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Shorts
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| The Survey | |
| By Snodlander | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 19 March 2007 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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I think this is a tad too long for what it is. I thought of the start, but when I started to write, it grew. “Hello” Dan looked up in surprise. There was no-one there. He stared, puzzled. Jake, his mongrel, stared back. “Hello,” repeated Jake. Dan stared at the dog for a few long seconds. Then a worldly-wise grin spread across his features. “OK, you got me. Very funny. Where’re the speakers?” “I’m the speaker, Dan,” said Jake. Dan was impressed. They had managed to get Jake to move his jaw in time with the words. He had only ever got him to sit, and then that was only one time in three. One word from Dan, and Jake did whatever he wanted. “What’s this? Candid Camera?” He looked around, trying to spot the hidden camera. “No, Dan. It’s just me and you.” He stared at the dog again, weighing up his options. “OK, I’ll bite. Hello, Jake.” And he waved at him, still trying to find the camera. “Do you have a minute, Dan? I’d like a chat.” “Erm… sure. I wasn’t doing anything.” He switched off the television. “What’s up? You don’t like your dog food?” Jake shook his head. “You still think this is a joke.” “Well… how can I put this? You’re a dog, Jake. Either I’m being set up, or…” He smacked himself on the forehead. “Nope, I’m not dreaming. So it’s a joke. Who set you onto me? Dave? John? I’ll sort you out on Monday, you gits.” “I know this might be difficult to believe, Dan, but this isn’t a set up.” As Jake spoke, he walked up to face Dan square on. Dan was impressed, and a little disconcerted, to note that the sound of ‘Jake’s’ voice followed him as he walked. Maybe there was a speaker hidden in the collar. “Bend down, Dan, please.” “What?” “Bend down. I want to whisper.” Feeling foolish and not a little suspicious, Dan bent down. Jake stepped forward until his jaw was inches from Dan’s ear. “Dan,” said Jake quietly, and Dan could hear the voice coming directly from Jake’s mouth, Jake’s breath in synch with the words. “This isn’t a joke. I want to chat.” Dan sat up. This was madness. Of course it was a joke. But the voice, the breathing, even the look in Jake’s eye… Dan licked his lips nervously. “Turn around,” he said. “What?” “If you’re really talking to me, turn around.” Jake sighed, then turned through 360 degrees. “Happy?” Dan gave a short laugh, bordering on hysteria. “Touch your nose.” Jake obliged. “I’m drawing the line at tap-dancing. But I can do impressions. Meow. You want to shut your jaw now?” Dan did so. “Bloody hell. I’m hallucinating. I must be. Have I got a brain tumour?” “Relax. There’s a perfectly logical explanation.” “There is?” “Of course. Dogs can’t speak. We both know that.” “Right,” agreed Dan. “Right. So this isn’t really Jake speaking, is it?” “I guess not.” “No. I’m just using Jake’s body.” “You are?” Dan wasn’t sure that this was any more reassuring. “Yes.” “So, you’re an alien or something?” “Sort of. I’m God.” “God?” “Yes, Dan. God. You must have heard of me. You’ve called my name often enough. Last week when you realised that you hadn’t emailed that report. Last month when you were in bed with Georgina. God. Jahweh. Allah. Deus. Ngai. Jah. God. You don’t remember? I used to be quite big. Almost as big as the Beatles at one point.” “You’re God?” asked Dan, incredulously. “Yes, Dan. I’m God.” “You’re God?” “Yes, Dan. I’m God.” “God?” “Dan, can we get past this? Would it have been better if I was a burning bush? A pillar of smoke? I had exactly the same trouble with Samuel, you know. Took me all night to convince him. I thought this might be easier.” Dan swallowed hard. This must be a joke. It simply had to be. But it was real. Jake really was speaking. “Erm… you’re calling me, or something?” Dan wasn’t sure what ‘being called by God’ involved, but he had a vague feeling that it meant no more beer or sex. He could maybe give up the beer. Besides, wasn’t wine a big thing in religion? But still, he wasn’t sure he was ready for being called. Not just yet. He hoped that Georgina wasn’t ready for him to be called, either. But just to show willing, he carefully put the can of beer down on the coffee table. “That would be a turn around, wouldn’t it?” said the Jake-God. Somehow he seemed to be smiling. “The number of times you chased down the street, calling Jake when there was a bitch on heat, and now here he is calling you. But no, I’m not calling you. You’re not the next Francis of Assisi. I just want a chat, that’s all.” Dan felt a wave of panic rise from his stomach. What did you chat to God