The Artist

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Bernard. I haven’t been around much lately, mostly because my wife just wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. I’ve locked her in the closet for now though, so we can be alone. I’ve tried to be good, God, really I have. It’s just that everyone keeps getting in my way. They don’t know me, my God, they really don't.  They think they do, because that’s what I've wanted them to think. I’ve wanted to get out ahead of them, so when I strike they’ll never believe it was me. I spent years on this, God, you know I have. You’ve seen. When it’s been just you and me in this little ol head of time. Do you mind if I smoke, God. I’m sure you don’t know. How could the Lord have a problem with smoking? It feels divine anyway, though I know a lot of people hate the smell of cigarettes. I love it. I need a woman who can put up with it or even smoke too, hell why not, if we’re dreaming about trading in the old bag I’ve got shut up in the closet. You can see her in there, can’t you? I can only hear her. Good, she’s quieter now. That incessant whining was getting on my nerves. She’s not half bad, Desirae. She just yammers on nonstop day and night when I’m just trying to watch tv or work on my art. 

She never understood about my art. I can’t help it if death inspires me. That I want to construct new things from bones, that I’m inspired to find the beauty in putting them together in new ways like a grisly Lego set. They speak to me, the bones do. They tell me where they want to go. She couldn’t see why I want to kill the animals with my own hands and boil the carcasses down to extract the bones myself instead of buying the skeletons online. They have outrageous prices you know, but it wasn't just that, I wanted to do it myself. Watching an animal that I’d killed dissolve into soup in front of my eyes, the cartilage slackening, the muscle evaporating, the eyes going blank, the snouts disintegrating. She never understood how satisfying that was for me. She thought it was disgusting and wanted no part of it. Always got made when I used her pots to do it in even though I washed them after. You know how I started with mice, just ones we caught in the house. Then I caught opossums, raccoons, the occasional rat. I always used live traps so I could kill them myself. I didn’t want poison or a snap to do them in. I wanted to have that honor. And an honor it was, especially the time I caught our neighbor’s calico cat Snickers. I had to get the beagle at the pound, though. They just thought I was a kindly soul to adopt the worst, ugliest dog they had, one that was probably going to be put down anyway. I was so excited to break that dog’s neck. It was like Christmas morning as a kid, I could barely wait till I got home to do it. Desirae got pretty amped up over that one.

She’s gone quiet now. Wonder what she’s thinking. After 30 years I can still surprise her. She definitely didn’t see it coming when I whacked her on the side of the head with the rolling pin. She watched me go to the cupboard, rummage around and come up with that pin. She watched me hefting it in my hands, smacking it against the heel of my hand, testing its weight. She didn’t stop talking until the point of impact when she gave a little sigh then dropped like a sack of flour onto the kitchen floor. She was blissfully silent the whole time I dragged her by the slippered feet to the closet and tied her up in there. I put in a gag but she has been able to make a good bit of ruckus in there. I’d best go check on her, but I’ll be back? Ok God, talk to you later.”

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“Hi God, it’s me Bernard again. I checked on Desirae and told her I’d let her out soon. A lie as you know. Or probably, depending on you I suppose. So I just wondered if you had time to think about my offer. I’m totally willing to let her out of the closet, no questions asked, but I’m going to need something from you in return. I need you to give me another human body that I can render down and get the skeleton. That’s all I ask. If there is some way to find one, maybe a dead one that no one’s using any more. Just let me know. You know my plan, God. You can see it in my head. Doesn’t it look cool? I think it’ll be my masterwork, the one I’m known for long after I’m gone. All I need is one simple, single human body to work with and this is the easiest way I know of getting one. 

I see you’re staying silent on this matter, so I can only guess at your mind. I suppose your mind isn’t the same as mine. But you appear to help those in need if they ask hard enough, which I think I’ve done. You can’t fault me when you don't speak up and tell me what I should do, where I can get a body. Ok God. You’ve made your point. I can only hope that you appreciate my art when it’s finished. I can’t wait to see how her bones fit together. I know she will become transcendent, more beautiful in death than she ever was in life. Only you and I will ever see it though, a pity since I would love to show it off. That will have to wait until I die or until I’m caught. Always a possibility, but I will have to trust you to keep me safe.

Well, it was nice talking to you God. I hope to hear from you soon. Keep checking on me to see my progress. In the meantime, I’ll go take care of Desirae. We’re going to make something wonderful together.