Good man

  For all my life as a grim reaper, I seek for souls and toss them to either heaven or hell. It is truly a tough job. I have been to various places and met various religions, none of them really interested me or left me with any deep impression. However, there was this one particular place that I have been wondering inside recently that seemed to sear my insides. It is impossible for me to forgot this story. I know I shouldn’t really lose focus in my work of this repeatedly, tedious, soul collecting, soul judgement and soul tossing cycle. I know that God may deduct my wages for getting in touch with the living, with flesh and blood, but still… I truly don’t know what to say, can’t help myself, but just hear me out, okay?

Beside a small village there was a magnificent church that was clothed with ivory and gold. The whole church was decorated with expensive elm wood and the window panes were all covered with gold. Facing toward the poor little village , the church was truly a magnificent sight that many believers and tourists visited. Even I, myself, was utterly impressed by this glorious sight at first glance. While it can’t compare with my own abode, I have to admit that this church was truly magnificent humanly speaking. However, I still wonder, even right now, why whoever that built this place focused so much on the church while leaving the village beside it as poor as ever. Well, this may be how humans treat themselves, continually improving their façade while at the very same time, leaving others to perish. Back to the story. There was an elm tree of wide circumference rooted beside the left windowpane of this glorious church. Up upon the windowpane, hung an elegant crucifix that was painstakingly carved and it was clearly made with expensive red wood. There was only one thing suspicious about this significant church. Although it can be described as exquisite, delicate, eye catching on the outside, in the inside, it was rusty, shabby and gave me an impression of a no-good one-star hotel. Well, maybe even worse than a no-good one-star hotel. That’s the thing that I just couldn’t understand. The benches were all crackled and ancient. Whenever people sat on it, the bench began to scream, shiver and waggle immediately, like it was going to collapse into various pieces at any-time. Above the pulpit, there was a painting of Jesus being crucified on Friday the 13^th nailed to the worn-out wall. I bet my boss will be furious when he really gets a small peek inside the church. I remember last time that my boss paid this place a visit, he was deeply impressed by the church’s outfit. He had also done loads of talking of how the people inside the village honor him both externally and internally. Well, I certainly won’t be the one to tell him, because it will mean disasters and deaths of innocent mortals, and hundreds of souls for me to chase down.

Talking about this village, I must note one aficionado that I have no desire to recall. He was an extremist, on both sides. Honoring the Bible and dishonoring it at the very same time. Well, he was truly a believer of God, but at the same time, he was also a loan shark and also the chief culprit of many broken families. I was surprised, extremely surprised, but I was also interested in him. I had met many souls that were either good or bad, but this man, he was an exception. So, I gave myself some slack to stalk this man. I can make myself invisible to the living at any-time; when I am not, I am just a weird man in a long black cloak in other people’s eyes.

This believer of ours is close to 35, of a robust constitution. His face reminded me of a donkey that had its ears cut. This crazy man went to the resplendent church every-day for at least 2 hours, sitting on the rusty seats inside the church and listening to the young priest unscrambling the Bible beside the shabby and ragged pulpit, carrying his flyers and Bible with him everywhere he went. He prayed for at least 5 minutes, leaving a long line of other believers waiting in wrath behind. I followed him around for nearly a week; he kept to his schedule unerringly.

“Good man, you are a true believer, you will make it to heaven, I am sure.” One day, the priest said to him with a huge smile and turned away uneasily from the long line of people waiting with wrath for their turn to pray. I shuddered a bit when I saw the other believers’ fercious and vexed expressions. But, the man took no notice because he was utterly pleased when he heard the priest’s words. But, what he and the priest didn’t know was that I passed judgement on dead souls. In my book, he still had ways to go considering his activities as a loan shark, which fell under the sin of “voracity” in the Seven Deadly Sins code that my boss created.

 Well, the man ended up naming his son Enoch who was also a believer of God who ended up in heaven and naming his daughter Maria, who was Jesus’s mother.

 “Please, father, I believe in God, and I believe, as long as you touch them, they will be blessed and taken to heaven by the warm hand of our father.” The man pleaded while I was standing, totally invisible, behind him. I shook my head – this touching business was a myth. No pat from a priest, or even the Pope, ensure a place in heaven. I didn't know how humans came up with the idea, but for me, I couldn't see any connection between a pat and a place in heaven.

 “Very well, ”the priest smiled and agreed, “Lead me to them, my son, and your off-spring will be blessed by the generosity and love of God.”

When Enoch and Maria knew that they were blessed by the holy priest, they reacted not with excitement, but only with calmness. For they, I think, are only common and rational believers of God, which was nothing like their outrageous father. I felt sympathy for them. Living is hard, but it must be even harder when ending up with this crazy father by their side.

  “Dad, I got a problem here, can you come help me for a sec?” No, no, your dad is too busy reading the Bible, for the sixth time in a day.

“No, Enoch. I am nothing but a sin existing in this world that was created by God’s hand. Go, I am reading the holy Bible. If you really believe, go and pray with a true heart to our holy father high above. Your wish will be granted and you will be blessed.” Yeah, I truly doubt that, praying to a trillion years-old man that won’t even give me a raise on my wages.

“Dad, no time for jokes, I have already prayed before. But, dad, with no offense, I don’t think that God will help us with our math homework.” Looks like young Enoch knows better than his father.

