The Duppy by Anthony C. Winkler

Author:Anthony C. Winkler [Winkler, Anthony C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781933354330
Publisher: Akashic Books
Published: 1996-12-31T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

For the next few weeks, God and me gallivanted all over the countryside. We went to cricket match, agricultural fair, and hiked up mountain trails where we would bawl “Moo” to cows grazing on hillside pastures, making them jump while we scampered off, laughing wildly. We trekked down to rivers for a swim in cool bubbling water while janga shrimp peered out suspiciously at us from the shadows of overhanging water reeds. A nicer, more good-natured companion than God a man can never have, and He and I romped during those fun-filled days over the countryside of heaven as carefree as schoolboys on summer holiday.

That was when I began to notice that American tourists were always going out of their way to attack and try to kidnap God.

One day, for example, as we were coming from the river, an American Baptist minister jumped out of the bush and swatted at God with a fishnet. I dropped the wretch with a good thump that made him squeal with ecstasy, and we grappled and rolled down the gorge, fighting and biting and shivering with the joy of thump. We ended up sprawled on the river bank, muddy water trickling over our clothes as we strangled each other, enjoying mutual suffocation while God soared over the fray and sparkled at our delight.

The Baptist jumped up and bellowed crossly that he hated fighting in heaven where a thump felt sweet, he couldn’t stand that shooting and knifing were all wholesome family values, and as far as he was concerned heaven was a demented and unholy land for which God was to blame.

But even as he said this he was chortling, for no man in heaven can be unhappy, and frustration only makes the malcontent happier.

Another time me and God were in the middle of administering a domino six-love in the side yard of my shop when two American Junior Chamber of Commerce leaders rushed though the gate and tried to chop up God with a machete, hacking so wildly that they slashed off the foot of a bystander who loafed nearby criticizing the play.

This being heaven, the severed limb immediately sprang back like a frisky frog and reattached itself, occasioning no bodily harm and tickling the victim.

The rest of us grabbed the brutes and beat them so hard that they begged us not to stop. They swore afterwards that the experience of a Jamaican village beating was more delightful than being hanged last year for spitting on a street in Singapore. From now on, they vowed, as we threw them out onto the street, they would spread the word to their friends about the wonders of a Jamaican lick.

In a third episode, two American Bible students hid themselves in a tree overhanging the footpath leading to the river and tried to drop a grocery bag over God as He flew past. I pulled them off the limb and gave them such a satisfying kick that they immediately bent over and begged a second helping.

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