Tiki's Revenge (1)
Edward L Wier

In the darkness the two brightly burning torches revealed Ed's glowing face. He sat between the flames on his small third-story suburban porch with a slightly crazed but pleasant look which floated above a routinely rising glass of red wine. The party went well but had ended early leaving him alone with his girlfriend, Deborah. And although their spirited guests were gone the hosting couple still had some momentum, music, and leftover wine which needed finishing. Then Deborah appeared in the open sliding glass doorway muting the Hawaiian music from inside, looking good.
"I have to get some of these for my place. They're great. Where did you say you got them?"
"Drug Emporium. A dollar ninety-nine each. But make sure you get the citronella oil, it keeps the bugs away. I'll mount them for you."
"You realize you've been sitting there the whole night. Maybe our guests weren't quite ready to worship you?"
"I can't help it. It makes me feel like a tribal god, which actually feels pretty good. It feels much better than that unemployed feeling."
"Have you heard from that school in Marietta?"
"Nah. I think I should pursue the tribal god idea. Don't you? Put my degree to work! Dr.Tiki banish ignorance! Give many test!"
"I think we should get a place together. I can't keep helping you with rent."
"Please don't force me to work in my father's store. 'Mrs. Hampton, your suppositories will be out in just a minute.' No, not again, please."
"At least you'd have some money coming in."
Ed took another sip of wine, put on a disturbed, distant expression, and lowered his voice.
"BRING ME A SACRIFICE! UNDERGRADUATE! TIKI ANGRY! APPEASE ME!"
Deborah laughed as she pranced over and sat in his lap, balancing her glass over their heads.
"Deborah willing. Roast me in the fire of your passion!"
"SHE MUST BE VIRGIN! HA! HA! TIKI MAKE TIKI LAUGH!"
Meanwhile, in the spirit world, Tiki, an obscure, mildly omniscient god with a humble court, once popular with Polynesians, looked on in frustration.
"Virgin! You'd have more luck finding a cannibal in a health-food store! Damn right I'm angry! My fire spreads across the land and burns from my torches but no one sacrifices. No one prays. No one fears me anymore. These worthless, educated creatures celebrate and dance around my fire but pay no homage. Look at that idiot!"
Deborah was cleaning off the balcony while Ed continued his gleeful, drunken posturing between the torches.
"Forget virgin. Bring me dark-roasted island girl and pineapple. NOW! Glaze both with honey. Then sky will rain macadamia nuts for all my people. HA! HA! HA!"
Tane, Tiki's second in command, tried to comfort the seething god.
"Do not be angry lord. These are a shallow, fair-skinned, and ignorant people despite their education. They live with no dignity of purpose and worship only themselves. They are foolish at heart. They do not deserve to fear you."
"Yes, but how long must I endure the tainting of my majesty and the desecration of my torches? I am all but forgotten Tane. Am I the god of Gilligan's Island, grass skirts, pineapples, and bamboo? NO! I AM TIKI!"
A chorus ensued.
"TIKI! TIKI! TIKI!..."
"SILENCE!"
On the balcony, the torches flared up simultaneously, then resumed their steady flame. It caught Deborah's attention and she looked over at her chubby, suburban, self-proclaimed tribal-god-of-a-boyfriend. Perhaps her parents were right.
"What was that?" she said.
But Ed continued drinking, ignoring her and the strangeness of the incident, while speaking in broken English.
"Oil cheap! Make bad flame. Not worthy of Tiki! Bring me new oil, fresh squeezed from glands of virgin sheep. Good quality! Tiki ANGRY!"
Deborah looked at him with her mouth open.
"You are crazy."
"Tiki not crazy. Woman crazy for being with Tiki. Good thing you are virgin. Otherwise, SACRIFICE! MORE WINE! OBEY!"
He held out his empty glass.
"Tiki get off lazy ass and get own wine. Deborah clean."
"YOU DARE REFUSE TIKI! I will bring many curses upon you for your slothful spirit. You will wear uncomfortable underwire bra! Eat low-fat food, yet gain many pounds. Dog mess on carpet! Parent's stop by, unexpected! Yeast infection! IRS audit! Zipper break! Run out of stamps! Toilet overflow! You will loathe the day you refused Tiki!"
