‘Would you do that for me?’
‘Sure,’ I answered. If I was in the midst of saving the world, I may as well have a go with my mother’s love life.
Once I’d hung up, I got dressed, went downstairs and met Svetlana in the hallway. It was now or never. Could I bring myself to love her? I looked into her eyes, which were covered in the kind of glittery make-up favoured by transvestites and chorus girls in ‘Dancing on Ice’ (there was most probably a degree of overlap between groups). I asked myself what I could do with this woman that I would also like done unto me.
‘Svetlana, there’s a pretty nice café in this backwater town of ours that does a great breakfast. Do you fancy it?’ I asked.
‘Excuse me?’ Svetlana was clearly confused, maybe even suspicious.
‘I’m sure it will be a lovely daughter-stepmother morning,’ I tried to joke. Svetlana, who clearly found the absurdity of our future family constellation even more amusing than I did, smiled and said. ‘Sure.’
Soon after, we were sitting in Malente’s smartest café, and the chef was preparing a stupendous omelette with ham, tomatoes and leek right in front of our eyes. Yet I still did not feel any positive feelings towards her, let alone love, even though I was treating Svetlana like I myself would like to have been treated. But food and drink probably wasn’t enough. What else would I like? For people to be interested in me. So I tried to show some interest in Svetlana. ‘It… it must be hard, to raise a child alone in Belarus.’
‘It’s hard anywhere,’ she replied.
I nodded in agreement and thought about the German zombie mothers with dark circles under their eyes.
‘But it was especially hard for me, because I also had to look after my sick father,’ Svetlana explained. ‘That’s why I worked did piece-rate work.’
‘In the factory?’ I asked, biting into a wonderful chocolate croissant.
‘In the brothel,’ she answered.
I choked on my wonderful chocolate croissant.
When I’d finished coughing, she quietly said: ‘Your father knows. And you may as well know too.’
I would have loved to have ended this conversation right away. But that would probably not have been very good for my Sermon on the Mount mission. So what was I going to do? Show her compassion? I wouldn’t have wanted that if I was her. Understanding? More likely.
‘OK. That doesn’t sound easy…’ I stammered. That was all the understanding I had to offer.
‘I didn’t lie to you. Your father is a wonderful man as far as I’m concerned. No one has ever been as good to me as he is.’ She sounded very level-headed, and genuine. And she’d told me about her dodgy past. A dishonest woman was not likely to do that. I decided to give her what I would most have wanted most in her position – trust.
‘It would be lovely if you could make him happy,’ I said.
‘I will certainly try,’ she replied, and it sounded honest.
Then we ate our omelettes. By the end of our breakfast we had reached a reasonable level of understanding. And we respected one another. But I had not managed to love her. Yet I still felt that my efforts deserved to be recognised with a ‘nonetheless’.
I wanted to go to see Joshua, to ask him if he shared my assessment (and because I missed him and this was a good excuse to meet with him). But I was met by a very troubled looking Gabriel on the path outside the vicarage.
‘Keep away from him!’ he called at me from afar, looking a bit like an exorcist in one of those seventies horror movies.
‘Good day to you too,’ I replied sharply.
‘Keep away from him,’ he warned again.
‘I am not of Satan,’ I explained to him as calmly as possible.
‘That’s precisely what someone in cahoots with Satan would say,’ he said angrily, with a logic that was not exactly easy to refute.
‘How can I prove to you that I don’t have anything to do with Satan?’
‘By keeping away from him.’
‘I won’t and I can’t,’ I replied.
He looked at me angrily. For a moment, I feared that he would come at me with a crucifix and a holy water gun.
‘You have really hurt my mother,’ I told him in a much calmer voice.
This silenced Gabriel at first. And I wondered how I could reach out to him, Golden Rule-style. I had tried understanding. That had helped with Svetlana too. ‘I can understand that you are afraid in a situation like this, but my mother is…’
‘Hold your tongue!’
