Cookbook
from Hell -all
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without the author's written permission)
PROLOGUE …and
darkness was
upon the face of the deep.
The
latch clicked quietly into place. The pre-dawn light barely reached
down the
three steps into the deli as Joshua closed the door behind him. Maybe
it was a
sign of old age but he enjoyed his morning ritual. The dark French
roast would
be a fine choice to begin this day. He smiled to himself. It had
remained his
first choice for several decades now. The light from the deli case,
with all of
the cheeses neatly wrapped in plastic, glowed across the old wooden
floor. The
meat case was dark, he’d have to fix the bulb before he
opened this morning.
Stopping at the pickle barrel he gave them all a good stir with the
large
wooden ladle. He dipped a finger into the brine and tasted it. The tang
wasn’t
quite right. More fresh dill. Selecting several sprigs from the basket
he
rolled it between his palms to crush it and let it sprinkle into the
barrel.
Another stir. Another taste. Much better.
Stepping
behind the coffee counter he selected a handful of dark beans and
dropped them
into the grinder. The sharp whine only emphasized the morning stillness.
He righted
the pot from the drying rack on the service island, tipped in the
grounds and
filled it from the instant hot water tap. After only a week he
didn’t know how
he’d managed all these years without such a convenience. What
a glorious time
to be alive, when the work was being done by the machines. It left more
time
for the people. He had a worried moment when he couldn’t find
his mug on the
drying rack. As his fingers closed around the misthrown ceramic he felt
silly
for his sigh of relief. He didn’t usually become so attached
to an object, but
it had been with him for years. According to the old Egyptian merchant
it had
belonged to his namesake. Joshua could feel the rough edges of the
letters
etched across the bottom in an archaic style of Hebrew before it was
fired. He
carried the pot, mug and a fine porcelain cup over to the table against
the
front window where he settled himself to watch the neighborhood awaken.
Only
Henri’s lights glowed in the twilight, up early baking his
bread and muffins.
Joshua could almost smell the fresh bread filling his deli racks when
it would
be delivered still hot from the oven, but the rich aroma of the coffee
said it
was ready now. Pushing down on the pot’s handle drove all of
the grounds to the
bottom. The brightening light made the dark liquid glisten as he poured
it into
his mug.
The clean
curve of the flowing coffee and the warped rim of the mug always
reminded him
of the balance between good and bad. Smooth and misshapen together.
Jericho had
marked the crossing of the Israelites into the promised land, as it had
marked
the complete razing of the Canaanite city.
He
blew on the coffee and took a
small sip. He rapidly sucked in some cool air over his scorched tongue.
Good
and bad were always mixed together to make a whole. The world was a
good place
overall, but rarely simple. He was quite pleased with it.
A woman
come out of the house entrance next to the deli and crossed over to
Henri’s
bakery. No pretensions. No flash. Simple grace. It was a pleasure to
watch her
walk. The silver that had slowly taken over her dark curls only made
her more
elegant.
She tapped
on Henri’s window. Joshua could see him come rushing from the
ovens, unlock the
door and place a small package in her hands. In payment she kissed him
on each
cheek and Henri looked at his own feet as he did every morning.
She crossed
toward the deli. When he let her in and held the door she kissed him
briefly,
but not quickly.
“Good
morning, my fair Anne.”
“Good
morning again, my handsome husband.”
Rough-jawed,
balding and a bit of a belly he knew he wasn’t, but she made
him feel so every
morning. He stopped her as she moved to sit and pulled her to him. He
could
feel her surprise as he held her tightly and breathed in the fresh
scent of her
hair. How she managed to always smell of a hint of cyclamen he would
never
understand.
Anne leaned
back to look at him, “What is it Joshua?”
“I am
reminded of how much I love you.”
Her smile
and warm hand on his cheek were all he needed. He ignored the crinkling
sound
of Henri’s package while he held her a moment longer.
As she sat
he kissed her on the back of the neck before crossing to the other side
of the
table. Anne opened the package to reveal two flaky almond croissants,
albeit a
bit flatter than normal. Joshua poured her coffee and handed her a
paper napkin
from the holder on the table.
He pointed
over the 305 building, “Look, the first ray of sunlight
breaking through.” The
light was filling the world and he tried to find a new word for it.
“Suffused?”
Joshua
looked at the light rising through the scattering mist revealing the
clear fall
air. He smiled and nodded to her, “Suffused is a good word
for this morning.
Thank you.” Her smile stopped short of her blue-gray eyes. He
sat forward in
his seat. She was worried about something.
“What is
it?”
She looked
at the table and slowly turned her coffee cup around and around by the
handle.
Reaching out he took her hand, warm and soft, in his.
“What?”
She looked
at him, “How much longer, Joshua?”
“How much
longer what?”
Her look
accused him of being a bit dense. He blinked several times trying to
think of
what had taken too long, “I need a little help on this one,
Anne.”
“Joshua? We
can’t keep on this way. It has been too long.”
“Time is a
very slippery thing.” She scowled slightly at his evasion.
