The Supreme Suspect (Short Story)
05-10-2010, 09:17 AM
At half past noon, a man in his late 30's, early 40's, walked into a precint in New York, not far from the street where they recently had the bomb scare, in which fortunately the bomb didn't go off, but only scared the hell out of a lot of people.
The man was wearing faded jeans and white T-shirt which had picture of marijuana leaves in green. He wore a black painter's hat, and looked like Asian.
The TV in the police building was broadcasting the news, updating everyone on the latest development of the bomb incident. The man stood and watched the news for awhile, and it wasn't too long after that a police man approached him and asked why he was here.
And the man said,
"I'm turning myself in for being the one responsible for the bombing in Manhattan. Along with many other bombings and terrorist activities in Serbia, Israel, United States of America, and a lot more other places in the world, there are so many I can't even recall all of them."
--------------------
The lieutenant thought this man was mad. But the annoying this was, he wasn't mad. At least he didn't look like he was mad. He looked normal. Just like anyone else. Didn't look like a junky. Didn't look like mental patient. He looked like ... a tourist, may be, because of his Asian looks, and the fact that he was wearing a bit different clothes than the NewYorkers.
But on a normal day, he would have looked like he came to the police for direction. Or some kind of assistance.
But no, he was here, claiming to be responsible for the Manhattan bombing. Never mind all the other stuff he claims as well, coz that wasn't the lieutenant's problem.
His first problem was that the suspect of one of the biggest police investigation in New York history just walked into his office with his own feet, but that wasn't even the biggest problem, the biggest problem was that the lieutenant actually believed him.
-------------------------------------
Lieutenant walked in the interrogation room with a coffee mug in his hand. But it wasn't coffee in the mug, it was whisky. He knew he needed something extra to calm his nerves.
The man being questioned was sitting across the table, also holding a coffee mug, but this one actually holding coffee. He was looking mighty comfortable in the metal chair, sipping on his coffee. His hands were cuffed, but that didn't seem to make him any less comfortable, in fact the most uncomfortable looking man in the room was the lieutenant.
He began by asking some simple questions.
"What was it that you said? About being responsible for the bombing and stuff?"
The man smiled and put down the coffe mug. And he repeated what he had said before.
"I'm turning myself in for being the one responsible for the bombing in Manhattan. Along with many other bombings and terrorist activities in Serbia, Israel, United States of America, and a lot more other places in the world, there are so many I can't even recall all of them."
The lieutenant listened patiently, and when the man had finished, he asked,
"And who are you?"
And the man in black painter cap replied,
"I am God."
-------------------------------------------------------
The man continued,
"I am God, and I am responsible for all the nasty things that you guys do to each other. And I'm turning myself in. Don't punish your fellow humans for the crime that I committed."
The lieutenant and other police men in the room were silent. Listening.
"I hear you have a suspect under your custody. And you are ready to crucify him. You are ready to put all the hate and all the blame in him, and condemn him to hell. But don't.
He didn't do anything, he was only doing it for me. I never asked him to do it, but I'm responsible all the same."
"You are so ready to pour your hate and vent your anger on your fellow humans, but you never raise your voice at me. When you deal with your own kind, you show your anger and frustration, but when you deal with me, you only put up your Sunday faces."
"You turn everything that is nice and good towards me, and you take credit for all the evil and vices for yourselves. When you see something beautiful, you say it's heavenly. You say it's God-sent. But I'm not beautiful, I'm not. It is you humans that is truely beautiful. Not me."
Nobody in the room said anything.
"I have caused you to suffer. Therefore I'm turning myself in. I should never have started my stupid experiment on you."
At the last remark, the lieutenant couldn't help but feel curious, as to what experiment God was talking about.
"What experiment are you talking about?"
The man calling himself God replied,
"I experimented with religion."
----------------------------------------------------------------
The lieutenant thought about what the man had said, about his experiment with religion, and his three sons.
"I had three sons, you see, the eldest one was called Budda, the next one was called Jesus, and the youngest and the most spoiled one was called Mohamed.
At first I wanted to spread the concept of religion through folk stories and ferry tales, and that's what I did with the Hindus. But soon the humans were making up their own God stories which were much more entertaining than mine, and soon I was losing my audience. So I thought I needed to get down and personal with my audience, by sending a message in real flesh and blood.
