The Temple
Laziness is the Mother of all Evils.
Sophocles
At dawn a crow landed on Sycko’s chest and woke him up. Startled he waved the bird away which fluttered over the gentleman’s face waking him too.
Sycko groaned. His head was pounding and he felt the strong urge to throw up. He stood up and stumbled to the path where he vomited leaving behind a pavement pizza. He saw a bench and sat down. “Now why the fuck did I have to run into Judas?” he cursed. A sudden shout of dismay made him turn round.
“Oh Lord,” the gentleman wailed. “It’s all gone. The money, my rings, everything. Oh I have sinned, I know and the Lord’s wrath has been swift. Alack! Alas! Lord forgive this poor sinner a moment of weakness.”
He knelt on the ground and began to recite a lengthy prayer.
The stench from Sycko’s excesses filled the air until at last the gentleman could ignore the smell of puke no more. He stood up and looked around. “Now there’s a fine mess I’ve got myself into,” he said and looked first at Sycko and then the vomit in disgust. “And you, young man. What have you got to say for yourself? Didn’t I see you last night? I suppose you too have been left with empty pockets.”
“Eh, yes, I think so,” Sycko said. “Did the strange man understand that he had helped Charlie to rob him?” Sycko wondered. But then how could he? He’d been unconscious all the time.
“Let this be a lesson to you young man, as it has been a lesson to me,” the gentleman said, “and thank the Lord Almighty for looking after you as he has looked after me in my hour of need.”
Sycko didn’t understand how the Lord had looked after the gentleman when he’d just been shanghaied, but he understood that the man seemed to think he was a victim too. And why not he thought. Didn’t I too have a bundle of cash before I walked into that damn inn with Judas?
“Eh, yes, I suppose so.”
“Suppose so? Suppose so, he says. Do not suppose, young man. Be sure of your gratitude. But where are my manners. This is no place to be,” he said and pulled Sycko up and away from the vomit.
“I’m sure glad to be away from that pavement pizza,” Sycko said. “The name’s Sycko.” He held out his hand.
Slightly embarrassed the gentleman took it. “Yes, well, glad to meet you. Maybe something good will come out of all this after all. My name’s Jeremiah. Come with me. The Lord works in mysterious ways, but I believe that it was not mere chance that led us to sin last night. It was His will that brought us hither.”
“Where are we going?” Sycko asked. I really need a drink and some aspirins. My head’s killing me.” He suddenly noticed he was drooling and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a wet stain on his shirt.
Jeremiah noticed and was delighted. “Ah,” he said. “A portent, a good omen! I knew it was part of His plan that we should meet thus. Drool, slaver, drivel, is it not in His eternal glory that we Dryvellers perform this holy act?” Is it not written in the Book of Books, The Holy Dryvel, that to drivel shall evermore be a sign of the holy bond we have with our Lord? No, no, I tell you. This is all part of a plan. You must come with me. Our temple is not far. You will find all your heart’s desires there.”
Although Sycko had his doubts about finding his heart’s desire in any place but the vaults of a bank where he was free to help himself to as much money he liked without ever having to do any work, he was in no state to argue and meekly walked along. “Strange bloke, Jeremiah is”, he thought. “But what the heck. Nothing can be worse than what happened last night and maybe I’ll get something out of it. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
A few minutes later they reached the temple. It was a plain brick building with no ornamentation of any sort. The only things that made it different from any other building were a trickle of water down the side of the entrance that reminded every Dryveller of their holy bond with God and the inscription above the door:
When God throws, the dice are loaded
Sycko read it without understanding. “Do you play games in here?” he asked.
“Games?” Jeremiah pushed the door open and they entered. “Games?” he repeated. “Well, I suppose you could say some of the things we do could be seen in the manner of games. But come along. You’ll learn about everything presently. I have a good feeling about you. An excellent presentiment, in fact. It is most propitious. I dare say you might be the chosen one. Yes, Sycko, you are a special person and it is here that you have found your destiny.”
Sycko looked around wishing that the verbose Jeremiah would shut up. Evidently asking questions was a mistake if he wanted quiet and quiet was just what his pounding head needed. The hall they were in was bare. The ceiling was white, the walls were black and the floor was like a chess board. They walked to another room that was furnished with a simple wooden table and chairs.
“Pray, be seated, my friend,” Jeremiah said. I know, I know your head hurts. Let Jeremiah attend to it and all will be well soon.”
