Murphy's Law - 4. Confirmation

Life now would be all that Clan Murphy could desire were it not for the mysterious noise which waxes steadily until it reaches the point where it becomes somewhat recognizable. At night, when all should be relatively quiet save for assorted grunts and snorts, it now sounds very much, but not exactly, like combat. This puzzles Murphy - who would still be fighting after dark? And he can see everyone else thinking along the same lines. Yet this is not the worst new phenomenon. Now there is also a smell, a very odd, penetrating smell not at all like the smell of the mundane world, a smell to which everyone is so inured no one ever notices it. This new smell is not the smell of feces, urine or sweat. No, nothing so sweet and comforting. This is a stench that runs on the breeze, wafting here, there and everywhere. It is indescribable and, unlike the new sound, not masked by the daytime routine. There is a quality to it that Murphy cannot describe, a sharpness, a tang he could almost taste. It makes him ill.

Watt, on the other hand, can't get enough of it, or so it seems to Murphy. Every time Murphy looks at his former Priest he has his nose in the air sniffing. Looking at Pozzo, on the other hand, you'd never guess there was anything out of the ordinary going on. He goes about his affairs head bowed, eyes on the muck, never betraying by word or look that something has changed. Yet something has. There is no denying it. Murphy has no idea what it is but clearly it is something. Of course the smell and the sound are from the same source, that goes without saying. Not so long ago neither existed, in Murphy's experience anyway, but now they both do. And the something the new phenomena belong to is getting closer, that much is obvious. Even if that something hadn't existed until recently the sound of it grows louder and the stench of it grows stronger every day so it has to be moving toward them. Murphy can see that with the exception of Watt his people are unsettled. And now he notices something else. Watt is gazing into the distance and Murphy suddenly realizes Watt has been doing that frequently the past few days, and always in that one direction. Just then, a breeze floats by and carries with it the new smell and Murphy realizes that whatever the something is it is in the direction in which both he and Watt are at that moment gazing. The mysterious new something is that way.

Murphy cannot imagine what this mysterious something is. It is outside his worldview. Insects make sounds but just barely. For it to be insects it would have to be more insects than Murphy can imagine exist. Can it be people? Murphy tries to imagine what his clan sounds like to the surrounding clans. How far does the sound of one clan carry? Two or three clans away perhaps, certainly no further. If it's people it has to be a very large number of clans. The world makes sound and smell too. Thunder and the smell of rain. But not continuously, not constantly growing stronger. This whole thing is too disturbing. The Law accounts for everything and nothing like this is in the Law. As he looks around him he sees his concern is shared. Amidst all the people of his own clan and those of many surrounding clans he can see only one face not furrowed with concern. One evening Murphy sends for Watt.

"You seem to be the only person in the clan who is pleased by these new phenomena," he says once Watt is settled before him. "And this is simply because they are different?"

Watt nods.

"What's so wonderful about different?"

Watt squirms, looks away.

"Well?" says Murphy.

"Well," Watt sighs. "It's something I never imagined, something I didn't know about."

"That's the very thing that bothers everyone else!" Murphy exclaims. "How can that be good?"

Watt looks at Murphy.

"I hardly know where to begin," he says. Then, looking around, he adds, "I thought all things were known. There was sun and clouds, day and night, the land, the people, the insects... That was all there was, that was this," as he makes a sweeping gesture. "That was the world. And the more I came to understand the world, the less I understood it."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" says Murphy.

"Well," says Watt. "Why, I guess. Why are things the way they are?"

"Why?" says Murphy. "Because it's the will of the Unnamable, that's why."

"Of course," Watt nods. "Nothing can be any way but the way He wants it. Which means this world must be exactly as He wants it. Which means He must want the Other People, He must want the combat, the killing, the Mad Ones. He must want everything just exactly the way it is. Otherwise it would be some other way. But why? Why does the Unnamable want this? Why make all this?"

"What a question!" says Murphy. "You have to have all this so we people have somewhere to live."

"But why people? Why does the Unnamable want people?"

"Why, to make shit of course."