No more mysterious creature or a burning bush. A real man, walking and talking just like you. Eating same things that you eat, and shitting just like you, and with a personality that is simple adorable."
------
To be continued... I'm out of 'high' right now...
------
The lieutenant thought about what the man had said, about his experiment with religion, and his three sons.
"I had three sons, you see, the eldest one was called Budda, the next one was called Jesus, and the youngest and the most spoiled one was called Mohamed.
At first I wanted to spread the concept of religion through folk stories and ferry tales, and that's what I did with the Hindus. But soon the humans were making up their own Gods which were better designed than mine, and soon I was losing my market. So I thought I needed to get down and personal with my clients, by sending a God in real flesh and blood.
No more mysterious creature or a burning bush. A real man, walking and talking just like you. Eating same things that you eat, and shitting just like you, and with a personality that is simple adorable."
The image of this man in painter's cap talking about sending his sons to earth as starters of religions struck as crazy or insane at first, but as the message sank in, the lieutenant started to think he might have a point.
"Budda said he could be a hit amongst the people, so he opened his office in India, but he didn't. He made a big hit in Eastern Asia rather. Especially the Chinese and the Thais."
"I was quite pleased with his work, actually. And I was hoping his religion would catch along with other people around the globe, but no... The Europeans needed something new. So I sent Jesus."
"Jesus took a bit different approach than Budda. While Budda never claimed his ties with me, Jesus thought he needed me on his background to have any impact on the Eurpeans, so he made it clear that he was my son."
After listening the first time, the lieutenant remembered being puzzled as to why God sent Jesus to Israel, if he was targeting the Europeans. And he remembered the man in painter's cap provide the answer in the next paragraph.
"Jesus went to Israel because he thought he would start small at first. He wanted to start from the bottom and work his way up. Which he eventually succeeded, as you can see. Almost all of Europe is now under Christianity."
-------------
"But the guy who really made it big was Mohamed. The third and the most spoiled one. A rascal he is..."
The man chuckled.
"He was different from birth. He never really got along with Jesus, but he was OK with Budda. But they all loved each other, as all brothers should."
----------
The lieutenant was usually a cheerful guy, he was always making conversation with his wife and kids once he returned home, but that day, he was silent. His wife had to ask what was wrong, but the lieutenant couldn't quite articulate on what was wrong.
He just said,
"I met God today and I might have to put him behind bars."
----------
The lieutenant couldn't sleep the whole night. He lied awake, thinking about how to charge God with terrorism.
----------
In the morning, the lieutenant had regained his usual cheerful self. Apparantly he had a plan.
Once he arrived at the station, he started making phone calls like frenzy, and by the end of the day, he was exhausted, but feeling pleased, as all the calls have yielded results, and by tomorrow, he could have God on a police line up, and he had just the right person to come and point to the right man... or God.
---------
The next morning, the policeman in uniform escorted the man in painter's cap to a police line up, where 6 other people were waiting. They had placed the man third from the left, next to a man with long beard, and a woman in gypsy clothes. The others on the line up seemed like they were randomly picked from an international airport. Some Asian, some African, some Caucatian...
As soon as everyone assumed their position, the man in long robe and pointed hat entered the room next to the lineup and stood behind the two way mirror.
The lieutenant said to the man in the robe,
"Your Holiness, can you pick out God from this line up?"
And the Pope said,
"I don't know if I can, but I'll certainly give it a try..."
----------------------------
The line up at the police station went rather well. The Pope was able to point to the Asian looking man in black painter's cap. It took him about 15 minutes of staring at the guy, but in the end, he pointed his wrinkled finger at God.
The lieutenant was pleased with the result. He now had one of the world's most influential man as his witness. Add a few more, and he had a solid case. He would be able to stick the charge on God and prosecute him in court. He felt even the best lawyers from Hollywood had no chance of bailing God out.
He immediately moved on to his second guest, who was already waiting at the waiting room. The lieutenant swiftly walked to the waiting room, and greeted another one of world's most influential man.
"Welcome to New York, you Holiness Dalai Lama."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Grass, New York is wonderful. Much more modern than Tibet."
"Thank you, your Holiness. I hear China is also much developed these days?"
