Puck

There are a few deities that are quite well known.

That is, if you believe in them. Some don’t. But many do.

Jesus, Muhammad, Shiva, and Buddha, for example. They’re so famous that they’re mythical, divine. The ones who’ve caught a glimpse of them, or of their doings, are counted as the fortunate, though some suffered terribly for having seen them. Most people know of them through the texts, teachings, and hearsay.

There are an uncountable number of unknown deities. Druids, nymphs, fairies, door gods, family gods, minor saints, house gods, and mountain spirits, to name a few. Some go so far as to say that, for every human that has ever lived, there is a god. Some go further and say there are more.

Then there are those deities who are not so powerful but have nevertheless won renown. One such godling is the All Fools’ Day Godling. Every year on All Fools’ Day, he plays pranks on the unaware. He once fooled the entire world into thinking it was April 2 rather than April 1, except for every state leader, who knew it was April 1. There were news stories for days after on the subject, and it was months before it was definitely determined to have been the act of some God. Other tricks attributed to him on that day were:

• Hitler’s pants falling down at his trial in 1924
• The BBC mistakenly broadcasting that spaghetti could be grown on trees (the source for the scoop was never found, incidentally)
• Every astronomer forgetting to record the Hale-Bopp comet at perihelion (no one knows how the trickster did it, just that he must have done it)
• The 1994 Executive Order to prohibit drinking while surfing, which was revoked the next day

In addition to that, many people, especially ones prone to carelessness and daydreaming, reported unexplainable events that occurred, either to them or near them, that were undeniably prank-like in nature. Many people don’t take precautions. Many do, especially public figures, who don’t want the trickster to make them slip onstage and tear their skirt down the middle right before giving an important speech. Yes, that happened to someone I knew.

“Wakey wakey”, my mom sang. “Ah yes, and it’s All Fools’ Day! If you aren’t careful, the trickster might getcha”

“Mom”, I groaned. “None of it’s real and I hate All Fools’ Day. Why does anyone care, anyway? It’s just an excuse for people to bully each other and say ‘just kidding, take a joke’”.

“Travis!”, my mom chided. “It’s really in good spirit!”

“Was it in good spirit that Diane told you that she was having an affair with Dad?”

I snapped my mouth shut, but it was too late. I felt my mom’s mood sour like curdled milk. She straightened her shoulders, huffed, and stomped down the stairs. Now I felt anxious and guilty. Just my luck on All Fools’ Day. I put my wooden four-leaf-clover charm in my pocket. I didn’t believe in all the nonsense, but it couldn’t hurt… just in case.

I went through the day without suffering anything remotely close to a prank. I didn’t slip. I didn’t trip. I didn’t get the date wrong. I went to all the right classes. Nothing broke or fell or even wobbled suspiciously. When I got home, I fished the charm out of my pocket and slapped it on the countertop. I walked around. I said, “Heeey, I’m a gullible twerp. Come prank me!”. Nothing happened. I walked up the stairs and to my room and laid on my bed. Nothing. I was just starting to relax when I heard a sound.

I whirled around. A boy around my age with hair and eyes as black as a raven’s and ears pointy like an elf’s had one leg on my windowsill and the other reaching towards the floor. The expression on his face told me that I’d caught him red-handed.

“So you are real”, I said, a strange excitement pulsing through me. The boy snorted.

“Of course I’m real! Haven’t you heard the news? Or do you live under a log?”

“It’s live under a rock now. Get with the times”

“Yeah yeah, same difference”

We stared at each other for a moment.

“Well”, the boy said, “if you do me a favor, I’ll do you one. No pranks on you for ten years if you don’t tell anyone you saw me”

“Wait!”, I said. The boy looked back.

“What’s your name?”

He thought for a moment.

“Well”, he waffled. “I go by many names. I suppose you can call me Puck”.

“Like in hockey?”

“What’s hockey?”

“Never mind”

Silence. Puck had abandoned his escape and was now sitting, knees pulled to his chest, right under my windowsill.

“Well. Um”, I managed. Puck stared at me, unimpressed.

“Who are you?”, I asked finally.

“I just told you, didn’t I?”, he said, smiling faintly.

“Yes, but what’s your story? Aren’t all you gods like three thousand years old?”

Puck sighed.

“Oh, my story’s not all that interesting. I’m just a little godling. I’m not like those gods and heroes in your little novels. Nope. Not me. I just like playing tricks here and there”

I stared at him.

“It’ll bore you to death”, he said.

“I still wanna hear it”, I said. “It’s not like I’ve ever gotten the chance to interview any other gods in my life”

He sighed again.

