BY MARK PETERS
Copyright is held by the author.
EACH TIME the Baffled God changed his mind, the world rewrote itself. Whether the myriad changes witnessed by all were meticulous decisions or passing flights of fancy mattered little. If he thought something, then it came into being, and the folk of the land had to accept the result.
“There should be boulders as light as feathers,” he said, “and walruses with butterfly wings.”
And so there were.
Another day, mammoth-sized rhododendrons spiralled and sliced through the plains. And who could forget the month the sky poured multihued rain?
***
Augustus Aquitaine was not one to suffer fools, even those of divine inclination.
“Enough is enough,” he said to Petra, his wife, one morning. His plate of scrambled eggs had disappeared, victimized by a version of the world in which chickens did not exist. Struggling to maintain the fading salt-and-pepper taste on his tongue, Augustus threw down his fork in disgust. The tossed cutlery rattled to a halt. “Someone needs to deal with this god. Perhaps it will have to be me.”
Petra pursed her lips, but Augustus knew she wouldn’t argue. In the decades they’d been together, neither had been anything less than supportive of their partner’s endeavours, wild as they sometimes were. The temple was only a few days’ walk away, but age had limited his physical abilities, and Augustus could sense his spouse’s concern.
“I admire your conviction,” said Petra, “but is this really your battle to fight? There’s other food we can make for breakfast.” She shuffled to the cupboard and rummaged through shelves.
“It’s about more than a ruined breakfast. It’s about people being treated like afterthoughts. We have all had enough constant disruption. Now is the time to settle this mess.”
He marched to the bedroom and began packing in earnest. Petra fell into step behind him. “Why must you leave right away? What if you change your mind?”
Augustus turned to face Petra and rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “The reason I have to leave now, my love, is precisely because I’m afraid I might change my mind.”
Nothing else needed to be said, and so Petra joined in the preparation. She made sure Augustus had all his necessary medications, along with snacks non-perishable enough to survive the journey.
As he was about to step out the front door, Augustus remembered an item which might prove useful. He went to the dresser and found it stowed beneath some clothes. Ensuring the wax paper wrapping stayed intact, he carefully placed it in his satchel. Impressed by his own cleverness, he kissed his wife farewell and left the cottage.
Augustus strolled down the road, munching a block of cheese along the way. Tasty, but no substitute for scrambled eggs. Passing through Half Moon Grove, nostalgia filled his heart. The village had been his home for so long, and he hoped he wasn’t seeing it for the last time. There were scattered houses on the outskirts, but no one in view to notice his leave-taking. Most people wanted a quiet life and stayed indoors lest they get caught in the next round of god-induced change.
He travelled beyond the village, in the direction of the mountains, and felt in his bones that winter would be approaching soon. Sporadic snowflakes dotted the air, confirming his suspicions, and soon crescendoed into a blanket of snow. By the time he reached Farlan Pike, only a few hours’ walk at a brisk pace, the weather had shifted to the sweltering heat of midsummer. Another whim of the Baffled God, Augustus supposed. He fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow.
With each farmstead he passed, Augustus fought the urge to step inside for succour. He was averse to small talk on a good day, and besides, he wanted to keep up the momentum. If he stopped now, he might not find the energy to start again. Despite his clicking and popping joints, he kept along the path.
Outside Farlan Pike, Augustus looked back and saw the farms were no longer there. Instead stood the remains of an abandoned factory. Strange, metallic contraptions were stacked along the perimeter like piles of elephant bones. The smell of smoke wafted through the air, carrying a hint of burnt rubber. Augustus wondered if the villagers were in there somewhere, or if they’d vanished along with everything else. He pressed on.
Daylight gave way to dusk, and Augustus rolled out his sleeping bag in a forest clearing. It wasn’t until he was lying down that he realized how sore his legs were. Regret creeped into his mind; he might never see Petra again. What if this was all a waste? What if the Baffled God wouldn’t listen? No. He could not allow negative thoughts to deter him. Making an effort to focus on the greater world outside himself, he drifted to sleep.
The next day, Augustus was determined to make the final push to his destination. He paid no heed to the strangeness happening all around, the rearranging landscape or the rapidly fluctuating winds. One thing he could not ignore, however, was the sensation of being followed.
Too afraid to look back, he picked up his pace, and the footsteps behind him did the same. He veered in unexpected directions, yet still heard the snarls and the gnashing of teeth. His heart sank when the expanse of trees ahead transformed into an endless wall of rock. Augustus no longer needed to reach the mountains, for the mountains had come to him. He turned, not wanting to face the danger, but there was no longer any choice.
The beast approached without trepidation, true master of the hunt. Twice the size of a tiger and covered in glistening, hooked spikes, the animal carried death in its eyes. As Augustus braced for a painful end, booming laughter from the firmament cut the tension. The beast slunk back, shifted into a mewling kitten, and padded away in the direction whence it came.
Something nudged Augustus on the shoulder. He spun and saw no one there, but discovered a door built into the side of the mountain. This was the temple.
There was a foyer beyond the entrance, with multiple stairways zig-zagging upwards. The practicality of hauling his luggage the entire way did not appeal, so he kept his burlap satchel and left everything else at the bottom.
