The Book of Gud

Chapter LVI

Chapter 561,697 wordsPublic domain

Having passed through the graveyard of the gods, Gud came to a vast beyond where there really was nothing, when the gods are dead there can be nothing. And so Gud journeyed on, for he would not stop at nothing, and he came to a church, because it was Saturday night.

Crouched by the steps of the church was a poor old skeptic begging alms of faith.

"Why do you beg?" asked Gud.

"Because I have need of faith," said the skeptic.

"If I should give you a great amount of faith, would you use it to destroy your doubts, or would you go out and proclaim it to others, and thus give it all away?"

"Try me," said the skeptic.

"Then believe that I am Gud."

"I will, if you can prove it to me!"

"What proof shall I offer you?" asked Gud. For while he knew that proof was not necessary to faith, yet he was willing to humor the poor old skeptic because he was so weighted down with his burden of doubts.

"If you be Gud," said the skeptic, "then you should know all things."

"And that I do."

"Very well," said the skeptic, "how mad is a wet hen?"

Whereupon Gud called down fire from the heaven of that place and smote the blasphemer so that he died.

But when Gud called down the fire that smote the skeptic, alas, he destroyed the church house also. The next morning when the sun arose, behold the spot where the church had been was a greensward of two-bladed grass. But presently worshippers came and seated themselves upon the grass and lifted up their eyes in prayer.

Gud did not wait to see who answered their prayers, for he had gone on into a realm where the nights are as cold as greed, and where little stars are born--and comets, like tadpoles, lose their tails, and burst into shining suns.

And yet again Gud passed on beyond all stars and on and on until he reached the limits of thoughts, beyond which were only dim traces of imagination. And passing still on and ever on he came to a place where only the hope of faith abides, and lo, he was confronted here with a great wall of light.

And Gud knew--for he still knew all things--that this wall of light was the great and mighty wall that flings its shining reaches round about the City of the Forgotten Ghosts. These ghosts feared that dark memories, which were their only enemies, might find them out, so they had builded this mighty wall of light about their ghostly city.

But those who know all things need stop at nothing, and Gud, first casting off all memories that clung about him, kneeled down beside the wall of light and rubbed a little ring of pale intrusion. And behold a door of darkness opened in the wall of light. Gud arose and passed through the door of darkness in the wall of light. When he had passed through, the door of darkness closed behind him, and, having revoked all memories, Gud could not recall that it had been.

As Gud now journeyed through the outer environs of the City of the Forgotten Ghosts, he rejoiced to become aware that these were holy ghosts--for behold the way was lined with the shadows of ten thousand crosses whereon hung ten thousand crucified ghosts.

Seeing that he was among friends, Gud decided to tarry yet a little while.

He was very much interested to learn that the inhabitants of this realm were not merely the spiritual leftovers of deceased material beings, but were true ghosts who had always been ghosts. This fact puzzled Gud, but there was no doubt about its authenticity, for the ghosts had a revelation that testified to their purely ghostly origin.

All the ghosts accepted this revelation of their origin, but there were differences of opinion as to their destination. Having an honest difference of opinion about an unknowable matter, there was, of course, ample justification for the ten thousand crucified ghosts that hung on the shadows of crosses.

Among these ghosts, who were so positive about their origin and so uncertain about their destiny, there were two sects: the Spiritualists and the Materialists. The Spiritualists, knowing that they had always been spirits, argued that they would always remain spirits. But the Materialists decried this pessimistic faith and held forth a great hope that if they adhered to all the platitudes they would have the pleasure of shuffling off the immortal coil and being reborn as material beings.

It was the tenets of this sect that Gud espoused, for he admired the faith of these mere ghosts who had never sensed matter, and yet had lifted up their eyes in the hope of material life.

With his experience in such affairs Gud readily assumed the role of a prophet of this Materialistic faith. But it is not sufficient merely to call the righteous to repentance, and Gud indulged his imagination to think of some way to impress the skeptical Spiritualists with the truth of the Materialist faith.

