Renegade T.M. (36 page)

“
I’ll do it
!”
d
eclared Pete after a moment’s ponder.

“
And yo
u understand everything that i
t will entail
?”
asked God.

“
I do
.”

“
Then it is done
,”
announced God
,
“
everything that happened since you left the planet earth has now been undone. All the moments you experienced, all the interactions in which you partook, every single action which you made, or even thought to make, now never actually took place
.”

“
Well go on
,”
encouraged the Saint
,
“to
?”

“
To Slip
,”
resumed Slip
,
“
you sure are a heck of a guy! Why, if it weren’t for you, it is entirely likely that the universe would drop dead. Love you lots, all sentient life. Then finish with kisses
.”

“
What about Pete
?”
a
sked Saint Peter.

“
Well we certainly like you
,”
replied Slip
,
“
not sure about the whole talking about yourself in the third person thing, but I hardly think we know you well enough yet to make a cake
.”

“
That’s not what I meant
,”
said the Saint
,
“
I meant the other Pete
!”

“
Hmmm, let me consult the other Slip
,”
he said pulling out his communicator
,
“
hello, other Slip, yes that’s right, it’s you, yep, I know
,
I know, I really am quite something aren’t I. Anyway, can you help us answer a question
?”

“
You haven’t even dialled
,”
said the Saint deeply unimpressed.

“
Should we make the other saint a cake
?”
he went on, ignoring him
,
“
what’s that, no we shouldn’t, we should instead tell him to mind his own business and then nick his dinner money, fine, will do, bye darling
.”

“
You have no idea who Pete is, do you
?”
asked the Saint, cottoning on to the change in the timeline
,
“
well it appears that your friend has gone
.”

“
You
’
r
e
mental
,”
put in Fendel
,
“
what are we doing here anyway
?”

“
Yeah
, I can’t even remember how we got here
,”
added Crinkle.

“
Come on guys
,”
replied Slip
, “this
is heaven
yeah
, so we must have been summoned right?
”

“
It appears that your services are no longer needed
,”
said Saint Peter.

“
There you go
,”
said Slip
,
“
it appears that we are no longer needed, just how I like it
!”

“
I’m bored
,”
announced Fendel.

“
My hair needs straightening
,”
declared Crinkle.

“
Seriously guys, save that gold for the thoughtwaves,
let’s get outta here, Renegade T
M is going live
!”

That said the Renegade trio turned tail and left.

“
Oh
,”
Slip called back at the Saint
,
“
give our regards to the other Pete
yeah
!”

“
No need
,”
said the Saint to himself
,
“
you can do that yourself one day
.”

“
What now
?”
asked Pete.

“
Now we return you to your own life
,”
answered the Lord
,
“
th
e life you had before Renegade T
M
.”

“
But that life sucked
!”

“
Indeed it did
,”
agreed God readily
,
“
but if you are do to for me what I have asked, then it is the life from which it must be done
.”

“
Fine
,”
he acquiesced sullenly
,
“
but if I am going to do what you have asked, then there is one thing that I want you to answer for me
.”

“
Shoot
.”

“
What is the meaning behind…”

“
Life, the universe, and everything
,”
God int
er
r
upted.

“
Tie clips
,”
he finished dramatically.

“
Oh
,”
said God slightly taken aback for someone who is omniscient
,
“
they clip your tie to your shirt
.”

“
Okay
,”
he agreed
slowly nodding
,
“
and could these so called tie clips, ever be worn if say, I happened not to be wearing any tie
?”

“
No
.”

“
Fine, thought not
,”
lied Pete.

“
Anything else
?”

“
No
,
no, I think that’s everything
.”

“
Not quite everything
,”
said God cryptically.

“
What do you mean? I’ve done everything you’ve asked
.”

“
You have young Pete
,”
agreed the Lord
,
“
and for that I am eternally grateful. My remaining cause for concern is what you could end up doing were I to return you to your planet as you are
.”

“
Oh that’s easy
,”
he replied instantly “
sell my story of course, I’m going to be rich
!”

“
And as important as that certainly is for you, I’m afraid it’s something which I simply cannot allow. If I were to wake up the next day to the headlines of
“
man travels the galaxies with pirate radio station, is killed dead multiple times, and manages to meet the Lord God Almighty
”
then what do you think that might do to my image
?”