‘But…’
‘Hold your tongue!’
I had trouble suppressing my rage.
How could I calm him down? What would I have wanted in his situation?
‘Would you like a schnapps?’ I suggested hesitantly.
He looked at me even more angrily.
‘So what do you want from me then?’
‘For you to become a pillar of salt.’
‘You’re not really living according to the Sermon on the Mount are you?’ I snapped back.
‘Don’t tell me how to live in your true faith.’
‘Well, if you’re not…’
‘Get lost!’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Get lost. It’s for your own good,’ he insisted.
‘Surely I should be the best judge of what’s good for me or not,’ I countered sharply.
‘You don’t know anything. You’re a stupid, naive child!’
‘And you are a pig-headed, annoying old man!’ I blurted.
‘What did you call me?’
‘I called you a pig-headed, annoying old man, you stubborn old fool!’
We eyeballed each other.
At that moment, I heard a voice behind me saying: ‘Marie?’
I turned around and was shocked to see Jesus. He had heard everything, but was not angry with me, just disappointed. I gulped, and didn’t know what to say to him, so Gabriel took the chance to speak up.
‘My Lord…’
‘Please leave us alone,’ Jesus requested.
‘But…’
‘Please.’ Jesus spoke calmly, but with enough determination that Gabriel did not object any further. He just glared at me briefly with blazing eyes and toddled off back into the vicarage.
‘Shall we go for a little walk?’ Jesus asked, and I nodded without saying a word.
We both walked away from the vicarage in silence. Almost automatically, the path led us to our favourite spot by the lake. As we sat down on the pier, Jesus finally broke this oppressive silence and declared, ‘It would not seem that you have understood the spirit of my words.’
‘I still have until this afternoon,’ I countered quietly.
‘Will you be able to live according to the Sermon on the Mount by then?’ Jesus asked, with a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes.
‘Of course,’ I answered.
‘Really?’
‘No.’
Jesus looked at me in surprise. I wondered, whether I should tell him that you couldn’t just heed something like the Sermon on the Mount from one day to the next, and that I needed time to implement all of this, so probably something like five to forty years.
‘You… can’t do it so quickly…’ I finally stammered.
‘My disciples, except for Judas, were able to do so right after my sermon.’
‘Maybe you needed to catch it live?’ I argued rather weakly.
‘Mary Magdalene also managed to do so, after Peter had told her about the sermon.’
Well, great. Now he was talking about this ex! It’s never pleasant to stand in the shadow of his ex-girlfriend, but I surely had to be standing in the biggest ex-girlfriend shadow known to man. What was I going to do now? To save the world? And our friendship? Could I already speak of ‘love’? Certainly from my perspective. But what about from his? Well, sometimes he looked at me that way… when he was Joshua… not Jesus. But he probably wasn’t going to be doing that again.
Was he? What was it the Golden Rule sa
id? I should do unto others, as I wanted them to do unto me.
At the sight of his beautiful face I only wanted one thing before Joshua went off to Jerusalem – for him to kiss me! What did I have to lose now? So I slowly leant down towards him. I grasped his wonderful, slightly rough face in my hands and moved my lips closer to his.
All that a very surprised Joshua could muster now was: ‘Marie…’
I just quietly said: ‘Shhh… It’s all in the spirit of the sermon.’
Before a very overwhelmed Joshua had the chance to ask why, I kissed him.
Just very lightly.
Like a breath of air.
Our lips touched for what seemed like the blink of an eye.
But during this blink of an eye, I felt as though I was in heaven.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Meanwhile…
Satan was standing outside the clinic where Kata had scheduled an appointment, as twenty-four hours had passed without her feeling any pain whatsoever. The Prince of Darkness was not roaming around as George Clooney, but Alicia Keys. He knew that he would be closer to Kata’s beauty ideal with this slim soul diva. Although he already possessed her soul, he wanted to seem especially alluring to her. She fascinated him greatly. If he was going to win the final battle, perhaps she could sit on the throne next to him, the one he was planning to construct out of the Messiah’s bones.
