Godless (10 page)

He makes a sound, something like “Urgh.” I take that as a good sign.

“I'm gonna grab your foot and move it, okay?” Without waiting for another “urgh,” I clasp his right foot in my hand and slowly pull it out from where he has it wedged between the cables, move it down six inches, and shove it back. He doesn't resist, but he isn't exactly helping.

“I'm right here. I'm not going to let you fall.” Another lie? I hope not. “You gotta move one of your hands now, Shin. Do it slow, like a snail. I won't let you fall.”

“Okay,” he says in a small voice.

I wait. It takes almost a minute, but finally he manages to loosen his death grip on the cable and slide it down.

“Okay, now your other foot.” I tap his ankle to let him know which one. A few seconds later he twists his foot and wriggles it out from between the cables and moves it down. “You got it, buddy, I say. Now your other hand …”

Five minutes later we are down. Shin is squatting on the ground, his arms wrapped around his knees, shaking.

“I'm useless,” he says.

“No you're not.”

“I froze up.”

“Look, Spidey, it ain't that easy. I froze up too.”

“You did?”

“Henry had to talk me up.”

“What did he do—threaten to slime you?”

“No…. Would that have worked on you?”

“I don't even remember. We were climbing, and it was really hard. My arms hurt and I was starting to get dizzy … then all of a sudden you were underneath me, talking.” He gives me a startled look. “How did you get underneath me?”

“I took a shortcut,” I say, pointing up.

Shin is rocking back and forth. “Some First Keeper I am. The Ten-legged One won't even let me climb him.”

He looks so miserable that I say, “Sure he will. The Ten-legged One was just testing you. I know a way to get you up there. I mean, you're coming to Midnight Mass, right?”

“Midnight Mass?”

“Next Tuesday.”

“This is the first I've heard about it.”

“I just decided. The entire CTG is going up. All of us.”

“Even Magda?”

“Sure. Why not?”

He tips his head back and stares up at the belly of the
god. “You really think you can get me up there?”

“Absolutely,” I say with complete confidence. “I have a plan.”

But, of course, I'm lying again.

The next day I happen to decide to take a walk, and I happen to walk in a southeasterly direction, and I happen to be walking past Wigglesworth's Juiceteria when I happen to glance through the front window and happen to notice the Chutengodian High Priestess behind the juice bar blending a raspberry smoothie. I happen to open the door and walk inside.

“Hey,” I say, suave as can be.

“Hi, Jason,” Magda says, smiling.

“I came to collect my free Brainblaster.”

“Coming right up.” She grabs a clean blender bowl and starts adding ingredients.

“What's in those things, anyway?”

“It's a secret.”

“There are no secrets between Chutengodians.”

“If I tell you, I could get fired.”

“Just tell me what makes 'em green. It's not asparagus, is it?”

Magda leans across the counter and whispers, “Kiwi fruit.”

“Ah!” I watch as she blends the kiwi concoction into a wicked-looking froth.

“There you go.” She hands me the cup, then says with a grin, “Don't spill it this time.”

“I'll try not to.” I take a sip. “Well blended!”

“I'm a professional.” She is looking right at me and smiling. I feel all foamy inside, and I don't think it's the Brainblaster.

“You still want to climb the tower?” I ask.

She nods, making her eyes big.

“We're thinking Tuesday night.”

“Will Henry be there?”

“Um … I think so.”

“Good, that sounds like fun.”

“Good? I thought you didn't like Henry.”

“I just think he's kind of scary.”

“Oh.”

“But
interesting
.”

I slurp my Brainblaster. Uh-oh. Too much. The pain hits me high on my forehead. I squeeze my eyes shut.
Ow, ow, ow!

“You okay?”

“Brain freeze,” I gasp, my eyes watering.

I hear Magda's laugh and the pain slowly fades.

B
UT FEW
H
UMANS HEARD THE WORDS OF THE
O
CEAN—TO MOST IT WAS NOTHING MORE THAN THE CRASHING OF DISTANT WAVES, THE MURMUR OF A SLOW CREEK, THE MUTED STATIC OF RAINDROPS FALLING UPON WET EARTH
. O
NLY A FEW, KEEN OF EAR AND PURE OF SOUL, HEARD THE WORDS OF THE
O
CEAN
.

15
 

You don't believe any of this, do you?
Do you really think that I think the St. Andrew Valley water tower is the all-powerful, all-seeing ruler of all-that-is? Let me ask you something. Do you think every single person sitting in, say, your local church (or temple or mosque or coven or whatever the hell it is your parents drag you to) believes everything they hear? What about the guy who goes to church on Sunday but cheats on his taxes. That's a sin, right? If he truly believed in God, would he sin?

But that doesn't mean the tax cheat isn't religious. Religious is a whole different kettle of fish, as my grandmother would say.
I'm
religious. And I'm
serious
. Serious as a heart attack (Grandma again). Chutengodianism is important to me. But that doesn't mean I think that a big steel tank propped up on a few I-beams is omnipotent. I might be a religious zealot, but I'm not crazy.

So, you ask, how can Jason Bock be serious about a religion that worships a false god?

Are you kidding?

You ever watch a football game and get totally into it?
Why?
It's not a
real
battle. It's just a game somebody made up. So how can you take it seriously? Or, you ever see a movie that made your heart about jump out of your chest? Or one that made you cry?
Why?
It wasn't real. You ever look at a photo of food that made your mouth water?
Why?
You can't eat the picture.

Ah, you say, but the food that the picture shows
is
real. Is it really? Maybe that tasty-looking apple is made of wax. Maybe that loaf of bread is plastic. Maybe the football game is fixed. Maybe the movie is nothing but computer-generated pixels. So it's not as if the picture shows you reality. What you see is somebody's
idea
of reality.

