Infidel

Of late, a miscellany of grave faces peer into mine with the often naïve intention to price out my soul, people know me and I do not know them, it is no longer wise for me to take chances with strangers. I wonder what has made me decide to engage with this loquacious individual, why he has picked on me on this boisterous Saturday night.

‘You think you’re so ruthless at exposing yourself to the world, but to what end? What do you believe in?’ he demands, fat round eyes twinkling with accusation.

‘Why does that concern you?’

‘Because you’re as hollow as a gourd. You just drift from one day to the next like a leaf in the wind. What have you got against God and our church?’

‘Which church?’

‘God’s entire mission.’

‘Is that the name of another of your new churches?’

‘Listen to you, blaspheming against God. You know which church I’m talking about, man.’

‘If I’m blaspheming then what would you say you’re doing, getting roaring drunk and making passes at every girl who walks in?’

‘God never forbade that. He took Woman out of Man’s rib. He created Woman for the gratification of Man, so He never really disapproves of male lust, which is natural. It leads to procreation which is God’s will.’

‘You chauvinist! You believe that folklore – Adam and Eve and the Serpent. I suppose you believe Woman led to Man’s eternal downfall. You denigrate women…’

‘You call the good book “folklore”!’

‘So you believe the earth was created in seven days; that you were fashioned out of clay and cursed to be pot-black because some son of a Jew derided his drunken, disrobed father and was banished to toil in darkest Africa? That the world’s multifarious languages resulted from the so-called Tower of Babel? That Noah’s ark was large enough to house a pair of every creature on earth, dinosaurs, elephants, whales? That Judas was black? What happened to evolution? And where were the forefathers of Nehanda and Chaminuka all the while? What happened to our own black folklore?’

‘Look who’s a racist now. I might be a chauvinist, but I’m saved.’

‘Is that what they teach you in your church? Your religion stirs up so many chauvinisms…’

‘You’re saying so.’

‘Do you make passes at every woman in your church?’

‘If they throw themselves at me, and there’s room to manoeuvre. There’s no harm in indulging the flesh as long as you repent. The flesh is fallible.’

‘You’re a hypocrite. I’ve met many people who attend your services just to seek out new partners. How many married women in your church have you gone out with?’

‘Quite a few, I’d say.’

‘Have you taken your infamous pastor’s wife, too?’

‘Don’t mock my church? You’re nothing.’

‘I have my life. You church people only cause problems.’

‘How?’

‘The world’s worst problems today are caused by three main things: greed, racism and religion. Look at The Middle East, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, Ireland and even North, North East and West Africa. Everywhere! Religious fanatics, from both sides of the divide, whether old or new, are selfish and a danger to humanity. If there was no religion, people throughout the world would live happily together. Look at Osama bin Laden and other extremists. The greatest threat to the world today is a full-scale war between Islam and Christianity.’

‘You’re blaspheming again. I suppose you’ll add, like John Lennon, that we should do away with national boundaries.’

‘If you guys can’t do without boundaries on earth, however will you manage in heaven?’

‘There are no boundaries in heaven. Heaven is a state of unbounded space.’

‘I suppose you’ll all congregate in a vacuum. Thousands of billions upon billions of humanoids, black, brown, yellow, white; souls from several thousand millennia ago and cultures right down to our ancestors, the apes. And we mustn’t forget the angels, birds, insects and animals. But won’t the lions eat the little lambs in heaven, Mike?’

‘Don’t be silly!’

‘And what will you eat every day once you’re there? Manna, I suppose. Will there be any special menus for carnivores or vegetarians or you will all have the same fare?’

‘You don’t understand. In heaven, souls feed on The Word, the Spirit and not on contaminated earthly food.’

‘Will there be separate dorms for males, females, children, married couples, different cultures, different races? Will loving couples and families be allowed to reunite? Will there be uniforms, provisions, timetables, languages, translators? Will the inmates be issued with passes, to, say, revisit the earth as ghosts or avenging spirits or will there be no earth left to visit? Why do some people return back to earth as spirits, Mike? Who lets them out? What if the world explodes in a nuclear holocaust when some moron presses one of those little red buttons scattered all over the globe? Will there be a separate judgement day for each individual killed that day? Have you heard of the prophecies of Nostradamus? Or will there be a new war against Satan? Or will the devil and his archangels be too busy roasting their countless guests? And why should God allow his children to be roasted? If I, a creature of flesh and blood, can forgive my son for pinching forty dollars from my wardrobe, why should God want to preach forgiveness and vengefully destroy the world he’s said to have created? If your Good Book say, only 144,000 souls will be admitted to heaven is there any point in striving for admission?’

‘You can’t be serious!’

