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The Master’s Hand, Part
2:
Ascension Day:
By Markus Thyme
It was Ascension Day in elect
suite twelve. Sixteen-year-old Alfred was wide awake. He lay flat on his back
on his comfortable cot. It was still in the cool of the morning, but already
sweat glistened on his huge, nude body.
Alfred turned his head both
ways as far as he could. No matter how he turned, he could still see his
immense belly. The large roles of
fat around his neck prevented him from turning very far. Even if he could turn
way around, like skinny old John, he fancied he would still be able to see his
belly, for it stuck out on the sides too.
Alfred laughed at the thought
of the contrast between himself and John. The laugh sent tremors rippling
through his fat and he laughed at that too. He slapped his belly soundly with
both hands and laughed again.
Who had more reason to laugh
and be happy? Who was going to Heaven today? Not skinny old John. He was not of
the elect. Poor John. He was much too old and too skinny. Only young fat
healthy people went to Heaven, like Alfred and his friend Jimmy.
Thinking of his friend,
Alfred strained his neck and turned his head to the side. With great effort, he
was just able to see the rise of a belly, fully as large as his own. I was
shaking in silent mirth. Jimmy had heard him laughing.
“Are you awake like me
Jimmy?”
The laugh became audible and
Jimmy let it run it’s course before answering.
“I’ve been awake
as long as you, Alfred, and I’ve heard you enjoying your belly.”
“Yes, yes, enjoying my
belly, my huge belly; especially today, Jimmy, cause it’s Ascension Day.”
“I didn’t forget,
Alfred. Did you think I’d forget that today is the day we go to
Heaven?”
“Oh, ooooh, oh! Heaven,
so we can be like the Calanians.”
“We’ll have to
leave this place,” reminded Jimmy.
Alfred looked uneasy for a
moment. His watery blue eyes rolled about some, but then his smile returned.
“Yes, but
there’ll be an even better place for us in Heaven,” ho countered.
“Old John won’t
be there,” worried Jimmy.
Again the troubled look
haunted Alfred. “That’s right I guess. Only us elect can go to Heaven.”
They both looked very serious
and nodded in unison.
“Poor old John,”
sighed Alfred. “I bet he’d like to come along.”
“He’s too old and
skinny and that’s that,” declared Jimmy.
Again they both nodded
piously.
After a pause, Alfred said,
“I wish Old John could come with us. He’s nice. Maybe they’ll
have a mean Old John in Heaven.”
Jimmy pondered that for a
while. He screwed up his fleshy face until his eyes nearly disappeared into the
folds.
“But we’ll be
nearly as good as the Calanians and, if he’s mean, uh — uh — we’ll
be mean right back!”
“Yes, yes, we’ll
be mean right back,” giggled Alfred.
They both lay silent then,
each one lost in the dreams of his own coming power.
All along the suite, the
others were waking up. They were waking from happy dreams to happier dreams of
Ascension Day and impending glory.
When John walked in most of
them were still lying, belly up, on their cots. He closed the door and the
sound was their signal. All down the room, huge youngsters began to move. They struggled
and groaned and grunted to achieve a sitting position on the sides of their
cots. In a normal day, they would have remained so throughout the day, playing
simple games, talking, and eating. They would be continuously feed, cleaned,
and attended by John and his crew. This morning, all fifty fat, grinning faces
were turned toward John in anticipation.
“Good morning, Honored
Elect,” he said.
His practice eye, noticed the
beginnings of questions in the simple faces and he headed them off with
upraised palm.
“Yes, it really is
Ascension Day,” he said. “Now, if you will be still, I’ll
explain everything that we must do.”
As usual, a series of fierce
“Shhhhh’s” rippled through the room. John waited patiently
for the sound to die out.
“Now, it’s all
really very simple,” he continued. “In a few minutes, some trucks
will come to carry us over to the restricted area. Your regular workers and I
will be along to help you on and off the trucks. We’ll stay right with
you until we get over there.
“Once there, a Calanian
master will be there to take care of you. All you must do is listen and do what
he says.”
Alfred was the first to
interrupt. “Aren’t we to have anything to eat before we go?”
he appealed.
“No, you will get to
eat later,” replied John.
Once the first question was
asked, a barrage of others were hurtled at John. He handled them all with the
patience born of experience.
“No, you won’t
need sandals. You won’t have to walk far. — Yes, you will be naked.
You won’t be in the sun much at all. — I don’t know why the
Calanians wear clothes all the time. — I don’t know how far it is
to Heaven. You will find our soon. — No, I can’t go with you. Only
the elect can go.”
With the questions and other
delays, it was later than John had hoped before he turned his charges over to
the Calanian. At last it was done though. John looked on like a benevolent
father as they marched with solemn awe to their destiny.
He was just turning to leave,
when he felt the hand on his shoulder. A thrill of fear brushed his spine for
he knew it was the master’s hand. He turned a craven face up to those
wise, sad, compassionate eyes, His voice, when it came, was a dry scratch,
barely audible amongst the sounds of life.
“It’s not time
yet, is it, sir?”
The Calanian looked even
sadder and John shrank from his touch.
There was a fleeting thought
to run, but where? Images rippled through his mind. He thought to beg, but the
plea died on his lips. It was no good. There was an answer for every appeal. He
knew the answers. He bowed his head and stood trembling before his master.
He would have wet his
trousers, but humans don’t wear trousers and he urinated on his feet. He
stood there trembling and watched it happen, and he was shamed. From that
shame, a grain of courage grew.
‘I am a human,’
he thought. ‘I am an overseer of humans. What is this I am doing? I’m
standing like a dog before the master. I should not tremble and shake and piss
on my feet. I should not think to run away like a novice. I am a human and I
should act like one. The end has come for me. The hand of my master is merciful
and swift. For the sake of all humans, I should trust my master’s
hand.’
John straightened his back
for the last weary time, He lifted his eyes and smiled sadly up to his
master’s eyes. Then he took one last look at his charges, those young
elect who would carry the name of earth to the stars. He trembled very little.
The elect marched to the door
one by one. When it was Alfred’s turn to board, he lifted his chin and
pushed through the door with a huge smile. After that, things went very
quickly. He may have seen Jimmy come through the door behind him. It is
doubtful though. It was getting very dark and it is very difficult to see
anything when you are hanging upside down from a conveyor with your own blood
rushing over your face. It’s certain he did not see the tank of boiling
water, or feel it either.
Bleeding from the jugular is
a very quick and almost painless way to die. Even the Calanian society for the
prevention of cruelty to animals has agreed.
“This is a very Calane
way to butcher an animal,” they said.
They always have an inspector
present for they are ever watchful of the packing industry.
As a matter of record, Alfred
dressed out at 192 pounds. Jimmy went at 179. This is a great credit to the
Calanian breeding methods. John of course, was too tough for anything but Zork
food. A Zork is that cute small animal which some Calanians keep as house pets.
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