Same thing with water towers and God. I don't have to be a believer to be serious about my religion.

Like any serious Kahuna, I want a well-organized and contented congregation, so I call an official meeting for noon on Tuesday the Sabbath. And like a lying politician, I tell everybody something different to get them there.

Dan is easy. I just tell him it's an official meeting: Be there. Dan was brought up to respect authority figures. I tell Magda that we are planning an ascent of the tower,
and I promise to buy Henry a Magnum Brainblaster. As for Shin, all I have to do is tell him that the Ten-legged One has ordered us to gather.

I do not expect things to go all that smoothly. Dan and Shin don't yet know that Henry Stagg is our High Priest. I'm not too worried about Dan, but Shin might freak out when he hears. I decide to treat Henry's induction into the church as a done deal, which it is, and not open it to discussion.

It's a brutally hot day; Wigglesworth's is crowded and noisy with people sucking down a variety of icy beverages. I find the First Keeper, the First Acolyte, and the High Priestess sitting in the big back booth. Magda is chatting away. She has Dan and Shin hypnotized; they're mooning at her like two dogs looking at a bag of treats. I slide in next to her.

“Where's the High Priest?” I ask.

“Haven't seen him,” Magda says.

Shin and Dan give me puzzled looks.

“I'm sure he'll be here soon,” I say.

Dan says, “What High Priest?”

“Henry.”

“Henry Stagg?”

I nod.

“Since when?” asks Shin.

“Since the day before yesterday.”

Nobody says anything.

I say, “He showed me how to climb the Ten-legged One. I had to make him High Priest.”

Shin is giving me a stricken look, but I won't meet his eyes.

I say, “He's not such a bad guy.”

Shin says, “He hates me.”

“No he doesn't.”

“He's
evil
,” says Shin.

Magda says, “Maybe if we were all nicer to him, he'd change.”

“I don't think you can change a guy like Henry,” Dan says.

“Well, I think he has potential,” says Magda.

I shrug. “Whatever—he's a Chutengodian now.”

“Speak of the devil,” Dan says in a low voice.

We all turn to see Henry approaching. He is wearing his usual jeans and boots, and a T-shirt from a rock band called Suicidal Tendencies. He stops a few feet away and looks us over suspiciously.

“This is it?” he says. “I thought you guys'd be dressed up in robes or something.”

“We're quite informal,” I say.

“Is this everybody? I thought there'd be more.”

“We're still seeking new members.”

“What about Mitch and Marsh?” Henry says. “I bet they'd join up. Bobby too.”

“Those guys?” Dan makes a sour face.

“I'm not sure they'd fit in,” I say.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Henry asks.

“They're morons,” Shin says. “In case you hadn't noticed.”

Henry turns on Shin, his face tight. For a moment I'm afraid he's going to go Neanderthal, and I tense up, ready to jump between them. But Henry freezes, then his knotted face loosens into a grin.

“Since when does being a moron disqualify a guy from worshipping a water tower?” he asks.

“When the church elders say so,” I say.

“Isn't that antimoron?”

“I'm afraid it is. Chutengodians discriminate against morons, terrorists, and intelligent fish.”

“Who are the church elders?”

“You're looking at them.”

Henry shrugs and slides into the booth next to Dan. “Whatever,” he says. “I just hope we don't get in trouble for fish discrimination.”

I'm surprised by how different Henry seems. This is not the sadistic, dangerous Henry who punched me in the face. It is not the serious, bookish Henry who talks about sci-fi novels. It is not the confident, tower-scaling Henry. This Henry is outnumbered, a little suspicious, and he wants us to like him.

Shin is still giving him a weird stare. Henry notices, but chooses to ignore it.

“Okay,” I say. “We're here today to talk about tonight's Midnight Mass…. What is it, Magda?”

“If it's at midnight, wouldn't it actually be
tomorrow's
Midnight Mass?” Magda is giving me an innocent, supposedly confused look. Because she is sitting next to me, her face is only about twelve inches from mine.

I say, “What I meant was, the Midnight Mass that is to take place at midnight during the period of darkness which will begin tonight and last until tomorrow morning.”

“That's what I thought,” she says, grinning.

“We're talking about tonight, though, right?” says Dan.

“Yes,” I say. “At midnight. The next midnight there is.”

“Tonight,” says Henry.

“That's right. The High Priestess was making a technical point.”

“We're going up tonight then,” says Henry. “All five of us.”

“That's right.”

Henry looks at Magda. “You going up too?”

Magda raises her eyebrows, making her big eyes even bigger. “You got a problem with that?”

“Not me. I just never met a girl that could climb.”

“You have now.”

“What about Schinner?” Henry says, looking at me. “He doesn't look like he could climb on a bus, let alone a water tower.”

Shin opens his mouth.

“We're all going up,” I say, intercepting whatever was about to come out of Shin's mouth.

Henry laughs. “Whatever you say, Your Holiness.”

“Please, I prefer to be addressed as ‘Your Kahunaness.'”

“Okay, Kahunaness. I'll be there at midnight.
Anybody wants to come up is welcome.”

“What are we going to do once we get up there?” Magda asks.

“Midnight Mass,” I say. “Henry, our High Priest, is going to lead us in worship of the Ten-legged One.”

“I am?”

“Sure. That's what High Priests do.”

“Not this High Priest.”

“It's really easy, Henry. You just talk. Like, ‘Blessed are the climbers: for theirs is the kingdom of water. Blessed are those who reek: for they shall be cleansed. Blessed are they who thirst: for they shall drink the water of life….' Like that.”