Read The Love Machine & Other Contraptions Online
Authors: Nir Yaniv
The Love Machine & Other Contraptions (2 page)
The Word of God
The beginning of the end was very simple, but no one suspected it.
Ofer searched through his pockets like a man possessed. “A pen!” he said. “My kingdom for a pen!” and immediately found one, in the pocket of his shirt, and upon returning home he discovered that the door refused to open. He couldn’t understand why.
~
“This time it will work,” she said to herself, while waiting at the café for a guy she had never seen. “This time it will work out. He will be handsome, rich, intelligent, kind, considerate, and he will fall madly in love with me. I know it.”
And so it was.
~
“I wish I had a shekel for every time you said you’ll be here on time,” Uri Schwartz said to Rafi, his business partner.
Pop!
Something said, and a heap of coins materialized around him, swallowing him whole.
“I don’t believe it,” said Rafi. “Shit!”
His fate was much worse.
~
“Moshe, you stupid lump of meat!” shouted fat Nati at his rebellious nephew and
Pop! —and
in the end, the rest of the family enjoyed a particularly delicate barbeque on the nearest traffic-island.
“Look Dad,” said Yoni, “Meow! I’m a cat! —
Pop!
—Meow! Meow! Meo...”
~
“Thank you very much!” Rivka Meirovich said to her neighbor. “What a wonderful cake! You’re pure gold!”
Pop!
Those, so it turned out immediately, were the most profitable words she’s ever said.
~
“Yes, oh... you’re so good, you’re great, oh... yes, yes... Oh, Rami, yes, more, more, you’re so big, you’re
huge
, you’re—”
Pop!
It was a mess.
~
“Listen to me, and listen good,” said the sergeant, “You’re all a bunch of fucking dicks!”
Pop.
“Oh my God!” said the sergeant.
I am the Lord your God, said the voice of pop gravely, and something appeared—the last thing the sergeant ever saw in his life.
Do not take my name in vain!
~
The middle of the end was rather complicated, but man generally continued undeterred with his own affairs.
“I wish His Honor happiness and wealth, but such as can not be interpreted literally or constitute a form of harm to His Honor or any of his family, friends or acquaintances.”
“Thank you,” said the judge to the council of defense. “Is the defendant ready to have his say before this court?”
“Your Honor,” the defendant said, and stood up. “If you don’t release me right now, I swear I’m going to stand here and say you’re a...”
The court’s security guard shot to his feet. “The accused is a stinking dog!” he roared. And so it was.
“Thank you,” the judge said. “The council of defense is asked to properly muzzle its clients in the future.”
Woof! Grrrrr!
~
“I’m a millionaire!”
Pop.
~
“I want all the stinking Ashkenazim to die!” roared Ya’akov.
Nothing happened. The neighbor from upstairs—an Ashkenazi—continued to play the piano as if the word of God or man meant nothing to him, and the hour wasn’t between two and four in the afternoon.
“That stinking Ashkenazi,” muttered Ya’akov, and suddenly his nostrils were assailed by a terrible, nauseating smell. He understood immediately. He stood, smiled the best of his smiles and said, quietly and confidently, “all the stinking Ashkenazim are dead!”
The piano fell silent at once, but Ya’akov will no longer enjoy the silence between two and four. He forgot that he had a Polish grandmother.
~
“Men are such animals, I tell you...”
“Look what you did! You’re an idiot!”
“Huh...?”
“Look! You turned them into animals! What are you, crazy?”
“Oooo! Animals! Funny animals!”
“What?”
“Animals! Woof woof!”
“Ah. Fine, you’re not an idiot. You’re all right. And, uh... you owe me a thousand shekels.”
~
“I’m a millionaire!”
Pop.
~
“... and men are not animals. They’re wonderful, considerate human beings. And I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“What... what happened? Where am I?”
“Don’t worry. You’re beautiful and calm and you trust me implicitly. Now, about those thousand shekels...”
~
“I’m a millionaire!”
Pop.
~
“...the headlines: this is the third day since the death of all the Arabs, and the government has still not found a suitable solution to the removal of the bodies, due to opposition from the religious parties. A discussion on the subject is currently taking place in the Knesset Committee for Security and External Affairs.
“The extreme Right’s demonstration is about to conclude its twenty-third day, and today, for the first time, a speech was delivered by Rabbi Meir Kahane, who has returned from the dead—due, it seems, to the name of the movement he had left behind him. A spokesman for
Kahane Alive
, however, was not available for comment.
“The Knesset’s Finance Committee announces that, as of today, no one is a millionaire except those who were millionaires before the start of current events, and that furthermore no one will from now on be able to say to himself that he is a millionaire.”
~
“I’m very rich!”
Pop
.
~
“I’m the most beautiful woman in the world! And I’m sixteen!”
Pop
.
