Herbert Meets God
Justin Kemppainen
Smashwords Edition
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***
Herbert Meets God
When Herbert Englewood was told that the world would come to a startling end in the year 2015, he laughed.
Well, Herbert, who’s laughing now? Me, that’s who!
Okay, all right, so the world did not exactly end, per se. After all, I like the world. I like watching the curious little people scurrying about, running through their daily lives. I even like to give them the occasional nudge. Oh, how confounded they get!
“Miracles!” They cry.
“Guess again!” I cry back.
Just for the record, it was not I that initiated the end of the world- excuse me, the not-exactly end- Oh, right. I should probably clear this up. There was just a tidy little cataclysmic event that caused a major change in the population, that’s all. A major change being plentiful, to, um… zero. Happens all the time, really.
I warned them. Well, I warned him: Herbert, that is, not that he could do anything about it. Good old, boring accountant Herbert. Middle-aged, divorced, balding: a veritable playground of intriguing cynicism. The perfect little companion to accompany me whilst we stomp through the wreckage. I picked him out not too long ago. Just don’t tell anyone. (Especially Herbert).
I probably shouldn’t have let him live, but it’s going to be ever so boring waiting for the sprout of intelligent life to crop up. Oh, I mustn’t force it along, as much as I want to. Use a light touch. Have to always use a light touch. Can’t just start flinging creations everywhere. Have to let the laws of nature run their course.
Pah. Boring. Let the cities grind back into dust, lush vegetation burst through and consume the highways, the golf courses refill with their original, swampy muck. Let nature run its blah, blah, blah. It’s dull. I’ve seen it before.
That’s why I kept Herbert, you see. So that at least someone can know that I really did get the last laugh. Tee-hee!
It took me a while to find him. No, I’m just kidding, it really didn’t. He’s right here. Right now, I’m pretty high up. The city that Herbert wanders in is a hollowed out shell, buildings broken and collapsed with rubble everywhere.
In my best Don LaFontaine voice, I say, “In a world covered in desolation, Herbert Englewood is the last man alive. When he was told that the world would come to a startling end in 2015, he la-”
“Hello? Who’s there? Who said that?” Herbert yells, scampering across the rubble. His worn leather shoes catch on a stone, and he flops down onto the debris-littered streets, thudding hard and probably bruising something. Ouch.
“Don’t interrupt me!” I say, with a ‘glaring-angrily’ tone. So rude! I clear my throat, or would, if I had one. “When he was told that the world would come to a startling end in 2015, he laugh-”
“Hello?!” Herbert cries frantically, still awkwardly clamoring to his feet. He catches a torn shred of his suit pants under his heel as he stands, ripping a long seam up the side. Not noticing, he continues running. “Please, is someone out there?” He looks around desperately at the dilapidated, hollow shells of the buildings.
I sigh. “You’re a very rude man, Herbert. Here I am, the one who saved your life, and you can’t even spare five seconds to let me spea-”
“Please! Whoever you are!” Herbert yells. “Just tell me where you are, I’ll come to you!” Dear Me, he looks so relieved. “I thought I was alone out here. Hello? Hello!”
Grumbling, I answer. “Yes, Herbert, over here.” It’s a lie, actually. I’m not using any physical manifestation, so really I’m not anywhere, exactly. All he’s going to get is confused. Because he can’t see me.
Oh, but he’s so very eager. He’s clamoring over the remains of a collapsed building, hoping to see my shining face on the other side. Tee-hee! I’m not there.
“What the- where are you?” He shouts from the top of the rubble pile, confusion spreading across his grime-smudged face.
Floating over his shoulder (well, not exactly floating, per se, I don’t float, I just sort of move around independently of natural laws like gravity, barometric pressure, wind, etc). Anyway, floating over his shoulder, I shout, “Here I am!”
In a most satisfyingly comical fashion, Herbert jumps into the air, startled, and possibly deafened, by my loud yell. I’m figuratively rolling with laughter (I can’t exactly roll without a physical presence). Herbert, on the other hand, quite literally rolls, tumbling violently down the hill of hard… sharp… broken stones.