about? What about that save in the Chelsea match? It was a miracle the goalie got to it, wasn’t it. After all, you’d know. That model on Page Three. You did a good job on that body, mate, and no mistake. “A chat? OK. Erm… what about? Sorry about that ‘bloody hell’ earlier, by the way.” “That’s OK. You were just being honest. Honesty is a good thing, by and large. You would not believe how frustrating it is when someone claims I’ve said something, and I haven’t. It’s not like I can take him to court, or anything. “So how’s life treating you, then?” The sudden turn in the conversation threw Dan. “Erm… fine. Thanks. Oh, how about you? How are you doing?” “Well, I’m the Creator and Supreme Being. The Universe and all that is in it is mine, and without me there would be nothing. So, bearing that in mind, pretty good, all things considered." “OK” “But thank you for asking,” said God, through Jake. “You’d be surprised at how rarely people ask me that.” “You’re welcome.” Dan felt that somehow he was blundering though this OK. That was a result. “Do you like the sky, Dan?” “The sky?” “Yes, the sky. Big blue thing. Up there. Fits neatly to the horizon all round. The sky.” “It’s… it’s…” Damn. He had been doing OK, up till now. But what were you meant to say in answer to a question like that? “It’s great.” “Really? Not too monochrome? Would you have preferred stripes? A different colour? Green, maybe?” “No, really. It’s fine the way it is.” “What about the stars? Too many? Too showy?” One night, when Dan was, what, fourteen? He was on holiday in Minorca. Back then, Minorca hadn’t really been discovered by the package tourists, and one special, magical night he and his parents had walked across an unlit field. Dan had seen the night sky. For the only time in his life he had seen the Milky Way unspoilt by street lights. Suddenly he had understood the name. It had looked like someone had actually spilt a glass of milk across the sky. The number of stars had left him giddy. The majesty had choked him. “God, no!” he said with passion. “Shit, sorry about the ‘God’. Erm, and the ‘shit’. Sorry.” Jake managed a surprisingly expressive shrug. “That’s OK. I’ve heard you say worse.” Again the canine smile. “What about birds?” Dan was on firmer ground here. “Oh, they’re great, thanks a lot. I’m not gay or anything.” God and Dan stared at each other for a few seconds. Then God shook Jake’s head. “No, birds. Avian birds. Animals with wings.” Suddenly the sure ground shifted. “They’re… OK?” “Yes? Only it took ages to work out all the mechanics, you know. The weight/surface area versus the gravity. I was about to give up till I thought of the hollow bones. I’m really quite proud of them, but I’m not sure that all that effort was worth it. Have you ever looked at a pigeon? I mean, really look. In the sunlight their feathers reflect a rainbow of colours. That wasn’t an accident. Then people call them ‘flying rats’. It hurts, sometimes, you know? Dan nodded, because that seemed to be the thing to do. “What’s your favourite thing?” asked God. Dan broke out in a sweat. Was this a test? The Who Wants to Be a Millionaire question where he crashed and burned? “Favourite?” “Yes. Favourite. What in all creation is the thing you’re most happy with? What would you miss most if it was gone? What do you like the best in the world? What’s your favourite thing?” Dan’s mind froze. What was he meant to answer? What was the correct answer? What would happen if he got it wrong? “Erm… sunsets?” he hazarded. Sunsets sounded about right. Didn’t it? Jake nodded. “And the worst?” “Wars?” “Oh, now strictly speaking, that wasn’t my invention, that was yours. I don’t care what they say, I never started one.” “Erm… OK. How about…” Dan recalled one summer day when he was about six. They had had a picnic. He had drank from his glass of orange squash. He hadn’t noticed the wasp until it was in his mouth. Even now, he had an almost psychotic fear of them. “… wasps!” “Really?” God seemed disappointed. “They do such a good job in the garden. Still, if that’s what you think. And on a scale of one to ten, how would you rank the world?” “Nine?” Jake nodded his head. “Fair enough. Well, thanks, Dan. It’s good to chat to your lot every now and again. Get to know what you really think. Glad you like my universe. I’d better be off now. Oh, I wouldn’t tell anyone about this, if I were you. People have in the past, and sometimes it ended very messily.” “Ok,” said Dan carefully. “Oh, God, one more thing.” Jake sat down and started to chase down an itch in his groin with his teeth. Dan guessed that Jake was no longer possessed. He looked out of the window. A pigeon was walking around the lawn. In the sunshine its collar reflected an iridescent rainbow.
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