STRANGE SCIENCE FICTION AND FANTASY OMNIBUS (8 page)

When Amos Hitherto, President of the Amalgamated Atheists’ Society, resolved to disprove the existence of God scientifically, he threw all of his considerable energy into the project. Unhampered as he was by any feelings of religion, ethics, or morals, he had amassed a considerable fortune. This enabled him to allocate whatever funds were necessary.

Letherton’s plan was to replicate the story he had heard about the lack of any divine involvement in the writing of Holy Scripture. He would do this by proving the assertion that a monkey, typing blindly in the cellar of the British Museum would, after many eons, type out a complete, perfect rendition of the King James Bible. Naturally, the choice of the right monkey was important. After considerable research into the subject, Letherton selected a young male chimpanzee named James who appeared to be unusually bright.

James was put at a desk, given a manual typewriter, and shown how to hit the keys with his fingers. There he was obliged to sit, typing away, for twelve hours a day, with only fifteen minutes off for lunch. When the animal rights group learned of this treatment and protested, Hitherto reluctantly agreed to permit James a fifteen minute break, even volunteering to furnish James, free of charge, a moderate sized banana at each break.

James’s efforts produced tons and tons of foolscap covered with gibberish. The floor of the room was eternally covered with discarded paper. Several times, Letherton thought he was on the brink of success. On one occasion, the researcher, who was supervising the project on a day to day basis, rushed to him with a triumphant cry, informing him that the monkey had typed a reasonably correct copy of an O’Henry short story. Convinced that he was on the right track and that James would soon produce the King James Bible, Letherton redoubled his efforts. As an inducement to speed James on, he increased the size of the bananas provided the chimpanzee.

The situation was repeated several years later, when James typed out a near perfect rendition of the first two acts of “Macbeth.” This time, Letherton instructed his researcher to spur James on by lengthening his working day to thirteen hours. Years passed. James had obviously aged. He typed much more slowly, his hands, handicapped by rheumatism. Letherton too had aged. He now was obliged to spend many months a year away from the project, on vacation in Florida.

Then one day success came. The researcher, who had replaced his now retired predecessor, rushed into Letherton’s office, crying “”Eureka!” James had finally succeeded. There on the desk next to him was a complete, perfectly typed manuscript of the King James Bible. Letherton was naturally, overjoyed. He had finally obtained the proof he desired, that the Bible was not written through the involvement of divine inspiration and that God perforce did not exist.

Letherton carefully made the arrangements for the announcement of his findings. He hired a large room at the National Press Club in the nation’s capital and invited as many media representatives as he could. With the spotlight on him, he strode to the podium and announced that an ape had typed out the Bible and that this was irrefutable proof that God does not exist. Cameras clicked, and the news was spread throughout the world. Letherton settled back to reap the expected congratulations, possibly even the award of the Nobel Prize. Gratefully, he retired James to a farm in the country where he was provided with whatever delicacies he desired to eat.

Alas! The reaction was not what Letherton had expected. All the major religious groups interpreted the event as proving the existence of God. After all, they reasoned, only divine intervention could have led a chimpanzee to re-create the King James Bible. This conclusion was accepted by the media. Instead of closing, the various churches enjoyed a significant revival.

Letherton was crushed. He took to his bed, a broken man, and died a few months later. Ironically, his wife, who had never shared Letherton’s atheistic views, prevailed upon him to be baptized and accepted into the Episcopal Church. He mumbled his acceptance wearily, and died a Christian. The moral of this story is inescapable. Letherton’s experience neither proves nor disproves the existence of God, or of divine inspiration in the writing of the Bible. It does, however, provide irrefutable proof that you can spend vast sums of money without obtaining the ends you seek.

The sign on the wall of the Quality Meat Market in Bayonne, New Jersey proclaimed in large letters “You Are What You Eat.” It was put there to persuade prospective customers that it made sense to pay the higher prices charged by the butcher shop to purchase and eat the premium meats it sold. Bayonne was largely a working class town. Although the large navy base had terminated most of its operations since the end of the war, the majority of the men still worked at blue collar jobs in plants around Bayonne, many of them in the nearby petroleum refineries.