The steam rose from
his coffee through the dawn light. He was aware of her slender hand
still in
his. She watched him with a very familiar look of hope and love. He
thought of
her patience with him over the years. There sat his warped mug to
remind him of
something. The sunrise had revealed the Hebrew word
‘joy’ worked deep into the
glaze. Oh.
To
do good works out in the world
despite the risk of best intentions going awry. It had been a long time
since
he’d retreated into this deli. He could feel a tightness in
his chest at the
thought of changing their life.
Anne
laughed and laced her fingers into his, “We are very content
here, but you are
not as happy as you used to be. Yes, you do enjoy life, yet you used to
revel
in it. Remember
those years in the
Mediterranean.”
That had
been long ago. He held tightly onto the reality of her hand as the
uncertainty
swirled around him. He had built this lifestyle very carefully. Many
people
crossed his doorway to be fed a little food and maybe leave a little
happier,
but to step back into his old role was an unnerving thought.
“You don’t
have to do it all at once.”
He looked
at her sharply, “Are you sure you can’t read my
mind?”
“Your face
is all the mind reading equipment I need after all this time. Joshua,
you must
try to be complete. Look at your mug. You don’t have to be
perfect to be
successful, but you must try.”
Somehow he
kept forgetting. He’d finally given up completely because it
had become second
nature to pursue perfection as an attainable goal. Perhaps it was time
to try
again. And, in a little way, he knew exactly where to begin.
Taking a
sip from the warped rim of his very imperfect mug he felt its heat
trickle across
his tongue and down his throat. The line of fire settled in his belly
and a
feeling of warmth spread through him. He looked into Anne’s
eyes, the color of
a misty morning half an hour past sunrise. Her entire face radiated
with her
smile, but her eyes. He’d fallen in love with those eyes.
DAY
ONE
And God Said, Let there be light:
And there was light.
And God saw the
light, that it was good:
And God divided the light from the darkness.
Light
shone into the otherwise complete darkness from two sources. The first
cast her
shadow in the middle of a square of light on the floor before her and
the other
framed someone’s silhouette in the opposite doorway. As her
eyes adjusted she
could make out a great, circular platform over a dozen strides across.
In the
middle there were two desks with computer consoles side by side but
placed in
opposite directions allowing the users to face each other. As she
stepped
forward onto the dark floor the light behind her began to fade. She
turned barely
in time to see it disappear completely. Flinching at the finality of
the door
closing she reached out to touch it. Nothing lay beyond the edge of the
platform. Black
spots floated before her eyes. Only void and darkness were upon the
face of the
deep. She turned back slowly and saw a man standing beyond the two
computers.
His doorway had closed as well. By the glow now emanating from the disc
she
could see he was an average looking man with his hair starting to gray.
“Where
did you come from?” His
brow furrowed as he looked down into the light and back at her.
“I don’t know.
How about you?” She
thought for a moment and realized she didn’t know either.
They had been cut off
from their past, fully grown with no memories. It didn’t seem
right, something
was missing. No one remembered their birth but this was ridiculous. He
knelt and rapped the floor with his knuckles. A hollow ringing filled
the air
out of all proportion to the gentleness of the tap. Like some great
bell, a
great potential seemed trapped within waiting for release. Rising
to his feet he walked over to one of the desks. He wore a plain white
button
down shirt, slacks and loafers. Looking down at herself she saw a linen
shirt,
bright blue, dark jeans and sandals. The
man set his hand on a white glass plate next to the screen. “I
don’t understand. Nothing happened.” “What?
You thought you were going to fill the void?” She walked to
the other desk and
looked at the computer console. Place
hand on plate to initialize system. She
did this to no
effect. “Maybe if we do it together?” They
sat and placed their right hands on the white plates simultaneously. A
huge
burst of light flashed from everywhere at once. She ducked her head and
looked
around. There was no threat, simply light everywhere. “Oh
my. Never have I seen such beautiful light,” his voice was
filled with awe.
Standing slowly he spread his arms wide as if to hold it. It
shone all around them. It even glittered below and showed the great
floor on
which they stood to be clear. She froze in her chair for a moment
before
catching her breath. The platform remained solid beneath her feet, but
she
couldn’t see it. The man’s footsteps rang as he
danced surrounded by the light.
She almost warned him as he moved too close to where the edge must
still be,
but his dance turned and brought him in a great circle around their
desks and
back to his chair. The white hand plates they had touched were simple
plastic,
connected to the consoles with a small wire. The computer
couldn’t have done
this on its own. He must have done it. His
mumbling about it being the most glorious vision that had ever come to
him
confirmed the fact. She forced herself to look down between her sandals
and
into the light beyond the floor. Glorious wasn’t a bad word
for it. With
such ability to create he must know something more, “Can you
remember anything
of the past?” Again
he paused and frowned, “No, I can’t.”