It was Fidu who gave Gud the idea for the great miracle, for Fidu had remained close to his master, both of course, in their spiritual beings.

The ghosts were not aware that Fidu was among them, and not being familiar with dogs they walked right through him, ignoring the poor beast quite utterly, which was very humiliating to Fidu.

So Gud, in sympathy with the Underdog's humiliation, conceived of a great idea, and he called the leaders of the Materialist sect together and asked: "Have any of you ever sensed a material being?"

"No!" answered they, "we have never sensed matter, which is why we have faith in its existence."

"True," said Gud, "enough for the faithful, but these infidels, some of whom you neglected to crucify, have not faith without works. Let us therefore create a material being wherewith to confound them."

"And of what will you create a material being?"

"I usually create things out of nothing," answered Gud.

"But Master," cried the Ghosts, "we have very little of nothing. How much would it take?"

"It will suffice," said Gud, and he whistled to Fidu and straightway materialized him.

A real live dog weighing about twenty-seven pounds, running around through the ghosts, made quite a sensation; and it greatly delighted those of the Materialist faith and converted most of the Spiritualists.

Gud thought for a time he had converted all the infidels and skeptics in the realm to the true faith, but he later found that there was one little band upon whom the materialization of Fidu had made no impression. This sect denied the spiritual existence that they were living, and taught that there was no such a thing as the spirit, but that all was matter.

Gud could not understand why this sect should call themselves Materio-Spiritists, since they were certainly not Spiritualists, as they denied the existence of spirit--and yet they were not Materialists, for they did not believe in matter as matter, but in spirit as matter.

These Materio-Spiritists were not impressed by the miracle Gud had wrought in the interest of the orthodox Materialist faith. They believed that all was matter, yet they did not recognize matter when they met it in the road. They denied the matter-of-fact Fidu, and said he was only an illusion of the non-existent spiritual mind and hence could have no existence, material or immaterial.

Even when Gud took the material dog to their place of worship and had him bark at the service, they still argued that the material Fidu was non-existent.

Gud was a little crest-fallen at his inability to convert the Materio-Spiritists, and yet the more he argued with them, the more doubtful he became of his own convictions. In fact, he became so confounded that he forgot what his convictions were, and was not sure whether he was a ghost or not, or whether the material dog was real or imaginary.

Finally, to settle his doubts, Gud decided to kill all the ghosts and see whether they would be reborn as material beings or disappear altogether. When he proclaimed his intention there was much rejoicing in the ranks of the Materialists, who thus saw the fulfillment of their faith.

As the day of the spiritual death approached there was a great revival of faith, and much repentance and divers preparation to assume the material role.

Gud was a little puzzled as to how to kill so many ghosts at once. Earthquakes and floods and all that sort of thing were clearly inadequate, but he recalled that the crowing of a cock was very destructive to ghostly life. So he sent Fidu back to the last material realm they had passed, to retrieve a cock which could crow most lustily.

The cock arrived amid a vast darkness, and Gud prepared a great light, at the sight of which the cock crew mightily--and every ghost died of fright.

As the cock was pedigreed, Gud sent Fidu back to restore it to its owner, while he sat himself down to wait for the appearance of the material beings.

None appeared.

After a while Gud grew tired of waiting.

The place was very still and very dark for the wall of light was dark on the inside. In spite of his own ghostly being Gud found that he was getting nervous. He had creepy sensations up and down his spine--

This is a flunk. Ghosts of the ghosts are too much for my imagination. It was Hersey's idea anyway. When you kill a ghost, of course you would have a ghost of a ghost to take its place, and one ought to be able to imagine it. But if you kill that, then you should have the ghost of a ghost of a ghost, and that is straining the imagination to its cracking point. And if you kill that then you should have the ghost of a ghost of a ghost of a ghost--et cetera, ad infinitum, to the Nth expansion--me for Einstein and his warped light.