Jerry Sullivan had opened the shop when he returned from military service. With hard work and a little luck, the butcher shop thrived. Wages were good for the factory workers living in Bayonne, and they had the money to purchase the premium meats the Quality Meat Market sold. Jerry hired several workers to help him at the shop, and purchased a van to deliver meat to his customer’s homes. He joined a local golf club and played golf every Wednesday afternoon; his wife Marry received a fur coat from him one Christmas and his son, Michael, was sent off to Notre Dame, the first member of the Sullivan family to go to College.

Over the years, however, the situation changed. Many of the factories around Bayonne closed their operations in New Jersey, moving their plants to lower wage states. Then the large supermarket chains moved into the area, selling meats at prices far lower than Jerry could afford. One after another, Jerry was forced to let his workers go, retaining only Paul McBride, who had served with him in the army, been wounded in the leg, and still walked with a pronounced limp.

Now business had fallen off so much, that Jerry knew he would soon have to close the butcher shop. As much as he hated to, he planned to give Paul his two weeks’ notice that Saturday. Even after eliminating Paul’s modest pay, he doubted that he would be able to send his son Michael back to Notre Dame for his senior year. And as for being able to send his daughter, Patricia Ellen, to college when she graduated from high school next year, that was too preposterous even to contemplate.

Jerry was seated at the back of the store, looking despondently at the wall clock. It was almost closing time, and there had been only two customers so far that day. He heard the bell signaling the entry of a customer, and turned to the door. A very tall, very slender man dressed entirely in black, his body enveloped in a black cape, had entered the shop. He wore a tall silk hat, of the kind Jerry had seen only in the old movies on TV, showing the upper classes at society parties.

“Good afternoon,” said the visitor, speaking in a sepulchral voice. “Are you the proprietor of the Quality Meat Market?”

“I am,” said Jerry. “What can I do for you?”

“My name is Underwood,” said the visitor. “I am the representative in this area of the AAA Meat Service. We provide the highest quality meats to retailers, such as yourself, at the lowest possible price.”

The last thing Jerry needed right then was more meat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Underwood,” he said sadly. “I already have an excellent wholesaler. Please don’t waste your time. I can’t possibly buy any meat from you.”

His words seemed lost on Underwood. From the folds of his cape, he extracted a sheaf of paper and laid it down in front of Jerry. This is our price list. As you can see, the prices we charge are extremely competitive.”

Jerry glanced at the sheet of paper. The prices charged were less than thirty percent of what he was currently paying. He knew there was no way in the world the AAA Meat Service could sell meat to him at that price. It had to be a scam.

Mr. Underwood,” he said. “Your prices are good but I’m afraid my answer is still no.”

Underwood was not the least perturbed. “Naturally,” he said, “I appreciate your doubts. Allow me to explain the terms of our offer. We will provide you with the quantity of meat you sell each week entirely free of charge. It will give you the opportunity to try the meat, to see what your customers think of it and to sample it yourself. If at the end of the week you do not wish to give us further orders, we simply walk away with no charge to you. If, as we expect, you find our meat attaining or exceeding the quality of the meat you currently sell, you make us your regular supplier and purchase the meat at the prices shown in our price list.

Jerry stood silently, mulling over the offer. Try as he might, he was unable to find any catch. The way business was going, he certainly had to do something drastic. If the meat provided by Underwood was nearly as good as what he was now selling, one week’s free supply would be a cash bonanza for him. He could keep Paul on a little longer. With a few additional economies, he might even be able to send his son back to college for his senior year.

“All right,” he said slowly. “I accept your offer.

Underwood then explained the details of the delivery. Everything seemed routine except that Underwood insisted that the meat would have to be delivered at exactly midnight on Sunday. Try as he might, Underwood refused to budge. “Our delivery schedules,” he said, “Are carefully coordinated, so that we can provide the meat at the price we charge. Any alteration would be far too costly. Reluctantly, Jerry had agreed.

