Excerpts from
Little Lucifer
By Bent Haller
It was really
a disagreeable sight that met Little Lucifer out on Grenen. Pretty mad, in
fact. The most natural thing would of course have been to buzz off straight
away; that was what anyone else would have done, but he had not gone all the
way out to Grenen simply to buzz off again.
He carefully
thought things over. He actually said to himself: Think it over. And then he
decided to be at least twice as curious as he was nervous.
He popped a
sweet in his mouth and withdrew a little. Just a few steps.
Granddad
believed there was a natural explanation to everything.
It was
difficult to see anything, for although the nights at midsummer never went
completely dark, it was after all night.
It was strange
that he should at all be able to see such a clear outline. Perhaps he was
particularly good at seeing in the dark. Well, why not? There were so many
things he was good at.
The figure
coming towards him was giving off light, it was luminous. Some of the fire he
had seen being extinguished in the waves was there still, and this provided the
clear outline of a human figure.
It looked a
little as though it might be a child. About four and a half feet tall, a little
shorter or a little taller than Little Lucifer.
But it could
certainly be no ordinary child.
He actually
said to himself: Don't be daft, Little Lucifer, how can a child fall down from
the sky?
There were
some strange protuberances sticking out of its back. Little Lucifer told
himself they were not wings, and that was probably simply what they looked
like.
It was
completely crazy. Something worthy of a loud laugh, a real guffaw...?
He gave a
start, as though someone had kicked his shin, when the figure suddenly shone
two lights on him. Heavens, no ... they weren't lights, they were eyes, fiery
red shining eyes.
Now he saw
that they WERE wings fixed to the back of this strange creature, this little
coal-black ... angel.
Ding-dong.
Like twelve strokes from a heavy pendulum hammering at his chest, the sound of
his heart and granddad's comment, a trumpet blast in one ear: Remember, there
is a natural explanation to everything, a natural explanation, a natural ...
The echo faded
until it was as gentle as the cool draft in mother's kitchen. Gulp.
Little Lucifer
suddenly found he had swallowed his sweet, but he still had just enough
presence of mind to be angry. For it was a fresh sweet, delightfully concrete,
down to earth, natural.
He fumbled for
the bag in his pocket. What was all this he had got himself into? He was actually
angry that he had been born at all. How was he to cope with this nasty little
demon that had come charging in like a fireball through the air?
- Are you
Little Lucifer?
Now the bright
red light disappeared from the demon child's eyes. They began to glow instead,
like embers in a stove.
- No, I am
most certainly not. I'm called Ludvig.
- You are
Little Lucifer.
- And who are
you, then?
- I am legion,
said the strange creature- but you can call me Baffomet.
- I suppose
you don't really exist at all, said Little Lucifer. - You are something
happening up in my head because I've inherited my mother's illness.
When for some
reason Little Lucifer took a step forward, the other drew back. His red eyes
began to shine again. (p.29-30)
Translated by W. Glyn Jones
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