Short Story: The Devil And Young Master…

Short Story: The Devil And Young Master Jones

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.

Young Billy Jones sat with the rest of his classmates in the middle of the school examination hall. He was both nervous and excited. His palms were sweaty, and his knees were knocking together. Fear of failure was foremost in his mind, but he felt reasonably confident. As he had informed his classmates in the corridor outside before entering the examination room, he had begun his revision months and months ago. Most of Billy’s classmates regarded him as a freak. He was fourteen years old, and only four and a half feet tall. His father had been teased at school too because of his height.

His father was a dwarf, and his mother was a lion tamer. They had met while they were working at a circus. His father had been drawn helplessly to the leotard that his mother wore for her acts, and which enhanced all her generous curves. For her part, his mother had always wanted a man she could literally tuck under her armpit or sweep under the table. Billy’s mother had often hid his father in cupboards, or even drawers when important people came to visit. Luckily, Billy’s dwarf father was also a contortionist. Billy’s mother did this because she was somewhat embarrassed to be married to a dwarf. She was convinced that other people did not respect her, because her partner was not conventionally attractive. Unfortunately, true love does not conquer everything and she felt social embarrassment for her lover.

The issue of Billy’s height was a particularly thorny subject for his mother. Woe betide any distant relative, friend or neighbour who visited and remarked that Billy ‘hadn’t grown much.’ Or, in the Lincolnshire vernacular, ‘ain’t grown none’. At this, or any other statement that could be interpreted as being derogatory toward Billy’s height, Billy’s mother’s eyes would narrow, and her lips would curl. You could almost see the steam pouring out of her ears. Typically, she would make a lunge toward the person who uttered the fateful words. At best, she would merely attempt to throttle the unfortunate visitor. At worst, she would resort to releasing the lions. Billy’s family occasionally had to explain certain unfortunate occurrences and several mysterious disappearances. Billy’s father was somewhat henpecked. His mother cracked the whip at home.

Billy had a rather unusual talent of his own. He possessed the remarkable skill of being able to talk to frogs. He could communicate with them in their own unique language. Unfortunately, he was unable to talk to any other animals or amphibians, and of course frogs- being frogs- don’t tend to have anything particularly interesting to say. Perhaps his classmates would have been impressed with this talent, had they known about it. But, thanks to a flawed and restrictive education system which encourages children to be mindless automatons and doesn’t harness and develop innate creativity and idiosyncratic ability, they didn’t. His classmates thought that Billy was a gormless, vertically-challenged nerd.

Even just now, Bradley Dickens, the school bully, turned round to look at Billy from his desk further up in the hall, on the opposite row. He grinned at Billy and made a throat-slitting gesture. Billy waved back. He was a rascal, that Bradley.

The exam invigilators had finally finished handing out the papers. Throats were dry and pens were poised. Mr Bloodthirsty, the History teacher, was the Chief Invigilator. He stood resolutely below the clock at the front of the hall, his hands clutching the lapels of his tweed jacket, feet planted slightly apart on the polished wooden floorboards. Mr Bloodthirsty was something of a pompous arse. He was stoutly built with thinning grey hair which he dyed jet-black and swept over the crown of his head. He secretly kept a stockpile of dead beetles in a draw in his desk, which he ate when all the schoolchildren had gone home. Only the school secretary knew about this (they were having an illicit affair), and she was sworn to secrecy. Bloodthirsty had a round shining face and thick dark eyebrows that looked like giant caterpillars. They were so high up his forehead that they looked like they were trying to escape from the rest of his features, which they were probably were. Not only was he a pompous arse, he was not blessed aesthetically.

“We are now entering exam conditions”, he announced with gravitas, his voice echoing to all four corners of the hall. “This exam is two hours long. We shall start at 9.01 and finish at 11.01. You may begin.”

Billy eagerly turned his exam paper over. All he had studied over the past year was there in his mind, locked away within his brain. All he had to do was get it down on paper once he analysed the questions, he had two hours to do so-

He stared. Blinked. Stared again. Rubbed his eyes. Stared down again. What he saw did not change, and it did not look like it had changed. He looked round at others in the hall. Some people were already beginning to scribble furiously. Bradley Dickens was leaning back, twirling his pencil around his head. However Bradley never made any effort in exams. Moira Evans, who Billy secretly fancied, glanced across at Billy and gave him a little smile. Throughout his bewildered perusal of those around him, one question was running through his head. Did people see the same thing he was seeing?