"Yes, I believe so, but why are you talking about China?"
"Oh, isn't Tibet in China?"
"....... Never mind. So, why did you bring me here? The ambassador said it was of great importance."
The Lama was looking a bit pissed. Lt. Grass realized what an ass he has been with his ignorance, and thought he should somehow try to make up.
"Oh, the thing is, your Holiness... We have a man walks into our station and claims to be responisible for the recent bombing in New York."
"Ah yes, the recent bombing... Thank God it didn't go off."
"Yes, thank God for that."
"So... the suspect walked right into your custody... isn't that a good thing? Why do you need me here?"
"Oh, you see... the man claims to be... he says he's..."
"God?"
Lama asked, looking excited.
"Yes... he says he is God... So if he really is God, I thought you would be able to pick him out on a police line up..."
Lt. Grass sheepishly explained. Lama smiled and nooded his head, looking mighty pleased.
"I see, I see... excellent. I should like to meet him very much."
"Anything you wish, your Holiness. But first the line up."
-----------------------------
Dalai Lama could easily pick out the correct man at the line up. I helped him. I guided him to point at me, but I think he already knew who to point without me having to guide him.
As he requested, we were sitting face to face over the table in the interrogating room.
"So, your Holiness... why did you want to see me?"
"God... you really are God!"
"Yes I am, and I hope you're more successful in convincing Lt. Grass that than I've been. He just won't take my word for it."
Dalai Lama laughed a bit.
"You have great sense of humour, God. Or is that how I should call you? God?"
"You can call me anything you like. So what is it that you wanted to ask me?"
"You already know, you are God."
"Yes... I already know what you want to ask... and the answer is NO. I did not create humans."
-------------------------------------------------------------
I've created all the other things. The stars. The earth. The plants and the animals. Practically the whole universe is my creation. But strangely I did not create you.
I tried to create something like you once... But it didn't work. They all... abandoned me. They all went on their own ways. It wasn't their fault, it was their design. I designed them to leave me because I designed them to be perfect. I created the perfect creature and I called them...
Archangels.
Micheal...
Raphael...
and Gabriel...
But they were too perfect. They were... too much like me. So I removed them from the Universe, and put them in the other side of the Universe.
And I waited.
And I waited.
I waited for life to begin, and once it began, I watched it grow... until it became you.
And you are so beautiful...
The music that you create.
The pictures you draw.
The songs you sing and the stories you tell!
You are heavenly. You are God-sent.
The actual God is a mess. He's a douchebag who sits back and does absolutely nothing because he's lazy and always stoned. He's brain is fried and his blood is cold.
He watches his people kill each other in his name, but he just says it's not his fault because he never asked them to wage wars or blow up buildings for him in the first place.
He is a coward. He's a load of crap. And he should be put away for good because he has no place in this world. He should go back to wherever the hell he came from and never return.
And so here I am. Begging you.
I am God. Do yourselves a favor and just kill me now.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dalai Lama regained his consciousness only after they put oxygen mask over his mouth 10 minutes ago.
He opened his eyes and looked around, dazed, and removed the mask with his hand.
"What happened?"
Lt. Grass who was standing next to the bed answered.
"You lost consciousness while talking to the suspect. You were looking extremely stressed, and at the end of the conversation, you just fainted. Like you fell into sleep or something. Thank God you are awake now, we thought you were dead!"
"Ah... yes... I was talking to God..."
Suddenly Dalai had remembered the last thing he heard before the lights went out. He heard God say
"KILL ME NOW!"
And that's when he lost his consciousness. May be God was too angry and lost control over His emotion when He said that. His words struck poor Dalai so strongly, that Dalai couldn't keep up with the tension.
Lt. Grass hesitantly asked,
"So, your Holiness, is the man really God?"
Lt. Grass seemed absolutely oblivious of the graveness of his question. For him, it was all about picking the right guy out of the police line.
"Yes, Lieutenant... He is God."
"Great! Now I have two of the world most influential men on my side! I just need one more!"
Dalai thought that Lt. Grass was a bit unusual. A bit childish may be. Dalai thought he seemed totally undisturbed by the fact that he was going to be the one who puts God behind bars.
If you thought Judas was hated, how much will they hate him?