Oops.
Oh geez, he’s bleeding. And crying. Oh geez. “Are you okay?” I ask.
He doesn’t really respond. Well, unless you count a creative expulsion of weeping and cursing a response. I don’t, but that’s just me.
“Hey, c’mon there, Herb. It’ll be okay.” I say to him, consoling. “You mind if I call you Herb?”
Instead of a rational, intelligent response, he just cuts loose a really loud, piercing scream and continues to sob. All right, I’m going to take a look. Oh wow. That’s a lot of broken bones! “You really should get more calcium, Herb.” I say, lecturing.
He continues to respond by screaming, cursing, and yelling. I’m not sure if he really knows I’m here or not; he doesn’t seem to be listening. Hmm… that’s a lot of blood.
Okay, so I feel a little bit bad about it. Just a little smidge of power here… there… aaaaand… done!
I watch patiently, as Herbert continues to cry out in agony for a few seconds. Eventually, his wailing tapers off, like a garden sprinkler losing pressure, until he finally realizes that there isn’t any pain; he’s completely intact.
Amazed, he stands up. His clothing is still ripped in several places. Fresh, gooey blood still drips down his arms and legs, but it doesn’t well up and dribble any further. The wounds are gone, “Okay, so-” I start to say.
“Blaagh!” He yells, startled again, whirling around. “Who’s there? This isn’t funny!”
Indignant, I snap back, “It’s a little funny!”
“Aaaaagh!” He spins around again, flailing his arms at the empty air.
“Are you some kind of crazy person?” I ask him, “You seem a little-”
“Waaaagh!” He yells, still spastically swinging his arms around.
“Stop interrupting-”
“Gaaagh!” He’s relentless! And rude!
“SIT!” I command with a booming voice.
A shockwave pulses out from where I hover, knocking Herb to the ground. Well, by knocking, I mean hurling. He flies through the air and plows into the dusty concrete, unmoving. Dangit, not again!
He slowly sits up, but he’s not really hurt, just a little stunned. Phew.
I tentatively come forward as he sits there with unblinking, wide eyes and shaking with fear. “Hey, c’mon Herb.” I brace myself for the interrupting scream, but nothing comes out. “Snap out of it, buddy.” Still nothing, no reaction. “Hey, ignoring people is really rude, you know.” I say, irritated.
Slowly, calmly, still not blinking, Herbert rises to his feet. He swallows hard, murmuring to himself. “Not real. Not real. Not real.”
This is too much. “Hey! How would you like it if I said you weren’t real?” I say angrily. “I could make that happen, you know!”
Herbert’s lower lip quivers, “I’m losing my mind,” he whispers, “Oh God, oh God, please help me…”
The nerve! “Why would I help you when you keep ignoring me. Herb.” I snap.
Herb fades out of his trance. “Wait, what?” He asks, unthinking.
“You know, you’re awfully slow for a human.” I remark. “I said, ‘I’m not going to help you if-”
Herb puts out his hands in a reassuring, ‘stay-away-from-me’ sort of gesture. “Look, I’m very sorry, but you’re clearly some kind of desperate manifestation of my desire not to be completely alone here, so, if you don’t mind, I’m just going to ignore you until my brain sorts itself out.”
I sigh, focusing my power. Black clouds instantly rush in from all sides, darkening the sky. A single lightning bolt bursts from above and strikes the ground, inches from Herbert. I freeze the bolt in place, in its bright white, so that the jagged glow tears through the air from the sky to the ground. Herbert screams for a moment in fear, but then, realizing no danger, he takes a step back, marveling at the immobile streak of lightning.
“I’d have birds fluttering around it, but they’re all dead.” I say.
“W-what? You did this?” Herb sputters.
“Sure, you didn’t believe I-”
“Wait, y-you are real?” Herb asks, disbelieving.
So rude! “Of course I’m real! And you keep interrupting me!”
Herb holds a hand out, grasping around, “I… I can’t see you.”
If I had eyes, I would roll them. “Of course not, silly. I’m not using any sort of physical presence. My essence is floating right here. Well, I’m not really floating, per se, since that would make me some kind of vaporous fog, or something. You kind of need a physical presence to-”
“You’re invisible?” He blurts.