‘Hello chocolate face.’ Satan’s train of thought was suddenly interrupted. Two adolescent skinheads were approaching. Normally, those half-witted skinheads were one of his target groups – and having to deal with such types in hell was another aspect of his job that was making him increasingly depressed – but these skinheads were in the middle of some kind of riot.
‘Piss off out of our town, you negro whore!’ the larger one of the two threatened.
‘Do me a favour and go and bust your head on that wall,’ Satan commanded with his soulful female voice, and the skinhead ran – just as he was told – into the nearby brick wall. The other skinhead turned pale.
‘And you,’ Satan said to him, ‘go into the nearest kung fu dojo and tell the grand master he’s a chink.’
‘Will do.’ The skinhead ran off eagerly.
Then Kata stepped out of the clinic. She didn’t even register the skinhead lying on the ground. She was far too confused. She was also relieved, but mainly confused. The tumour had gone! As if through a miracle. It was unbelievable. Did that freaky Jesus guy have anything to do with it, or maybe it had been that crazy Clooney? Suddenly, she saw Alicia Keys standing in front of her. Kata rubbed her eyes.
‘Hello,’ said Alicia Keys.
‘Hello…’ Kata replied. She had no reason to be rude.
‘May I introduce myself? I’m Satan,’ Alicia Keys explained.
To prove it, she transformed herself into a being with a blood red face, horns, hooves and a pretty ugly tail, accompanied by terrible sulphur fumes. There were flames blazing around his entire body, which did not burn Satan of course. He only showed himself like this for a short time, before turning himself back into Alicia Keys. The flames disappeared, too. Once the smell of sulphur had dissipated and Kata had found her voice, she bravely said: ‘Wow, you have some really good special effects.’
‘And I have your soul,’ Alicia grinned.
Kata gulped. This was really freaking her out now. Just a short while ago she hadn’t even believed that a thing like the soul even existed.
‘I sense what you’re thinking. That you’re going to be the first one to do it. Lots of other people hope that too. You’ve all just read too many stories in books and seen too many movies, where unrealistic things like that have worked.’
Alicia Keys laughed, while Kata realised that her sister probably was hanging around with Jesus. Maybe he could help her? All she needed to do was to run to Marie quickly and…
But Satan had no plans to let Kata go home.
‘I’m going to introduce you to your fellow horsemen now,’ Satan explained.
‘Horsemen?’ Kata had no idea what he was on about. What did he want? To go foxhunting with her?
Satan snapped his fingers, and suddenly Kata was no longer with him in front of the clinic, but at a table outside the Malente ice-cream parlour. The two of them were not alone.
‘May I introduce,’ Satan said, ‘this man who will be the apocalyptic horseman called War…’ He pointed at Marie’s ex-groom, Sven.
‘…and this is the apocalyptic horseman called Famine.’ He pointed at a man wearing vestments… and gym clothes.
‘And you will be the horseman called Pestilence.’
Kata didn’t even understand half of what he was on about. She only knew one thing – she didn’t want anything to do with all of this.
‘I’m getting out of here,’ she said with all the might she could muster.
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you,’ Alicia Keys smiled.
‘If I understand correctly,’ Kata countered, ‘then you’ll only get my soul once I’m dead. So I can do what I like. Like leave. Right now.’
‘Yes, but I can kill you whenever I want to,’ Satan smiled, conjuring up a fireball from his feminine, perfectly manicured hand.
Kata gulped and answered: ‘That must be useful when the cigarette lighter in your car isn’t working.’
‘And when you’re dead, I’ll have your soul, and then you will have to bear your tumour pains for all eternity, as a punishment for defying me.’