Augustus had only gone up a dozen or so steps before the world changed again. He found himself in a massive, gleaming hall, larger than any room he’d ever been in, and adorned with countless statues and other works of art. He stared in open-mouthed astonishment.
The sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted his thoughts.
Augustus had expected a god to be large; the sight of a diminutive man with a stooped back and a kindly smile surprised him. The deity offered a handshake that felt gentle as a spring breeze.
“I don’t get many visitors,” said the Baffled God. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He motioned for Augustus to follow him into a small lounge and pointed to a stool in the corner. Eager for rest, Augustus was more than willing to oblige. He forced a polite smile, then opened his mouth, wanting to rattle off his speech before losing confidence. But suddenly the words were gone, barely registering as a notion on the tip of his tongue. Augustus didn’t understand; he’d repeated the lines over and over again, practiced them the entire walk. Could it be?
Realization struck. The Baffled God grinned.
“That’s it,” said Augustus, rising from the seat to tower over his adversary. “How do you have the gall to entertain yourself at the expense of others? You never change anything meaningful. It’s always something ridiculous. You could end wars. You could end hunger. All with nothing more than a thought.” He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a photograph. “Do you see this? It’s a picture of my wife, Petra. I love her dearly.” Augustus stepped closer. “Last harvest season, her cousin, still just a boy, was found murdered outside our village. Can you change that? Or any of the pain humanity endures daily?”
The Baffled God sighed. “Would it matter? Give him life now and it’s gone in another 60 or 70 years. Maybe less.” He paced around the room. “You view the world through the eyes of a mortal. Come talk with me when you’ve put yourself in my place. There’s no excitement when you can have anything you desire. No beauty when nothing can ever come as a surprise.”
Augustus could not have asked for a better segue. He took his burlap satchel and undid the twine with arthritic fingers. A pressed flower, the colour of which hadn’t been exposed to the world in many years, was sandwiched between two pieces of wax paper.
The Baffled God gawped.
“You see,” said Augustus. “There has always been beauty in the world. The natural world. You don’t need to conjure up such drastic nonsense.” He held up the flower. “It’s this simple.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. That colour, it cannot be of this world.”
“And that’s after years of fading. It’s from the times before you showed up. Been in my family over a century. Every so often I take it out and just . . . lose myself in its beauty.”
“Can I hold it?”
Augustus hesitated in defence of the heirloom, but knew events were proceeding in the necessary direction. He gave it to the Baffled God, who turned the flower in his hands.
“I’ll need you to stay here for a while. As my guest.”
Augustus was wary, but what else could he do? At least some rest would be a welcome thing.
The Baffled God ushered him through a maze of corridors and into the room where he’d be lodging. After the deity left, he climbed into the bed, soft as a cloud, and faced the crackling fireplace. Nonetheless, a cold night awaited without Petra by his side.
It became difficult to measure the passage of time. There were no windows, and although unspoken, no permission for Augustus to exit the quarters. The Baffled God visited to share meals and conversation, but however much time elapsed between encounters was a nebulous thing. Eventually, the Baffled God invited Augustus back to the main hall.
“How did you know this would work? The flower, I mean. How could you be so sure?”
Augustus shrugged. “I only took it with me on a whim. But we’ve always known there are others in the Pantheon. We do not know your real name, of course, but you’re most assuredly not among the creators. Not even close. You’re nothing more than an agent of chaos. When you arrived all those years ago, I suspect it was not of your own accord. I would also wager your ability to leave this temple is as limited as mine. And so, it stands to reason, the sight of this little flower, no longer surviving in our lands, was something you’d never experienced.”
The Baffled God laughed, and it was a lively, pleasant sound. “You aren’t as simple as I’d assumed. Neither am I anything less than complex. There is one way I can surprise even you, my new friend. I can be a creator. You came here to find the solution to a problem, one that is greater than the both of us, and for that there is a simple fix.”
Augustus guessed what was coming. He was scared, but understood it was best in the long run.
“I would like to hold the flower for this,” said the Baffled God. “Please.”
Heart pounding, Augustus passed the item over, and clenched the photo of Petra in his other hand. There was no need for yearning, because the world changed for the penultimate time, and the photo blinked out of reality. His spouse stood before him, in the flesh, and they locked in an embrace.
The Baffled God gifted a warm smile to the couple, took a deep breath, and snapped his fingers.
***
In an instant, Augustus Aquitaine never was. Nor did Petra exist. The Baffled God, too, became something less than a figment of somebody else’s dream. There was no longer cruelty, or suffering, or breakfasts of any sort. All that remained was a vast field of flowers, stretching for miles, further than any god or mortal could ever hope to see. It stretched across the valleys once covered with mist, beyond the snow-capped mountains, and all along the windswept plains.
***
Mark Peters is an American author of speculative short fiction. Recent work has appeared in Altered Reality Magazine, Sage Cigarettes Magazine, and the charity horror anthology BROKEN OLIVE BRANCHES. When he’s not reading or writing, Mark enjoys watching movies and spending time with his family in upstate New York.