The Temple (9 page)

“Yes, of course. We even know
the exact time.”

“But when I was at school they
told us something about evolution. I can’t quite remember how that
worked, but…”

“Good heavens, you mustn’t
believe such childish nonsense. This so called theory of evolution
is a fiendish prank, a hoax made by satanists to confuse the true
believers and to bring discord into our harmonious society. It is
in fact a vile conspiracy concocted by the very dredges of
humanity, if one should choose to include them in the name of
humanity. But what am I talking here. Let’s go into the museum and
you will learn the truth about the world.”

Sycko eagerly followed Jeremiah
into the building. They walked past the empty cash register and
went to the first exhibit. It was entitled ‘The Moment of
Creation’.

There was a beautiful painting
of God in a smart suit wearing a top hat. In one hand He was
holding a golden pocket watch that hung from a sparkling chain and
with His other hand he snapped His fingers and created the world.
Next to the painting was a small glass case containing the golden
pocket watch.

“Just look at it, my dear
Sycko,” Jeremiah said excitedly. “The very watch God had when He
created the world. The watch stopped at just that time so we can
still see when the world was made – at a quarter past three on
Monday afternoon 6137 years ago. Isn’t it miraculous how His watch
survived all that time to come down to us so that we would be able
to see it?”

“Eh, yes certainly,” Sycko said.
“I didn’t know all that. But how did you manage to find the watch?
Surely that can’t have been easy, I mean…”

“The ways of the Lord are
mysterious, my young friend. Let us just say that the Lord in His
wisdom saw our time of need and provided as He always does. That’s
the wonderful thing about being a true believer. We know that we
always have a higher power on our side, whatever may befall.”

They walked on to the next
exhibit which showed the Earth just moments after its creation.
There was a vast miniature landscape with pleasant green fields and
woodlands. There were a surprising number of animals, from farm
animals such as hens, pigs and cows to wild animals such as
elephants and tigers to more unusual animals such as sabre tooth
cats and dinosaurs. In one part humans were tending a flock of
sheep while in another part people were hunting mammoths and a
Brontosaurus.

“I thought the dinosaurs died
out millions of years ago,” Sycko said. “Why are they together with
people?”

“What utter nonsense, Sycko.
Didn’t I just explain to you how God made the world 6137 years ago?
How could the world be millions of years old? It’s just another lie
you were told at school. It’s perfectly obvious that dinosaurs and
humans were created at the same time. Dinosaurs died out some time
after that as have many other creatures since then, that’s all. And
look at the next painting. Here you can see the very first humans
receiving the first copy of The Holy Dryvel from God Himself. And
look at the background. What can you see there?”

“A dinosaur.”

“Exactly, a dinosaur. What more
proof could you want that humans and dinosaurs coexisted in early
times. And there in the next glass case is the very same copy of
The Holy Dryvel that God once gave to us humans.”

Sycko peered into the glass
case. A thick leather bound book lay there with a black cover and
gilded words on it. The words said: The Holy Dryvel. Sycko felt
overawed at the sight of the first copy of the holy book that had
come from the very hands of the Lord Himself.

They walked on and came to the
large model of an open house. A woman was standing in the kitchen
and a stork sat perched on the chimney and dropped a baby down the
chimney. Sycko peered at the model with curiosity. “Is that where
babies come from?” he said at last. “I thought women gave birth
to…”

“Tut, tut,” Jeremiah interrupted
him. “More nonsense your head was filled with. A careful reading of
The Holy Dryvel will prove with absolute certainty and without a
doubt that the stork theory is the only correct explanation for the
appearance of babies. How anyone could ever have associated God’s
creation with such a messy and bloody event that birth would be is
beyond me. Whatever next? Maybe someone will come along that the
Earth is round or some such preposterous nonsense!”

“Isn’t it?”

Jeremiah looked irritated.
“Isn’t it what?”

“I mean, isn’t the Earth round?
My dad always had a globe at home and that was round.”

