The candles have burnt down to their knobbly nubs. The effigies burned down to smouldering piles. Lamb’s blood drips into a copper vessel. His million dollar credit check is deposited. The oaths are sworn. The red hoods are damp with the rain.
‘One last test brother,’ says the Archon.
He is exhausted. This has gone on for hours. But he’s close now. So close. A vacuum of power pulls at his every desire. Money will become obsolete. Power resides in other places, with other things. And soon, access to an unlimited larder of power will be all his. Just one last test.
‘I am ready,’ he says.
The Archon nods. ‘Bring it forth,’ he instructs the acolytes.
What terrible trial will this be? Signing some unholy ledger? Chopping off a little finger? Or something far worse. Killing someone? Someone he knows? A child? His child? Would he do it? Could he? He knows the answer and it chills him to know it.
Out of the darkness, a huge shape looms. It catches in the torchlight. Yellow. Curved. Three times the length of him.
‘Behold,’ the Archon throws his arms up, ‘the banana.’
It is, indeed, a giant banana. He stands motionless, unsure as to what to do.
‘The final test,’ intones the Archon. ‘Partake of the banana, brother, and join our fold.’
‘Like, a little bite or?’
‘Oh no,’ says the Archon, smiling. ‘You must consume the whole banana.’
‘The whole banana?’ He looks it up and down, resting on the wheeled rack. It must weigh twice his whole body weight.
‘The whole banana,’ says the Archon, as the acolytes start to filter out of the room. He hands him a knife and fork. ‘There’s a Sword of Weeping Souls over there to peel it. Take as long as you need. We’ll be up at the club house. Mimosas and nine holes at eight tomorrow morning if you can make it. Ciao.’
And with that, the Archon ducks his head out of the door, leaving him alone with the banana.
Paddy Dobson
9th August 2021