God sure didn’t look how I imagined he would. If you ever meet God – and I hope you do – you take a long good look at his face. I hate to say this about the Creator of the Universe, and everything, but he sure looked like the most insignificant person I ever met.
He sure was friendly though.
“I think you should ring your parents, Franklin, tell them how you’re getting on.”
There he was going on about my parents again. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable in his Holy Presence.
“I will, I sure will, and thanks for pointing it out to me. I’m going to go and see them, and tell them how I’m feeling. I’m going to let them know how I keep sinking to the bottom of the sea and how I can’t swim back to the surface, and everything.”
Old God just nodded in that solemn way of his. He smiled again and I thought, Boy, old God sure does smile a lot. He really did though. He must have smiled about a million times on top of that mountain.
“Have you been to the hospital?” he said.
Boy, old God really got to the point. Hell, if it had been anybody else and not God sitting with me up there, I would have told him where to get off. Old God was starting to make me feel uncomfortable, if you really want to know.
“No, sir, I haven’t.”
“I can take you there, if you like?”
Boy, that really threw me all over the place. Boy, I think I really loved old God at that moment. I was touched that he could find time in his busy schedule to take me to hospital like that. I’ll tell you something, shall I? Don’t you ever tell me any crap about God not caring and all because I’ll spit in your eye and tell you that he does.
“Thanks for that,” I said.
I think I must have started to goddamn cry, or something, because old God suddenly leaned over and hugged me.
“I had a son who had some troubles like you,” he said.
Boy, I think old God was crying too, remembering about his own son, and everything.
“I know,” I said.
I did as well. I’d read the Bible like everybody else, for Chrissake (no offence, sir).
“I wasn’t there for him,” said God. “I didn’t know how he was feeling until a long time after. Until after he was dead.”
My goodness, old God was really bucketing tears down his face and everything by then.
“You did all you could, I’m sure,” I said.
To be honest, that wasn’t strictly true; the bit about him doing all he could. I thought that maybe he shouldn’t have let his son suffer and everything like that – you know – for so long. I know he was dying to save our sins and all – but hell – it was his only son when all is said and done.
“I didn’t, Franklin, I really didn’t. I knew something was wrong, but I just ignored it. I turned a blind eye. I thought he would be alright. A parent just doesn’t want to think that their son is different, do they? I knew deep down that he wasn’t happy, but I didn’t ask him and he never told me. That’s why it’s so important that you go and talk to your parents, Franklin. It’s not too late, for you.”
Blimey, I sure felt embarrassed and humble, and everything, sitting there with old God pouring out his troubles to me.
“I’m sure you did all you could, sir,” I said. “Listen, I really must be going. I’m meeting my sister.”
Listen, I know it was crazy lying to old God like that, when he probably knew I wasn’t really meeting Jenny, but I had to get away. He sure was good about the whole thing, he never mentioned it and started making out like he believed me, until I was just about crazy red with embarrassment.
“That’s great, Franklin. I’m glad you’re meeting your sister. I really think you should talk to her about how you’re feeling. Franklin, listen, it’s none of my business, but go back home, for God’s sake.”
Boy, I was confused. About him saying it was none of his damn business and that, when it clearly was because he was The Almighty. And then, him taking his own name in vain like that.
“I sure will, sir,” I promised.
I got away from him as quickly as I could. I had to, I swear it. I couldn’t take much more. I was sorry I hadn’t got to ask him all the questions I’d wanted, but I was feeling suffocated by it all. I started to scramble back down the rocks. I suppose I was crying by then. God suddenly yelled down at me, and I stopped and turned around. He was sitting on a rock. He said the strangest thing to me. He said that I reminded him of his son and it withered me away. I thanked him about a trillion times and then started to climb down the hill again. I was almost slipping down trying to get away from him. Everything was blurry because of the tears in my eyes. I was ruined because God had told me I reminded him of his son. I stopped at the foot of the hill. I swivelled on the wet grass.