~
“Republicans for Government!”—“Labour for Government!”—“Torah for Government!”—“Communists for Government!”—“Torah for Government!”...
~
“... in other news, the giant eye that appeared in the sky above Jordan and looked towards Jerusalem disappeared after the security forces became involved, and the government has now decreed that citizens will refrain from singing the national anthem, in particular the phrase referencing the ‘Eye on Zion’... .
... The weather today will be calm and pleasant, with mild temperatures and low humidity, and we will be repeating this ceaselessly for the next several days, so there is no point in you trying to change it.”
~
“Jews for Government!”—“Arabs for Government!”—“Ashkenazim for Government!”—“Mizrachim for Government!”...
~
“There is world peace! Forever! And no one can say anything to change it!”
Pop.
~
“Kibbutzim for Government!”—“Workers for Government!”—“Taxi drivers for Government!”—“The Pensioners’ Union for Government!”—“The lawyers, without conditions and limitations, and for an unlimited period of time...”
~
“I pray to you, the Lord our God, to return things to the way they were and put faith into the nation and bring peace on Israel. Amen.” But in vain.
~
“Me for Government! I rule the world, and no one can ever contradict it now or ever or until I say so, not even God!”
I am the Lord your God
. And something appeared, and darkness came.
~
In the end, it was simplicity that won, but no one will ever know it.
The boy was playing in the sandbox when the word of man became the word of God. In the beginning, one of the big kids approached him threateningly.
“You’re going away,” said the boy, and
pop
, his antagonist went.
The kindergarten teacher came and watched him.
“Honey,” she said, “Do you like playing in the sand?”
“I love you,” he said.
Pop
.
“You’re cute,” she said.
Pop
. “You’re the most wonderful and beautiful and smartest kid in the world!”
Pop
.
“You love me,” he said.
Pop
.
She looked at him admiringly. “My cuteness, my gorgeous one, you’re almost an adult already.”
Pop
.
The kindergarten teacher and the teenager lay in the sandbox.
“My God, that was good,” he said.
I am the God your Lord
, said the voice of
pop
gravely, and something appeared—the last thing the boy ever saw in his life.
Do not use my name in vain!
But the boy only smiled, and his blind eyes stared into the empty air, and for the first and last time man turned to God and said,
I am the God your Lord.
And so it was.
Contraption: Time Machine
The time machine emits a flawless, continuous flow of time. In all the history of the universe, the flow has been interrupted only twice. One of those times was what those poor scientists call “The Big Bang,” assuming—mistakenly—that it was the beginning of our universe, which is in fact much older than that. The other time occurred just... now.
My Uncle Gave Me a Time Machine
August 29, 2001, 23:04
Today, for my birthday, my Uncle Haim brought me a present. He always tries to be cool, with his funny moustache, which looks fake, and those glasses which make him look like someone from a really old TV show, from the seventies or something. And he always tries to bring me presents that won’t be just like any other present, and generally, as he says, breaking the rules. Two years ago, when he got back from America, he brought me a chemistry experiment kit, and I almost got my face burned off. Mom didn’t respond well to that. Last year he brought me a snake, and Mom almost kicked him out of the house. I can really see why Dad ran away from her.
Anyway, I think Uncle Haim learned his lesson, because this year he brought me a record. A vinyl record. A very strange one, and not by any band I ever heard of. It’s not as cool as the snake, but still it’s not bad, really, because I don’t have too many records for my old and totally retro turntable, and I don’t think anyone else has a copy of this record. But I didn’t want to show him that I liked it, because then he’d nag me about it. And also Mom would be pissed if she saw that I liked something that he brought me. So I just said “thank you” very nicely and went to my room.
Oh, and Mom bought me a small and really slick electronic journal, which isn’t so bad either. Last year she bought me a laptop computer, but that was because I kept nagging her for a whole year. This year I didn’t have the energy for it. The journal doesn’t look too new, but that’s probably because she didn’t have much money left after buying me that computer. Never mind.
~
August 29, 2001, 23:14
This record looks pretty old, really. It looks like it’s been played a million times already. It’s totally grooved. The name of the band is silly,
Pita Morgana
. What does that mean? The name of the album is also stupid,
The Universe in a Pita
. Someone probably had a fixation on Pita bread. Or is it an inside joke? Anyway, I listened to two songs already, and it’s some kind of weird rock. Reminds me a little of The Police, when they just started, and still liked to shout a lot, before they started making white reggae music. There’s a guitar and a bass and drums and a singer, and that’s about it. But the lyrics, those are kind of... weird. Mom shouted at me through the door to turn down the volume, but Uncle Haim calmed her down. I locked the door, just for safety. Twice. And I put the key in my pocket. Sometimes he’s really ok, Uncle Haim, when he’s not being such a
nudnik
. I wonder where he got this record from.
