Excerpt From "Heritage Heretics"
Where was he?
He had a premonition where he was but he didn’t want to entertain that notion. Then as a verification of his worst fears, out of the flames came a most grotesque figure with a hideous smile that showed blackened teeth. It was no doubt a demon yet Kori felt that the figure was familiar despite the distortion. Maybe it was the glasses that made it appear familiar?
The demon came up to him. It was only then that Kori noticed the pair of dice jiggling constantly in one of the long, heavily clawed hands of the monster. The demon’s other paw was tucked into a pair of black shorts with twin orange stripes that was wrapped around its flanks.
“Who are you?” Kori demanded. The simple act of opening his mouth made his tongue feel like bubbling lava.
The demon grinned. He was so close now that Kori could smell his breath. Cola and spaghetti – the demon smelled of cola and spaghetti. “You know who I am!” The demon’s voice was deep.
For an instant the name of the demon was on the tip of Kori’s igneous tongue. But before he could unravel it, the demon was gone, the fires were gone and the pain was gone.
He was back in the rowboat. The skies were dusking and up there in the sky was a nameless Olympian god. The goober was now dangling from his chin like an ooze of frog eggs dangling from a bull reed.
“I HOPE THAT YOU ENJOYED YOUR LITTLE TOUR OF MY DUNGEON!” the god said snidely.
Before Kori could reply, the abstract figure went on. “YOU HAVE SOMETHING OF MINE AND I WANT IT BACK!”
Kori was miffed. He didn’t know what in Hell this god was talking about.
“AH, C’MON! DON’T PLAY GAMES WITH ME! I’M NOT AMUSED BY SUCH TRIVIAL EXCITEMENTS. I WANT IT BACK! I WANT MY STONEY LAKE SPATULA BACK!”
“What in heaven are you talking about?” Kori snapped. “Stoney Lake Spatula? Maybe you can buy a new one at the grocery store? They usually have plenty in stock!”
“GROCERY STORES DON’T SELL STONEY LAKE SPATULAS. THERE’S ONLY ONE IN ALL OF CREATION. AND IT’S MINE AND I WANT IT BACK!”
“Well, your deityship, I don’t have it!” Kori answered.
“DO YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO MY DUNGEON FOR THE REST OF ETERNITY?”
“I don’t know. It seems to me that I’ve spent a lot of time there already. I don’t mind it. Tell me, I didn’t get to see it all. Are there newspapers spread all over the place?”
“YES.”
“And are there cats that do nothing but shit all day and stink the place out?”
“YES.”
“And is the chief resident an expert at sound effects but still not a master of the English language?”
“YES. HOW DO YOU KNOW THESE THINGS? YOU HAVE NEVER DIED AND NO MATTER WHAT SOME SAY, REINCARNATION IS IMPOSSIBLE.”
“Well, maybe that’s proof that you are all washed up, my friend. I’ve been there lots of times. I enjoy it there. I keep on going back.”
The god replied in a disgruntled manner, “THEN YOU ARE MAD!”
“Am I?” Kori wasn’t scared of this god. “Would you call Tad Resolve mad?”
“TAD’S A GENIUS! HE STOOD IN LINE FOR BRAINS SIX TIMES!” the god replied. “I THINK HE THOUGHT IT WAS THE LINE FOR SUPERIOR GOLF SKILLS. HE NEVER DID FIND THAT LINE.”
This got Kori chuckling too. “He’s got all the smarts and he’s got the ability but he just can’t bring it home. Tell me why do you think that I stole your spatula?”
“BECAUSE YOU WERE ON THE DORAL.”
“Yeah but we were on Balsalm when I met you. When would I have had the chance to steal your spatula there?”
“NOT THEN BUDDY BUT BEFORE.”
“When?”
“WHEN YOU PULLED OFF THE SECRET POWER SQUADRON MANOEVER AT FENELON FALLS TO GET YOUR BOAT DOCKED.”
Kori recalled the hyperspatial navigations of the Captain at that lock. That was when he had his encounter with Spinning. Bad memories.
“IT WAS THEN,” the deity said. “WHEN YOU BROUGHT YOUR BOAT INTO MY KINGDOM, INTO MY VERY CHAMBER, AND THAT IS WHEN YOU PILFERED MY MOST PRIZED POSSESSION.”
“The Stoney Lake Spatula?”
“YES! THE STONEY LAKE SPATULA! YOU STOLE IT OUT FROM UNDER MY VERY NOSE! I WANT IT BACK!” The god was becoming very petulant. The goober had dribbled off his chin and was making like a lethargic amoeba down the deity’s Herculean chest.