“No, no, no,” Jeremiah said with
vehemence. “This is another vile lie that may have arisen due to a
careless reading of the text. The Holy Dryvel states quite clearly
that the Earth is a disc. A disc is obviously flat and circular. It
is not round like a ball. This is a fact that has been proven time
and again by Dryvellist scientists. Why myths about the Earth being
round are still believed by some people in our day and age is
simply beyond me.”

Ashamed at his own ignorance
Sycko said nothing for a while and followed Jeremiah in silence. He
viewed numerous other exhibits that proved the creation of the
world by God or that were holy relics. Then they came to the
section entitled ‘Disbelief’.

“Now pay good attention, Sycko.
This last part of the museum may shock you, but it’s all for the
best. Trust me when I tell you that not accepting Dryvellism and
believing all it stands for is the worst thing any human could do
to himself. Look and take heed!”

Sycko swallowed hard and stepped
to the first exhibit. It was the painting of an area enclosed by
barbed wire and the ground was strewn with corpses. Below the
picture it said: These people were murdered because the murderers
did not believe in Dryvellism.

Next there was a model of the
Titanic with panic stricken passengers jumping into the freezing
water. A sign next to it read: This ship sank because there were no
Dryvellers on board.

Then Sycko saw some life size
models of people who perished in the ancient city of Pompey. The
sign read: These people were evidently not Dryvellers as God
permitted them to die in a volcanic eruption.

Sycko looked at exhibit after
exhibit showing the horrible consequences of not being a Dryveller
until he came to the last painting. It showed the disc of the Earth
and deep down below raging fires with people in them screaming in
agony. The inscription was:

The fate of those who reject
Dryvellism.

Sycko looked at the terrifying
painting with tears in his eyes unable to say anything. Master
Jeremiah saw his reaction with evident satisfaction.

“Now you see, my dear boy, just
how very important it is to follow and obey Dryvellism in all its
aspects. We may not always understand everything, the ways of the
Lord are mysterious after all and indeed, who are we to understand
God, yet the important thing is to keep essential things in mind.
Always remember what happens to those who reject Him and then do
the right thing. Will you promise me to do that?”

“Of course, Jeremiah.”

“Very good, anyway, I’ll leave
you here to enjoy the exhibition on your own for a little while
longer, if you like. I have to go home and do a few things. I’ll
pick you up later and we can go back to the temple together and
talk about the grand opening tomorrow. Would that suit you?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

When Master Jeremiah got to his
mansion he found brother James waiting at the front door.

“Why, brother James, what brings
you here? You should see me at the temple really if you need to
talk about anything.”

“What I want to talk about with
you is private and I really don’t think you’d want the others to
hear.”

Jeremiah looked at James
intently. James was a middle aged man of medium height with dark
hair and brown eyes that peered out from under bushy eyebrows. The
prominent nose in the middle of his face drew attention to
itself.

“Very well, then,” Jeremiah said
though it was clear he wasn’t happy about the intrusion into his
private life. “Come in.” He opened the door and bade James to take
a seat in the entrance hall as he was unwilling to let him enter
his private rooms.

James looked around in silence
for some time till Jeremiah got impatient.

“Well then,” Jeremiah said. “Is
there anything you want to tell me or have you just come to sit in
my home?”

James shook his head. “You have
done well for yourself, haven’t you Jeremiah? Just look at you now
living in this huge mansion. A few weeks ago all you had was a
dingy little room and now you live like a king. Even your waiting
room here is more luxurious than all the things at the temple put
together.”

“And what of it,” Jeremiah said
feeling irritated. “What is it to you? It’s none of your business.
I’m Master of the Temple after all and you’d better know your
place!” He looked angrily into James’s eyes trying to impose his
will.

James laughed. “Master of the
Temple. All you are is the master of your greed and a good life. I
believed in you. I really believed that Dryvellism was the divine
truth. But you opened my eyes. You used that big event to cheat
people out of millions with my help! And what for? Just so you can
buy yourself a huge house and live in comfort while the rest of us
live in bare rooms. But you know what, I also want the good life. I
helped you with the show and now I want my share of the money.”

