Oh hell, Madawg

A short story by T.R. Deeks

One night, Madawg was coming home from the Bats-a-Drink bar when he met the Devil at a crossroads. In the dark there was nothing visible but his eyes. They stared out the shadows apparently hanging in midair. ‘Why there?’ the Devil said to him, courteously, pleasant sounding, ‘where are you bound?’

Madawg replied, half scared, 'You gave me a fright, is it you the Devil?’ He caught sight of his cloven hoof. ‘None other’, replied the Devil.

He came towards him with a smile of greeting showing his teeth. There was the whiff of sulphur. The Devil’s eyes shone fiery red. He had plentiful white teeth filed to a point. Madawg inquired, ‘Tell me, were you injured in the fall?’

A pained look crossed the Devil’s face. ‘Oh hell, Madawg’, he admitted, reluctantly. ‘Devil only knows, my pride, I guess’.

Madawg nodded, sympathetically. ‘Oh God’, he said, ‘to think!’ He added, ‘I knew someone who fell off a ladder.’

‘Tell me, friend’, asked the Devil, extending a deck of cards. ‘Are you a card player?’

‘I’ve nothing to wager’, Madawg answered. ‘Stake your immortal soul’, replied the Devil.

Suddenly a blessed voice of a guardian angel standing on Madawg’s shoulder spoke caution in his ear. ‘Brother, stand firm’, the wise little angel urged; ‘keep faith, don’t be deceived.’

At the same time a little devil appeared on his other shoulder, produced handfuls of gold and silver coins and whispered to him, ‘Riches shall be yours.’ The little devil held the coins out to him. The lustre of the gold and silver glistened in Madawg’s eyes.

The Devil slithered up full-sized beside him and said, ‘The soul is turbulent, a burden never gives you any rest, wears you out day and night, let me carry it a while, take the load off you.’

Madawg stood rubbing his bristly jaw. He longed to find a way how to ease his suffering.

The Devil looked him in the eye and said, ‘I know hidden hoards of treasure, mounds of gold and precious stones buried long ago.’

Madawg asked him, tempted, ‘Where is it buried?’

‘Across the field out the churchyard,’ the Devil answered, pointing into the darkness. ‘I will show you.’

‘Such ill-gotten wealth ensnares the soul’, said the little wise angel.

A man must live, though, thought Madawg, what was he to do? ‘God give me strength’, he sighed. ‘I’m exhausted.’

‘You are slaves to God’, the Devil remarked. ‘I am here to help you.’

Madawg uttered, ‘It’s a wicked world, I’m terribly tired.’

‘Come along with me then’ said the Devil in a low voice in his ear, ‘Your soul is on a rocky road, I know an easier way along. I’ll lead you to another life away from here to a better world, away from strife.’ He paused an instant, whispered, ‘Honest to God.’

The little archangel shook her head and cautioned Madawg, ‘Be warned of the damned fiend arch-felon, it is endless agony.’

Madawg closed his eyes. He asked himself, which of these do I choose? He did not really know. Across his mind’s eye flashed a vision. He discerned a far hill belching fire and smoke where he saw his soul led off to a hollow tree with thousands upon thousands of wretched souls crying in agony and torment. The skies full of smoke.

He gazed in horror as he saw himself and others falling headlong into a bottomless pit. Madawg cried out in a panic, ‘O Lord, save me from that schemer!’ Then the soft music of a harp played in his ear with an echo of voices of saints and angels singing divinely at a distance. He listened. It was the promise of salvation. When he heard this, he forgot his fear.

It bolstered his courage. He looked up. He saw the gates of paradise open up for his soul and take his place among the angels.

Be brave, he told himself, all shall be well. I may be mortal but my soul is free. He felt filled with hope and defiance. He was prepared to fight it out. Use my wits, he thought, make my stand. Then he challenged the Devil. Making vague mystic movements with his hands, he declared, ‘You want my soul, I’ll fight you for it.’

The Devil laughed and replied, ‘You can’t trick me, I saw the first man made.’

At that moment Madawg made a sign with his hand that he knew, taught him by a travelling musician to ward off devils and demons. It was handed down generations ever since the Pharaohs. All at once the Devil screeched and leaped back. There was a fiery circle blazed up and rose around him. His tail was thrashing. ‘This is trickery!’ he cried out.

Madawg watched him as he was ranting and raving and writhing about on the ground. Then the flames blazed up and he vanished in a cloud of smoke in the ground. Oh hell, thought Madawg, and hurried homeward.