Leaning forward he rested his hand on
hers. His touch was warm and gentle. “But that
doesn’t make it any less
wonderful,” he smiled brightly. Whether at her or the light
she couldn’t be
sure. He
waved an arm upward and nearly swiped his console off the desk,
“No, fantastic
is a better word, or perhaps miraculous.” He turned to his
screen as if eager
to do something else. She read the lines of text on her terminal. System
startup initiated. Universe now available for
configuration. You have the ability to modify and
remove items within system. You are hereby designated as, ‘The
Devil’. She
was the Devil. If this was a sign of her luck she was in deep trouble. “What
are you?” His
smile was huge as he read the words on his screen. “I’m
God. What fun. It would seem I have been blessed with the powers of
creation.”
He tapped a few keys, “This is simply amazing.” A
patch of the light turned a shade of purple she’d never even
imagined existed.
He continued tapping away at his console. The
light swirled itself into stars that started to spread randomly
throughout the
space around them. That was very nice until he next started smashing
them into
each other. She
shook her head and tried not to smile. How like a man to build
something this
incredible and immediately start busting it all up as a game. Typing a
few
commands herself she formed the stars into neat, well-organized
galaxies. He
shattered a few of them. She wanted to slap his hands away from the
keyboard
until she realized that the few mangled ones emphasized the symmetry of
all the
others. The contrast of the subtlety of the change versus the power of
it sank
into her bones. She could make changes, but he could make it art. Of
course, there was nothing to stop her from trying, the universe was
still
mostly a blank slate. She leaned forward in her chair as she formulated
the
command to create a new shape out of the dark, since he had used all of
the
light to make the stars and she’d never touch those now. Invalid
command. The Devil has insufficient
system rights to perform creation operations. “Great. Are
you telling me I can’t create squat? All I can do is shape
his creations?” The
console didn’t respond.“Hey, God.
How about if we work together on this universe?”
He kept
tapping his keyboard and glancing to see what he’d created
next. She stood and
stretched before going around to look over his shoulder.
Scatter
range of visible spectrum across star
colors, emphasis on white, blue and red. The computer responded with a
simple, Done. The stars shifted from all
white to a breathtaking array of colors. The blue was almost a
crystalline
white and the red was deep and ruddy.
It was
stunning. She looked at him to see if his appearance had changed, if
there was
some outward sign of such talent. People with artistic vision were
intimidating, she would never have thought to do such a thing. God kept
typing,
no different from when she’d first seen him minutes ago. She
had to laugh at
herself. He might be the artistic dreamer, but it was the realists who
made it
happen. And that certainly described her. “You have created
one of the most
beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”
He waved a
hand negligently, “It was nothing.” A quick command
and a glass of wine
appeared by his hand. Taking a sip he glanced at the heavens. She poked
him lightly on the arm. “How about we take a break and talk
over what to do. If
we could simply…”
“What I
need next is…,” he talked right over her,
“water. Yes. That would be a good.
Things could grow in it.” He set his glass on the desk and
resumed typing.
She patted
him on the shoulder. He briefly squeezed her hand between his cheek and
shoulder as he typed. Maybe she should let him finish a few of his
ideas. The
moment she removed her hand he seemed to forget about her existence.
Walking back to her chair, she sat
and stared at the console. The details of the limits to her powers
still glowed
on the screen. The realists were the doers everywhere except here. Here
the
dreamers created. She wanted to pound the desk that she
couldn’t do anything
except sweep up after God. There had to be some way around this.
She
leaned back as the heavens
slowly changed around her. The stars began to twinkle and the galaxies
took on
more character as he varied the star sizes. Every once in a while
she’d fix
something he’d botched, like forgetting to make the planets
spin to keep them
from becoming charred on one side and frozen on the other. There was no
flicker
of reaction from him at her edits.
“Such a
flake. How do I get the attention of the ultimate one track man?
Hey.” She
leaned forward and shook his arm, “Hey.”
He looked
at her for several seconds before blinking in recognition.
“Oh, hi.
I’ll be with you in a moment. There’s one more
thing I must try. Why don’t you
make something yourself? It’s great fun.”
“Because I
can’t,” her voice grated as it came out.
He stopped
and looked at her in surprise. Leaning over he took her hand. His eyes
truly
focused on her for the first time since this had started. No father had
ever
looked with such care, “Take the risk. You never know what
you can do until you
try. Have some fun.”
He held her
hand a moment longer before turning back to the console and completing
his next
command. And another. And another.
With great
compassion he hadn’t heard a thing she’d said. She
waited until her head
started to hurt from holding still.
Fine.
If he
wants to run the universe
without me he’s welcome to. She typed a quick command,
reached over and grabbed
his glass of wine before pressing the enter
key. Putting her
feet on the desk she leaned back in her chair as the great circular
platform
shattered in half between their desks. He didn’t even seem to
notice as they
slowly drifted apart in the swirling universe, “Here we part
ways. God and the
Devil, exiled together, hereafter separated.” She raised her
glass in a toast
toward his diminishing figure, a small man, a computer desk and half of
the
shattered platform. She sipped the wine. At least it was a nice vintage.