There was one problem, Jerry had promised Mary that he would go with her to an event at church on Sunday night. He arranged to have Paul be at the shop to handle the delivery at 12am. On Monday morning, he got to the store early, wondering if all had gone according to plan.

Paul arrived a few minutes later and assured him that all had gone well. The full order had been delivered by the AAA Meat Service. “They even added a few pounds of sausages we hadn’t ordered,” Paul reported. “The delivery man said that they had found it to be a popular item, and they think it will help increase our sales.” Jerry inspected the meat. It seemed to be of excellent quality. Then he got an idea. With this week’s supply of meat costing him nothing, he could reduce his prices to attract customers. He had Paul make up a large sign, which he placed in the window informing the public of “A ONE WEEK SPECIAL SALE ON ALL MEATS.”

That night, Jerry took home one of the steaks that Underwood had supplied for dinner. Mary prepared it in the usual way, and he tasted it with apprehension. To his surprise, it was amazingly tender. The taste seemed slightly sweeter than usual, but he found himself savoring the meat. Patricia Ellen, who rarely ate much, surprised him by taking a large second helping. He cautiously told Mary that the steak tasted exceptionally good that night, but she took it as a compliment about her cooking ability.

During the rest of the week, the number of customers at the shop increased slightly, as passersby saw the sign and decided to give the store a try. He was particularly pleased by the comments from his steady customers, all of whom expressed pleasure at the improved quality of the steaks, roasts and chops they had purchased. When Mr. Underwood reappeared on Friday evening, Jerry happily wrote out a check for the next week’s supply of meat and instructed him to add the Quality Meat Market to its list of regular customers.

Things at the store over the next couple of years proceeded on the same upward course. As sales rose, he was able to hire back first one, and then another of his former employees, and to give Paul a modest raise, the first he received in over five years. There was now no doubt about whether Michael would be able to finish college, and when he hesitantly mentioned he would like to go on to Law School, Jerry assured him it was an excellent idea, and that they could afford the tuition. Thanks to the very low price he was paying Underwood, he had reduced his prices to a level that forced the large supermarket chains to do the same. After a few months, they had closed their stores or shifted to types of meat that Jerry’s shop did not sell.

Then, one Sunday, Paul called him to say he had come down with a bad cold, and that he wanted Jerry to handle the delivery at midnight of the week’s meat supply. Jerry thought of asking one of his other clerks to fill in, but finally decided it would be less trouble to do it himself. Arriving at the shop a few minutes before midnight, Jerry settled down to await the delivery.

He did not have to wait long. Exactly at midnight, the bell signaling the door had been opened opened rang. Jerry looked up as a tall man, wearing a black wizard hat, entered the shop, carrying a large quarter of meat. It was not Mr. Underwood, but another man dressed in a black uniform. Jerry was surprised. He had expected to see Mr. Underwood. “Hello,” he said, attempting to make conversation.

The man grunted something, then continued on to the back of the shop, putting the side of meat into the large store refrigerator. Jerry recalled with a start that Paul had not said anything about the meat deliveries for some time. It had become such a routine matter that Paul had not even mentioned it, and he had neglected to ask him about it. The man repeated his round trip between the door and the refrigerator, each time carrying a side of meat. He finished, then without further word, walked to the door.

Curious, Jerry followed him. As the door opened, Jerry watched him get into the meat delivery vehicle. He thought to himself that the driver was one of the most taciturn individuals he had ever seen. Then it struck him. The delivery truck looked exactly like a giant hearse. Jerry went home, his head swirling. He could not get what he had observed out of his mind. The next morning at breakfast, he was so silent that Mary asked what the matter was. He did not wish to alarm her, so he made up an excuse, kissed her goodbye, and drove off to the shop.

When Paul came in, he asked him if he had ever seen the delivery van. “Why yes,” was his answer. “It looked just like a giant hearse.”

Hearing someone else echo his own thoughts made it even worse. All the old questions came back. How could the AAA Meat Service sell him the meat so cheaply? Was the meat really beef, pork, and lamb, or from some other animal? What animal? Could it conceivably be human flesh? The possible answers were too horrible to contemplate.