THE MEETING
By Peter Woodgate
David opened his eyes, slowly, then looked around. He was standing in a
large room, empty of furniture and dimly lit by various candles sited in
ornamental fittings that were spaced evenly around three of the walls. On each
of these walls, two heavily draped sections secreted, David assumed, windows.
Elongated shadows, accentuated by the ornate candle fittings gave the room a
Gothic appearance. On the remaining wall, there were no candles or drapes, just
one large arched door.
He began to feel very
insecure, in panic mode almost and was praying it was a dream. Suddenly the
door burst open and a blinding light had David covering his face with his
hands. He opened them slowly and saw a silhouetted figure enter the room. The
glaring backlight meant that David could not make out any features on the
imposing shape until, as quickly as it had opened, the door slammed shut. His
eyes began to adjust to the dimly lit room again and David, although unable to
make out facial features, noticed the shimmering aura that surrounded the
entrant. David was about to mumble something when the figure beat him to it and
booming, with minatory authority, spoke!
“David, I am God and I am asking you to give me good reasons as to why I
should allow you to pass through this door into Heaven?
Well, David, being an atheist,
was somewhat dumbfounded. He didn’t believe in God, in Heaven or Hell yet, here
he was about to talk to God. He bowed his head and looked down on the floor,
ostensibly to avert from the piercing gaze that God was giving him. It was then
he became aware of the strange pattern on the floor just where he was standing.
It reminded him of a portcullis and David shivered as he assumed what this
shadow meant.
As he looked up God spoke
again. “That’s right, it is what you think, you are literally fighting for your
death, up or down, it’s up to you.”
David somehow found some strength and answered, with bravery.
“If you are God why are you meeting me at the door? I was always told
that it was St Peter who carried out this part of the initiation.”
“Yes, that is quite right David, St Peter should be dealing with this
task but, the fool ignored social distancing (he got too close with one of the
angels on cloud nine) and now he’s got bloody coronavirus. I've been covering
for him ever since and I am getting fed up with it. Do you know the only person
that has offered to cover this duty so far was one of my son’s disciples, Judas his name. However my son has told me
that you can’t trust him unless you bung him some silver, so here I am grumpier
than usual and you better watch out!”
David was becoming angry now
and told God that he would answer, in truth, but felt he should be given the
chance to ask some questions first. God was quite taken aback by David’s reply and felt some admiration for him, agreeing to accept
questions. David, growing in confidence,
asked God the first question.
“What makes you the real God? What about all those other gods being
worshipped throughout the world, are they real and who should we believe?”
God took a deep breath and
replied, “The fact is David, I am the only God the maker of all things and must
be obeyed. There are only two religions in this world: My religion and that made up by mankind which suits individual dreams. I have made the
universe, the solar system and the earth. Every living creature has been
crafted through me and serves a plan and purpose.” David interjected, “well God
if I may say so I think you have made some silly things.”
“Give me some examples then,” God threw his answer back to David.
“Well,” David hesitated for a moment before answering, “What about the
wasp then, what sort of plan do they fit into? What use are they? Apart from
stinging someone you detest.”
God replied immediately, “you may think they have no use but they have a
use for me.” David was sure he noticed a smirk on God’s face as he continued, “I
have placed the wasp in the world to assist me in judging people’s character.
It is how they react to those evil little nuisances that enables me to make
notes on individuals. This is then written down in the book I have before me.”
God slammed the book down on a
desk that had suddenly appeared. A huge cloud of dust swirled in the air as God
swore out loud, “those bloody angels too busy trying to be goody-goodies
instead of concentrating on their cleaning duties.”
David then leapt onto the
offensive asking God, “Why, if you have all the info on me, in that book, do you want good
reasons to let me in.”
“I know,” God was almost jovial at this point, “it’s just a game I play,
I do like to make people plead and grovel. You would be surprised how some
people lie through their hind teeth, it cracks me up. I know from the start
that I will be pulling the lever, for down below but have a bit of fun
beforehand.”
“I shouldn’t really tell you
this,” God continued, “but I had a bloke up here the other day, cocky sod,
thought He was God. Anyway, he’d contracted coronavirus, thought he was immune
and shook hands with someone to show how brave he was stupid bugger. Well the
lies he told were unbelievable. My hand was on the lever, ready, but it turned
out that he was sent up too early, a ventilator saved him and he was dragged
back down.”
David was furious at this
point and shouted at God, “look here, I didn’t believe in you before I met you,
whatever apparition you may be, and I am even more of an atheist now, if that
is possible.”
“Oh come on” God’s attitude
was almost apologetic, “I’m just having a bit of fun, I’ve had enough of all
this “Donkey Work, excuse the pun, that should be my son's job. Anyway, I know
you are a good person really and was going to let you in anyhow.”
David was not listening now,
he had closed his eyes and all he could hear was a slow pulsating thump. He
opened his eyes, again, slowly and gazed into those of the doctor looking over
him. “Welcome back David,” the doctor had a smile on his face, “nearly lost you
there for a moment, and our special guest in the next bed too, that would have caused
a stir. David managed to turn his head slightly in order to look at the patient
in the next bed. He couldn’t see an awful lot but assessed the person was
fairly burly. What was very noticeable however was the unruly mop of yellowish
hair that protruded from beneath the mass of tubes.
Copyright Peter Woodgate