The Temple Read Free

need.”
    Sycko didn’t understand how the
Lord had looked after the gentleman when he’d just been shanghaied,
but he understood that the man seemed to think he was a victim too.
And why not he thought. Didn’t I too have a bundle of cash before I
walked into that damn inn with Judas?
    “Eh, yes, I suppose so.”
    “Suppose so? Suppose so, he
says. Do not suppose, young man. Be sure of your gratitude. But
where are my manners. This is no place to be,” he said and pulled
Sycko up and away from the vomit.
    “I’m sure glad to be away from
that pavement pizza,” Sycko said. “The name’s Sycko.” He held out
his hand.
    Slightly embarrassed the
gentleman took it. “Yes, well, glad to meet you. Maybe something
good will come out of all this after all. My name’s Jeremiah. Come
with me. The Lord works in mysterious ways, but I believe that it
was not mere chance that led us to sin last night. It was His will
that brought us hither.”
    “Where are we going?” Sycko
asked. I really need a drink and some aspirins. My head’s killing
me.” He suddenly noticed he was drooling and wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand. There was a wet stain on his shirt.
    Jeremiah noticed and was
delighted. “Ah,” he said. “A portent, a good omen! I knew it was
part of His plan that we should meet thus. Drool, slaver, drivel,
is it not in His eternal glory that we Dryvellers perform this holy
act?” Is it not written in the Book of Books, The Holy Dryvel, that
to drivel shall evermore be a sign of the holy bond we have with
our Lord? No, no, I tell you. This is all part of a plan. You must
come with me. Our temple is not far. You will find all your heart’s
desires there.”
    Although Sycko had his doubts
about finding his heart’s desire in any place but the vaults of a
bank where he was free to help himself to as much money he liked
without ever having to do any work, he was in no state to argue and
meekly walked along. “Strange bloke, Jeremiah is”, he thought. “But
what the heck. Nothing can be worse than what happened last night
and maybe I’ll get something out of it. Don’t look a gift horse in
the mouth.”
    A few minutes later they reached
the temple. It was a plain brick building with no ornamentation of
any sort. The only things that made it different from any other
building were a trickle of water down the side of the entrance that
reminded every Dryveller of their holy bond with God and the
inscription above the door:
     
    When God throws, the dice are
loaded
     
    Sycko read it without
understanding. “Do you play games in here?” he asked.
    “Games?” Jeremiah pushed the
door open and they entered. “Games?” he repeated. “Well, I suppose
you could say some of the things we do could be seen in the manner
of games. But come along. You’ll learn about everything presently.
I have a good feeling about you. An excellent presentiment, in
fact. It is most propitious. I dare say you might be the chosen
one. Yes, Sycko, you are a special person and it is here that you
have found your destiny.”
    Sycko looked around wishing that
the verbose Jeremiah would shut up. Evidently asking questions was
a mistake if he wanted quiet and quiet was just what his pounding
head needed. The hall they were in was bare. The ceiling was white,
the walls were black and the floor was like a chess board. They
walked to another room that was furnished with a simple wooden
table and chairs.
    “Pray, be seated, my friend,”
Jeremiah said. I know, I know your head hurts. Let Jeremiah attend
to it and all will be well soon.”
    Moments later Jeremiah returned
with a packet of aspirins and a bottle of water. Sycko quickly took
two aspirins and drank greedily while Jeremiah slowly sipped tea
from a cup and watched Sycko. The tablets slowly took effect and
with the waning of the pain his interest in Jeremiah waxed.
    “Gee, thanks Jeremiah. This is
the very thing I needed.”
    And you’re very welcome, my
friend, but thank not