Something hit Dylan hard on the head. Even in his post drunken sleep he knew what it was. He struggled to some overcome his hungover state. It was small and metal, after hitting his head with full force it ricocheted off the headboard of the bed landing on the pillow before his sleep filled eyes. The Ring. Sitting upright he saw her at the foot of the bed. Arms stretched down by her side, fists clenching.

    “Dylan you Bastard!” She screamed with tears in her eyes, before turning towards the door slamming it behind her.

    He dived out of the bed dragging the duvet off the bed and the girl in it.

    “Kathy wait. Wait.” He pleaded tripping and stumbling on the tangle of bed sheets. It was too late, the front door had slammed even harder than the bedroom door. A limited edition print fell from the wall smashing the glass in the frame. The headache returned, falling to the nearest comfortable chair he massaged his temples while trying to get to grips with his situation.

    “Was that you girlfriend?” Said the girl dressing herself from his bedroom.

    “Fiance.” He wearily replied.

    “Ouch!” She said strutting across the floor towards the front door while still buttoning up her blouse.

    “Where are you going?” He asked her.

    “Home!” She said opening the door.”

    “But but...”

    “Bye!” She said blowing a kiss, closing the door gently behind her.

    He tried to remember her name. Julie, Julia, Jesse, he could not remember. It was a mistake, all of it. Losing his job and his fiance in the same twenty-four hours. What else could go wrong. Getting sacked from the brokerage was no big deal, he knew people, he could get another job, but losing Kathy was a big mistake. He should have gone straight home after leaving the office and not to the bar. One drink turned into two, then his ex colleagues came in commiserating him, buying him drinks. Then the girl. What was her name again? He didn’t even remember the sex but the condom wrapper on the bedside locker suggested they had dome something.

    “Ah well there are plenty more heiress’ in the sea.” He said to himself.

 

    It was still early. The city was still waking up. He stepped off the front step of the Georgian building in the direction of the ethnic district. The sun shone on rain washed cobble streets giving the appearance of a freshly washed day. At the corner he stopped at the newspaper kiosk for the early edition. He took one before dropping the correct change into a tin that Max the blind man had there for his customers. While exchanging morning pleasantries he slipped a copy of a porno mag into the fold of his newspaper.

    PEACE DEAL IMMINENT was the headline on the newspaper. It held his attention for a second before turning to the sports pages.

    Turning onto the ethnic quarter he glanced up from the paper to direct himself towards his favorite Saturday morning cafe. The waiter was still setting up the tables, chairs and screens. It was too early for any customers so he could enjoy his breakfast undisturbed. Stepping inside the plexiglass screen he indicated the front corner table to the waiter with a nod of his head. The waiter nodded in agreement.

    “Uno momento.” Said the waiter slipping into his native tongue.

     He took his seat then spread his newspaper flat on the table. The employment supplement fell loose catching his attention. Why Not. He thought. New day, new start. God only knew what the future would bring.

    The waiter returned with a menu. Dylan bid him  to wait a second. 

    “Large latte. Cheese and ham croissant.” He decided quickly. A chilled breeze rushed around them rustling the pages of the newspaper. Looking up from the menu he saw a man sitting in the opposite corner of the cafe, staring at him. The man’s eyes flicked to the waiter as the waiter noticed him for the first time too, surprised by his sudden appearance.

    “Coffee, black.” Said the strikingly handsome dark stranger stroking his goatee beard.

    Dylan continued reading the supplement occasionally glancing over at the stranger in the opposite corner who seemed to be staring at him as if in a trance like state. The waiter returned with their respective orders setting them on their tables.

    Dylan’s phone chirped a text. From his jacket pocket he read the text from Kathy. GET A LIFE, LOSER!    

Releasing a disappointed sigh he folded his phone shut. He wondered how much he would get for the ring in a pawn shop. Hmmmm. Croissant getting cold. He thought to himself. Biting into it he savored the perfect crust topped with parmesan cheese and stuffed with oak smoked bacon. He chewed the texture and flavors with epicuran delight, his eyes rolling in ecstasy. Holding the latte below his chin he inhaled the essence of the coffee just enough to infuse the flavor of the food. Divine!

    A deep bronchial cough followed by a spit of phlegm broke the moment from just outside the plexiglass screen on the cobbled street. 

    “Mother of God. What is that?” Exclaimed Dylan.

    A stumbling well worn brown coat brushed up against the glass as the figure made his way along it to the entrance. Standing in the entrance, a dirty white haired tramp filled the entry holding the steel supports to keep him upright. A drunken smile located Dylan. Dylan covered the croissant with his napkin lest the creature would breathe near it. The tramp wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before wandering towards the dark stranger. The waiter moved to eject him but the dark stranger raised his hand.