Dalai thought,
"Thank God I'm not Christian."
He flew back to Tibet that evening, and he was never to be seen again.
(to be continued...)
The man was wearing faded jeans and white T-shirt which had picture of marijuana leaves in green. He wore a black painter's hat, and looked like Asian.
The TV in the police building was broadcasting the news, updating everyone on the latest development of the bomb incident. The man stood and watched the news for awhile, and it wasn't too long after that a police man approached him and asked why he was here.
And the man said,
"I'm turning myself in for being the one responsible for the bombing in Manhattan. Along with many other bombings and terrorist activities in Serbia, Israel, United States of America, and a lot more other places in the world, there are so many I can't even recall all of them."
--------------------
The lieutenant thought this man was mad. But the annoying this was, he wasn't mad. At least he didn't look like he was mad. He looked normal. Just like anyone else. Didn't look like a junky. Didn't look like mental patient. He looked like ... a tourist, may be, because of his Asian looks, and the fact that he was wearing a bit different clothes than the NewYorkers.
But on a normal day, he would have looked like he came to the police for direction. Or some kind of assistance.
But no, he was here, claiming to be responsible for the Manhattan bombing. Never mind all the other stuff he claims as well, coz that wasn't the lieutenant's problem.
His first problem was that the suspect of one of the biggest police investigation in New York history just walked into his office with his own feet, but that wasn't even the biggest problem, the biggest problem was that the lieutenant actually believed him.
-------------------------------------
Lieutenant walked in the interrogation room with a coffee mug in his hand. But it wasn't coffee in the mug, it was whisky. He knew he needed something extra to calm his nerves.
The man being questioned was sitting across the table, also holding a coffee mug, but this one actually holding coffee. He was looking mighty comfortable in the metal chair, sipping on his coffee. His hands were cuffed, but that didn't seem to make him any less comfortable, in fact the most uncomfortable looking man in the room was the lieutenant.
He began by asking some simple questions.
"What was it that you said? About being responsible for the bombing and stuff?"
The man smiled and put down the coffe mug. And he repeated what he had said before.
"I'm turning myself in for being the one responsible for the bombing in Manhattan. Along with many other bombings and terrorist activities in Serbia, Israel, United States of America, and a lot more other places in the world, there are so many I can't even recall all of them."
The lieutenant listened patiently, and when the man had finished, he asked,
"And who are you?"
And the man in black painter cap replied,
"I am God."
-------------------------------------------------------
The man continued,
"I am God, and I am responsible for all the nasty things that you guys do to each other. And I'm turning myself in. Don't punish your fellow humans for the crime that I committed."
The lieutenant and other police men in the room were silent. Listening.
"I hear you have a suspect under your custody. And you are ready to crucify him. You are ready to put all the hate and all the blame in him, and condemn him to hell. But don't.
He didn't do anything, he was only doing it for me. I never asked him to do it, but I'm responsible all the same."
"You are so ready to pour your hate and vent your anger on your fellow humans, but you never raise your voice at me. When you deal with your own kind, you show your anger and frustration, but when you deal with me, you only put up your Sunday faces."
"You turn everything that is nice and good towards me, and you take credit for all the evil and vices for yourselves. When you see something beautiful, you say it's heavenly. You say it's God-sent. But I'm not beautiful, I'm not. It is you humans that is truely beautiful. Not me."
Nobody in the room said anything.
"I have caused you to suffer. Therefore I'm turning myself in. I should never have started my stupid experiment on you."
At the last remark, the lieutenant couldn't help but feel curious, as to what experiment God was talking about.
"What experiment are you talking about?"
The man calling himself God replied,
"I experimented with religion."
----------------------------------------------------------------
The lieutenant thought about what the man had said, about his experiment with religion, and his three sons.
"I had three sons, you see, the eldest one was called Budda, the next one was called Jesus, and the youngest and the most spoiled one was called Mohamed.
At first I wanted to spread the concept of religion through folk stories and ferry tales, and that's what I did with the Hindus. But soon the humans were making up their own God stories which were much more entertaining than mine, and soon I was losing my audience. So I thought I needed to get down and personal with my audience, by sending a message in real flesh and blood.
No more mysterious creature or a burning bush. A real man, walking and talking just like you. Eating same things that you eat, and shitting just like you, and with a personality that is simple adorable."
