The Complete Roderick

that?’

On the screen the vacant features of Ben Franklin registered shock. ‘Who was here? Who was here?’

‘…must of just about met him. Roderick. He was wearing a red stocking- cap…’

‘I did meet him! He came out of the elevator… Dan, God damn it, we were face to face… ’

‘God damn it is right,’ said the viewer again.

The Church of Christ Symmetrical was just a derelict store in a rundown neighbourhood. Roderick almost passed it without noticing, for it was marked only by a dusty mirror set up in an even dustier window, with a small sign:

CHURCH OF CHRIST SYMMETRICAL

You are looking at the person who controls your destiny!

And that person is looking at you!!!

Inside it didn’t seem much like a church, except for the emptiness. There were a dozen rows of folding chairs (some set up facing backwards) but only four were occupied: Four ragged men sat hunched over, each quietly consulting his pocket mirror.

Having no pocket mirror, Roderick went to the front of the church, where the place of an altar was taken by a table of reading matter. He removed his red cap but, seeing others wearing caps, put it back on.

One pamphlet showed a photo of a Byzantine plate, decorated with a picture of the Last Supper. The picture clearly showed two Christs, one giving bread to six disciples, the other giving wine to the other six. The spidery handwriting beneath said, ‘The Last shall be First!!!’

Another pamphlet outlined significant passages in the Bible (‘thy breasts are like two roes that are twins’) and pointed out Biblical symmetries: Two tables of the Law, Solomon offers to divide a child equally in half; 72 books in the Old Testament and 27 books in the New, four evangelists having initials M, M, L and J, and so on. A donation was requested, to help with the great work of preparing the Bible in mirror-writing. Roderick contributed a symmetrical I I cents, this being all he had in his pocket.

‘Thank you,’ said a small, red-nosed man coming up the aisle with a large mirror in his hands. ‘I see you appreciate the urgency of our work.’

‘I’m not sure I even understand what your work is.’

‘Aha! You will, you will. My name is Amos Soma, by the bye, and I’d like to shake your hand for Christ.’

Roderick could hardly refuse so civil a request; he spoke his name and shook the man’s hand. As they did so, Mr Doma held up his mirror: their images shook left hands.

‘Of course my name has not always been Soma. I took it because of its wonderful symmetry: Soma, the Vedic drink of ecstasy, and Amos, the greatest of prophets. Now, Mr Wood, if you’ll find a seat, our meeting can begin.’

Roderick took a seat near the back. Two well-dressed men came in and sat still further back.

‘First,’ said Amos, ‘I have a few important announcements to make. There has been another calumnious attack on us in the church press. As usual, they accuse us of “Mirror worship”, of saying the Lord’s Prayer backwards, and of so-called black magic. Frankly I don’t feel lies like these are worth answering, so I’ll drop that subject. I also have a positive announcement: our Bible translation is ahead of schedule, and we have now finished Sudoxe.’

A man in a parka, sitting a few rows ahead of Roderick, turned around and said to him in a loud whisper, ‘You aren’t spying on me or anything?’

‘No.’

‘I didn’t think so.’

Amos began his sermon: ‘I want you all to reflect tonight on the cross. Notice how symmetrical the cross is. Right and left reflect, but not top and bottom. Why is that?

‘It is because the cross is shaped like a man. But why, you might ask, is man symmetrical? He could have been made any shape at all. God didn’t need to make you with one eye on the right side of your nose and one on the left. Oh no, God could have made you like one of those modernistic paintings, with an eye on your chin and another on your forehead!’

Amos paused for laughter. There was none. ‘No, God made man symmetrical because He made him in His own image. God Himself is symmetrical. He has a right and a left. Everybody knows that Christ “sitteth on the right hand of the Father”, so the Father must have a right hand.’

The man in the parka turned around again. ‘You sure they didn’t send you to watch me?’

‘No.’

‘No, I don’t suppose they’d bother.’

Amos went on, discoursing for some time on left and right — the hemispheres of the brain, magnetic ‘handedness’, whirlpools, political leanings, Lewis Carroll — and why God made mirror symmetry. God meant for us to meet our mirror images face to face (how else?), to talk to them, and to bring them to salvation.

The parka turned around again. ‘You impressed by this bullcrap?’

‘Yes I guess I am.’

‘Me too. Funny, because I think I know what’s wrong with old Amos.’

‘What’s that?’

‘He’s just ambidextrous. He can write with both hands, that means. So the thing is, he doesn’t know if he’s right- or left-handed. He doesn’t know which side of the mirror he’s living on, and it drives him nuts. He wants to convert everybody on both sides, just to play it safe.’

Roderick said, ‘Then you don’t believe.’

‘Oh I don’t know. You have to believe in something. Every week or so I try some new religion or some new political movement. And the thing is, I always believe.’

At the end of the meeting, the man introduced himself as Luke Draeger. ‘I was thinking about going to the bar on the corner, you know it? The Tik Tok Club. Figured I’d sit there and stare at myself in the mirror — till I get double vision. You might as well come along and spy on me.’

‘The name is Roderick Wood, and I’m not a spy. And I don’t drink.’

‘Rickwood, everybody drinks. Especially spies. Come on, you need a drink.’

The two men in the back got up and left.

‘But I really don’t drink. All I really need is a job. Before I become — well, a beggar, like this old guy.’

The old man he meant wore a long black overcoat, almost to the ground, which somewhat resembled a cassock. He had produced a cracked saucer from one pocket and was pretending to take up a collection.

‘Howdy doody, gents,’ he said, approaching. ‘Spare a little contribution for the mm-hmm-mmf…?’

Luke dropped a few coins on his saucer. ‘There, you old fraud. I’ve seen you taking up collections in every storefront church around here.’

‘Bless you, sir, it’s only for the clothes. Against the terrible winter.’

Roderick took off the red stocking-cap and handed it over. ‘You need this more than I do. In fact I don’t need it at all.’

‘Bless you, bless you…’ The old man salaamed away.

Luke was impressed. ‘You’re outa work and you give away your cap. By God I like that. To hell with getting a drink, I’m gonna get you a job. I work at this little factory, see, and they always need extra men.’

He led the way outside against the blustering wind and wet sleet, to an alley between two warehouses. Roderick followed cautiously to a rickety fire escape, then all the way up to the roof. There Luke knocked on an iron door which, to Roderick’s surprise, opened at once. A fat yawning woman let them in. To Luke she said, ‘Boss wants to see you. Right now.’ She looked at Roderick. ‘Who’s this?’

‘This is my old pal Rickwood. I’m just gonna show him around, he might accept the offer of a job here.’

‘Ha! Better see the Boss first.’