"Of course," Watt agrees. "Shit is the only thing we produce so the Unnamable must want shit. In this clan we make Good Shit, other clans make Bad Shit. You make Holy Shit. But why?"

"Why what?" says Murphy.

"Well, there's the question of why the Unnamable wants shit, but a more interesting question is why does He have people make it? He's omnipotent. If He wants shit He can simply make it Himself. As much as He wants, of whatever quality. He doesn't need us to make shit. Which makes me wonder if there are things He does need us for."

"Don't be absurd," says Murphy. "The Unnamable doesn't need anything."

"No?" says Watt. "Then why are we here? Without us who would pray to Him, who would worship Him, who would do the Shuffle correctly, say Matins correctly? In fact, who would do all those things incorrectly? Who would sin or doubt? Who would He reward or punish? I don't know why He wants those things but they exist so He does want them and it certainly looks to me like He needs us in order to have them."

Murphy suddenly leans his face very close to Watt's.

"You go too far," he rasps. "That way lies Madness. You need to be more humble. Who are you to ponder the ways of the Lord? There is but one answer to all these mysteries, all this splitting of hairs and that one answer answers all: the Unnamable."

There's a long silence. Then Watt snatches up a roach that's been crawling nearby and shows it to Murphy.

"Imagine if this roach could talk," he says. "This roach has no idea of the Unnamable, has never heard of the Unnamable. If I ask this roach, 'why is there all this, what is it all about, what's the point?' he would say, 'how should I know? I'm just a roach.'"

"So?" says Murphy.

"So," says Watt. "You and he end up with the same answer. It's a mystery, it's beyond your understanding."

"What exactly are you saying?" asks Murphy.

Watt shakes his head.

"I don't know," he says. "I guess I'm just saying we may not know everything we know."

"You like to speak in riddles," Murphy smiles. "Well two can play at that game. Put down your roach," he says. "And be yourself a roach."

In the days following, Murphy observes closely not only Watt but the other men as well: Molloy, Moran, Pozzo, even the boys like Shonso. Only Pozzo seems to pay not the slightest attention to the mysterious noise and stench. The rest try to conceal their interest but do so clumsily, and Watt doesn't even try. Murphy decides it's a good time to remind everyone what they believe and so one evening after the meal he has them all recite the Credo.

We believe in the One God Who is Unnamable.
We believe He sees all, hears all, knows all.
We believe He is all-powerful, all-merciful and all-loving.
We believe in Heaven and Hell.
We believe that Heaven is the land of Holy Shit.
We believe that Peace reigns in Heaven.
We believe that men in Heaven are ever virile and never lose their erections.
We believe that women in Heaven never menstruate and are always ready.
We believe that boys in Heaven don't have to hide their penises when they masturbate.
We believe that the women in Heaven actually enjoy fucking.
We believe that the Unnamable created Heaven and the One True Clan to enjoy it.
We believe that the first Big Mahaf of the One True Clan was Sturkulli.
We believe that the Unnamable gave Sturkulli the Law.
We believe that Sturkulli perverted the Law.
We believe that the Unnamable created a place filled with monsters called Demons and flying, screeching beasts called Harpies and named that place Hell.
We believe that Sturkulli was banished to Hell where he is the Big Mahaf.
We believe the entrance to Hell is the Hellmouth which is filled with teeth.
We believe the Harpies harass and steal the food of the Damned who are near the Hellmouth.
We believe the Demons drive the Damned into the Hellmouth, chomp, chomp, chomp.
We believe that Sturkulli causes the Other People to perform the rituals incorrectly.
We believe that only one clan truly follows the Law of the Unnamable and that clan is our clan, the One True Clan.
We believe that when the world has been cleansed of all the Other People this world will be one with Heaven and the One True Clan will inherit the shit.
We believe that the deceased of our clan are awaiting their entry into Heaven in a place called Limbo.
We believe Limbo is a place of peace and repose, but no fucking.
We believe that the land has been filled with the bad shit of the Other People.
We believe that the good shit of the One True Clan doesn't stink.
We believe that our Mahaf embodies the Unnamable here in the muck.
Amen.