He looked back down at the question- the only question- on his examination paper. It read:

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHEAT?

Aside from this one piece of printed text, the sheet was completely blank. What was he supposed to do? The thought crossed Billy’s mind that he had been given this as a joke. But who would play a joke like this on him? He could scarcely imagine a teacher doing this. He was about to put his hand up to tell one of the invigilators about what was in front of him instead of the correct exam paper, when he heard a small squeaky voice say: “Oi, you!”

Billy glanced around the hall, feeling utterly confused. The thought struck him that maybe the invigilators would think he was up to something if he continued to behave so suspiciously. He couldn’t see anything to inform him who the voice belonged to.

“Down here, you halfwit!” the voice squeaked, and he felt something tug on his right trouser leg. He glanced down and saw what appeared to be a small figure, a little creature, standing there by his shoe. Due to his lack of height, Billy’s feet dangled several inches above the floor. The figure barely reached the sole of his shoe, it was so small. It had cloven feet and was wearing a red costume with hood and cape. It had a rather sinister, saturnine face, despite being so small- a cross between Sean Connery and Rasputin. It was carrying a trident and had two small horns protruding from its head.

“Well?” it said in its squeaky voice. “Would you like to cheat?”

“Who are you?” Billy said aloud, abruptly remembering where he was and flinching. He looked round sheepishly. If anyone had heard him, they did not show they had noticed. The invigilators were not looking in his direction as they strode slowly and deliberately down the aisles. People were scribbling on their exam papers, scratching their noses or staring vacantly into space.

“Well, who do I bloody look like, the Pope?” the creature squeaked. “I’m Lucifer. Satan. Beelzebub. I have many names. I’m famous, a proper celebrity. By the way, you can relax. No one can see us or hear us. I’ve created a little bubble, a little vacuum, so we can talk properly and in private. Think of it as an image of you at your desk that has been recorded, on a loop, for the benefit of those around us in your normal reality. Lift me up, will you, and put me on your desk.”

“How come you’re so small?” Billy asked incredulously.

“Well, look who is talking! Mr Short-arse himself. Come on, lift me up now.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Billy did as he was told, lifting this Mini-Satan up by pinching his cape between his thumb and forefinger and hauling him up. The creature grimaced at his method, and staggered as Billy placed him on the wooden surface of the desk. No one peered round or seemed to notice what he was doing, so Billy assumed that the creature had told him the truth.

“Stupid bloody humans”, the Satan-thing muttered. “They’re such ignorant, limited thinkers. You think because I’m so evil and all-powerful that I have to be something big and grandiose. I mean, how big do you think Hell is, child? It has to contain all the tortured and damned human souls for eternity. We’re running out of space as it is.”

“Why are you here?” Billy asked. “What do you want from me?”

Satan balanced on his right leg and began to scrape dirt from between the cracks of his cloven hoofed feet with the trident he carried. The grainy specks that he hooked out landed on Billy’s exam paper with small tapping noises. “Billy Jones, I’m giving you the opportunity to cheat in your exam. You are one very lucky boy”, he said.

“I don’t want to cheat”, Billy said. His stance was admirable. How many of us would have responded in the same fashion, had Satan attempted to lead us astray? Not many, I suspect. “I don’t need to cheat, I did loads of revision.”

Satan’s petite face contorted and screwed itself into a frightening scowl. “Oh dear, Billy. Poor foolish Billy. Pathetic. Cowardly. Misguided. You revised all the wrong stuff. You’re screwed, my friend. If you attempt this exam with what is in your head right now, you’ll scrape an F. I’m offering you the chance to get an A, because I think you deserve better. A young man who works hard should get his just rewards. Don’t you agree?”

“I don’t believe you”, Billy replied.

“Why would I lie?” Satan’s mouth dropped open and he spread his arms imploringly. “Billy, think about it. Think of your mum and dad. Think of their proud, happy and beaming faces when they see an A-grade on their son’s report card.”