~
August 29, 2001, 23:40
I listened to the whole album. In the middle of it there’s one really cool song called
My Uncle Gave Me a Time Machine
. It goes something like this:
My uncle gave me a time machine, it is a jolly day,
A silly greeting card he added, on the wrapping lay,
And the machine a button has, upon which you may press
To move time in reverse
Like a video, I guess,
So cool, yes yes!
(Funny, but I took the gift wrapping back out of the trashcan to look at it. He did put a silly greeting card there. Nudnik he may be, but he’s got a sense of humor. Sort of.)
My uncle gave me a time machine, and now I’ve got to know
Is it really working, or is it just for show?
Now I shall investigate
Whether Time has a fixed state
I’m gonna press the button, mate!
And then, right after the singer says that, the song starts going in reverse. Cool! It goes backwards faster and faster, and somehow turns around again, like a fast forward, which slows down, and then comes the third chorus:
My uncle gave me a time machine, and it works like cheese & mutton
Now I know that I must never ever press the button!
Remember, children, it’s a crime,
To go like that and travel in time,
And now I feel ready and prime,
To press the button again—
Cuz I LIKE traveling in time!
The rhyming could be much better, right, but then the reverse starts all over again, but messier and noisier than before, and goes faster and overturns and then there’s an ending like in a rock show, when everybody just hits the instruments ’til they’ve had enough. Not bad at all!
~
August 29, 2001, 23:38
I listened to it again. It’s the best song on the album. And I just noticed another funny thing. On the back of the sleeve, like in every other album, there’s a list of all the songs with their playing times, like,
Zero Gravity Shower: 4:12
,
Dark Side of the Sun: 3:56
, etc., but near the playing time of this particular song there’s a small dash, which I think could be a minus sign. Someone there really put some effort into that joke.
~
August 29, 2001, 23:35
I listened to it again, and then I noticed something weird. My wristwatch doesn’t match the cuckoo clock. I keep them synchronized, and the cuckoo always runs ok, especially when you consider the fact that it’s been hanging on the wall since Grandpa and Grandma lived here, which is a really long time. Now that I’m checking, the clock of the electronic journal doesn’t match the wristwatch either. Something’s weird here.
~
August 29, 2001, 23:28
That song is really addictive. I listened to it three more times, and I still haven’t had enough. I looked at the times of the entries I just put in the journal, and they seem to go backwards, with each entry written previous to... eh, to the previous one. But when I sat and looked at the journal’s clock, it seemed to be going forward. Either the journal is fucked up, or I’ve got some kind of time machine here. Ha ha. Someone’s knocking at the door, but I left it locked.
Nudniks
.
~
August 29, 2001, 23:20
This isn’t funny. Either I’m hallucinating, or this song is actually taking me back in time. Two minutes and something every time. I knew Uncle Haim wouldn’t bring me just a regular record. I
knew
it. How do I know? Because the computer’s clock doesn’t agree with my wristwatch either, and in fact all the clocks in the room agree with each other, except for the wristwatch. I’m going to listen to this song some more, just to make sure.
~
August 29, 2001, 23:04
Oh yes, for sure. Done deal. That thing is a time machine. But what can you do with a time machine that moves you two minutes back in time? I think I’m going to make an experiment, break the rules, like Uncle Haim says. Who says that I have to play the song on a turntable? I’ll sample it to my laptop computer. I have this software that can take any sound and do whatever I want with it. I’ll make it play the song over and over at high speed, and we’ll see what happens. Cool!
~
March 31, 1964, 10:12
Damn! I don’t believe it!
~
March 31, 1964, 10:20
Oh my God, I’m stuck here!
~
March 31, 1964, 22:34
Ok, you must relax, man. Wait a minute. Let’s think about what happened here. Ok, what happened was this: I sampled the song into the computer, and then played it really fast lots of times. Then the cuckoo clock on the wall started going backwards, really really fast, and the computer played the song faster and faster and got stuck, and wouldn’t stop even though I pressed all the buttons, and then it started making weird noises, and I don’t know what, and then the paint on the walls changed its colors, and the wardrobe suddenly vanished, and the bed was replaced with some other bed, and there was a real mess. Then somehow I managed to stop it. I looked at the date the computer showed and then I freaked out. 1964. I couldn’t believe it at first, but then some thug entered the room and asked me, in some sort of silly Polish accent, what the hell I was doing in his house. I told him that it was
my
house, and then he grabbed my ear and threw me out. Schmuck.
I wanted to try the software again, but the battery in the computer died.
I’m stuck here.
~
April 1, 1964, 14:16
That thug, I just realized, is Grandpa Efraim. It occurred to me after spending the whole night in his garden, which I remember playing in when I was little. It was really cold last night. I’ve decided to sell him some story about being a remote relative, so that he’ll let me sleep inside. I know enough interesting things about our family to convince him. I hope. Now I just have to wait for him to come home from work.