“Stop interrupting me!” I shout. “And not really! I just don’t have any physical manifestation.”
He continues pawing at the air, as though he could find me just by doing that. “Wh-what are you?”
“I am a being of energy that takes a role in watching over the day to day operations of-”
“E-energy? Does that mean that…?” Suddenly, Herb spins around and starts walking away, very quickly, as though retreating.
I follow him. “Where are you going, Herb?”
“Don’t call me, Herb; I hate that name.” He snaps. “And don’t talk to me. You’re not real. I’m just hallucinating, and you’re not supposed to talk to your hallucinations.”
Sheepishly, I say, “Look, if you’re still mad about that fall, I’m really sorry that you broke all those bones.”
Herb blinks, grasps at the air again, his hand passing through where I’d be if I existed in a physical state, and says, “Broken bones?”
“Yeah, you were in pretty bad shape.” Memory of pain is so fleeting to these people. “That was only five minutes ago.” I consider for a moment. “Or was it five hours?”
Herb gets a confused look, “Yeah, I remember falling down, and it hurt like hell for a minute, there.” He wipes some of the gooey, half-coagulated blood off his arm, staring at the pink, unharmed skin beneath. “But, if I was so badly hurt, and, as you say, if I had so many broken bones…” He trails off.
Eagerly, I say, “Yes?”
“Then why am I not hurt anymore?” He finishes.
“Oh, that’s easy,” I say, “I healed you.”
Herb’s breath catches in his throat, and he looks sick to his stomach. “A-are you,” he pauses, gritting his teeth, “G… God?”
Proudly, I reply, “Yes, I am. Or at least that’s what some people call me.”
Herb falls to the ground, dropping to a sitting posture. He stares off with intense, wide eyes and mouth hanging open just slightly. Hey, I didn’t do anything this time!
Herb gibbers, working his mouth up and down but not actually saying anything coherent. Finally, he manages to spit out, “Okay, so… you’re God.”
“Yes.”
“The Heavenly Father.”
“Yep.”
“The Righteous Lord.”
“Uh-huh.”
Herb nods. “The Creator.”
“Well, a creator-.”
“The Almighty One.” Herb cut in.
“Sort of.”
Herb raises an eyebrow. “Sort of?
“It’s more like the Almighty Nineteen-billion, really. I’m one of a lot of super-beings. We manage separate corners, sections, and planets of the universe,” I say with a shrugging tone.
“Nineteen-billion.” Herb repeats.
“Yeah.”
“There’s really that many.” Herb says with a deadpan voice.
“You bet!”
Herb scrunches his face up as though this is too much to consider. “So… what you’re telling me… is…” He hesitates. “There are more things like you.”
“Oh sure. Lots.”
Herb whispers, eyes wide with fear, “We’re all doomed.”
Slightly offended, I say, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Still with wide eyes, Herb frowns and shakes his head slowly, rising to his feet, “Oh nothing, nothing. I’m just a little surprised to find that God exists, has several billion siblings, and has the temperament of a ten-year old.”
“That’s not very nice!” I boom, a wave of heavy wind rushing at Herb. He reels against it, but remains upright. “You shouldn’t say things like-”
“Well what do you expect?” Herb yells, an unexpected anger rising to the surface. “Everything in this city and maybe the world has been destroyed, I haven’t seen another person alive in three days, and the first intelligent being I come upon happens to be the God, and all he does for the first five minutes of our meeting is try to kill me!”
Annoyed, I retort, “Hey, I saved your life, how about a little gratitude?”
“Look at me!” He screams, plucking at his shredded clothing and wiping drying blood on his torn pants. “This is your fault!”
“Well, the blood-stains maybe, but I fixed-”
Herb whirls around arms wide, gesturing all around, “No! All of this! How could you let this happen? You’re God; you’re supposed to save everyone! Not let them die.
“I’m not supposed to interfere!”
“Why the hell not?”
“Laws of nature!” I yell back.
