“Isn’t it beautiful?” Gabriel repeats, this time in real-time.
I’m speechless. He seems to understand. We all continue to watch the last few shots of the film.
“So, there’s our present to you Peter. We’ve got your revenge on the little prick for you. It was the least we could do. And we knew how much it would mean to you. And, as a secondary gift, we’re showing you the potential of it all. But for now, back to you.”
“You’re murderers?” I asked, when I finally found speech again. “That’s what you wanted to show me?”
“Oh come on Peter, it’s not like you’re going to miss the little fucker. Be honest, it was almost a civic duty to rid the world of him. You should be thanking us, not judging us.”
Surprisingly it was Natalie, not Gabriel, who admonished me thus. I turned and looked at her. I tried to understand what she was saying, and, I must admit to my eternal shame, it did make sense. I did hate Roger enough for that, perhaps not enough to do it myself, but certainly enough that I couldn’t mourn his passing, nor easily condemn those that facilitated it.
“Okay,” I said, feeling a bit afraid of them, and also of myself and the ease with which I could come to accept, and perhaps even be thankful for, their actions. What had Gabriel said? You can’t be just a bit amoral, it was either/or. Perhaps I was amoral also. I just never realized.
“Hey, Peter, it’s a bit to take in, we know,” said Gabriel, ever soothing. I looked at him. Mephistopheles or the dark lord himself? Of course, I thought, of course we’d find him in the Inferno. I looked at Natalie. Of course I’d find both of them there. Oh well, as in that great classic, the only way out is the way in.
“And we did make a bit of a show of it,” Gabriel continued, “Because we thought you’d enjoy it.”
“It had flair,” I admitted, “I’d give you four stars. But I’m kind of a captive audience in more ways than one.”
“That’s true” Gabriel conceded. ‘Nevertheless, an appreciative one I think, and one matured and advanced enough to accept it for what it is. Which is just a little gift, a little secret, about a little life that no-one will miss being cut mercifully short. And also, a bit of a performance for you to see what we can do on a grander scale.”
And here it was, coming down the mountain, whatever it was.
“Which is?” I asked.
“Which is to do this sort of thing for profit.”
(c) Helen M Valentina 2015, All Rights Reserved