Bicycles of the Gods

Michael Simms

Description

In Bicycles of the Gods, the main character, Jesse, presents an earthly incarnation of Jesus Christ come to earth in the body of a 12-year-old boy in the company of Xavi, who is the earthly incarnation of Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds, also a 12-year-old boy. The pair stand on a hilltop above the city of Los Angeles contemplating how best to destroy it as a precursor to destroying the entire world to rid it of humanity so it can refresh and rebuild. Xavi is ready to get on with the task The Big Guy, God, has assigned them, but Jesse has a problem. He isn’t sure that everyone deserves to be destroyed.

Sujets

• Post-Apocalyptic
• Apocalyptic
• Science Fiction
• Fiction
• Los Angeles

Informations

• Publié par: Madville Publishing
• Date de parution: 23 août 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781956440058
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 4 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2022 by Michael Simms All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America

FIRST EDITION

Bicycles of the Godsis a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, companies, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Requests for permission to reprint material from this work should be sent to:

Permissions Madville Publishing P.O. Box 358 Lake Dallas, TX 75065

Acknowledgment: Longer versions of the poems included in this novel can be found in Michael Simms’s collections American AshandNightjar.

Author Photograph: Eva-Marie Simms Cover Design: Jacqui Davis and Gentry Lessman Cover Art: Licensed via Adobe Stock, “Visit to Admont Abbey in Styria” by LevT

ISBN: 978-1-956440-04-1 paperback, 978-1-956440-05-8 ebook Library of Congress Control Number: 2022932002

There are many people who helped create this book, far too many to name here, but I would like to mention a few who were especially instrumental. My editor, Kimberly Parish Davis, who saw promise in the first draft and made suggestions that improved the novel tremendously; Mike Vargo, stalwart friend, who read an early draft and offered encouragement; and most of all, my wife Eva- Maria Simms, whose love and support have given me a life worth living.

Author’s Note: Residents of southern California and southwestern Arizona may notice that I’ve made small changes to the geography of the region. Theologians will notice that the book isn’t very accurate about Christianity either.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two

About the Author

Table of Contents

Chapter One o it came to pass that on a Saturday in July, two boys rode their bicycles up a dirt road disb S neybee is the coolest. The apple, the almond, theelief. “Of all the creatures I invented, the ho through the dry hills above the city. “And now they’re wiping out the honeybees,” Jesse w as saying, shaking his head in orange, even the lilies of the field depend on the honeybee to pollinate their flowers. Do you know how bees communicate?” “They dance,” Xavi said, looking at the ocotillo and desert grasses that grew beside the road. It had been quite a while since these hills had seen rain. A small spark could start a conflagration. “And wasn’t it your dad, not you, who invented the honeybee?” “That’s right, they dance,” Jesse said. “And if you threaten their queen, the workers will die to defend her. And best of all, they make honey, the sweetest and most succulent of foods,” Jesse said, his eyes growing vacant. “Why would anyone want to destroy honeybees?” “Careful,” Xavi said. “There’s a car coming.” The driver went by barely noticing them, and why wo uld he? Jesse and Xavi looked like a couple of twelve-year-old boys, dark-skinned and wi ry, one taller than the other, riding their bicycles through the national forest. “Of all the creatures I invented…” Jesse began again, but this time Xavi interrupted him. “Didn’t your dad invent the honeybee, as well as all the other creatures?” Xavi asked again. “Potato, po-tah-to,” Jesse said. He’d been watching Fred Astaire movies lately and was trying to master old American slang. “As I’ve said many times,” Xavi said, beginning to feel his legs tire as they pumped the pedals. “The world needs to be destroyed again. These humans are ruining everything. I know you’re fond of them, but I’m afraid they’ve got serious design flaws. Why would the rulers of the world be descended from apes? Why not dolphins or hummingbirds?” “Don’t blame me,” Jesse said. “The humans were Dad’s idea. He wanted somebody to talk to, and he feels a strong desire to be worshipped. He’s kind of insecure and needs to be praised all the time.” “What’s this place called, anyway?” Xavi asked, changing the subject and looking down at the lacustrine civilization below them. “They call itTheCity of Angels,” Jesse said. “I’m not sure why. From what I’ve heard, only a couple of angels are living there now.” Jesse looked down at the blue and gold spires of the city, sunlight shining down on the backyard swimming pools shimmering like sapphires. “It’s kind of pretty, isn’t it? The world the humans have created?” “Well,” Xavi snorted. “If you like gaudy artificial things, then I suppose you could say that the cities of men have their appeal. Personally, though, I think most architecture nowadays is kind of tacky. The Taj Mahal, on the other hand, now there’s a beautiful building. Some of the cathedrals in France are impressive as well if you don’t mind the tourists.” “Maybe so, but I hate destroying the world,” Jesse said. “It makes such a mess, and then we have to start all over again.” “I thought we were just burning down this one city,” Xavi said, puzzled. “We’re destroying this city now, then next year ano ther city and so on.” Jesse said. “Dad is hoping that humans will get the message eventually.” “I think we should just go ahead and destroy the wh ole world now,” Xavi replied. “This piecemeal approach never works.” “I’m not cut out for theAvenging Angelrole,” Jesse said. Xavi could hear the sadness in his friend’s voice. Jesse was right. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. Xavi, on the other hand, loved destroying worlds, and he was getting better and better at it. “Do we really have a choice?” Xavi said. “Already half of creation is gone. Great clouds of passenger pigeons used to fly over the land, and no w not even one is left. Where are the endless herds of bison? The sea cows? The pocket gophers? T he kit foxes? Every day another species disappears. And the rain forests are burning as we speak. Have you looked at the ocean lately?