“
Erm
,”
thought Pete hard.

“
Nothing at all
,”
God answered
,
“
on the other hand, what it could do to your image might be catastrophic, and for the quest I have tasked you with, this is simply not permissible
.”

“
So I can’t sell my story
?”

“
Yes, though I think I will sleep a little sounder knowing that you won’t sell your story, because there isn’t actually any story to sell in the first place
.”

“
But there is
,”
argued Pete.

“
And now there isn’t
,”
replied God, jumping down from his hand.

Pete stood in front of the Lord and felt a
ll of his memories of Renegade T
M fall away. It was as though everything that had happened to him since the Co-leen had selected him as the earth’s representative, was but a dream within a dream. He felt like a candyfloss stick which had had all the rosy sugary goodness bitten away in one fell swoop by some fat kid who swallowed before chewing. Every single event since he had left his home planet had now been deleted from his memory, and everything he had since become, was yet again but a pipedream.

“
Goodbye Pete
,”
said God
,
“
and thanks again
.”

“
Wow a talking spider
!”

And Pete vanished.

As he felt himself fall through time and space, Pete imagined that he was a slice of toast spinning gracefully through infinity. He imagined that the star-like lights he could perceive faintly if he focused hard enough, represented the sky, and as he tumbled through the vortex he then likened his ability to perceive them as if it was the butter side up. On and on he fell, and his understanding of time became li
ke a child’s grip on superstring theory
. On and on he fell, butter side up, butter side down, butter side up, butter side down.

Pete fell backwards from the top wall of the
Sutton
car park, landing humorously on his coccyx. He had failed to take his own life and complete the suicide attempt that would end his apocalyptic day from hell. So far today he had lost his job, then his girlfriend, then his home, and he had just watched his Nissan micro explode without motive before his very eyes. As he lay there in a recently created puddle, staring up at the mocking, fancy free clouds, he made a promise to himself, that before the sun had set, he would be no more on this earth.

H
e raised himself from his wet embrace and made his way up onto the car park wall again. He then paused to consider the complexity of the dive he might perform. Would he back flip elegantly from the ledge whilst bidding adieu to the universe with a sonnet that would make Shakespeare green, or perhaps pirouette to his death in an austere silence that would rival that of any mute monk. Finally he decided on a belly flop, landing with a squelch outside a popular coffee ch
ain, (that might raise an eyebrow
or two above the rim of a laptop screen). As he stood there counting down from ten in his made-up mind, a man greeted him:

“
Hello
.”

Pete stalled and looked over to where the voice had originated from. A fabu
lously
well-dressed gentlemen with his son in hand stood there, evidently waiting for his response. Perhaps he had thought that witnessing a suicide jump, was not in fact the most appropriate event that a young boy should have to observe on an idle Tuesday, and one which would prove difficult to imbue with an educational lesson for his boy, such as
“
this man is taking his own life, when it is actually life which is his to take
”
or maybe
“
see, like Daddy taught you at the swimming pool, hands and feet together before you dive in
.”
Neither of these would
rightly cut it. Either way, h
e was now involved and would have to respond to this man in the time accustomed manner.

“
Hello
,”
he replied.

“
Can I ask
,”
the man began
,
“
are you intending to jump
?”

“
Erm
,”
thought Pete, trying to imagine a more positive spin
,
“
yes, good eh
?”

“
No, not really
.”

“
What can I do for you
?”
Pete asked, trying to lead events back on course.

“
I was wondering
,”
he replied
,
“
do I need to pay now, or when I return
?”

Pete looked down at his shirt, and having failed to discover a Car Park Attendant badge located on it, responded in what he considered a measure tone:

“
Listen you idiot, does it look like a give a fig about your parking problems?
!”

“
No need to be rude
,”
said the man, before addressing his son
,
“
some people are just born ignorant
.”

“
Ignorant of the right way to pay in a car park?
!”
he shouted back
, unable to let the slight go.

“
I was talking about you, not to you
.”

“
Well then, you’re obviously a moron, don’t you agree Pete? Indeed I do, indubitably
.”