His glass was still empty.
Tiki continued with a disturbed tone, not fitting even for a lesser god.
"You are wise, Tane. But if we do not get some worshippers soon, we may fall from the meager plane we now occupy. Then where will we be? What will you and Maui do? Sell bamboo furniture? Make appearances? There is no Las Vegas in Hawaii."
Tane and Maui, Tiki's understudy, kept silent.
"You do know space here is limited and we are evaluated strictly by numbers. I've already received two notices from the board. Either our following picks up soon or it's flesh and blood for all of us. The thought sickens me. We need to dip into the Jews and the Christians. But how can we convert them? Fear is in recession, and fire has lost it's zing. The meteorologists have stolen all the mystery from thunder and lightning. The idiotic scientists have explained everything. It's just a lousy time for local gods. And it's turning into a monopoly. I am troubled. But, I suppose if I am banished by the board to the physical world, I can always wear a grass skirt and get a torch endorsement or something."
Tiki pretended he was looking into a camera and spoke sarcastically.
"Summer is here and it's barbecue time. Ask for the original Tiki torch, the only one blessed by me, TIKI! Don't settle for imitations. It makes me ANGRY! And when I get angry...it rains. [A crack of thunder!] Now available at all Drug Emporium, Target, and Sears locations.
Or maybe I could get a radio talk show. 'Go ahead, you're on Torch Talk with Tiki. Yeah, Tiki, sometimes my torches seem to flare up unexpectedly. Is this your awesome anger manifesting itself through eternal fire, or is it simply bad oil?'"
"Do not speak such nonsense, Master. It is taboo. You are still great."
Tane was looking at Maui with a doubtful expression as he continued.
"Things will pick up. The people of Earth live in cycles. Ignorance, fear, and fire could be just around the corner again."
"Let's hope so, Tane, for all our sakes."
Then Tiki sat back in his thatched throne and began to reminisce, gesturing with his hands.
"In the old days, gods were gods and men were men. All a god had to do was a little hocus-pocus and they would fall on their knees in shivering, delightful fear. A cloud of smoke here, a little thunder there, throw in some fire, and you had them praying to you for everything. Everything! Rain, children, food. Everything. Things that would happen anyway!"
Maui looked at Tane and rolled his eyes.
"Then the Almighty shows up, parting oceans, raining food from the sky, Heaven, Hell, miracles, love, forgiveness, all that. Don't get me wrong. That was good. Real good. Probably the best. But it's just not my style. Good old-fashioned fear produces longer lasting results. Look at the percentages. Maybe one out of every hundred Christians or Jews have any true fear of their god. I don't get it. Who wants loving devotion? What happened to the real gods?"
Maui spoke with an endearing confidence.
"The problem is with them, not you master."
"Sure, I hear my name called all the time, but not in supplication or agony. I think I'm being summoned, but it's just people asking for those damn torches. 'Do you have Tiki torches?' I don't even listen anymore. I never should have let Luk talk me into the torch thing. It looked good on paper, but it was a lousy idea. Humiliating." Then Maui spoke sternly to Tiki.
"I was against the torch program. And I was not in favor of you doing that cameo appearance on Gilligan's Island either. You know that. Luk had no sense of propriety."
"I know, I know. I was desperate. I'm glad he's gone, but I sometimes feel for the Christians. Luk, with his great bumper sticker campaign. He took the most powerful, majestic god in the universe and put his name on pens, tee shirts, and combs. Flesh and blood was too good for him."
Tane was pacing thoughtfully, then spoke.
"Perhaps we need a new approach Master?"
"Maybe we should just be patient and wait for the pendulum to swing," Maui suggested.
"We don't have time to be patient! And, in case you've forgotten, PATIENCE IS NOT ONE OF MY VIRTUES! You sound like you've been reading the Bible! Perhaps you two need to find a new god. Maybe one with a little more power! Is this the making of a new myth here? You want me to kick both of you out now on your condescending, disrespectful, Mediterranean asses! Have you been talking with Lucifer? Oh, get out of my sight! BOTH OF YOU! NOW! GO!"
