Read A Handicap of the Devil? Online
Authors: Allen Lyne
"It is,” said Marcie. “He's on the level. He's on a mission from God, and the rabbits have been ordained to help him."
"Yeah, yeah. And I'm Captain Cook, returned from the dead via a space ship piloted by Elvis. Pull the other one."
"This is for real, you little jerk."
"Yeah, about as real as talking rabbits."
"We can talk,” said Bugs pompously. “We bring messages from God."
"Yes we do,” Thumper agreed. “And right now we want to go home and go down our burrow and have a big sleep. We're very tired."
"We were up all day.” Bugs yawned.
No one in the van heard them except Marcie and Jonathan. The argument subsided, and two hours later the van turned along a country road following the river. Sampson stopped the van and the dwarf jumped out, opened a gate, and closed it again once the van drove through. They drove up to a dilapidated houseboat and got out.
Outside the gate the large black car without headlights that had followed them all the way from the Blofield West Town Hall unseen slid to a stop. The two heavyset men peered from the window.
"We're squatting here for the time being.” Cowley led the way onto the warped deck and they trooped inside, Jonathan holding the rabbits’ box.
"We're really hungry. Is there anything to eat?” Bugs looked hopeful. Marcie went back onto shore, picked the rabbits an armful of grass and weeds, and put it into the box. The ravenous rabbits began munching immediately.
"Has anyone got a carrot or some endive?” asked Thumper, but there was no such luxury to be found on the boat.
They sat around a kerosene heater in the main cabin of the houseboat. It was dry and comfortable with cushions and old beanbag chairs spread around the room. The sound of Bugs and Thumper munching grass and weeds was clearly audible.
"See, it's like this,” said the dwarf. “When we moved in to squat in that house in town we didn't know that it was being set up as a drug store. The ceiling was full of grass and heroin as well as coke and pills, and so was the shed out the back. We just thought we'd struck it lucky. Then the phone started ringing with people looking to buy stuff, and the thugs arrived to try to get us out. We were packing the shit into garbage bags to move as much as we could carry when you came along."
"We had a stolen van full of drugs in the driveway.” Sampson grinned. “That's why we was so nervous."
"So, where are the drugs now?” Marcie moved her beanbag chair a little closer to the heater.
"Right here in this boat.” The dwarf smirked. “We took the really good stuff mainly. The heroin and coke plus as much grass as we could stuff in the van. We was trying to sell it. I thought maybe we could get rich, buy a house, get off welfare."
"What do you want from us?” Jonathan was aware of how tired he felt.
"She's a crime journo. She knows all the druggies around. If we can unload this shit, we give you a percentage for helping.” The dwarf was excited.
"The name's Marcie, and no way Jose will I ever get involved in trying to sell drugs. I don't even use them."
"There's a lot of bread involved here."
"Stuff the money. I've seen what drugs do to people."
"Why not turn this stuff over to the police and get out of it altogether?” Jonathan tried.
Sampson started to get angry. “Bullshit, man. You ever been poor? We scored here big time. This is our chance to get off the shit heap and you want to give it to the cops? What for? So they can sell it instead of us?"
"Join my crusade. You won't be on the heap when I accomplish my task. God has sent me on a mission to unite humanity into one. No more prejudices, racial, religious, gender, against handicapped people. None. You will all be treated like everyone else. There will be equal opportunity for all and everyone will share the world's abundant resources."
"Isn't that communism?” asked the dwarf.
"No, it's fairness,” replied Cowley.
"You're asking us to believe that this guy has been sent on a mission from God?” Sampson was laughing.
You want us to throw our lot in with a crazy who reckons he sees God?” The dwarf laughed too.
"Hey man, I see God on all my better trips.” Sampson had rolled himself an enormous joint that he was offering around. Old Crone toked and passed the joint on to Cowley.
Now it was Marcie's turn to get angry. She turned to Sampson. “He does talk to God through those rabbits. I've heard them talk."
"Then how come we can't hear them lady, and nobody in that hall heard them neither?"