There was a kid running towards me and she was holding a balloon. The balloon was too red for the dismal afternoon and it hurt my eyes. The kid suddenly tripped. She let go of the balloon and I watched it float up towards the sky. I started to run after the balloon. I tried like hell to catch it because the kid was crying and she reminded me of Jenny. I jumped up and down like a crazy man, but I couldn’t reach it. I was sorry I couldn’t reach it for the kid. I was sick to my heart over it, if you really want to know. We watched it soar away over Leicester and because there was something tragically beautiful about the whole thing, the kid stopped crying. I think we had a moment together over it or something.
When the balloon was just a dot in the sky I looked back at God. Boy, was I staggered. He was still sitting on the grass and Old John looming out of the mist behind him. And believe this if you can: he was watching the balloon float up to heaven and not doing a thing to help. He was even smiling, for Chrissake. Listen, he was perhaps the only one who could get that damn balloon back and yet he never lifted a finger to help that poor kid. I couldn’t get over it. I really found it difficult to take in, if you really want to know. Don’t get me wrong, I love God – of course I do – but he sure makes it hard for you to like him sometimes. I ran to where you catch the bus and when I looked back for the last time, old God was waving his scarf at me.
6
I used to sit next to the window in my room, staring out, across the market. I didn’t even put the gas fire on sometimes because I thought it was romantic to feel cold. Some days there were goddamn icicles dripping off my nose. It’s funny, but I can laugh about it now. I’d been back to the market about a trillion times, of course I had, but Ronnie never seemed too pleased to see me. Whenever I tried to speak to her she used to turn her pretty head away. It appeared she didn’t love me after all and the truth was shocking. I think she was crazy worried about losing her job. It was all very tragic, and everything. I was walking along the tight-rope of love, I know.
Anyway, I figured that if Ronnie wouldn’t speak to me at the stall I would wait for her after work. So I hung around the edges of the market one frosty evening until she’d finished. Christmas was coming and there was a huge tree covered with lights next to the Clock Tower. It was all very meaningful, when you think about it. I’d made up my mind to ask Ronnie if she wanted me to walk her home. Christ, I knew that if I didn’t at least try I’d end up wishing I was dead.
So I fooled around for an hour or two – it was five hours – under a streetlamp opposite the market. I was having fun, charging around like a horse and stamping my feet to keep the cold from my toes. It started to get dark and the city lights reflected like crinkled foil on the pavement. There was frost on the ground as well. I swear there was. God, I wanted to cry more than anything if they’d only just let me, okay?
Anyway, after Ronnie finished work she walked towards the bus stop opposite the market and I sort of waltzed up to her. I think I traversed up to her, if you really want to know. I could tell by the look of her face that she was real surprised to see me. She sure looked pretty though. Her face was white and pinched with cold, and I thought I was going to be sick. There was anguish near my heart and all that kind of thing. It
looked for a second or two like Ronnie was going to scream and so I told her, quickly, that I’d been waiting for five hours. Ronnie said I looked like I was dying and I said that was funny really because that was how I felt.
Then I handed her a big line.
“Can I walk you home, little girl?”
“No,” she said. “Go away.”
Ronnie lowered her head and marched away, brushing past me into the bargain, if you don’t mind. She left me standing on the pavement feeling like a right lemon. Anyway, I ran after her, I really did. I sort of trailed at her side while she was walking; that fast kind of walk that is almost a run. I was dead cute, I admit it. My hands were clasped behind my back, and I was bowing and stooping like I was her goddamn butler or something. Christ, I sure was laying it on the line for her. Ronnie was worth it though.
“I went to Old John a while back,” I said.
It was an ice-breaker, that’s all.
“I don’t care. Leave me alone.”
“I met God. He looked a hell of a lot like Michael Caine. We chewed the fat for a while and then I got away from him. I ran down that slippery mountain they call home. I saw a girl with a red balloon. She reminded me a lot of Jenny. Listen, Ronnie, you’re not going to believe this, I swear, but old God never even broke a sweat when that kid’s balloon floated off in the sky. Boy, you sure shouldn’t have to see a thing like that, you know. It made me feel pretty depressed afterwards, I can tell you.”
