The Keepers by 1PUNK1 Read Free Book Online Page B

that gods
do not worship, for they are gods themselves.
    I will worship if thee gives me
fame and money.
    And he worships and is on the
road to self-destruction.
    I have money.
    He is still high on cocaine. He
is in love with the cocaine.
    But, if I am god. Who is it
that they worshiped before?
    The question which paves the
way to his death.
    Who is it? Tell me. Dammit,
tell me. Cocaine!
    He screams
at ’ C ocaine ’ for
the answer. But it comes not easily.
    Who was god Rikki?
    And he does not know if he is
the one who asked the question.
    Then if I am god, who is the
devil?
    Those trying
to oppose you Rikki. The badness replies
and Rikki is satisfied and high on cocaine.
    Those who preach, those who
pray. With me, I am god, and all that the immortals need do is have
f**k, drink, smoke and all such.
    And he speaks in full
words.
    But , t he question still
linger s on , If I
am god, then which god was before me? Was
this god more intelligent, wiser, better in all ways? But I am
Rikki. Rikki! Rikki! Rikki! Yes you hear my worshipers rejoice at
me. Yes you do.
    But the
question is persistent .
    If I am god
now, who was there before me? F**k it, I’m tired of thinking and he let the cocaine high get the rest of his
mind.
    And he lay
there. In his smoky, hazy room, naked women full in the bed and the
house. Bed-spreads stained with alcohol. He lay there on the
bedspread and with the high, with the drunkenness , with the women working on him. It
was total bliss.
    The sun shone
through the bedroom in the morning. Small specks of dust fused with cocaine floated in the
sunlight. He woke up and reached for his sun-glasses.
    What a
life , h e thought , n o wonder they don't like me. Now to do it
all over again.
    “ Wake
up ,” h e shouted
at the prostitutes. “Wake up, get your
shit, and leave.”
    “ What about
our cash ?” The whore next to him asked
seductively , “ w e
can still stay and you can have your way with us again.”
    He stood up from the bed,
reached under the mattress effort-fully what with the weight of the
women and his hangover. He gave up lifting and inserted his hand
searching for the money with the mattress compressing it. During
this exercise he uttered expletive comments about how everyone was
trying to take his money and how he would kill anyone who
tried.
    “ Take it.” He
threw an excessive amount of money at the whores without counting
it. “I have had all of you. Now leave ,” h e said diabolically.
    To say that he become more
sinister, viler, more aggressive and more misogynistic would be an
understatement. A void had been there within him, but now it had
grown too much depth. Cocaine and prostitutes were not enough
anymore.
    Bad bitches is
the only thing that I like , h e
thought.
    The phone rang while he while
he was on the couch, ‘drawing lines’.
    It rang three times and he
lacked the desire to stand, head to the kitchen and pick up the
phone. He went on the fifth ring.
    “ Hello,
Rikki,” The Voice on the other end of the
line said.
    “ What’s up?
It’s eleven o’clock in the morning and it’s a day of
rest.”
    “ Yes. It’s
early and it’s a Sunday,” Abigail replied. “But to cut things
short. The record label has setup an emergency meeting this
afternoon at two. The vp says it is urgent that you come.” She did
not know what t o say of the situation
either. “Honestly Rikki, I don’t like the sound of this ‘ urgency ’ thing .” She
d id not like it simply because it also threatened her
employ- she cared not at all about Rikki.
    “ Yeah. Well,
don’t be like that. These fools need me. They probably want me to
go on tour and make more public appearances. That ’s probably
all there is to it, ” he
said confidently.
    “ Can I
ask?” she asked
    “ Sure.
Shoot ,” h e
replied.
    Her sigh was audible over the
phone. It was a deep sigh. A sigh foretelling an uncertainty of how
the question would be answered.
    “ What is wrong
with you Rikki?” She asked re ally