Small Time Angel: He was kicked off his cloud to manage Hades’ Australian franchise.
It hasn’t gone well.
Just a small time angel, who’s avoided sin. / They kicked me off the cloud to manage hell for them. / Then they tried everything to take my soul from me. / They call me the devil, the evil one, a tempter, / Lucifer, seducer and a master liar. / They laid a darkness on humanity, / turned around, blamed it on me.
The office was large and substantial, essentially an archive, thick timber shelves laden with papyri, medieval manuscripts, banned books. Through a window of ancient hand-blown glass could be seen a wavy image of the Rome skyline and St. Peter’s Basilica in the distance. Behind a desk sat The Director, immaculately dressed, carefully turning the vellum sheets of a leather-bound volume. They crinkled with age, the tome ancient. He studied one page for a few moments, closed the book, then looked at Dev, sitting across from him, and shook his head.
Not a good omen, Dev knew.
‘We have recently completed our one-hundred-year review of all franchises, Dev, and I have to be up front about this. I’m disturbed about the state of affairs in Australia. The situation has deteriorated radically, particularly over the past 60 years. Far fewer people down under now believe that there is a hell, and as to respect for you? Films about the devil used to be horror classics, but the country’s first DVD rental stores filed them in the comedy section.’
Dev was taken aback. This is not news. These facts are givens for all of us.
‘That’s the case with many franchises, sir, not just down under,’ Dev explained. ‘We’ve had seminars on the matter, reports prepared. Things are changing fast all over the world, and everyone is aware that secularism is rampant and attendance is declining at innumerable worship services. Clerics rarely utter the word “hell” anymore, let alone give a sermon about it, because they know from experience that it negatively affects attendance. As a result, it has essentially been relegated to the basement of most churches like cast-off furniture. Our most important publicity program through the centuries, which kept our profile high, has been effectively wiped out.’
‘Which is why we require from you a new business model with a detailed action plan of how you will turn things around — or your franchise won’t be renewed.’
It was a shock to hear it spoken, though not unexpected, for matters had been tense for some time. Dev remained silent. Experience told him that The Director’s tone of voice and the finality of his statement indicated he was not going to discuss the matter further, entertain any counter arguments.
The Director took a file from a drawer and opened it. ‘I’m assigning this case file to you, and I thought we could take the opportunity to go over it while you’re here. His name is Ryan, from Brisbane. About a year ago, when he went to Melbourne for a work assignment, his wife Julia went to Bali for a week.’ The Director paused and turned some pages. ‘She met a strapping German in a nightclub the first night. She was a biceps type, he had great ones and she helped him flex them for the next six nights.’
What’s this all about? Dev wondered. Why didn’t he just have the case file sent through the normal channel, or hand it to me and let me take it from there, as usual? He’s never discussed one with me like this before.
The Director continued. ‘Back home her conscience got the better of her and she told Ryan about it. Instead of shouting and throwing her and the furniture around, he sat down and wrote this.’ The Director handed a sheet of paper across to Dev.
He took and read it, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Dev pursed his lips as he slowly nodded his head. ‘The meter is interesting. Neither strict form nor free verse. The crucial element is the conceptual shift from fornication to philosophy, from the existential to the essence. He’s a budding poet.’
‘That was my assumption,’ The Director said, ‘until this.’ He raised his eyebrows in emphasis as he held up a USB thumb drive. ‘It turned out that the “poems” are all songs.’
Hey, lady, on that Bali night,’ / what thoughts were going through your head? / Were you seduced by the promise of freedom / or just by the man your bed? / Have you had a taste of eternity, / of what happiness could be? / Or was it just the Devil’s way of foolin’ you, / the way that he’s fooled me?
The Director took a large envelope out of a drawer, placed the thumb drive and a copy of the Ryan file in it, closed the self-seal flap, handed it to Dev.
‘I think Ryan would be an asset to the organisation, so when you bring your Australian franchise renovation proposal to me for approval, Ryan’s recruited soul has to be part of the presentation package, the process you use to get it fully documented. An example, if you will, of how your new approach will work.’
‘I’ll put him in play immediately, Dev said.’
The Director smiled. ‘I trust you’ll enjoy the case. Keep me informed of your progress.’
The meeting was thus concluded. No handshake, no good luck — and no goodbye, which Dev suspected was The Director’s ultimate intent.
Dev’s mind reeled as he rode down the lift. A new business model, with action plan? No offer of Headquarters support? No timeline? And no deadline? The Director will drop that on me suddenly, I know, and it will be brutally short. I couldn’t avoid seeing the lines on the globe sitting on his desk, delineating the boundaries of all the earth’s franchises. The Director clearly intended for me to see them. Most had red dots stuck to them, including Australia. All of us franchise holders are under the same gun. Whoever comes up with the best model will be the new golden boy. There will be a cleanout, re-structuring, a re-run of a millennium ago, but with my future this time tied to the recruitment of some bloody amateur songwriter’s soul.
Dev now suspected that his assignment to Australia a century before, couched as a promotion, was but a setup with its criminally-ancestored mob of bludgers and no-hopers, about whom he had never been all that enthused, nor they him.
After Dev left The Director spun around to look out the window. He was impressed with Ryan’s passion, discernible in the crude recordings, and was sure he would be resistant to temptation and tricky to bring in, making him a very difficult project for Dev. As it should be. Dev was good once, and he’s right, times have changed, but he hasn’t adapted well. New blood is needed, new ideas, new plans, to rescue what’s now a challenging — no, disastrous — antipodal situation. You can’t simply oust him, though. He has given a lot over the ages. It would look, indeed would be, unseemly, ungracious. It’s best if Dev removes himself.
Strangely, every person who meets The Director or Dev finds it hard afterward to recall exactly what either looked like, with descriptions so varied as to cast doubt on their actual appearances. Attempted portrayals here would likely be no less errant. The reader’s own imagination will have to suffice.
TO BE CONTINUED EVERY THREE DAYS.