    “He’s with me.” He said in a commanding tone.

    The tramp slumped into the seat opposite the dark stranger.

    “Tea. Please. Earl grey if you have it.” He said to the waiter with an impish grin.

    The dark stranger glared at the tramp opposite him, then shot Dylan a stare. Dylan raised the newspaper, shielding his view of the two men.

    “Jesus Christ, look at the state of you.”Said the dark stranger.

    “Actually I’m in person today. You should have said good Lord look at the state of you. Anyway am I not allowed to enjoy myself occasionally?”

    The waiter returned with an earl grey tea bag in a cup of hot water.

    “Thank you.” Said the tramp very politely with more than an accent of landed gentry.

    Piqued by their conversation, Dylan tuned in on their corner of the cafe.

    “I have often wondered what you do for enjoyment. Don’t answer that! I don’t want to know.” Said the dark stranger with a wave of his hand.

    “Your not the only one that can party you know.” Said the tramp.

    “I don’t want to know.”

    “Oh you’ll never change. Will you?” Said the tramp laughing slightly.

    “Want to bet on that.” Said the dark stranger smiling slightly for the first time.

    The tramp reached across the table grabbing the dark stranger by the wrists, turning them upwards. From a sleeve he withdrew and Ace of Spades.

    “Predictable, as always. As I said. You’ll never change.”

    “How interesting. That is what I want to see you about. Change.”

    The waiter dropped the bill on the table. They pause their conversation until he is gone.

    “Really. Now I am curious. Why did you call this little meeting? We are not due for another couple of hundred years.” Said the tramp.

    Dylan leaned forward into his newspaper straining to hear more clearly.

    “I quit!” Said the dark stranger.

    “Quit? You can’t quit.” Said the tramp.

    “I quit! There I said it. I quit.”

    “Don’t be so ridiculous. You don’t mean it.”

    “Yes, I do! In fact haven’t you noticed how everyone has been getting along just fine these days. Peace deals, truces. Dictators handing over to democracy. I haven’t lifted a finger in nearly a year. And you know what, it feels great.” Said the dark stranger.

    “You have got the best job on the planet. Why would you want to quit? You can have any thing you want, any woman you want, as much money as you want. You will lose all this and more if you quit. You will lose all of your powers.”

    “It gets boring. I need a challenge. I need something new. Something worth while doing.

    “But what would you do?”

    “Become one of them.” Said the dark stranger looking in the direction of Dylan.

    “A mortal?” Said the tramp in horror.

    “I like the idea of the uncertainty and insecurity of their lives. Not knowing what is going to happen next. Not knowing what twist of fate God is going to land on you. You wouldn’t know what that is like though. Would you.”

    The tramp seemed completely sober by now.

    “Lucifer. You break your pact with me and you will find out about uncertainty and fate sooner than you think.”

    “Threatening me now, is it. It does not take much to bring you down to my level.” Said the dark stranger. 

    Dylan’s eyes widen in disbelief. Maybe they are actors rehearsing the lines of a play. Maybe not. His latte mug rattled on the saucer. The two men give him a disapproving look. 

    “I’ve been doing this job in various shape and form for three thousand years now. I’m bored with the misery and suffering I cause. Half of it I don’t even get the blame for. It’s an act of God according to insurance companies. Not an act of the devil. Oh no! You get the credit for earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis, floods and all kinds of natural disasters. You get the credit. Not me.”

    “The great flood was mine. I’ll own up to that one.” Chipped in the tramp.

    “Thats my point. If you do it, its allowed. If I do it I’m the worst in the world. If I get the blame at all.”

    The tramp laughs.

    “Look Lucifer! There’s a big one coming up. Revelations!

    Thats a load of bullshit. I’ve read it a million times and it does not make a blind bit of sense. Were you drunk when you wrote that?

    The tramp smiles at the Lucifer while stirring his tea.

    “I knew it! You were on some weed or mushrooms or something.”

    “I did not write it, but fellow who did was a little inspired at the time shall we say.”

    “Its the hard sell. Isn’t it. Put the fear of God in them.

    “No! I need you to do that. Your the sales man for my insurance policy.” Said the tramp sternly sipping his Earl grey tea.

    “Without me, your nothing. Without me, they won’t believe in you. Isn’t that it?” Said Lucifer realizing the truth for the first time after all these years. God looks on with a guilty expression.

    “I’ve been your fool for far too long.”