Moments later Jeremiah returned with a packet of aspirins and a bottle of water. Sycko quickly took two aspirins and drank greedily while Jeremiah slowly sipped tea from a cup and watched Sycko. The tablets slowly took effect and with the waning of the pain his interest in Jeremiah waxed.
“Gee, thanks Jeremiah. This is the very thing I needed.”
And you’re very welcome, my friend, but thank not me, thank not me. It is the Lord we must give thanks to. Is He not the giver of all munificence? It is such a pleasure to have you here, Sycko. But where are my manners again? Here I am talking when surely you would like to tell a little about yourself. Where do you live, Sycko?”
“Well, I live in a room in my parents’ place,” he said not at all sure he wanted to talk about himself. “I ain’t got a job now. Well, I had a job and worked real hard there, but I got the sack yesterday. There’s no pleasing some folks and my boss was never happy. Anyway, I guess I’ll just be staying with my parents until something else comes along.”
Jeremiah had a gleam in his eyes. “Yes indeed, the world is unjust, Sycko. You have been treated most unjustly. But believe me, it’s all for a purpose. Is it not written that a just man suffering at the hands of an unjust man shall bring atonement to the world of the unjust for their sins against God? Ah, my friend, I tell you there is more to all this than meets the eye.” He leant forward and patted Sycko’s hand. “I have a proposition to make, Sycko. A most propitious proposition I might say even if I say so myself,” he said leering at the young man. “It seems then that you are in want of a new life. Let me help you get away from injustice. Cleanse yourself from the impurity of avarice and ingratitude. Come and stay with us. There is a room I can give you and you’ll live and eat in our community. Let not the esurient be hungry and the sitient be thirsty is our motto. Join us here in a new life and we’ll show you the way forward.”
“You mean I can live and eat here for free and all I’ve got to do is talk with you?” Sycko said astounded. The idea of not having any work to do but being fed and looked after for free was very attractive. Much better in fact than staying at his parents’ place where there was always someone nagging and moaning about him finding a job, or helping at home or paying for the groceries. There was no peace to be had at all. Maybe Jeremiah was right after all when he’d said that Sycko could find his heart’s desire in the temple.
“Yes, well something like that,” Jeremiah said not quite understanding what Sycko meant. He quickly smiled. “Is it agreed then?” he asked. “Will you come and stay with us and learn our ways?”
“All right, yeah, I’ll shake hands on that, Jeremiah. You’re the most decent bloke I’ve ever met. I don’t think anyone has ever been so generous and kind to me. I’ll be happy to be here.”
Jeremiah beamed with joy. “The Lord be blessed thrice over!” he exclaimed. “What a joy, what an exultation there shall be!”
Sycko returned to the temple later that forenoon. When he got home to pick up his things his mother was pred
ictably mad that he had lost another job.
“And now you’ll be on our hands again, like a millstone round our necks. You never manage to keep any job longer than a fortnight, you useless lazy lad. Laziness it is, I’m telling you, laziness.”
“Well don’t worry. I’m just back to pack my things and leave. I’m making myself a new life.”
After some more arguing he left home leaving his mother behind in tears. ‘What the heck,’ he thought. ‘If she wants to cry let her cry. No way anyone’s going to stop me from living in a place where no one expects me to work. This is great. And if I can live for free I don’t mind drooling for them every day if they like it so much.’
Sycko started his new life by doing what he did best, lazing around. He got his first free lunch at noon and then spent the rest of the afternoon smoking and relaxing in his new room. There was a wooden bed, a small white table and a solitary chair, and at the front of the bed stood a small sofa facing a TV set that was fastened to the wall. Beside the bed was a small bedside table with a drawer. He opened the drawer and saw a single book lying in it entitled The Holy Dryvel. It was very thick, at least a thousand pages he decided. He wasn’t much of a reader so he quickly put the book back and closed the drawer. He tried the TV but there was no reception. “Nothing’s perfect, I guess. I’ll just ask Jeremiah to fix it.”
In the evening there was a knock at the door. Sycko opened and saw a young woman roughly his own age smiling at him. She was carrying a tray with food and drink.
“Hi,” she said. “Jeremiah thought you might want dinner in your room today as you’re not feeling so well.”
“Oh yeah, hey thanks. Just come right in.”
She put the tray on the table. “Enjoy your dinner,” she said in a pleasant voice and left the room before Sycko had time to say anything.
“This is just getting better and better,” he said. “Almost like in a hotel. I’ve really hit the jackpot this time. I’m almost grateful to Judas.”
There was even some aspirin on the tray. He took one and then lay down to sleep the first night in his grand new life.