Herb throws his hands up in frustration, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Follow the laws of nature. No creation flinging. I’m not supposed to interfere, so I never have before.” I say.
“Well, that’s a load of-” Herb stops, mouth hanging open, “Wait, what do you mean before? This has happened before?”
“Yes.” I say. “Lots. But this time, I kept someone around.” I drop my voice to a whisper. “That would be you.”
Herb’s eyes go wide once again, and he lets himself fall backwards once again, this time all the way to the ground. He lies there, flat on his back, staring vacantly at the sky. “I’m still here…” he says hopelessly.
“Yeah! I saved you.” I say, proudly.
Herb sits up and stammers, “B-but why just save me? Why not save everyone?”
Slightly ashamed, I reply, “Well, I really shouldn’t have kept you, but it gets so boring waiting for life to spring up again. Plus, this way, you get to know who had the last laugh.”
Confused, Herb closes his eyes and responds, “What?”
“The last laugh. I told you this was coming, and you laughed.”
Herb squishes up his face, in intense thought. Finally, after a moment, he says, “That was real?”
“Yep.” I say. “So there. Hah!”
“I thought that was a dream.” Herb remains flabbergasted.
“Nope.”
“But then…” he gets a horrified look on his face, “could I have done anything to stop it?”
“Of course not.”
“Oh.” Herb looks relieved. “So… there’s really nothing left, is there?”
“Well, there’s a lot of wreckage-”
“No one left then.” Herb interjects.
“There’s you and me.” I say, happily.
Herb sighs. “Great.” He remains silent for a moment. Several moments actually. The silence drags on for a long time, and I keep quiet, letting him mull things over. Eventually, he asks, “So what are we going to do now?”
“I dunno.” I reply. “You wanna play checkers?” I’m already summoning a checkerboard into existence as I say it. This should be fun!
Herb winces. “Yeah, I guess so.” He says with a relenting tone. He perks up, struck with a thought. “Hey wait, wouldn’t you just know every move and its outcome? How could I win?”
“I’m not clairvoyant. I can’t see the future.” I say, condescending.
Herb rubs his chin. “Then… how did you know that this was going to happen?”
“What? That we were going to play checkers? I didn’t know; I just asked if you wanted-”
“No, no! Not that!” Herb snaps. “How did you know that the world was going to end?”
“Huh?” I respond.
Herb sighs. “How is it that you, the Almighty One of this chunk of the universe, knew that this planet, called Earth, would lose its population?”
“Ohhh! Well, that’s easy.” I say. “Something like this always happens in 2015.
For the millionth time, Herb’s eyes go wide and he says again, “What?!” This time seems more forceful.
I respond, trying to be helpful. “By the intelligent life calendar, because the dominant species always comes up with a calendar, the population of the planet always gets purged in the year or equivalent rough time span of 2015. Even when the system used something like ‘fortnights’ to measure time. Now that was confusing. Let me tell you-”
“No, no, no.” Herb interjects. “Just stop for a second. This makes no sense. The amount of time spanned from when intelligent life creates a calendar to when their equivalent of 2015 occurs would never be constant! It might be as much as millions of, well, years different, don’t you understand?”
I consider for a moment. “Huh. I guess I’ve never thought about it before. Oh well, you wanna go see what’s left of Paris?”
“Hang on a second!” Herb throws his hands out in a halting gesture. “If the world always ends based upon a civilization calendar, then that means someone is paying attention. This can’t be random. Someone is doing this.”
Something about this is disconcerting, so I ask. “Well, who do you think it was, Herb?”
Herb rubs his chin. “I don’t know. Who would have that kind of ability?” He shrugs. “Who would want to wreck your stuff? One of your siblings?” He scratches his head. “Would they do that to you?”
“Hmmm…” I say. “I don’t know, but let me go check. Be right back!”
I barely hear Herb say, “Hey, hold on!” as I blink from existence.
I seek out a few other Gods of different areas, find out a few things. It takes a while, talking to millions of my siblings. Finally, I make my way back to Earth.
Herb is dead. Oops. How long was I gone?