I was gasping like a marathon runner or something. Old Ronnie was walking so damn fast, she was almost sprinting, and I was struggling to keep up and talk to her at the same time.
“I’ve got to get my bus. I’m late as it is. That market’s so fucking busy.”
I sure didn’t like to hear old Ronnie swearing like that. Listen, I knew I wanted to marry Ronnie – and pretty soon – and so I knew I would have to tell her that I didn’t like women swearing. Jenny swore once and Dad just about hit the roof. She just giggled afterwards though, like it was all very amusing, and everything. She used the F word, for Chrissake. Jenny didn’t even know what the word meant, for crying out loud; she’d just heard some kids at school shouting it. That’s the problem. You can protect your kid all you want – you know, making it magical – but as soon as you let them out the door someone is going to teach them the F word.
I swear I wanted Jenny to stay at home for the rest of her life, just the two of us. But it can’t be like that, can it? And I understand that now, of course I do. You can’t lock kids up for ever so that no one will ever teach them a swear word. And you can’t follow them down the streets for about a million miles trying to keep your hands over their goddamn ears so they don’t hear terrible things. Believe me, I’ve tried.
“Hey listen, Ronnie, don’t swear, okay?” I said.
“You make anybody swear. I haven’t met anyone like you.”
“Is that good?” I said.
“No, it’s not good, it’s really not good.”
“It sounds good. It sounds like I’m sort of different, you know.”
“It’s not good. Please leave me alone.”
It was time to play the big hand. I knew that. I should have warned her, I suppose, laying down a gorgeous line like this on her so suddenly. But I kind of figured she needed to hear it. I wouldn’t say something like this lightly, okay?
“Can you see the stars?” I said. “They’re real pretty though, aren’t they? They’re a hell of a lot like you. Why does everyone have to rush around so much they got to miss the stars, eh?”
Ronnie stopped walking, suddenly, and for a second I couldn’t tell if she was going to smile or scream. Then she screamed. Christ, it was sure embarrassing, and all, because when Ronnie started screaming the people walking past stared at her.
“People are looking at you, Ronnie,” I said. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“I don’t care.”
Then I laughed in her face.
If somebody screams at me in the street like that, so that it embarrasses me and everything, then I have to laugh in their face, okay? I can’t help it. If I don’t laugh, then I’m going to cry.
“Please just leave me alone,” Ronnie said, when she’d calmed down a little. “I know you’re not well and you’re probably a sweet bloke, I don’t know, but please, listen to me, I can’t help you. I really can’t help you. I forgive you because I can see you’ve got some kind of problem, something sad in you, but why don’t you go home to your family? They can look after you. I’m not equipped to deal with this. I’ve had a really bad day, okay?”
It just about knocked me down when Ronnie said I was “probably a sweet bloke” and everything, and also the part about her forgiving me. Boy, I sure needed to hear it too. I’d been feeling lousy myself; cooped up in my room in the freezing cold. I was at a low-ebb, I admit it. It’s funny, and I don’t know why I did it, but I sort of leant forwards and said, “Thanks for forgiving me, Jenny.” Just like that. I sort of whispered it really, but Ronnie heard me anyway.
“What?”
“Sorry.”
“Who’s Jenny? What are you talking about?”
“I’m Jesus,” I said.
It didn’t do any good.
I’d played the big hand and lost.
Ronnie used the F word for a second time that day and then hopped onto her bus, and I never saw her again. Of course, I did see her again, but it sounds more romantic my telling you that I never saw her again, like that.