“
Sticks and stones
,”
replied the man.

“
Daddy
,”
began the boy
,
“
is that man going to jump yet
?”

“
Yes son, I think he is
,”
replied the man, before addressing Pete
,
“
are you going to jump now?
”

“
I may do, what’s it got to do with you anyway?
!”

“
Oh it’s just I have this wager with my son
.”

“
What wager?
”
a
sked Pete, growing steadily more perturbed.

“
My son is of the opinion that as you jump, a giant eagle will swoop down, grab you by its talons,
and
then fly you away on some epic avian adventure
.”

“
And you
?”

“
I think you’ll land with a splat outside Starbucks
.”

“
Right
,”
said Pete, alarmed at the casualness of it all
“
and what do you have wagered on it?
“

“
Just a sportsmen bet
,”
he replied
,
“
I do not condone gambling
.”

“
But watching a man commit suicide is okay
,”
Pete mumbled to himself.

“
Sorry, what
?”

“
Was there anything else
?”
asked Pete, eager to crack on.

“
Perhaps
,”
said the man, lighting a cigarette
,
“
can you tell me why you want to end your life?
”

Pete almost wished now that he did in fact work at the car park, and was able to have answered his parking ticket question, and then ushered them on their way. Instead, it looked like he was now involved, and would have to justify his suicide bid to two complete strangers, strangers who considered it entirely appropriate to make wagers on the morbid outcome of what happens when a man jumps off the top floor of a multi-storey car park. Composing himself, he considered the most measured way he could frame his response, and answered:

“
Listen buddy, I don’t see how it’s any of your business, but if you must know, I am committing suicide today because the negative factors of my life have now become more abundant and prominent than the positive ones. Okay
?
!
”

“
I see
,”
replied the man, blowing a smoke ring
,
“
and your considered solution to your current state of affairs is not to address any of the problems themselves, but instead, end the current state of affairs, and the possibility of any more future ones, come to think of it
?”

“
Exactly
.”

“
And you do
n’t think that your solution might
be a little harsh
?”

“
Life is harsh
,”
replied Pete despondently.

“
Ah, c’est la vie mon amie
!”
d
eclared the man, adjusting his beret.

“
Sorry what
?”

“
It’s not that life is harsh
,”
explained the man
,
“
life is just life, it’s what we make of it that counts. If you decide to end your life, then you end the possibility to make it better altogether.
”

“
So
?”

“
Can I ask you Pete, what do you dislike about your life
?”

“
I’m unemployed, my ex-girlfriend is a psycho, and it just feels like I’m not going anywhere
!”
he answered without thinking.

Listening to himself say these words, Pete underwent a profound transformation. All along he had thought that he was going to end his life because he had become trapped by the day’s events. He had been sacked from his job and imagined that he would been thrown out and left for dead on the scrapheap of the unemployed, he had lost his girlfriend and envisaged a lonely future of singledom and microwaveable meals for one, and he had lost his home where he would sit and watch television night after night, interspersed by the odd occasional bath. All of these things had made him the man that he was, without them, he felt naked and unsure. There was something else in him now however, something that felt good and exciting. Suddenly he understood that everything he had lost today, he had never actually wanted anyway. Pete was a free man, and no longer had to waste his life in a dead-end job, or in a hate-fuelled relationship. It was as if God himself had seen his plight and removed all the detritus in one fell swoop, filling him with a new divine purpose, and opening up his life to unlimited possibility.

“
Are you okay
?”
a
sked the Frenchman.

“
Yes
,”
replied Pete
,
“
I feel great
!”

“
So can you jump already, I don’t want to disappoint my son Ben here
?”

“
Erm, actually about that, think I’ll probably pass
.”

“
Zut alors! Make up you’re mind will you?
!”

“
Oh I have
,”
he replied confidently
,
“
life is far too precious
!”

“
Well there’s nothing keeping us here then
,”
declared the man
,
“
au revoir Pete Martin
.”

And that said the man turned and left, his son closely in tow. Only later did it occur to Pete that the
man had said his name
, and that he had obviously known who he was
, even though they had never met. This riled him for a moment, before realising, quite inexplicably, that he would meet this man again
very
soon.