"I don't know. Let's try again.” Jonathan opened the box where the rabbits were feeding. They both stretched to their full extent and yawned. It was a manoeuvre he often saw after they had been eating for a while. It seemed that by stretching and yawning they forced food further down their digestive tracts and made room for more.
"Can you two contact God for me?"
"Can we finish dinner first?"
"We're still hungry."
"You're always hungry and it is rather important."
"Oh, alright then.” Thumper and Bugs concentrated hard and within a few seconds Bugs said, “God wants to know what you want."
"Tell him I need to convince this bunch of unbelievers that my mission is as I said it is."
"He said that's what he wanted you to do."
"Only one person has believed me so far, and she heard the rabbits talk."
"Why are you talking to yourself, man?” The dwarf was floating.
"He's not. The rabbits are talking to God for him.” Marcie waved Jonathan on.
"Yeah, yeah.” The four handicapped people were still passing the joint, which was beginning to take effect.
"God said he can't do it all for you."
"It's alright for him. When his son had to convince people he had that walking on water trick and the loaves and fishes thing to work with. I need to be able to perform miracles to convince people."
"No you don't. You can't perform miracles, and that's the whole point.” The voice was huge, bouncing off the walls of the houseboat. The four handicapped people sat bolt upright in amazement, as God and St. Peter appeared in a blinding light at one end of the cabin.
"Hey, what a trip man.” The dwarf dragged back hugely on the joint before passing to Sampson.
"Can you see that too?” Cowley was awestruck
"Wow, far out. Joint trip.” Sampson drew back an enormous toke.
"Ooo wah,” muttered a very stoned Old Crone.
"Yeah, but is it a trip?” whispered Cowley, who was the least stoned of all.
"Oooooh, be quiet.” God waved his hand and the four handicapped people fell instantly into a deep sleep. Marcie plucked the joint out of Sampson's fingers and stubbed it out in the ashtray. Bugs and Thumper returned to their dinner.
"Now what's this nonsense about not getting people to believe you?"
"Well you saw what happened at the meeting,” returned Jonathan.
"Meeting?"
"Could you turn the light down? It's hard to see you.” Marcie was shielding her eyes from the light, as was Jonathan.
"Oh, sorry.” St. Peter waved a hand and the bright light surrounding him and God dimmed to a reasonable level.
"Thank you.” Jonathan dropped his hands. “We had a meeting at Blofield West Town Hall, and it turned into a riot. We almost got beaten up, and the rabbits were nearly taken away and eaten."
Bugs and Thumper looked up from their dinner and shuddered.
"Get up off you knees and look me in the eye, Jonathan,” said God. “I want obedience not all this grovelling nonsense."
"But..."
"Never mind what you thought. You are made in my image. Do you see me crawling around on my knees with hands clasped in supplication?” St. Peter laughed. “And you be quiet too or I won't bring you next time. All I've ever asked is that people live a reasonable life. Keep the commandments. Don't kill one another. Don't steal from one another. Respect your neighbours and their property. Honour your parents. That sort of thing. Is that so hard?"
"Steady on, God."
"You be quiet Peter. I'm allowed to preach occasionally. It's one of the things I do really well."
"Yes, but do you have to be so didactic?"
"There is a time for didacticism and this is it. I chose you because you are a very ordinary mortal. I want to see if your fellow human beings are capable of accepting a message from one of their own. Why don't people believe you? Doesn't anyone believe in miracles anymore?"
"They think I'm just another crackpot or a con man out to rip them off some way. So many people have said they have information about the second coming that no one seriously believes anyone anymore. Why didn't you help us at that meeting? You could have convinced a hall full of people and things might have spread from there."
"I didn't know about your stupid meeting. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you knew everything."
"Well I don't and I can't help if I'm not informed. Anyway, I don't want to be constantly harassed by you because you can't get things together yourself. I may as well have simply come to Earth and done the job myself."
"Why didn't you?” Jonathan was unhappy. “You surely could convince people you are who you say you are. I'm having trouble convincing anyone."
