There was a monotonous ringing in my right ear while I scanned the Oyster card. My throat was still sore, and I felt like every step would force me down onto my knees. The bus driver, an old man, didn’t look at me. I still heard the deafening techno music and smelled the two packs of cigarettes I had devoured the night before. I had left the club twenty minutes ago and was now on my way to work.
It must have been raining all morning. The windows were fogged up, welcoming the passengers with a too humid embrace. Nobody wanted to be here–at six a.m., on a Monday, on the 18 towards Marylebone.
The bus started moving and me with it, us dancing a strange duet without rhythm or form, that ended with me grabbing onto a rail. Carrying myself to the staircase, the bus’s movement dictated mine like the ocean a rubber duck’s; every turn, every red light, another wave that pushed me away.
Clutching the railing, trying to defeat the vertigo I was standing before the staircase: Sisyphus without a boulder. I took my first step and then another, weary of every muscle that I had to use. At last, I made it up with wobbling knees and staggered to the first pair of chairs I saw.
A man in a suit with a briefcase right beside him and his arms laid on top, as if it were his new-born, sat there looking ahead. As I came closer, he made no efforts in attempting to acknowledge my existence, much less to move the briefcase out of the way.
“Sorry.”
My voice like sandpaper and an octave too deep cut through the morning silence. I heard a shrill scream and was relieved that it wasn’t because of me; just the brakes being brought to their limits trying to tame the bus, splattering water everywhere as we arrived at Ealing Road. The man looked me up and down, as if I had spat on his shoes and then moved his suitcase onto his knees.
The moment had come, and I sat down. The weakness in my legs was now only a vague idea; suggested but not fully formed and I let out a loud sigh of relief, enjoying this brief moment of peace and relaxation.
“Thomas.”
I looked around.
“Thomas.”
I did not imagine that. Somebody spoke to me.
“Up here.”
I looked up and there it was shining onto me: a light.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“It is I,” a voice answered. Not distinguishable if male or female, but just a voice. I looked to the man beside me and the people in front of me. No one seemed to notice or care.
“Sorry who?” I asked again.
“It is I!” the light repeated.
“That doesn’t help me much mate, does it?” I was too hungover for a bright light to shine into my face. I tried to look away.
A “Don’t defy me!” replaced the tinnitus that I had and almost shattered my ear drums, as the bus came to a screeching halt.
“Tring Avenue,” a mechanical woman’s voice said as the other bodiless voice started speaking again.
“I am who you think I am. I have come to reveal myself to you and make you be the one who spreads my word.”
“How do you know what I’m thinking,” I asked.
“I know all of it. There is nothing in my creation that I do not know or understand.”
“What am I thinking right now?” I asked, trying to think of something random.
“EastEnders.”
“Fuck me.”
“Indeed,” the voice said.
“I want you to spread my word, Thomas,” the voice continued.
“Didn’t you have someone for that before?” I asked.
“As the ages shift and the seasons of time evolve, there arises a necessity for the re-examination of my sacred doctrine. It is my will that you shall become the vessel of reinterpretation, carrying forth this noble task.”
“What?”
“Spread my word, Thomas and become the new Messiah.”
I opened my eyes and looked into the light. I felt like it was burning my eyes.
“Mate, that ain’t me. You have the wrong guy. I could refer you to a friend who’s into religion though.”
Blood played a drum solo against my temple, so that I had a hard time concentrating on anything. I just wanted to enjoy the last few moment of doing nothing before I had to work the entire day.
“It is you I want.”
“Well, I’m honoured but I really have to go to work.”
“This will be your work now.”
“Nah mate, I don’t think so. I work at a fish restaurant on Marylebone High Street. My shift starts in like,” and I looked on my phone.
“Fuck me, fifteen minutes.”
Silence for a few seconds. Then the light spoke again.
“Verily, this is ordained for the betterment of all, for every soul in this age and those yet unborn, encompassing men, women, and the innocent children. Your word shall become their sacred gospel, and generations henceforth shall venerate your name for the blessings you shall bestow upon them: peace, love, and the teachings divine. Go forth, and disseminate my message, for there is naught that can rival the gravity of this task; indeed, nothing ever was, is, or shall ever be of greater importance.”
I only understood a third of what was being said here.
“I only understand a third of what is being said here,” I said.
“But I still have to pay my rent,” I continued,
“So, thanks, but no thanks.”
I shrugged my shoulders and waited for the light to respond. For a moment there was silence. It felt like the light was taken aback. I made it uncomfortable.
“With me by your side everything will work out.” It finally said. I looked up to it, the harsh white making me dizzy.
“I asked for your help multiple times before. Where were you then?”
“I was testing you and you passed.”
“Yeah, no worries, still would have loved to keep my car, or have a nice landlord or win the lottery, or I don’t know, just anything, really. Made it this far without you, so I think I’m going to take my chances, cheers.”
For a moment it seemed like the light flickered in front of my face, as if someone was playing with a switch.
“You are making a mistake,” it said with a tone of almost childish stubbornness. The gravitas and the big words were gone, leaving behind the same voice my boss has, when I tell him I can’t work late.
I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, was probably still high and had to pay my rent. Even if I had made a big mistake, I couldn’t care less.
“Well smite me down then!” I yelled and with that closed my eyes again.
I expected to hear the voice get angry, or even a lightning striking the bus, but nothing happened. The unnerving brightness that I felt before was gone. No flickering. The only sounds I heard were people chattering and the bus moving. The light vanished, and I was finally engulfed in darkness.
Darkness I enjoyed. The one on summer nights, when it is still warm outside, slowly lulling me from one end of my subconscious to the next, as if laying on a hammock. Drowning out the pain and the worries, only leaving me with a sense of satisfaction. I was all consumed and didn’t care about people, my job, or the light. The darkness embraced me like an old friend, and I embraced it back. Feeling it pull me into its kingdom of nothingness.
There deep down, through this midst of darkness and relaxation that was continuously accompanied by the monotonous ringing that I couldn’t seem to shake off, right there, a new sound emerged. First unintelligible and far away but coming closer and closer until:
“The driver had been told to wait at this bus stop for a short time to even out the service.”
In panic I jumped up.
Where was I? What happened? How long had I been asleep for? I looked at my phone.
“Fuck,” I said.
God had left me, and I was already late for work.
Let me know what you thought of the story and if you have any ideas for my next one let me know!