The anger felt good coursing through Tiki's body, like it used to, in the old days.
Deborah had put the remaining glasses in the dishwasher and danced her way back to the balcony. Ed, energized by the wine, which, by the way, he had to get himself, was feeling more powerful by the minute. He grumbled.
"Tiki feel desire."
"Deborah feel tired."
"Tiki want Deborah."
"Deborah want sit. What does 'Tiki' mean?"
Ed came out of character for a moment, turning his head slightly.
"I have no idea. Why don't you look it up for me? It feels good on the tongue though. Tiki, Tiki, Tiki. Say it."
"Tiki." She shook her head.
"It's one of those words like Zimbabwe. Zim-bab-we It just feels good to say. It must mean something. Maybe fire? Cheap torch? I don't know. I'll look it up. Who wants to be an ignorant tribal god? Tiki tired of sitting."
Ed pushed himself up off his throne and went to get the dictionary, while Deborah sipped her wine and stared blankly into a torch flame. Not a bug all night. He was sitting back down in a few seconds flipping through the dictionary.
"Let's see...tights, tight-wad. Look, you're in here, honey."
"Easy, Tiki."
"Tike, tigress. No, that's you. Here we go, tiki. It's not capitalized."
The flames flickered a bit.
"Pronounced tee-kee, Maori and Marquesan, whatever that means. That's probably the language? Ah, it is capitalized here. 'The creator of mankind in Polynesian myth. Two, a wood or stone image of a Polynesian supernatural power.' It looks like Tiki is a god."
Tiki perked up from his anger trance and tried to focus on the scene.
"No kidding, you idiot. What a revelation. TANE! MAUI! Are you watching this? Guess what? I'm a god. Can you believe it? Webster says so! Me, a god, a creator even! I've been discovered. Get out the smoke and lightning boys, we're gonna rock and roll! TANE! MAUI! DAMMIT, WHERE ARE YOU TWO!"
Tiki got up, walked a few thundering steps, and called again.
"MAUI! TANE!"
But there was silence. He looked over to his single portal entrance done in layered gold bamboo and thatch. There was a note attached. He walked over and snatched it impatiently.

Most Glorious Tiki:

By the time you get this note, Tane and I will be gone. We have reluctantly decided to take new positions on other planes. Tane has taken an entry level job with Pan (You know his fondness of sheep) and it looks like I am going to work for Jehovah. Please do not take our leaving personally, as we gave it much careful consideration and mean no disrespect. We could not, however, see any path out of the obscurity we have all suffered as of late. The world has changed so much. And, as you yourself said, it is indeed a lousy time for local gods, not to mention their servants. We will always cherish the years of fear, superstition, and anger we shared with you and wish you all the best in your future endeavors, spiritual or physical.


Regrettably,

Maui

Tiki crumpled up the letter and continued squeezing it hard in his hand.
"Bastards!"
Then he held both his fists above his head, raised his angry, red face and released a scream which would have rattled the rafters of the spirit world, if there had been any.
Out on the balcony, Deborah and Ed were discussing mythology with what little knowledge and experience they had, when, suddenly, both torches were extinguished simultaneously like they had been blown out by a powerful, invisible breath. It startled Deborah and she started to scream but put her hand to her mouth.
"Damn. Must be out of oil," Ed said casually, getting up to go to the utility room.
"That was weird. Those torches have been doing strange things all night. Haven't you noticed?"
While he was gone, Deborah took the lighter and lit both torches. When he returned, Ed stood in the doorway with the bottle of yellow oil hanging at one side, and a bottle of red wine in the other.
"What did you do?"
"They weren't out of oil."
"You play trick on Tiki?"
"Stop it! All this is scaring me."
"Let's summon him."
"What!"
"Let's summon him. If Tiki is a god, then let's ask him to appear. What the heck."
"Where is all this coming from? You are wasted Edward. Well, you can stay up and summon Tiki, but I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
Deborah leaned over and kissed him.
"You smell more like what's-his-name. Who's the god of wine in Greek mythology?"
"Dionysos."
"I'm impressed."
"He and I go way back, but we don't speak much these days. We were at a party and he kept babbling like a drunken idiot, on and on about vintages, years and grapes, and I said, 'Hey Dion! Put a cork in it!'"
