This is part one of ‘Oh, Holy Spaghetti Monster, help me!’, translated from Dutch. A supernatural supernatural short story involving the patron deity of contemporary atheists.Part one can be found here
Oh, Holy Spaghetti Monster, help me! (II)
“Everything should be normal.” The IT-technician was mostly mumbling to himself as he gave the computer back to Tom. He had only rebooted the computer and everything was working as if there hadn’t been any problems at all. It wasn’t right, but without a second thought Tom resumed his work with a small sigh of relief. He opened his program and was ready to load the flies he was working on. The technician couldn’t see any problems at all and disappeared, having lost too much time already.
But alas, the exact second that the IT-technician had left a little window appeared again on his screen, only to replicate fast, freeze and turn black without coming back even at rebooting. Tom vaguely had the feeling something was laughing with him, but he did not dare to call the IT department twice the same day. There was still something he could do offline, with papers and other old-school stuff, so for now he occupied him with things that did not involve computers. Which didn’t mean that his computer-work wasn’t actually super-urgent though…
*
That night Tom drove home very late. He had had to work extra hours due to the computer problems, and it was much to late to cook, even if cooking just meant, as it did often for Tom, to put some prepackaged microwave dinner in, push a button and wait some minutes. He was way too stressed for even that now. The problems on his office with his computer that weren’t solved at all yet, and the mysterious voice in his head that could not actually exist at all came back to his mind every second he wasn’t doing something.
What was he to do now? He could not live like this… He wanted to go back to his simple life of stress and busyness and simply being lived without having invisible entities sabotaging his computer because he didn’t feel like being the ‘believer’ of a parody-deity. He resolved to go to bed early and first take some extra calming pills so he’d really sleep well… But first he had to eat. ‘Luigi’s Spaghetti corner’ seemed not a bad choice.
But even at Luigi’s he still didn’t enjoy the privilege of being left alone. Even though the voice seemed to remain silent for now, it was almost as if something was looking at him from the corners of his eyes. He was going crazy. In the restaurant it had seemed that two meatballs had stared at him like big round eyes. Why hadn’t he thought of avoiding spaghetti with all of his might? He could hit himself! And that had only been the beginning. Afterwards it had seem like the same eyes had been staring at him again, from a chaotic heap of cables lying on the parking where people had been working on the electricity that day. At second glance there hadn’t been any eyes at all though. How could there have been? Tom cursed again inside. Maybe it was time to go to a shrink, it could not go on like this…
*
Finally home Tom wasn’t sleeping yet, just sitting behind his laptop, surfing on the atheist forum. He had clicked the link in his favorites without even thinking about it, and was now reading a text by someone who clearly enjoyed fulminating against the idiocy of religion. God did not exist, anyone who disagreed with that was too dumb to even have a discussion with. Tom felt comforted and reassured, until the writer suddenly jumped without a warning to the Flying Spaghetti monster, a tactic favoured by a lot of internet atheists. The guy just rattled on and spewed his cliches one by one, finishing with Russell’s teapot that was flying through the vastness of space, or at least it was impossible to prove that it wasn’t…
Tom suddenly thought that it might be a better idea to try to do the missed work on his home-computer. But the moment he tried he knew it was a bad idea. it seemed he still wasn’t allowed to. An error window appeared and the screen turned black. “I had told you so!” said the silence in his head. It all began again.
This was too much for Tom. He ran outside. The few stars that could compete with the light-pollution of the city shone down on him, while he wandered around anxiously and without any destination. He was running away from something of which he knew that it would stay close to him, inside of him even. What could he do? Negotiate?
“What the hell do you want from me?” He screamed with all his might to the silence in his head. “Me? Nothing? Or at least less than what you’ve already offered me.” Was what it seemed to answer him. “But you keep calling me all the time. Why do you invoke my name? Why would you summon me when you have problems if you don’t want my help? And what would you give me in return? I’m not that interested in your soul actually, but the sun doesn’t set for nothing if you understand me…” Tom Stared at the moon shining brightly outside his window, and couldn’t even believe the bad reasoning of the other side. For sure the sun did set for free every morning. And he had not really asked for something. At least not for real. He had just uttered his frustrations without really meaning what he said, not even thinking about it.
A cloud took the moon from his sight, and he answered the woice. “It just was an unconscious reaction. My superstitious side. You do not exist. You were invented as a joke. You cannot exist… It’s not right…”
“Don’t ever call on a name if you don’t want them to come.” The answer echoed in the silence of his head. “You DID ask me for help, you put your hope in me when you shouldn’t have any left, according to your own system of belief, and then you reject me when I help you, even though you had offered me a very high price. Do you even realise that we gods do not really appreciate ingratitude?”
“But…”
Tom stared at the stars that shone in between the nightly clouds that had taken the moon away, and then to the giant ornamental grasses in the garden, out of which two enormous eyes seemed to glare at him. His brain was running like hell in endless circles, but he couldn’t find anything to answer. Nothing made sense. And then it continued.
“Yes, I’m a god. You people called me to life with your amusing stories. It’s not that funny to me though. And no, I’m not almighty, nor all-knowing, and I didn’t create the world at all, even though some of you might say that about me. But even if that information is incorrect, I am here nonetheless. The more people call my name, the stronger I’ll get and the more I can do for you.
So yes, I’ll help you if you want, but do not deny me. All I ask in return for now is to be my believer. I want you to have faith in me, to trust me. That’s all I need…”
There was a silence.
“A lot of things are being told about the gods, but that doesn’t mean that they are right, even if we do indeed exist. Your Pastafarian stories about strippers and pirates might be entertaining to simpletons, but they have not much to do with me as a real being, or with calling on a deity in general. Some details of your stories are equally inaccurate as the idea that we don’t exist and they even make less sense than traditional myth.”
Tom did not know what to answer. It was unreal. This couldn’t be…
“Yes I know they have been it made up just to sound far-stretched. Do you even know how that feels to me? How it feels to not only realise that you exist and that you’re a god, but that your believers are atheists who created you to mock religion. That your mythology is nonsense that no-one believes… But you can indeed call on us and we’ll grow if we get a stronger base of believers, even though we’re just being that have to follow the laws of this universe like you do, rules that define our place and our limitations… And I need believers now, believers to get stronger, and to be able to do more godly things…”
It seemed like the speech was over, but in the end it was just a short pause.
“And one more tip: don’t ever offer your soul to anyone or anything, not even as a joke. They just might appear and take the offer… I’m not that extreme, but I’m here as your god and you’re my believer now. You called me, you put faith in me in a moment of despair. I’m not old-fashioned, so I’m not going to demand rituals or sacrifices or so, your faith is enough for me now…”
The silence of the night was almost deafening now, especially outside of his head. Tiny bats flew around a light hunting from moths and other unlucky insects and the moon had re-emerged in a sky that was almost clear now while a soft wind was starting to blow. Tom was wrestling heavily with his worldview and some other things. It just was nonsense, all of it. But he knew that he couldn’t exist without computer and without car. He didn’t feel much like being locked away in a psychiatric clinic either.
There was no other way. He surrendered himself, having no hope left at all… “I believe” he uttered to the night.