“Like so many deities, I began life as a mortal. I was born… well, it doesn’t matter where or when, and I can hardly remember anyway. It was a village, as all human settlements were then. Supposedly, I was born in the wilderness. I had a club foot, and my birth parents laid me out to die. I was fortunate to be found and rescued from death by my mother, Maighread. She was a nurse in the service of a lord in the land and was thus able to support me. Everyone loved Maighread for her kindness, and she cared deeply for me, though I always strove to get out from under her hands. Ever since I can remember, I have been playing tricks. They began small and obvious, but I became practiced at mischief. Everyone hated me. There was not a one among them whose hair I hadn’t pulled, whose things I hadn’t stolen, or to whom I had not told malicious falsehoods. Only Maighread could tolerate me. Only she grew to love me. I loved her, too. My favorite thing to do was to help churn the butter while she made bread. The smell of yeast and sweet cream, the lyrical sound of her old voice singing, the feeling of the churning stick under my hands, were my best memories. My dearest wish would be that I could be with her now, to tell her that I love her. But I never did.

When she was old, however, a plague swept through the land. Half of each family lay sick and dying and the other half nursing them. Boils and scars disfigured both the living and the dead. Corpses lay in the street. Maighread, sweet, dear Maighread, was accused of being a sorceress. She was brought before the lord, whom she had served faithfully for thirty years, whose wife she had saved three times in childbirth, whose children she had half-raised, and the lord did nothing to help her. As a sorceress was treated in those days, she was tied to a stone and thrown into a pool of water, where she drowned. I defended her with all my might and tried mightily to cut her from the stone, to no avail. The mob, seeing this, flew into a frenzy, and they lashed and stabbed and beat me until I collapsed to the ground. They left me there, where I lay until my death”

That took a dark turn real quick, I thought.

“I was pretty vengeful for a while; maybe the next couple of centuries. I made the lives of every one of the people who beat me to death and their families miserable. I made sure they were cursed. I made sure they regretted it. Soon, though, I grew tired of that. Anger makes you tired, you know, and at some point, you just gotta stop. Anyway, I got back to my old ways. Playing pranks. Helping good people. Making mischief for not-so-good people. I’ve been doing that for the last thousand years or so. It’s fun. You humans are just so strange. It never gets old with you”.

He smiled ruefully. A soft gust of wind ruffled his hair. The light of the sun, which had been blocked by the clouds, reemerged, and the rays created a halo around him.

“I really must be going now. Holika awaits me, and her temper is not one you want to provoke. I appreciate your listening to me…”

“Travis”, I supplied.

“Travis”, he said. “Did you know your name means ‘to cross’”?

“Um. No”, I said.

“Well it does”, he said. “Farewell, Travis. And thank you”.

And he was gone.

“Bye”, I said to the open air.

A door slammed. My mom was home. I ran down the stairs. Her face was strained and exhausted, and bits of silly string clung to her hair.

“What happened?”, I asked.

“What do you think?”, she muttered. She glanced at me and her shoulders slumped. She looked so small. I wanted to reach out and hug her.

“Jeannette gave me a little present that turned out to be a silly string bomb”, she said. “At least it wasn’t allegations of adultery this time”.

She smiled wanly. I smiled back.

“Mom”, I said after a long silence. She looked up, calf-brown eyes bright and hopeful.

“I’m sorry about this morning”, I said. “I know I haven’t been great to you lately and today…, well, today I was extra nasty to you. I’m sorry. I want you to know that… I love you Mom”.

I saw my mom’s eyes grow wet with tears, and she tilted her head slightly, putting her hand on mine.

“Oh, honey. I love you too. I’m so proud of you. Your dad would be, too. You’ve always been our dearest treasure. That’s why it hurts when you push us away”

We hugged. I did not get misty-eyed. I did not!

Of course, nothing from Puck comes without a bit of mischief. A few weeks after, one of my friends sent me a message.

Today 8:38 AM

Me

One Attachment

Today 4:20 PM

Gabe

Hey dude, you ok?

I got this recording from someone

Who were you talking to?

Me

Of course he did.

Gabe

Who did what?

Me

I was talking to the All Fools’ God

Gabe

That’s impossible!

The recording is from today

No way it was some confusion, man

Me

So he thought of that, too.

Did you think that he might’ve waited to send you that recording from my phone?

Gabe

Are you sure you’re ok?

I’m sending this to your mom

Me

DO NOT SEND IT TO MY MOM!

AND HOW DO YOU HAVE MY MOM’S NUMBER?

Gabe

RELAX, MAN!

I’m getting it from my mom.

I’m not telling her about your… condition

Besides… I already sent it. Sorry :grimace:

Me

Of course you did

:disappointed:

I clicked off my phone and looked up at the sky. I rolled my eyes, then smiled.

Looks like he got me after all.