A terrible fear ran through Kata. Was she going to have this pain forever? The only reason she wasn’t completely freaking out yet was because she was still clinging onto the slight hope that she might become the first person to trick Satan into returning her soul.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
I was stunned after the kiss. So was Joshua. We stared at the lake for quite a while. We were no longer Marie and the Messiah. We were just two incredibly anxious thirtysomethings.
‘Sorry, sorry, that wasn’t a very good idea of mine,’ I finally stammered.
‘A foolish idea,’ he confirmed in an unsteady voice.
‘The most foolish idea in the whole world,’ I added.
‘No. That was Peter’s idea that he could also walk on water.’ This made Joshua smile.
Yes, smile. Only a little, but he smiled. Wasn’t he angry with me?
‘Aren’t you angry with me?’
He hesitated a little before answering: ‘No, I’m not.’
He wasn’t!
What did that mean? Had he enjoyed the kiss? Did he want more? I certainly wanted more! But should I push my luck and have another go?
It turned out that I wasn’t brave enough. First I would carry on staring out over the lake a bit more.
‘Sometimes…’ Joshua began speaking, before stopping again.
‘Sometimes…?’
‘Sometimes I ask myself whether there might be another divine plan hidden behind the Day of Judgement, and whether there might not be eternal punishment for the sinners after all.’
‘Another plan?’ I enquired.
‘I don’t know which one… but God’s ways are wonderful.’
‘Whimsical more like…’ I mumbled.
‘What did you say?’
‘Erm… nothing, nothing.’
We both carried on staring out over the lake anxiously. And then – as though the kiss had lifted a veil from me – I suddenly saw a way out of this dilemma. ‘Why don’t you just walk the earth for a couple of years?’
Jesus looked surprised. ‘I should delay the Day of Judgement?’
‘Exactly. Then you can show people how to live their lives according to the Sermon on the Mount,’ I explained eagerly, ‘and save a few more souls.’
This idea also seemed to electrify Joshua. ‘That’s a wonderful thought.’
And what electrified me was that one of my thoughts had electrified him.
‘Well, would you accompany me?’ he asked.
He wanted to take me? As a disciple? Deep
within me I felt that I would not necessarily be the best disciple.
‘Erm… but I wouldn’t need to sleep in caves would I?’ I asked.
He burst out laughing. ‘No, you wouldn’t.’
‘Then… gladly.’
We smiled at each other. His smile was so wonderful. I would have loved to have cradled his face in my hands again and to have kissed him. But I just managed to restrain myself with all my might.
‘Why are you sitting on your hands?’ he asked sounding very confused.
‘Just because…’ I stammered.
We sat in silence again for a while, and suddenly Joshua said: ‘I would like to hold your hand.’
‘Then… do it,’ I told him, my heart beating with excitement.
‘You’re sitting on your hands.’
‘Oh… oh yes…’ I stammered and freed my hands.
So we sat holding hands once again on the pier. I was happy. And so was he. It seemed that my suggestion had enabled him to find a good balance, for at this moment he was equally the Messiah and Joshua.
After a few minutes of gloriousness just sitting on the pier, it was time for another one of my popular ‘I can destroy any moment no matter how wonderful’ performances.
‘Don’t you think God will mind?’ I asked, referring both to the handholding and the new plan to walk the earth again.
‘I will pray to him and hope that he will understand,’ Joshua replied. He sounded optimistic and determined. I only noticed that he was a little unsure when he loosened his grip on my hand.
‘It would be nice if you could leave me alone to say this prayer,’ he requested.
‘Sure, sure… of course,’ I replied, leaving the pier, even though I found it hard to be parted from him.
I went off along the path by the lake. Meanwhile I imagined how my life might change now. Marie from Malente would roam the world with Jesus. That sounded nuts. But wonderful as well. Would Jesus and I kiss again during our travels? Just the idea got me into a right state. I was burning up as I thought about it… or perhaps it was because of the thorn bush that had suddenly caught fire in front of me.
MARIE!
Apocalypse Next Tuesday Page 17