Kori, himself, was feeling petulant. He was standing wrongly accused before the one that was supposed to know it all. If there was any kernel of truth in the accusations, it was that someone on board the Doral stole the spatula. And Kori firmly believed that it had to be Bridgeman. Why else would he hide? The wild man would not own up to spitting in the deity's face. He would never own up to stealing the god’s property. The photographer was now in a dilemma. He was a man of principle. He didn’t rat on anybody, not even lowlife scum suckers like Luke Bridgeman. But to take the rap would mean eternal damnation at the very least. It would mean rolling out dice football and baseball until Hell froze over. And then it would be dice hockey. When would he get a chance to sleep? When would his head ever know the simple gratification of lolling on eighteen pillows? Sleep was important – very important to Korihart Salming. As a child he was told that he was the heir apparent to the Mayor of Dreamland. If he couldn’t sleep he could never rightfully assume the offices of this auspicious title. Besides without sleep he would forever have a head that felt and looked like a mushy potato.
It was for this reason and this reason alone that Kori said to the god, “I didn’t take your spatula but I have a strong suspicion who the culprit is.”
“TELL ME. TELL ME AND YOU WILL SIT AT MY RIGHT SIDE IN THE INFINITE KINGDOM!”
“God, that sounds boring!” Kori muttered. He could imagine sitting next to this deity with nothing to do but watch his fingernails grow.
“LOOK!” the god snapped. “IT MIGHT NOT BE THE MOST EXCITING THING TO SPEND THE REST OF ETERNITY DOING BUT AT LEAST YOU GET A CHANCE TO LAUGH. I GUARANTEE YOU THAT EVERY NIGHT WE’LL HAVE ROUSING SINGALONGS DOESN’T THAT JUST MAKE YOU ITCH TO DIE NOW AND JOIN IN?”
It made Kori want to live forever. If the only prospects in the afterlife were dice games and hymn singing, he preferred to stay just where he was, thank you. And he told the deity so.
The god’s face went into a pout. His feelings were bruised. At length, after much studied thought, the diety said, “THEN I PROMISE YOU THAT YOU’LL NEVER GROW OLD AND THAT YOU’LL NEVER DIE IF YOU JUST TELL ME WHO STOLE MY SPATULA.”
“Charlatan!” a voice screeched. A moment later the brackish head of Luke Bridgeman appeared from the water. “Don’t believe him Kori! He can’t promise you a damned thing!”
“Bridgeman! Where did you come from?” Kori felt relief at seeing the beer drinker.
“Never mind that,” Luke said, climbing into the boat. “He’s not what he wants you and the rest of the world to believe he is. He’s not the exemplar of all that is good. He’s just an insecure manifestation of guilt. He’s a self-serving neurotic that needs adulation from people that have no reason at all to be thankful for him. He’s nothing but a pack of lies that is so afraid of the truth that he calls himself the truth. His very existence is a lie. What you’re looking at Salming is not even there because he doesn’t exist. Just tell him to go away and he’ll be gone.”
“VERMIN!” the god in the sky cried. “FILTHY BLOODY VERMIN! I WILL TEACH YOU TO SPEAK SACRILEGE IN MY PRESENCE!” A lightning bolt formed in the deity's hand. Holding it like a spear, he called Bridgeman a host of ungodly names.
Bridgeman smiled at the maker and said simply, “Bugger off!”
This riled the deity so much that he let loose his electric dagger.
“Go away!” Kori yelled.
The god and his cloud dissipated at once. The lightning bolt was transmuted into an amorphous ball of mucous that splattered into Bridgeman’s face. It was the one and same goober that the shaggy man had spit in the air minutes before.
“There’s no wind at all,” Luke said.
“Geez,” Kori sighed. “You really take on powerful enemies.”
“What do you mean?” Bridgeman answered, wiping the slime from his forehead with his forearm.
“Ah c’mon! Challenging a god is a bit out of your league, don’t you think?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re lucky that he didn’t wipe you off the face of the Earth for what you called him!”
“I think you’re crazy. I didn’t call anybody anything.”
Kori looked at him with astonishment. “You called that god a pack of lies! You’re lucky to be alive!”
It was then that Kori noticed that Bridgeman was completely dry. He should have been soaking wet after emerging from the water.
Had he imagined the whole incident?
“Why don’t you get back to rowing? The Captain might be half way across Simcoe by now.”
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