"It has to start with you. If you can convince people to live a reasonable life in peace and harmony with one another. If you can convince mankind to live as one in the great brotherhood of man. If you can convince the rich nations and people to share with the poor. If you can find a way to make people truly open their hearts to one another and live a good life free from all these wars. Free from hunger and want. To lift from poverty and starvation the great mass of people on this planet who live in such degradation, then I will forgive the human race and once again take some responsibility for you. It has to come from you and you must change the mindset of people to succeed. This is no easy task. I never said it would be, but you agreed to attempt it."
"Oh, I'm sorry, but that's not really true. The way you put it at our first meeting was do this or go to hell."
"You think hell is worse than what you have created here on Earth? Have you had a look at Africa or parts of Asia and South America lately? Have you checked out any of the war zones? Seen the murder and wholesale slaughter masquerading under the euphemism
ethnic cleansing
. No, show people the truth, that there are enough resources here in this world to have every man, woman and child go to bed with a full stomach every night. Enough resources for every person to have a decent standard of living, food, clothing, shelter, education, leisure,
happiness,
and I'll return to serve you as well as be your Godhead. Fail and I abandon you for the last time. The key stays in the cupboard. You are the light and the hope of your world.” He glanced at Marcie and the rabbits. “You, this woman, and these two rabbits.” The rabbits looked up at God with their myopic pink eyes. “Succeed and we have universal happiness and plenty. Succeed and heaven will be your reward and you will go there after your Earthly duty is done to remain in peace and happiness for eternity. Fail and the world continues on its greedy grasping path to oblivion. How you do this is your business and I will not intercede for you. No more meetings. Tell Bugs and Thumper to contact me when you consider that you have succeeded or failed. I may talk to you again then."
"Will we go to this place heaven too if it all works out?” Thumper's voice was small as she and Bugs looked diffidently at God and St. Peter.
"Who said there were no rabbits in heaven? It wasn't me.” God's voice took on the same booming quality as when he arrived. The light around him and St. Peter intensified to the point where Jonathan, Marcie and the rabbits had to close their eyes. When they opened them again God and St. Peter had vanished.
"Oh, great,” said Marcie, as the rabbits settled down for a sleep. “Just convince the human race to stop tearing itself apart. A nice easy brief."
Jonathan seemed to have withdrawn into himself and gave her no reply. He looked worried. The four handicapped people slept on in their God and marijuana induced haze.
Marcie lay back on her beanbag chair with her eyes open. She knew she would do everything in her power to try to make Jonathan's mission a success for two reasons. The first was her deepening love for Jonathan and for the principles he espoused. The second was because of the debt she owed to God and St. Peter.
'I wonder if God ever changes out of that caftan?’ she thought as she drifted off to sleep on her beanbag chair.
The dwarf, Old Crone, Cowley and Sampson met at a drop in centre for dropouts. Like the dwarf, each person there had a story to tell—some sadder than others—but all sad for one reason or another.
Sampson had been born without a nose and with a toothless hole for a mouth. He was battered and abused by his parents as a child, to the point where he hit the streets at a very early age and remained there. His body was big and strong, and he got casual labouring work from time to time in places where people could stand his looks.
Old Crone had lived a reasonable life in various homes for the intellectually handicapped after her parents rejected her. Then a conservative government decided to close all of the places of refuge for such people and ‘integrate them into society'. This meant the expenditure of much less money, which was the ultimate aim, but led to much social dislocation and much pain. Intellectually handicapped people had major ‘accidents’ or minor ones like sitting all day in the burning sun because no one told them to go inside. Some suffered sunstroke and massive burns to every part of their bodies exposed to the hot Australian sunshine. Old Crone lost both of her sunburnt legs when she walked under a train at a crossing. She got about after a time of rehabilitation on two artificial legs with the assistance of a walking frame or crutches.
Cowley, who was born without ears and with a hump on her back, had loving parents who were both killed in a road accident. She became welfare dependent at an early age and got into drugs. Cowley was surprisingly well read for someone who left school at the early age of fourteen, and she made a point of reading the Bible as part of her search for understanding. She was an agnostic, who considered questions of God and the universe as beyond her comprehension, and beyond the comprehension of any mere mortal.