~
April 1, 1964, 19:35
When Grandpa Efraim got home from work I went up to him, told him that I’m a distant relative, and that I just arrived in the country, and that I don’t know my way around too well, and I added all the stuff I knew about him and Grandma, everything he told me when I was little, how they both came to Israel without anything, and were pioneers, and worked hard in drying the swamps and all that. And then he told me that he never heard such stupid lies, not even on April Fool’s Day, and grabbed my ears and threw me out. Nice job, Grandpa. The only person in the family I ever trusted. I should have known better.
~
April 2, 1964, 11:18
One more night in this garden and I’m dead. I’m itching everywhere, and I have a cold. I
have
to get inside, somehow. I think I’ll talk to Grandma. She died before I was born, and, considering the sad state of Grandpa’s reliability, there’s not much that I know about her, but I’ve got to try.
~
April 2, 1964, 16:20
I made it! I think Grandma adopted me. I told her all sorts of weird stories about how I came to Israel, and made them as different as possible from the stories Grandpa used to tell. I also made sure to be properly impressed and excited about her newborn baby twins – that is, Dad and Uncle Haim. That worked quite well. I just have to convince her enough so that when Grandpa comes back from work, he doesn’t throw me out.
~
April 2, 1964, 19:40
Grandpa came back from work and threw me out.
Damn.
~
April 3, 1964, 10:50
Grandma found me, half-dead and shivering, in the garden. She took me inside. I think I got pneumonia.
~
May 5, 1964, 12:42
I was really sick for about a month. Grandma took care of me. I think she likes me. I didn’t see much of Grandpa, probably because she didn’t let him come in the room. I didn’t see much of the twins either, but I heard them a lot. They cry so much, it gives me a migraine. Anyway, while being stuck in bed with nothing to do I had an idea: the record is still in the house. All I need to do is play it over and over again
backwards
, and it’ll get me back to my own time. I’m just waiting for them to let me get out of bed. I feel dizzy.
~
May 12, 1964, 10:37
Yesterday I finally got out of bed. Grandpa was already at work, and Grandma, after brewing me a disgusting cup of tea and making me drink it, took the babies and went to work too. I was left alone in the house, and immediately went to work trying my idea. I found the record in the trash heap outside, put it in the old phonograph, put the needle on the right track and started rolling the plate backwards like crazy. I spent six hours like this, my finger hurts like crazy, and all I’ve managed is to do is reach
now
. This isn’t going to work.
And Grandpa threw my computer out and got it broken.
I’m stuck here.
It’s hot during the day, cold at night, there’s no TV, no computer, no internet, no friends. Not like I had any friends before, but still...
This just can’t be. It can’t go on like this.
I have to keep turning the record.
~
May 12, 1964, 19:22
Grandpa came back from work, saw me turning the record, grabbed my ear and threw me out of the house.
I have to find another solution.
At least it’s gotten a little bit less cold here in the garden, at night.
~
May 14, 1964, 13:46
I know what I have to do. It’s horrible, but it’ll solve the problem. It’s the only solution.
I have to break the rules.
I have to murder Uncle Haim.
If I kill him, he won’t be able to give me the album. And then I won’t go back in time, and everything will be all right. He deserves it, really. That silly sense of humor.
Nudnik
.
The problem is that I have no idea who’s who. They’re identical twins, only a few months old, and I don’t think even Grandma herself can tell the difference. But I bet finding out is much easier than going back to 2001.
I hope.
Meanwhile, I put up a tent in the garden. Grandma gives me half a
lira
a week to keep an eye on the babies while she’s at work. Excellent.
~
May 22, 1964, 17:54
I figured it out. I thought about it a lot, dug out everything that I knew about Dad and Uncle Haim, and now I know. I always teased Uncle Haim about his glasses and his moustache and his silly artificial tan, and he always told me that he’s tanned because when they were little, his bed was the one near the window, and Dad was in the bed near the wall. There you go, Uncle Haim, everybody knows that too much tanning can cost you your life.
~
May 23, 1964, 18:05
No. I can’t do it. I’m no murderer.
But I’m stuck here.
But it can’t be.
But I’m stuck here.
And it’s all Uncle Haim’s fault. He’s the one to blame. No matter how you look at it, it’s his fault. The schmuck.
But he’s a baby.
But he’ll grow up to become Uncle Haim.
Damn.
It can’t be. It just can’t.
~
May 25, 1964, 18:05
It can’t be. It just can’t.
I killed him, and I’m still here.
Grandpa and Grandma haven’t come home from work yet, and I don’t know what to do. He’s dead—I smothered him with a pillow—and I’m still here. How can that be? Damn!
It can’t be!
~
May 25, 1964, 18:09
Oh, no. No no no. I understand now.
I killed the wrong baby.