Huge islands of plastic. Who’s going to clean up th at mess? Humans don’t care that they’re destroying creation. We have to put a stop to this.” “I really don’t want to be a punishing god like my father,” Jesse said, his shoulders starting to sag. “Don’t think of it as punishment,” Xavi said. “Think of it as housekeeping. What the world needs is a good cleansing.” “We’ve already sent hundreds of floods as a warning to them. Remember when we put Sin City completely under water? And we’ve burned huge sections of this continent. Somehow, humans just don’t get the message,” Jesse said. “Oh, you can’t teach humans anything,” Xavi said. “Believe me, my family and I have tried many times. What the world needs now is a good clea nsing fire, and not just wilderness fires either. We need to burn the cities down and start over. I’d like to start with a small fire up here in the hills and let the wind carry the fire down to the city. Make it look like an accident. Something tells me that these people don’t believe in Divine Retribution.” They paused for a moment beside the road, catching their breath. In front of them was a large pile of dead wood. The sharp dry needles looked inviting. Xavi pulled out a box of matches, struck one against the surface and gazed into the flame. In the flickering image, he could see a world on fire, cities crumbling to ash, whole civilizations reduced to smoke and ruin. Charred bodies, orphaned babies, people fighting over scraps of foo d. This was the future Xavi yearned for. He looked up at Jesse, waiting for the final approval, but he could see that Jesse was having second thoughts. He walked to the edge of the woods and lo oked down at the city, white clouds moving slowly overhead. “I wonder whether there’s aManudown there,” he mused. “Manu?” Xavi asked. “You mean Noah?” “Potato, po-tah-to,” Jesse said. “Should we do this thing or not?” Xavi asked, blowi ng out the match before it burned his fingers. “If you don’t want to do it this way, there’s always nuclear war.” “Let’s hold off for a while, okay, Xavi? There’s something I need to do first.” And Jesse got back on his bicycle and rode toward the city.

Chapter Two tefan liked to wake early while it was still dark in the cave. Dharma lay beside him, her face He S grabbed his backpack, making sure it held his close, her breath mixing with his. Stefan thought about going back to sleep, then changed his mind, rolled up his sleeping bag and put it on the cement shelf at the back of the cave. no tebook, pen, and water jug, and after making sure no one would see him crawling out of the cave under the bridge, scrambled up the steep slope of the concrete channel, and walked out into the co ol of the morning with Dharma close on his heels. He liked it that he could hear the ocean, bu t only in the hours before dawn when there were few trucks in the industrial neighborhood. Stefan and Dharma headed toward the shore half a mile away, staying alert, the air cool on his face. Dharma began her sniffing, making a small circle in the dry grass, squatted and peed. The relief on her face made him laugh. This, he had finally realized through years of living on the street, was the secret of life, to take each moment as it came, enjoying the small pleasures and not worrying about what may come. But today was different. Today the world was ending. At the beach, he took off his boots, a scuffed pair he’d had since bootcamp seven years ago, and his green wool socks, too warm for summer, but the only pair he had. He took off his shirt and his tee, but kept his cut-off jeans, and walked into the shallows where the waves washed over his feet. He bent down and splashed salt water on his f ace, neck and chest, washing his beard and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked around, made sure no one was near, unzipped and peed in the ocean. Dharma was playing chase with the waves nearby. Stefan turned and looked at the line of prosperous-looking shops that lined the boulevard and thought of the continent behind the shops, the rugged mountains, the golden deserts, the wide plains, the towering cities.Oxnard, he said to himself.Ventura.Saticôy. The sound of the names gave him pleasure. Then he felt a moment of grief, shook it off, and realized that it was all for the best. Yes, he could barely believe it. Today the world was ending, or at least the world that he and billions of others knew. Today the fires would begin, and they would not stop until everything was gone. He sat in the sand, dried his feet and face with his socks, laced up his boots and hung the socks over his shoulders. The socks would dry quickly in the summer heat. The sky was already turning red in the east. He loved to watch how the levels o f dawn rose through the sky, a dark spectrum that put the stars out, one by one. Who should he w arn? He decided that those who needed to know had already been told. Like him, they would have to accept the inevitable facts. Hadn’t there already been enough warnings? The scriptures, the s atellite photos, the scientific studies and conferences, the tedious documentaries, the ominous editorials, the long droughts, the terrible floods and the out-of-control fires. Everyone had been warned, but few had listened. He felt a rumble in his stomach, and he started wal king toward the McDoodle’s down the boulevard, Dharma following along, stopping to sniff each post and boulder. Stefan sometimes wished he were as alert to scent as she was. The la ndscape had a different shape for her, he realized. A stone without scent didn’t exist for her; whereas a patch of dirt where a dead fish had lain was huge, a presence that couldn’t be ignored. Stefan walked steadily down the sidewalk with Dharma zigzagging behind him, sniffing each interesting thing. He knew she could no more stop sniffing than he could stop looking. Each being had its own nature and its own fate. Whatever happened today, he hoped Dharma would survive and continue as his companion, but that decision was not his to make. They stopped across the street from the McDoodle’s. Stefan sat down on a bench and Dharma sat beside him. The restaurant had just opened. A line of cars waited in line, each driver speaking into the box, placing an order, then moving forward to the window, paying for the order. A bag of food was handed over, and the car drove away. Stefan always admired the efficiency of the system. Eventually, one of the cars didn’t drive away, but turned into a parking space. About ten minutes later, the driver got out of the car and threw a white bag with the remains of his breakfast into the garbage can, returned to his car and drove away. Stefan said, “Let’s go girl!” and he and Dharma hurried across the street. Stefan reached into