“So? Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to actually drink it?”
Tom looked down at his larger, sighed, and lifted the glass
to his lips.
“Atta boy,” his friend of fifteen years told him. Jack was his only friend, in fact.
“You’ve been spending way too much time at home, you
know. Hell, I hardly see you
anymore. And it’s not like you’re
working or anything.”
“Yeah…I know,” Tom replied meekly.
“So are you gonna tell me why you haven’t returned any of my
calls? Or do we need to get you liquored
up some more first?”
“It’s…like I said in the car. I’ve just been kinda…I don’t know. Not myself lately. Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been worried about you ya know. The least you could have done was drop me a
line or something.”
“What are you, my fucking wife?”
“Man, if you had a wife who looked half as good as me, then
I could forgive you for never leaving the house.”
“Funny,” Tom said, taking another sip. Jack chucked the rest of his beer, then
grabbed the pitcher to pour himself another mug.
“Seriously though, are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I
just haven’t been feeling well.”“Yeah, right. Come on Tom, I’ve known you almost your whole damn adult life. Stop insulting my intelligence and spill your guts already.”
Jack was always pushy like that. He meant well, but sometimes he could really
get under your skin. Tom often wondered
if it was that very tenacity that was the only thing that kept him around. Anyone else would have gotten sick of Tom a
long time ago – and in fact had. But
whenever Tom got into his depressing, reclusive moods, Jack was the only one
who just rode with it.
“Look, I honestly...don’t know. I’ve just been having one of those weeks, you
know? I guess I don’t really have a
reason for it.”
“Yeah, well, if there’s no reason for it, then you should
probably just quit your whining and drink your drink with me when I get my days
off. Right?”
“Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Sure, after I twisted your arm.”
The two men sat in silence for awhile, with Jack taking more
enthusiastic swigs from his mug.
Finally, he piped in again.
“So. You wanna talk
about it?”
Tom shrugged. “Like I
said, I don’t really know what to talk about.
I don’t know why I get like this.
It just…you know, happens.”
“Ever think about going to a doctor for it?”
“What good would that do me?
He’ll ask me to talk, then I’ll say the same damn things I say to him
that I say to you. He’ll say ‘So! Why do you think you feel this way?’ Then I’ll say ‘Gee doc, I really don’t
know. It just happens.’ Then he’ll ask me about my mother and father,
and when we still can’t figure out what’s wrong with me, he’ll give me some
pills that turn me into a zombie. So
yeah. No thanks.”
“I see,” Jack said while stroking his goatee. “Very interesting. And how does that make you feel?”
“Oh, shut up,” Tom sighed.“Heh. I could totally be a shrink, you know.”
“Yeah, right. I can
just see you offering ‘advice’ to underage teen girls telling them how they
should dump their thirty-year-old boyfriends while you stick your business card
down their bra.”
“Hey hey! Why all the
hostility? Besides, it’s not my fault
they were damaged. It’s kinda like when
you go food shopping and you get the dented cans, you know? Discounts man, discounts!”
“You’re a sick man, Jack.”
“To each his own, my friend,” he replied, lifting his glass
in toast, then downing the rest.
“What’s even sicker is sometimes I wish I could be more like
you.”
“Hey man, that’s just normal. Everyone
wants to be me.”
“At least if I had your delusions, I’d be happier.”
“Huh. Well if it’s
delusions you want Tommy boy, I can totally help you with that.”
“What do you mean?”
And with that, Jack was gone.
“What-…what the…HUH?!”
In a rasping voice that sounded somewhat like Jack’s, the
creature spoke after a small fit of laughter.
“Woa woa now, calm down there Tommy boy. Heh heh just calm right the fuck down. Ain’t gonna do you no good to get bent out of
shame just now. Besides, it’s not like
you’re gonna remember any of this anyway.”
“What the fuck is
going on?!” Tom demanded. A few
customers turned to look at him, but then returned to their patronage.
“Relax Tom, just relax.
It’s still me. It’s always been
me.”
Tom looked at the creature in disbelieve. “….J-…Jack?!”
“In the flesh!
Well…so to speak.”
“What the…how…”
“Look, just shut up for a bit, will you? God, your whining is so annoying
sometimes. You wanted to know why you
always feel like crap all the time, didn’t you?”
“I…”
“Yeah, well, I figured what the hell. I may as well tell you again. It’s been awhile since I had any real fun
with you anyway.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Of course you don’t, Tom.
You’re not supposed to. That’s part of how it goes. But we’ll get to that.”
“This…this can’t be happening.” He bolted up and rubbed his eyes fiercely.
“Will you sit the fuck down?
You’re making a scene here, and I don’t want to get yelled at by the
others for having a little fun.”
Dumfounded, and completely drained mentally, Tom slumped
back into his seat.
“Okay then. Where
were we? You wanted to know why you
always feel like crap, right? Why even
the most mundane things in your life never seem to go your way?”
“Um…uh…yeah…?”