‘Of course, I’m not. I’m pulling your leg. Don’t you guys have any sense of humour’

‘Oh, shit!’

‘And what will the inmates of Heaven do in eternity? Sing, pray, testify, I suppose. Doesn’t God ever get tired of all this praise? This worship. Come again. Forever? Forever, forever, forever… Say that again, forever, forever, forever…’

‘Shut up!’

‘Forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, forever, till we down all the beers in this bar and the national breweries run dry, till this watch stops and I buy a new one, till every tree on this earth is pulped into paper and the oceans turn into ink and every literate person on earth reiterates the words FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER, till all the paper in the world is covered with with human scrawl, FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER…’

‘You’re nuts!’

‘FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER till all voices fade and dissolve into air, till all the trees and flowers die and the rivers and oceans dry up and rock crumbles to dust and the sun and stars burn out and the earth shrivels to nothing and all the brimstone in all the galaxies burns out and the sun, the stars and the moon switch themselves out and all matter is reduced to dust, and dust to nothingness, FOREVER, FOREVER, FOREVER, TILL WHEN? TILL WHEN? TILL WHEN? WHEN? WHEN? WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN WHEN…’

‘You’re right out of your mind!’

‘But wait, Mike. That’s only the Christian heaven, you see. What about the heavens of other religions, Islam, Hindu, Sikh, African, Ibo, Yoruba, Shona, Zulu … etcetera? Will they exist in a parallel state, or in sequence, or in competition? What about religions that espouse reincarnation, the animists, Zen, atheists, traditionalists? Your own traditional Shona beliefs?’

‘But you don’t even believe in them.’

‘There are people who do.’

‘You believe in nothing but yourself.’ ‘You and your churches do. You don’t believe anyone else is right. You’ve completely blinkered yourselves to other visions of existence.’

‘I’ve heard about your stupid books. You aren’t even atheist. You’re the biggest egoist that ever walked the face of this earth. ’

‘I don’t know about that. I don’t hate God. I think God is some inscrutable force that created and controls the universe. A force even larger than all religions together can begin to comprehend. Two centuries ago who would have dreamt that man would one day set foot on the moon? Was that predicted in your good books? What new knowledge will science bring us in the future? All I know is that I hate churches that thrive on fear, deceit, blind trust, greed and folly. The opium of the masses, indeed!’

‘You dare call us “masses”! You think you’re very smart. You’re nothing, nobody, I tell you. You don’t even deserve the wife you had. What do you have against her?’

I now realise Mike might have been one of the un-wily recipients of my bar-room tirades against matrimony. ‘Don’t talk about that woman,’ I say, grimly.

‘Why shouldn’t I? I know now why she left you.’ ‘It’s none of your business. For your own information, she didn’t leave me, my wife left of her own accord, held captive by your pastors, I suppose.’

‘Because you couldn’t keep her captive yourself, you fool. If I told you what I know about her you’d hang yourself, poor soul.’

‘I don’t want to know.’

‘She talked about you, about what a wreck you are.’‘Go on, then.’

‘Okay, you asked for this. She and I used to be in the same evening prayer group. Once, when she was still with you, I decided to give her a lift to the meeting. I parked at your gate and hooted. Then you came up the road and parked behind me and I asked, “Is Vhaidha in? ”’

‘I remember! So it was you! So, you go to the same church!’

‘I said, “Is Vhaidha in?” and you know what you said? You said, “Fuck off from my gate, you moron!” and I laughed and drove away. I’ll never forget that, you, a sascam, calling me a moron!’

‘If you choose to behave like one at another man’s gate then you’ll be treated as one.’

‘What wrong did I do? Vhaida had asked me to pick her up. Are you calling me a moron again?’

‘Yes, if you insist on behaving like one. But you’re always welcome to eat my vomit if you wish.’

‘Eat your what? What did you say?’

Mike grabs a stool and slams it at my drink. He slams it again and again at the bar; the upward thrust of its legs smash the glass panel above the counter; the vibration knocks over a dozen bottles of spirits and sends them exploding onto the floor. I duck. A hush has fallen over the bar and Miriam, the bartender, creeps into a corner. The bar manager and the bouncers freeze in the doorway.

Mike throws off his coat and staggers towards me. He’s breathing like a bull and his eyes are ablaze. A bottle of rare whisky tumbles from the shelf and crashes onto the floor. I stand up and lean back, looking for a way to escape.

Mike lunges at me, hands balled into crude fists, face contorted into a hideous mask of unforgiving Neanderthal rage.

‘What did you say?’ he hisses like a serpent, his spittle shooting into my face.

I’m already dead from his venom.

Forever dead.