------
To be continued... I'm out of 'high' right now...
------
The lieutenant thought about what the man had said, about his experiment with religion, and his three sons.
"I had three sons, you see, the eldest one was called Budda, the next one was called Jesus, and the youngest and the most spoiled one was called Mohamed.
At first I wanted to spread the concept of religion through folk stories and ferry tales, and that's what I did with the Hindus. But soon the humans were making up their own Gods which were better designed than mine, and soon I was losing my market. So I thought I needed to get down and personal with my clients, by sending a God in real flesh and blood.
No more mysterious creature or a burning bush. A real man, walking and talking just like you. Eating same things that you eat, and shitting just like you, and with a personality that is simple adorable."
The image of this man in painter's cap talking about sending his sons to earth as starters of religions struck as crazy or insane at first, but as the message sank in, the lieutenant started to think he might have a point.
"Budda said he could be a hit amongst the people, so he opened his office in India, but he didn't. He made a big hit in Eastern Asia rather. Especially the Chinese and the Thais."
"I was quite pleased with his work, actually. And I was hoping his religion would catch along with other people around the globe, but no... The Europeans needed something new. So I sent Jesus."
"Jesus took a bit different approach than Budda. While Budda never claimed his ties with me, Jesus thought he needed me on his background to have any impact on the Eurpeans, so he made it clear that he was my son."
After listening the first time, the lieutenant remembered being puzzled as to why God sent Jesus to Israel, if he was targeting the Europeans. And he remembered the man in painter's cap provide the answer in the next paragraph.
"Jesus went to Israel because he thought he would start small at first. He wanted to start from the bottom and work his way up. Which he eventually succeeded, as you can see. Almost all of Europe is now under Christianity."
-------------
"But the guy who really made it big was Mohamed. The third and the most spoiled one. A rascal he is..."
The man chuckled.
"He was different from birth. He never really got along with Jesus, but he was OK with Budda. But they all loved each other, as all brothers should."
----------
The lieutenant was usually a cheerful guy, he was always making conversation with his wife and kids once he returned home, but that day, he was silent. His wife had to ask what was wrong, but the lieutenant couldn't quite articulate on what was wrong.
He just said,
"I met God today and I might have to put him behind bars."
----------
The lieutenant couldn't sleep the whole night. He lied awake, thinking about how to charge God with terrorism.
----------
In the morning, the lieutenant had regained his usual cheerful self. Apparantly he had a plan.
Once he arrived at the station, he started making phone calls like frenzy, and by the end of the day, he was exhausted, but feeling pleased, as all the calls have yielded results, and by tomorrow, he could have God on a police line up, and he had just the right person to come and point to the right man... or God.
---------
The next morning, the policeman in uniform escorted the man in painter's cap to a police line up, where 6 other people were waiting. They had placed the man third from the left, next to a man with long beard, and a woman in gypsy clothes. The others on the line up seemed like they were randomly picked from an international airport. Some Asian, some African, some Caucatian...
As soon as everyone assumed their position, the man in long robe and pointed hat entered the room next to the lineup and stood behind the two way mirror.
The lieutenant said to the man in the robe,
"Your Holiness, can you pick out God from this line up?"
And the Pope said,
"I don't know if I can, but I'll certainly give it a try..."
----------------------------
The line up at the police station went rather well. The Pope was able to point to the Asian looking man in black painter's cap. It took him about 15 minutes of staring at the guy, but in the end, he pointed his wrinkled finger at God.
The lieutenant was pleased with the result. He now had one of the world's most influential man as his witness. Add a few more, and he had a solid case. He would be able to stick the charge on God and prosecute him in court. He felt even the best lawyers from Hollywood had no chance of bailing God out.
He immediately moved on to his second guest, who was already waiting at the waiting room. The lieutenant swiftly walked to the waiting room, and greeted another one of world's most influential man.
"Welcome to New York, you Holiness Dalai Lama."
"Thank you, Lieutenant Grass, New York is wonderful. Much more modern than Tibet."
"Thank you, your Holiness. I hear China is also much developed these days?"
"Yes, I believe so, but why are you talking about China?"
"Oh, isn't Tibet in China?"
