The Devil Knocks by Frank Rich

Author:Frank Rich
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sf_action

14

It was well past noon, and the crowd was getting ugly. The roadies sweated and cursed under the sporadic hail of obscenities and debris raining down on the stage beneath a huge acoustic shell. The mixed crowd milled on the park's grass, near the verge of open rebellion, when a thin man with a long white beard glided to the mike stand, his flowing yellow robe fluttering behind him. After adjusting the wreath of flowers atop his long white hair, he began cooing into the mike.

"Calm, people! Let peace and serenity flow into your souls. Change through nonviolence is the only truly righteous path." He broke into a fit of ohming.

"Who's the guru?" I asked.

"That's Babbit," Monique revealed. "He heads the Children of the Yellow Rose, Denver's largest pacifist group."

There were many people in flowing robes in the audience, and they ohmed with him. "He seems to have a following."

"He has a huge following. He's been resisting the Party for more than ten years, since Remi came to power."

"Not very good at his job, is he?"

"What do you mean?"

"If a man has been trying to do something for ten years and hasn't done it yet, he must not be trying very hard. Ten to one he's working for Remi."

A shocked expression crossed Monique's face. "I think you're wrong."

"We'll see."

A heavy woman wearing a robe ohmed by, handing out yellow fliers. Despite the uniformed spifs ringing the crowd, the woman didn't seem the least bit apprehensive. Below a flattering picture of Babbit it read:

A multireligious seminar featuring Daddi Babbit and representatives of other faiths will be held at Cheesman Park this Sunday, September 27th, commencing at 2:30 p.m.

A ragged cheer went up as a quartet of revrockers took the stage, brandishing old-fashioned digital guitars and the kind of drums you actually had to hit with a stick. Babbit finished his chant and floated away.

"We're End of Story," said the front man, who sported a Mohawk haircut. "And I've a story to tell you. It's about this faraway kingdom called Revned. An evil king ruled Revned. His name was Imer, a very hard cat. If anybody dinked him, he sent his evil fairies out to kill them. Until one day…" his voice got louder "…some of the goddamn people got tired of this king's lame shit and tore his mongo frigging tower down and killed all his evil fairies and hung the king by his balls and everybody lived happily ever after. End of story."

Mild applause and a few shouts of "right on!" answered the tale, soon drowned out by a wave of chanting from the robed element.

"This song's called 'Welcome to Hell, I Hope You Like It Here,'" the front man said, and the band launched into a searing revrock number. A slam-dance pit began to churn in front of the stage.

"Let's move closer," I said.

"You're not going to slam-dance, are you?" Monique asked.

"Do I seem like the type?"

"Yes."

"I guess I will, then."

We pushed through the crowd toward the pit, my blood rising.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.