I love having my heart broken, don’t you? Love’s like that. That’s what love’s all about, isn’t it? It’s about having your heart smashed into a thousand pieces. That’s always the best part, I think. It is for me anyway. It’s always best to fall pretty hard when you fall in love. And listen, I always fall pretty hard, okay? I want my goddamn heart broken, for crying out loud. I want to wallow in the pain and self-pity that only love can bring. You know that special kind of pain? Only love can do it right. As soon as everything starts to go well I lose interest. It’s not the same anymore. It can’t be, can it? I want the crushing pain of love all the time. I want to miss someone so badly it’s killing me. And I can’t be happy unless I feel like that. Nothing else will do. That’s how it was with Ronnie. That’s how it is with every girl. They always break your goddamn heart in the end. I swear my heart’s been broken about a million times already.
So I stood and watched Ronnie’s bus clear off into the night. The lights in the city were fuzzy bright. I was feeling pretty cold, except for my face, of course, which was dripping with sweat. The streetlamps glowed prettily along the pavement and it was perfect as hell. I decided I didn’t want to go and sit in my room all night, so went to buy Jenny a Christmas present. I’d decided long ago to buy her a snow globe. Old Jenny loves snow globes just about more than anything else in the world.
There was a brass band playing carols near the Clock Tower and it sounded like the right sort of music to accompany a broken heart. I stopped and listened for a while. I was shaking mostly and crying too by then, if you don’t mind. Anyway, a woman from the Salvation Army came up to me and rattled her tin. I pulled out about a thousand notes and stuffed them in her hand. It was too much, I know, and it was still only the beginning of November, but I was confused about things. I swear the sound of a brass band playing Christmas carols can do that to a person. The woman with the tin told me that Jesus loves me and I thought, If only she knew.
In the end I just bolted. I had to get away. It was because the sadness was coming back. I could already feel it and I knew I had to get away before everything was ruined. Sadness can do that. It can just about ruin your whole life if you let it.
So I went into that large department store that Mum loves, to buy Jenny the snow globe. I was sweating like a pig. I went to the Christmas section. I found there were about a million snow globes for sale and I sort of froze for a few moments. Then I did a silly thing. I ran along the shelves shaking the snow globes, until eventually things go
t so sparkly-bright in there I just about went blind. I was going crazy. I was rushing up and down the aisle like a mad thing. I tried to keep all the snow globes going at the same time, but as soon as I shook one, another would stop. It was like trying to balance goddamn plates on sticks, for Chrissake. Pretty soon it wore me out and I sat down in the middle of the aisle and just watched it all for a few minutes. It felt like I was sitting at the bottom of the ocean and the sand had turned bright silver and was swirling around my head.
It’s funny, but I was happy while the specks of glitter were floating around inside the globes and miserable when they stopped. Snow globes can do that to you. I wanted to keep shaking them so that I could be happy all the time. I struggled to get back on my feet. My coat was heavy; it felt like it was pressing down on me. Pushing my shoulders down like big hands. God, I really was losing my mind back then. I knew that I didn’t want to buy a snow globe for Jenny after all. I figured that if the bright bits didn’t float around for ever then she would never be happy.
I staggered out of the shop because the heat was suffocating me. I could still see the bits of glitter going round and round when I closed my eyes. I raced past the brass band and sat down on a bench near the Clock Tower. I was feeling pretty shaky because I hadn’t eaten a thing all day; my head was numb. I stared at the stars over Leicester and they were going crazy too, like the glitter inside the snow globes. I put my head in my hands. I stayed like that for about a hundred years, I think. I was very frightened. Every time I lifted my head to look the stars would sweep past my eyes. I began praying, I suppose. My goddamn knees were shaking like death. I eventually cried out for the stars to stop moving and when I took another look, I saw that they had stopped moving and everything was fine like before. I got calm pretty quickly after that.
I thought about my dad again, I swear I did. It was because of the snow globes. It was because of that day – that Christmas Eve – when I ran into the house and told him that Jenny had been knocked down by a car. Dad was merrily wrapping Jenny a snow globe when I told him. The colour just ran out of his face. He gave out a little choking cry when I told him and then he ran out of the house. He never even put his shoes on, for Chrissake.
An Hour in the Darkness Page 5