"....... Never mind. So, why did you bring me here? The ambassador said it was of great importance."
The Lama was looking a bit pissed. Lt. Grass realized what an ass he has been with his ignorance, and thought he should somehow try to make up.
"Oh, the thing is, your Holiness... We have a man walks into our station and claims to be responisible for the recent bombing in New York."
"Ah yes, the recent bombing... Thank God it didn't go off."
"Yes, thank God for that."
"So... the suspect walked right into your custody... isn't that a good thing? Why do you need me here?"
"Oh, you see... the man claims to be... he says he's..."
"God?"
Lama asked, looking excited.
"Yes... he says he is God... So if he really is God, I thought you would be able to pick him out on a police line up..."
Lt. Grass sheepishly explained. Lama smiled and nooded his head, looking mighty pleased.
"I see, I see... excellent. I should like to meet him very much."
"Anything you wish, your Holiness. But first the line up."
-----------------------------
Dalai Lama could easily pick out the correct man at the line up. I helped him. I guided him to point at me, but I think he already knew who to point without me having to guide him.
As he requested, we were sitting face to face over the table in the interrogating room.
"So, your Holiness... why did you want to see me?"
"God... you really are God!"
"Yes I am, and I hope you're more successful in convincing Lt. Grass that than I've been. He just won't take my word for it."
Dalai Lama laughed a bit.
"You have great sense of humour, God. Or is that how I should call you? God?"
"You can call me anything you like. So what is it that you wanted to ask me?"
"You already know, you are God."
"Yes... I already know what you want to ask... and the answer is NO. I did not create humans."
-------------------------------------------------------------
I've created all the other things. The stars. The earth. The plants and the animals. Practically the whole universe is my creation. But strangely I did not create you.
I tried to create something like you once... But it didn't work. They all... abandoned me. They all went on their own ways. It wasn't their fault, it was their design. I designed them to leave me because I designed them to be perfect. I created the perfect creature and I called them...
Archangels.
Micheal...
Raphael...
and Gabriel...
But they were too perfect. They were... too much like me. So I removed them from the Universe, and put them in the other side of the Universe.
And I waited.
And I waited.
I waited for life to begin, and once it began, I watched it grow... until it became you.
And you are so beautiful...
The music that you create.
The pictures you draw.
The songs you sing and the stories you tell!
You are heavenly. You are God-sent.
The actual God is a mess. He's a douchebag who sits back and does absolutely nothing because he's lazy and always stoned. He's brain is fried and his blood is cold.
He watches his people kill each other in his name, but he just says it's not his fault because he never asked them to wage wars or blow up buildings for him in the first place.
He is a coward. He's a load of crap. And he should be put away for good because he has no place in this world. He should go back to wherever the hell he came from and never return.
And so here I am. Begging you.
I am God. Do yourselves a favor and just kill me now.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dalai Lama regained his consciousness only after they put oxygen mask over his mouth 10 minutes ago.
He opened his eyes and looked around, dazed, and removed the mask with his hand.
"What happened?"
Lt. Grass who was standing next to the bed answered.
"You lost consciousness while talking to the suspect. You were looking extremely stressed, and at the end of the conversation, you just fainted. Like you fell into sleep or something. Thank God you are awake now, we thought you were dead!"
"Ah... yes... I was talking to God..."
Suddenly Dalai had remembered the last thing he heard before the lights went out. He heard God say
"KILL ME NOW!"
And that's when he lost his consciousness. May be God was too angry and lost control over His emotion when He said that. His words struck poor Dalai so strongly, that Dalai couldn't keep up with the tension.
Lt. Grass hesitantly asked,
"So, your Holiness, is the man really God?"
Lt. Grass seemed absolutely oblivious of the graveness of his question. For him, it was all about picking the right guy out of the police line.
"Yes, Lieutenant... He is God."
"Great! Now I have two of the world most influential men on my side! I just need one more!"
Dalai thought that Lt. Grass was a bit unusual. A bit childish may be. Dalai thought he seemed totally undisturbed by the fact that he was going to be the one who puts God behind bars.
If you thought Judas was hated, how much will they hate him?
Dalai thought,
"Thank God I'm not Christian."
He flew back to Tibet that evening, and he was never to be seen again.
(to be continued...)
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