Jeremiah turned red in his face.
“How dare you talk to me like that. Get back to the temple at once.
There will be consequences for your disobedience!”

“So you’re threatening me! You
know what, Jeremiah. You’re going to pay, and if I don’t get my
fair share then I’ll sell my story to the highest bidder out there
and let the whole country know what kind of fraud and cheat you
are. I’ll give you till tomorrow. Pay me or pay the price!”

James jumped up from his chair
and without waiting for any reply hurried out of the house slamming
the door shut behind him.

Master Jeremiah was incandescent
with rage. His hands trembled and his voice shook as he shouted
after James. “God curse you, James, you’ll get your just desserts,
traitor!”

Will no one rid me…?

Whoever grows angry amid
troubles

applies a drug worse than the
disease

and is a physician unskilled
about misfortunes.

Sophocles

In his anger Jeremiah forgot
about Sycko and the museum. He left his mansion in a hurry and
returned to the temple where he paced up and down the grand hall
for more than an hour. One by one the brethren gathered aghast by
the entrance to the hall and watched the Master of the Temple. They
had never seen Master Jeremiah so agitated before and could not
imagine what had gone awry. The only thing they could think of was
that there was a serious problem with the new museum. It was the
day before the grand opening after all. While they were gathering
and talking in subdued voices Jeremiah seemed oblivious to their
presence. At last one of the older brothers could bear the
uncertainty no longer and stepped up to Jeremiah.

“Master Jeremiah,” he said to no
apparent effect. “Master Jeremiah,” he said more loudly and stepped
right in front of him. “What ails you, Master Jeremiah? Is there
anything wrong at the museum?”

“Hm, what? The museum? No, no,
everything’s all right there,” Jeremiah said and noticed the
gathered brethren for the first time. “I left Sycko there in any
case, or rather I forgot him there, but it’s quite all right. We’ll
be opening tomorrow.” He noticed a pack of Dryvellers’ Fags that
Sycko had left lying by the weeping Diana and decided that a smoke
was the very thing he needed to calm his nerves. He took one out
and lit it. He inhaled deeply and spat it out the next moment
cursing. “Pox and pestilence, what’s this?” he said in disgust.

“But Master Jeremiah,” the
brother near him said. “You lit the wrong end. You burnt the
filter.”

Jeremiah looked confused and
when he realized what he’d done he started walking down the hall
again in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

Exasperated the old brother
followed him and said loudly “But Master Jeremiah, what ever is the
matter?”

Finally Jeremiah understood what
was expected from him. He stopped walking and looked at the
brethren.

“Alas, my dear brothers, this is
a sad day. Have I not always been like a father to you all? Have I
not guided you and helped you all where I could bringing you nearer
to the light of the Lord and eternal salvation? Have I not always
been fair and square and on the level with all of you? And now
this! What have I done to deserve this? Stabbed in the back! I
would never have thought it possible…”

The brethren looked horrified.
“But what has happened, Master Jeremiah? We don’t understand,”
several of them called out.

“You don’t understand, no, of
course you don’t understand. At least I hope you don’t understand.
How could you, after all? Oh, the treacherous serpent. The vile
knave! Perfidious cur to bite his master’s hand! The hand that fed
him, clothed him and was always there when he needed it. I’m
talking of Brother James. How can I call him brother. Brother he is
no more than the worst of our enemies, and to think that I trusted
him and loved him. And now that villainous traitor wants to betray
our holy and sacred temple! He wants to stab us in the back. That
enemy of God has decided to sell his soul for money. Yes, my dear
brethren, it breaks my heart to say it, but James is taking money
to betray Dryvellism!”

For a moment there was stunned
silence. Then everyone talked at once. Excited by the unheard of
news the brethren talked, argued and shouted and worked up a most
unholy rage at the evil James.