    “I’m the shepherd. They are the flock. Your my sheep dog with sharp gnashing teeth.” Said the tramp 

    “I got the shitty end of the stick. I’ve got a bad reputation here. I don’t deserve it. We’re not adversaries. We’re a team.”

    “Get a good public relations company. They can work wonders you know.” Said the tramp.

    “Are you for real?” Said the dark stranger.

    “Humankind has been asking that one for centuries. But seriously you should consider the PR thing.” Said the tramp

    Unable to contain himself, Dylan gives a snort of laughter. The two men look again in his direction.

    The Devil ponders heavily on what to do.

    “What do you want me to do?” He asks the tramp.

    “Middle east! Northern Ireland! America and Russia. Terrorism.....”

    “Stop right there! I have done all that and worse. You know what happens when we leave them alone. They work it out. Give them time to stop hating one another and they will work it out. They will settle their differences. Compromise. Do what ever it takes to stop killing one another and live in peace together.” Said Lucifer.

    “And then what?” Snorted the tramp.

    “You tell me. Its your grand design.”

    “Do you want to know what will happen. They stop believing! Thats what happens. No God! No religion! They become worse than aethiests. What happens to aethiests? They live like they don’t care. Like there is no afterlife, no tomorrow. No reward, no retribution, nothing! So they take everyday as their last day and live selfishly. Taking, using, abusing, killing, euthenasing the old. Discarding the handicapped. Ignoring the poor and hungry. It will become survival of the fittest, the strongest, the cruelest. They will become absolute evil with no redemption.

    Is that what you want?” Said the tramp.

    “I say we give them a chance.”

    “No! Never!” Said the tramp banging the table. The cups jump.

    “Your afraid. Your afraid they will get along fine without you. You get a kick out of their worship. Worship is your thrill. You get your high on it.”

    “Its the power of their prayer that keeps me alive. Without it, I cease to exist. If I cease to exist, then who can save them from themselves. Who? You? You only exist because I let you.” Said the tramp.

    “You could make it easier on them. I mean a tornado killed a church full of people last week. What was that all about? It was not my doing. Was it your idea of a joke?”

    “It was just the weather. I am not responsible for every puff of wind. Drop of rain or drought. Look at the way they have changed their own climate. I did not do that. They did. I put them here to look after the place not rape it of its resources, devouring the planet like cancer. They have a large responsibility to themselves to look after their own garden. That is why I need you to get back to work. Coffee break is over. Back to work Lucifer.” Said the tramp turning his knees out from under the table as if to leave.

    “I still quit. I think your wrong about them. I won’t be your instrument anymore Jahyew or is it Jehova, Allah or what ever name you go by.” Said Lucifer twisting at the giant ring on his finger.

    “Take that off and you will break your bond with me.” Said the tramp.

    Lucifer licked and sucked his knuckle desperately trying to lubricate the ring but it seemed to grow tighter as he struggled.

    “Humans need hope. What gives them hope? Adversity creates the circumstances for them reach out for help from the divine when all else fails. It is through their prayer, their worship, their offering and sacrifice that we exist. They need us. Without a little adversity, how could they understand the concept or know what hope is.” Said the tramp.

    “Stay your tongue!” Said Lucifer finally tearing the ring over his knuckle with a grinding crunch. Holding the ring in his palm, he tilted it letting ring fall onto the table with a heavy thunk.

    “What have you done?” Whispered the tramp.

    “How beautiful. I feel pain.” Said Lucifer clutching his cracked knuckle.

    “What have you done?” The tramp whispered staring at the ring.

    Lucifer stood to leave. A great relief swept across him. Centuries of emotion rose up from deep inside. Laughing like a maniac he staggered from the cafe. His laughter fading down the street as he waded his way to a new life.

    Dylan hid behind the pages of his newspaper, turning a page as if everything was normal. In the distance he heard the screech of tyres followed by a thump. The laughter had suddenly stopped. 

    A finger bent over the top of his newspaper. The tramps face appeared above it briefly before he tore the newspaper in two. A flash of fire as bright as sunlight blinded Dylan for a few seconds. Blinking, rubbing his eyes, his vision settled on the man before him. The tramp was gone. Now a tall gentleman dressed in a fine cream linen suit stood before him bearing an ebony cane with an angel mounted on it. The man’s face was concealed by a wide rimmed hat. Slowly he looked up at Dylan. Dylan realised it was the tramp’s face in nicer clothing.

    “Hello Dylan. I’ve got a job for you.” He said  opening a red neckerchief. Wrapped inside was an ornately decorated gold ring with an enormous ruby mounted on it.

    “I think your just the man I’m looking for.”

 

                                                                                                         THE END

 

 

     

 

    

    

    

 

    

    

 

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