“Cheating is wrong”, Billy responded, completely unmoved. How we cannot fail but admire the moral strength of character and maturity of this child in the face of such tempting provocation and insidious manipulation from the Devil himself! He is truly a fine example and a credit to his parents.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it cheating, Billy. More…grasping the mettle. Taking an unexpected opportunity. This is what life is about. Real life is all about cutting corners, despite what they tell you in school.” Satan began to speak more softly, and moved closer to Billy so that he could whisper to him conspiratorially. “You’re a very lucky boy, Billy, to receive a visitation from me. You know, I was chilling out in Hell, hanging out, torturing some unfortunates when I looked up to the world and I glimpsed you. I thought, that boy has potential. The chip on the shoulder…the psychological scarring caused by years of school bullying and oddball parenting…the potential you have as an adult to cause all kinds of fun chaos is limitless. I had to offer you this opportunity. Also, I’m really impressed by that thing you do with the frogs-“

“Yeah”, Billy said. “It’s a useless trick.”

“Oh I know. But I just thought that a stunted freaky dwarf like you needs an entity like me to help him out. You and I could be an unstoppable team. Like Bonnie and Clyde, or Morecambe and Wise. I would be the brains of the operation, obviously. After you’ve sailed through this exam, the opportunities are limitless. Fraud, deception, all kinds of lucrative pursuits. I can give you anything you want, Billy. I can be your golden goose. Your parents will never have to work in a circus again. Think of it, Billy! No more risking the wrath of the lions for your mother, and no more humiliation for your father. And think of all the beautiful women! I will have them flocking to you, kneeling at your feet. Can you imagine?”

“I’m sorry”, Billy said. “Thank you for your offer, but I’m never going to cheat. I am never going to cheat on anything in my life. I’m sorry. Please end this and go now so I can do my exam.” Billy glanced up at the clock at the front of the hall. It now read 9.10am. Real life was going on without him. “I’ve lost enough time already. Could I have my real exam paper back too, please?”

Billy Jones’ integrity and strength of character under these circumstances is, I’m sure you’ll agree dear reader, deeply admirable and astounding. It is almost absurd, beyond belief, far-fetched, impossible, inconceivable, preposterous, unimaginable, and unthinkable and it is stretching credibility to its very limit. Any rational observer (particularly one with a thesaurus) would conclude this. Over the theological history of mankind, only the son of God and a handful of saints had resisted such a barrage of temptation from the Devil himself. Billy Jones was about to join their hallowed ranks.

Satan stamped his tiny cloven hoof and snorted fire. “O Hecate!” he squealed with a screechy tone, raising an arched eyebrow. “Now look Jones, I’ve given you the spiel. I’ve been very nice to you. Now you’ve responded like that…I’m not going to be so nice.” His eyes turned a flaming crimson. “Cheat on the exam, Jones. Cheat or I shall make you regret it in the most unpleasant possible way.”

Billy looked around him, as if vainly searching for a passing Angel who could provide assistance. None, however, was forthcoming. Angels have busy schedules, even at the best of times. Reaching a moment of determined resolution, Billy brought his fist down hard upon the small Satanic figure to crush it, which even prior to that moment had been dancing excitedly and making obscene gestures toward him.

Billy’s fist did not make contact with any tiny being. Instead, he struck his desk, making a loud bang. It seemed as if everyone in the examination hall turned round to look at him. There was a moment of shocked, stunned silence. Then- amid the rising sound of giggles- Billy heard the sound of Mr Bloodthirsty’s voice booming out, evidently shocked and appalled.

“Billy Jones! What on earth is wrong with you? Where are your clothes?”

Billy suddenly realised he was sitting at his desk and that he was naked. Completely stark naked. The hall was ringing with laughter, some of it hysterical. Those that were not laughing were looking at him with shock and disgust.

“Jones, I realise that you must have had a lot on your mind this morning, but did you forget to get dressed today?” Bloodthirsty asked, his voice dripping with cold amusement and sarcasm. That made it even worse.

Two teachers were already approaching Billy. “Get him out and get him dressed”, one whispered to the other one. As he was dragged to his feet and a teacher attempted to cover his modesty with a sheet of paper, Billy could see that Bradley Dickens was almost falling out of his chair, such were his hysterics. Peter Galvin and Jason Smith were pointing at him and laughing. Even worse, some of the girls looked at him with a mixture of shock and disgust. He saw a wide-eyed snotty Monica Cartwright, whispering to Lucy Henshaw. And – horror of horrors- Moira Evans looked appalled. Later on, she would confide to friends that she always had despised the freaky little dwarf anyway.

It was a moment in his life when Billy wished the ground could swallow him up and Hell would take him in its fiery embrace.