counter accusations were made, but there was a diverted look on my face to the side and I knew Judith had stepped over and made her self visible.

Judith said with her friendliest and most reassuring look to a stunned me “Trust me. Move your chair three feet towards the window as though you are shrinking away, then insult them as bad as you can when I say now.”

Monster shrank away in his chair, and at that moment my alarm went off, I looked at my watch with it’s soft Dalliesque face. Then when I looked up Monster must have been given the cue.

“You shouldn’t even be hear, you’ve stolen your legs off your sisters action man, and as for you, you’re gonna a have coronary if you get any more angry or lift that bar in anger, why don’t you go back to your IRA momma . . . .”

The tools came raining down but we were back in the spirit flat. God was taking the paggering of his life from the unseeing Irish, his body too soft in this dimension, the mask face cracked and mouth opened in a surprised “O”. His arm came up to protect himself from the blows and made a u-bend when a bar hit it. He crumpled to the floor and the Irish disappeared.

Judith laughed clapping and gave me a push “I bet you need a piss from that wine don’t you?”

My bladder was painfully full.

“Go on, do it; take a piss on God.” She carried on; pushing me again.

I unzipped my flies hastily and with difficulty, the zip was bendy. Then it poured yellow down on God, little steamy pools congregating on the rumples of his suit, his head covered by the busted alarm clock with it’s cracked face, still ringing, telegraphing his head ache, and the little bell hammer still beating him. An arm went in the air with a gesture and he disappeared.

Judith looked at me with an estimating smile, her eyes moving up and down my body. Well I had better be off, I’m going into hiding and I suggest you do the same, I left a little present for you first in the kitchen, it’s the wrap with the love heart on it. She disappeared.

I went into the kitchen and got the small paper wrap, heroin is usually in a tiny cellophane bag, it is usually speed in a wrap, I wondered what was in the wrap, possibly MDMA, I hoped so. I went back into the living room; I undid the wrap and put the contents on a spoon and cooked it up over my Zippo, a little piece of cigarette filter bobbed and floated in the spoon, for a moment I saw my self floating there, warm and relaxed, I pulled the substance into the needle and I gripped a tourniquet around my arm and I hit my arm to get some veins up, then I put the needle in my arm and pulled up the syringe to make sure there was blood in it. I injected the substance into my vein. I immediately felt a warm giddy melting feeling, like a large dose of LSD, I laughed uncontrollably and felt in love with Judith, that it had always been Judith and she had left me her love in a package. I looked at the wrapper to see if there was any left and there was a message in tiny letters with bigger letters signing it ‘God’. It read, “sorry I got there first and adulterated it, you’ve just took a hot shot, and boy is it going to get hot.” I groaned resignation mixed with pleasure and fell unconscious.

I awoke up in searing heat. Naked. So hot was it choking black smoke was burning off my body cramped and knelt in a small padlocked bird cage. I could not move my wings. The horizon was curved and everything was red lava with sulphurous clouds in the distance. A small bird toy mirror hurt me with its intense light dazzle in the cage, and I could see my stern face reflected. I gathered this was the famous Hell; another name for it might be the planet Venus.

I smiled in the mirror as a yellow cloud raced over and covered me; it burnt me in unbelievable pain. I watched in the mirror as its acidity dissolved my flesh and then the muscles tensing underneath until nothing was left but my still grinning skull. It was absolutely horrifying. Then the cloud went away and my flesh had a chance to reform. But the cloud came again, and again my flesh was stripped, and so on.

I pulled my little finger off my right hand and waited in horror for the cloud to come again. The cloud came and I reformed, this time with a bone finger loose to pick the massive lock. I knew how to pick locks from my squatting days and I went to work wriggling it in the lock. I sprang open the cage door and took big burning breath as I stretched my body upwards to get rid of the cramps and in triumph.

I set off for a walk, wandering for help; my wings were still hopelessly cramped and no good for flying. With every step I took my feet sank into the lava, the flesh on them unravelled and burnt away to the bone (I had bones here!) and then reformed as I lifted them out for another step. Some times the yellow clouds would come and I collapsed in a pile of bones, aware and waiting for them to pass. The Sun burnt down and followed, whipping me with tendrils of light that seared my flesh, it seemed to be alive in much the same way as an animal, moving in an attack formation backwards and forwards, in my dazed state I could not tell if this was true or an optical illusion, however, as I have stated, it is enough to imagine something is true here to make it so.