  “Enoch. You know why you are called Enoch?” Here he goes again.

“Why, dad?” It was the third time that his dad had asked this very particular question to him in a single day.

“In the holy Bible that I have the honor to read, Enoch was a boy that strongly relied on God’s will and power. And he eventually lived in God’s glory and love, in paradise. I hope, that you and Maria will really devote yourself to the will of God without any doubt and suspicion. God loves our prayers and God loves true believers.” To be honest, God was sometimes driven nearly insane by receiving prayers. Because it was like, umm, that E-mail thing that humans used in the mortal world. Just imagine receiving trillions of E-mails per-day; it would probably drive anyone insane, including God himself.

 “Come on, dad? You sure that you are not being overly dramatic?”

“Enough, just go.”

“Well, I will leave you with this,” Enoch said, waggling his finger at his dad, “ belief…”

Enoch sighed and went out, slamming the door. I followed him as he walked toward Maria, who was standing outside her bedroom door.

“Well?”

“Not working, Maria, not working at all. Our dad’s crazy.” He sure is.

“Yes, he sure is.”

“What can we do.” What will you guys do?

“What do you mean what can we do?” What do you mean what can you do?

“I mean, come on, Maria. You know our dad. I know him no better than you do. He is totally out of his mind.”

“Of course I do, but do you think that you can stop him?” Nope, I don’t think so.

“I don’t know.”

“Then leave him alone.”

“But, Maria, this madness has to stop.” I can’t agree more.

“So why the hell are you talking to me here? Talk to this crazy old guy inside. I have done enough.” As far as I saw, it was Enoch who had done all the talking.

“But it is I who always do the talking.”

“So? You read the Bible don’t you? It said that man should be responsible and shall not deny dilemmas?”

 “God damn it!”

“So? Go in then!”

“What? You think I am crazy or something?”

 “Then what will you do?”

“ I will hide his Bibles.” What?

“What?”

“Maybe he will feel that God has abandoned him or something and lower his faith in God.” What kind of solution is that?

“You are crazy, Enoch. I asked you to stop our father from all of this crazy shit, not to murder him.”

  “This is not murder.”

“To the old guy inside, it is.”

“Better than psychological torture for us.”

“Yeah, right.” Looks like there will be one more soul for me to collect.

It turns out that Enoch did hide it successfully from his father by begging me to accept the piles of different Bible versions as a gift when I made myself visible again. He had found me wondering off in the street, waiting for the man to die so I could pick up his soul as fast as I could. But, here comes trouble. I wanted to refuse, but Enoch kept on insisting that I needed to help them or they would soon die in agony. Just to make things clear, although I am one of God’s workman, I take no fondness in collecting different versions of Bibles from that crazy man. However, I still had sympathy toward unfortunate Enoch and Maria. I didn’t want them to die in such an insufferable place, so I nodded and agreed to kept his secret. Yes, you have to believe me – while I do collect souls, it doesn’t mean that I enjoy seeing people die or enjoy throwing them into hell. People have misjudged me for billions of years. I’m not a sadist but just a humble workman who collects dead souls for my boss in return for a meager salary that barely sustains me. 

When the man found that all of his Bibles were stolen, he nearly burst into tears. And that was not all, the worse part was when Maria told his father dramatically that she had seen a skeletal man with a black cloak come and take away all of his holy Bibles, their poor father nearly fainted in sorrow. “A Skeletal man with a black cloak?” Is this how humans viewed me? Looks like I really need to clear my name if I have the chance.

 The crazy man ran into the church, which had become much more magnificent after the charity activity that encourage people to devote money to support the poor and the orphans. I sighed and followed him, totally invisible, starting to regret the fact that I took all his Bibles.

  “Father, please, tell me what to do!”

“What? Son, you look desperate.” Of course, I just took all his precious Bibles.

“Indeed, father, pray for me! Please!” No, priests’ praying will do you no good.

“Why, son? There is no need of you being blessed.” Ha! That’s the funniest joke I ever heard.

“wha…What? Why?”

“God saw everything, my son. God saw everything. Every sin, every benevolence, every faith and belief in people. God will judge you, my son.”

“No, father, please!”

“I am dearly sorry, my son. The only thing that you need to do is to believe in God. ”

The man returned to his house with a heavy heart. He fell down on his bed and burst out into tears. Enoch and Maria were standing outside the door, listening nervously.

“Maria, what have you done?”

“How do I know?”

“Well?”

“God damn it, I said that I don’t know! What have you done?”

“Just as I said, I hid his Bibles.”

“Well, that’s the reason.”

“No, no, Maria. He wouldn’t be like this if it was only that his Bibles were stolen.”

 “Well, so what is it?”

“Did you say anything to him after I took his Bibles?”

“Yes, of course!”

“What did you say?”

“Wait, I said that this, skeletal man with a black cloak came and took his precious collection of Bibles away.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“You killed him.”

I first thought that the man really was dead when Enoch said “You killed him.” But it turned out that he was still perfectly alive, with flesh and blood. This was where I first learned that people like to speak “metaphorically” rather than directly. Enoch never asked me to return the Bibles that I took, so I guess that all I need to do is to leave this pile of Bibles anywhere I like. I don’t know what happen to the man or his children as they are all still very much alive. But I know one thing, humans are just, extremely interesting, aren’t they?