Plant-life is thriving. Green underbrush has swept through the cities, breaking apart most of the highways and buildings. Countless years of rain and winds have ground the broken pieces to dust, so little remains of the civilizations of the past.
I bring Herb back to life. He seems a little disoriented.
“What the? Wh-where in…? Did I…?” He spins around, dizzily.
“Hiya Herb! Sorry I took so long.”
Herb plops down and stares vacantly at the ground. He turns a shade of green and covers his mouth with his hand. He shudders a few times but manages not to vomit.
Trying to break the tension, I say, “I found out who’s been apocalypsing the planet.”
“Apocalypsing… what now?” Herb still looks confused, but his color has returned to a more healthy shade. He squeezes his eyes shut, as though concentrating hard. He seems to do that a lot. Finally, his face lights up. “Oh! Yeah!” He hits himself on the forehead. “With the Armageddon, and the 2015, and the calendars!” He stops. “Hey, you’re God, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
“Wow, I thought, for a while, that you weren’t real. You just up and vanished, so I thought that, maybe, I just imagined you. Well, at least for a few days there…” He looks around at the thick, green vegetation, noticing it for the first time. “Hey… what happened here? I thought you were supposed to let nature take its course.”
“I did.” I say, hesitant. “Look, Herb…”
He wanders around, marveling at a tall oak-like tree bursting out of the coarse ground. “How could this have happened so quickly? I mean, it’s only been…” He trails off, whirling around with a stern look on his face. “What happened?”
I make a throat-clearing noise. “Ah… I was gone for a little longer than I expected… Um…” I say, sheepishly. “You sort of… died.”
Herb blinks. “Really?” His irritated look fades into one of mild surprise.
“Yeah…”
“Huh.” He doesn’t seem too broken up about it. He looks around again. “How long has it been?”
I consider this. “I don’t know, really. A while?”
Herb frowns. “Huh. Must have been, like, thousands of years. Millions maybe? Wow.” He shakes his head.
“You don’t seem too upset.” I offer.
“No, I guess I’m not. It’s just a little…” He shakes his head again. “Anyway, so what did you find out?”
“About what?”
Herb rolls his eyes. “About the apocalypse? You know: the whole 2015-thing?
“Oh!” I say with a laugh. “It’s actually pretty funny. One of my brother-Gods has been playing the same prank on me for trillions of millennia. He watches for when my planet hits 2015 in its intelligent life calendar, then hits it with some catastrophe.” I giggle again. “He just wanted to see how long it took me to figure it out.” I put my voice to a low whisper. “I didn’t tell him that you helped me.”
Herb doesn’t seem to hear this last bit, as his eyes have gone wide and his stare vacant. His mouth hangs open, and he trembles.
“Herb?” I ask nervously. “Are you all right?”
Herbs eyes refocus, and he gives his head a clearing shake. “Uh… yes. Yes, I’m okay.” He blows out a long sigh. “I guess the universe is a more screwed-up place than anyone would ever have thought.”
“I guess.” I say, not really knowing what he means. “You wanna play that checkers game?”
Herb tilts his head, “Yeah. I suppose we can do that.”
I summon the checkerboard into existence, along with the pieces. After a grueling battle, I win.
“Hah!” I taunt him. “I get the last laugh again!”
Herb gets a thoughtful look on his face. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that, actually.”
“Thinking about what?” I ask.
“About you getting the last laugh.” He replies. “Before, I mean.”
If I could frown, I would, “What do you mean, exactly?”
“Well, you warned me, before I died and before the apocalypse, that the world would end, right? Then, as you say, I laughed?”
“Yes.” I say, warily.
Herb looks around at the lush vegetation. “The world didn’t exactly end, now did it?”
I object, “Well, not exactly, but that’s-”
Herb interrupts, “So the world did not, in fact, actually, end. Correct?
“No, it didn’t.” I say, sulking. “But-”
“Then you really shouldn’t get the last laugh, now should you?” Herbert’s eyes are filled with glee.
I want to object, but I can’t. “No.” I say pitifully.
“Hah!” Herb yells triumphantly. “So actually, I’m the one who gets the last laugh!” He doubles over, laughing hysterically.
Crud.