As I made my way on, thinking how I could get away from here, whether any of my magic could possibly be strong enough, the clouds came again, just as the Sun lashed me on my arse so I fell to the floor, as I started knitting together again, a vulture of metal, suited to this climate, tried to make off with my severed arm as I gained flesh, I wrestled for the arm with my good one, and it spanned its wings in the air, shading me in a fan of metal blades and cogs against the bright light behind it, having pulled the bird in I tried to dash it against the ground, hoping to kill it and use it for shade and armour against the Sun, but it sped off, releasing my arm which I attached back. For some time later it made dives at me, tearing out clumps of flesh from my side and eating the liver.

As I detected a movement and a splash of sand on the ground, I was too late to still my travelling foot, and it came down on an emerald crusted lizard. The lizard bit me and as I lifted my foot high in the air it hung on to my smouldering big toe. I shook it off.

Immediately I realised the lizard had a defence poison of a paralysing and hallucinogenic nature as I fell to the ground. Not being able to help my imagination the lizard grew in size, stood on hind legs and took on some of the appearances of a man, the human face jutted its green chin in the air vainly and nonchalantly and its tail flicked me with burning dirt. Then the lizard multiplied and surrounded me. The lizard men did some kind of snake dance then flicking me with their tails they started to bury me with flesh dissolving mud. There was the ‘thud, thud’ of my own burial into the ground.

With some effort I managed to come around and imagined the lizard’s away and sweated its swelling and blackening poison out of my body. I stood up on my blackened and earth eaten shanks and carried on walking, because there were clouds gathering in the sky.

Much later on, I felt breathing on my neck, exited breathing which seemed sexual but could just as easily of been the breathing of some hungry beast anticipating an easy and sizable meal. I turned around fast and lighted on nothing, but then I noticed, as far as I could see, two sets of foot prints. I grabbed behind me and held on to something very sticky. The thing squealed and I turned to face it as it tugged away. I was face to face with a bikini clad woman, but elongated and black, a late evening shadow, her skin was covered in a tar like substance, perhaps a natural protection from the heat, the face was pretty with delicate bird like bones, but the eyes seemed way too white against the skin and her lips looked strange, being very pink against the black flesh, her tongue also very pink moved over her lips very eagerly, as though she was either unconsciously kissing me or about to eat a good meal. In the hand I had hold of something glinted and I wrestled it off her thinking it was a weapon. I was wrong, it was a picture of me inside a simple gold frame, I looked at it carefully and wondered. The woman got on her knees and begged for it silently, I gave her it back.

The clouds started swirling towards us and we both looked at them worried and anticipating pain. But there was a rumble in the distance and a small speck racing in front of the clouds and moving faster, the girl grinned, getting off her knees. The speck turned into a car, a fifties style car with fins on the back and the paint stripped off by the heat so it gleamed metallic, the wheels were on fire, blending in to the horizon. Three women as thin and shadowy as the one before me were in the car, also in bikinis.

The car pulled up to us and on seeing me up close the women put their heads forward opening their pink mouths wide and starred, then put their left hands to their heart and gave a Nazi style salute, which I took to be their form of greeting and returned. The woman who was with me beckoned to me to get in the car fast, I had gathered they were all mute or had no form of language; I also took in that this was Hell, and they were probably a bad lot. As the clouds approached we sped off, racing them, the flames from the tyres flowing curvaceously behind us and at our sides.

Eventually we were travelling on sand with the clouds some way behind us, the car stopped with a screech. We all got out and one of the women took a bucket and spade from the boot, the kind of bucket sand castles are made from, it had four simple turrets. The woman filled the bucket with sand, the sand was solid because it was partly molten, then she turned the bucket over on the ground, looking nervously at the approaching clouds as she did. With the castle made she mimed to me to jump on the castle. I did not know why she wanted me to destroy it, but she made the gesture of a leap on to the castle again and looked behind her and I did as she asked.

BOOK: The Urban Book of the Dead
2.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Breaking Out by Lydia Michaels
Wolf Signs by Vivian Arend
Bugging Out by Noah Mann
The Dangerous Gift by Hunt, Jane
Already Dead by Jaye Ford
A City Tossed and Broken by Judy Blundell
Under the Jeweled Sky by Alison McQueen
Floodgate by Alistair MacLean