“Well Tom, let me start by asking you a question. You’ve always tried to do the ‘right thing’,
right? Hell, you’re a regular
boyscout. Ain’t that right?”
“Um…I…guess?”
“Sure you are, sure.
You help old ladies cross the street, you don’t cheat on your taxes,
hell, you even go to church once in awhile,” the creature sneered.
“Well…yeah…I guess I do...”
“Okay then Tommy boy….all kidding aside, let me ask you a
really serious question.” The
Jack-creature looked him squarely in the eye.
Tom shuddered when he saw its eyes were a solid black. “What do you know about Hell?”
Tom gasped. “Are you
a demon?!”
“Give the man another drink for figuring out the
obvious. Of course I’m a demon, you
ninny. I thought the wings were a
freaking giveaway. But answer the question
already.”
Tom studdered.
“Um…uh…well…I was always taught that Hell is where you go to be punished
for doing bad things. Uh…that’s what
everyone’s taught, really. But…wait…why
are you…you know…’here’? And
not…’there’”?
The Jack-creature ignored his question. “Okay Tommy boy…let me ask you another
million-dollar question. Let’s say
someone did something wrong. Something really bad. What would the best way be to punish them?”
“Um…send them to Hell?”
The Jack-creature sighed.
“Of course send them to Hell,
you idiot. What I’m asking is, how would they be punished in Hell?”
“Uh…well…everyone usually says it’s all about fire and
torture and stuff.”
Jack-creature grinned at that. “That’s where you’re dead-wrong, Tommy
boy. And now…we get to the fun part.”
The creature held out his hand, and in his palm, appeared
what looked like a small action figure.
It stood in silent demand of further explanation.
“I’m gonna show you this little guy as an example. We’ll call this one Little Ricky. Now then.
Ricky here is an axe murderer. He
raped and killed…oh, I don’t know. Let’s
say one hundred children and fifty small puppies.” At that, the face on the action figure turned
into an evil grin. Blood dripped from
the palm of Jack-creature’s hand and trickled onto the table.
“Now. The best way to
punish someone like this isn’t with eternal hellfire and all that
nonsense. No, see, guys like this thrive on pain. That’s just no good. Not much of a punishment if they’re twisted
enough to get off on it. So! What we do is…this!”
Suddenly, Little Ricky transformed into a small doll of a
nun.
“Um…are you saying that nuns are actually axe
murderers? Er…rehabilitated, I mean,” he
quickly corrected.
“No you idiot. You’re
not getting it. See, everyone has their
own separate hell. You follow me so
far?”
“O…kay?”
“Like I said, the best way to punish someone isn’t with
fire. What you do is, you wipe their memory
completely. Think about it! They would never even know that they’re in Hell!
Then…oh! Here’s the best
part!” Jack-creature began to laugh
uncontrollably. “Oho, it’s so rich. Then!
You make them think…are you ready?
You make them think they’re……a good
person!” He began screeching with
laughter, pounding his hand on the table.
The nun-doll shattered in his palm as he struck, emitting a
blood-curdling shriek of agony.
Tom was a bit slow on the uptake. He was too distracted by the screaming nun-doll.
“Come on Tommy, keep up with me here! Don’t you see? Part of the punishment of being in Hell is
not even knowing that you’re already there!
What better way to punish someone than to turn them into someone who is
constantly punishing themselves, convinced
that they actually still have a shot of getting into Heaven? They try so damn hard to be ‘good’, when it’s
already too late! It’s pure genius!
Only the Master Himself could have designed it!”
The demon continued.
“As the fool tries his whole ‘life’ to be all good and proper, we keep
sending more shit his way. The better a
person he tries to be, the more we knock him around. And because they’re constantly programmed - by
us - to do ‘good’, they keep coming back for more. Finally, they snap, go crazy, maybe kill
themselves. Then we start the whole
thing all over again! Now THAT is
eternal damnation, my friend!”
Tom’s mouth was open as the reality slowly dawned on him.
“You wanted to know why things are always turning to shit on
you, Tommy boy? Well, that’s an easy
one! We
turned you into ‘Tom.’ Before you
came to us…your name was ‘Rick.’ Is your
memory starting to come back to you yet Little Ricky? No? Of
course not. It wouldn’t be much of a
punishment if it did, now would it?” The
demon cackled.
Tom bolted out of his chair, screaming. “Shut up!
Shut the fuck up! You lying piece
of shit! I’m a good person! I’m good!
I’m good!” He strangled the
demon, and the other patrons looked over in alarm. Even as some of the more burley customers ran
to him trying to pry his hands loose, Tom refused to let go. Finally, he heard a loud snap, as the demon gurgled its last breath. They pulled him off, but the creature was
dead.
Tom looked around at the customers who held him tightly,
looking at him with disgust and disbelieve.
“I’m a good person,” he ranted.
“I’m a good person.”
Then, he looked across the table, and saw the lifeless body of
Jack – his only friend.
“I’m a good person…” he sobbed.
Michael F. Mercurio
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