Resisting everything except...
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By andrew_pack
- 778 reads
Resisting everything except...
I didn't tend to think about the Devil a great deal. No more than most.
I'd tried and failed to finish The Devil Rides out and I may have booed
him at pantomimes, but that was about it.
On those rare occasions when I did think about him, I would imagine him
to be in red tights, or if in more formal wear a business suit. He
would be lean, dark-haired and have a somewhat pointed face. A beard
would almost certainly be there and he would have bright, hungry
eyes.
I didn't envisage him to be wearing a Nirvana T-shirt, pulling lettuce
out of a Big Mac and to look like Norm from Cheers. Or for him to be
running my local corner shop.
As I approached the counter, the Devil wiped his meat-greased fingers
on his T-shirt and said hello.
I put my purchases in front of him, some Rich Tea biscuits, a jar of
gravy browning, four tins of cat food and a Twix. He rang them up and
asked me if I'd ever considered what to do with my soul ?
He spoke more like a pensions advisor than a force of darkness. He told
me plainly and simply that the soul was the most valuable asset I had,
but it was wasted sitting around, when I could be earning from it
now.
"You're going to live another forty-six years, " he said, "What good is
your sould going to be to you for all that time ? I could give you
whatever you want for it, right now. "
I was sceptical, and my cats had been pretty hungry when I'd left the
house.
"You get it back when you die. I just borrow it during your life. It's
like a lease arrangement. Come on, it's not like you use it. "
I handed over the money and kept my soul.
Nobody else seemed to have noticed that the new owner of the corner
shop was the Devil. I didn't ask them outright of course, just asked
people what they thought of him. Maybe they were all keeping quiet for
the same reason I was.
That Sunday, he was slipping the supplements into the papers when I
went into the shop for an Observer and a pint of milk. I tried to avoid
eye contact with him.
The Devil said, "Whatever you want, I can get for you. I borrow your
soul, you won't even know its gone. There must be something you want.
"
I needed some long matches, for the stove, but I had enough money for
those. He handed me a flyer for a new record store.
I've loved music for years, so even though the Devil seemed a little
crazy, on Tuesday I decided that I would pop into the new shop and see
for myself.
The Devil was running that shop as well. He recognised me as soon as I
came in and told me to have a good look around. I thumbed through the
racks, bored at first, but after a few minutes, I had twelve albums in
my hand and the Devil was bringing me a basket. You don't often get
baskets in record stores, even independent ones, but I guess this one
did a lot of trade.
"This is a Beatles album I've never heard of. Not a bootleg, an actual
Beatles album. This is the album the Beach Boys never made after Pet
Sounds, but where Lennon joined the band. This here is Bona Drag, but
its by the Smiths, not just Morrissey. Johnny Marr does the guitars -
even on Every day is like Sunday... "
I was pretty excited. Any music fan would have been.
The Devil grinned, he had mustard on his front teeth, "Haven't you
heard ? I have all the best tunes. "
I paused, "Can I pay for these with Switch ? "
"Sure, " said the Devil, "No problem. "
I relaxed. For a moment, I assumed that the price would be my soul, and
I would have had to stand around in the shop for twenty minutes
weighing up the decision.
"Good decisions, " said the Devil, bagging up my records, "You should
come in next week - I've got the album that the Stone Roses would have
bought out in 92, if they hadn't been really wasted. And a Jackson Five
where Michael never aged and stayed black. "
On one of my regular trips to the record store, the Devil winked at me
and asked me if I liked movies, as he was thinking of opening a
cinema.
"The record store is going really well, " he said, "And I've got a book
shop in Fulham. That's taking huge amounts of money. Do you like films
? "
I love films. And I loved the idea of the films that might be on in the
Devil's cinema.
"The business is keeping me busy though, " said the Devil, "I might
want a manager. Either for here, or for the cinema. Interested ?
"
"Is this going to cost me my soul ? "
The Devil spread his hands, palms up, "Ah, you got me. Yeah, that would
be the deal. You work for me, you can weave the films you dreamed of.
Get to meet the actors, even the starlets. Cast Monroe in a Vietnam
pic, DeNiro and Bogart together in a gangster piece, have Rocky get his
ass kicked. Whatever you like. "
"And the soul thing ? "
"I borrow your soul, for so long as you're working for me. You quit,
you get your soul back. In pristine condition. Nobody will ever know
I've used it. "
It was very tempting. That was the point, I guess. That's what he
does.
"What exactly are you going to do with my soul ? "
"That, " said the Devil, showing me an album where Bacharach and Billie
Holliday had collaborated, "Is a question you don't really want
answered. "
"Ah, what the hell, " I say, "Where do I sign ? "
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