But Deborah was already gone, leaving Ed chuckling to himself between the eerie glow of the twin torches. Ed always hung around for his own show. If you could drink away unemployment, he would be starting in the morning. While he dreamed alone of power, Tiki was alone as well, seated on his throne, savoring perhaps the final drops of his godly reign, his anger now subsiding into a bland mood of mortal anticipation. What was left of his anger flared pitifully, then trailed off into eternal silence. The torches did not even flicker.
"BRING ME... a cheeseburger and toothbrush and a... damn."
Hours later, Ed found himself in front of an empty, three-liter bottle of Chianti. The music had stopped long ago and he could hear the early morning breeze blowing in the trees. It was getting colder, and a strange spirit possessed him now. He closed his eyes, put his head down, and spoke in a shivering, quiet voice.
"Tiki, if you can hear me, manifest yourself now to me, please. I need you."
Feeling his head start to spin, he lifted it and opened his eyes, trying hard to focus.
In his peripheral vision, he thought he saw the two torch flames separating from their wicks. He closed his eyes and opened them again. Then he moved off his throne but fell to the indoor-outdoor carpet below. When he looked up again, the two flames were hovering away from the torches, moving towards a middle point between. At first he felt disbelief. Then a wry smile appeared on his face.
"Tiki?"
The flames converged and now a different light emanated from the floating fire. There was a swirling motion and a depth to the sight, almost like a three-dimensional television image. As the features of a face formed in the glow, Ed had no need for belief.
The image spoke.
"I am Tiki."
"DEBORAH!" Ed's adrenaline broke like water in a pregnant woman.
"SILENCE! She can not hear you. She will sleep till morning. Your fear is understandable and appreciated, but do not be a fool. You have summoned me. I am here. I am pleased that you have prostrated yourself. This is good. Remove your shoes. You have never spoken with a god?"
"No..sir. Not like this. I have prayed, but I never get a personal response. How do I know you are a god?"
"Who does such things as you now witness?"
"Have you heard of David Copperfield?"
"WHO?"
"Nevermind."
"The greater gods are too busy to appear to those who summon. You might as well try to see the President. There are many benefits in knowing a lesser god, Edward, personal appearance being one of them. The shoes!"
Ed began untying the laces while continuing to speak.
"You don't sound at all like I thought you would. You don't sound... primitive."
"All of that is a caricature, and a sad commentary on the state of your world. Gods have to speak to many people in many languages. You can't speak them all fluently. Let's hear you speak a little Persian doctor. Besides, when you hear an accent with broken English, you should think 'Here is a person who knows more than I do.' You should have respect. At least they are trying to speak your language. You are a teacher? I would expect you to know such things."
I'm being lectured by a god. While Ed swore inwardly that he would never drink again, or perhaps never stop drinking again, Tiki continued.
"Do not think that wine has made you mad. We speak. In your heart, you know. Don't reject the obvious. This tendency is a great wickedness of your people. It has led to many costly, foolish endeavors."
Ed was now on his knees before the vision, feeling surprisingly sober, curious, and unafraid. It wasn't that bad, actually.
"But I thought there was only one god."
"You thought wrong. Well, in a way this is true. Just like there is only one car to drive. A Mercedes, right? It's not that simple. What if I suggested that you were a god?
Ed pinched his lower lip and raised his eyebrows. Tiki continued.
"I thought you were a Christian? Don't you read your holy book? John, chapter ten, verse thirty-four? 'You are gods.' Your own scripture reveals this. How is it you are so ignorant? The witch doctors in Samoa know more than you."
Ed was beginning to feel a sense of shame he hadn't felt since he was a child.
"We can talk theology some other time. I will answer all your questions, except for the stupid ones. Think before you speak. Enough small talk. We'll have plenty of time for discussion later."
"We will?"
"Let's get down to the business at hand."
"Business?"
"So? You need Tiki? I'm flattered. You speak truth. But Tiki may need Ed as well. Things are not so good here in the spirit world. In fact, I may be leaving soon and I'm going to need a place to stay for a while. It's a long story and I can't go into it now. But, I do have a business proposition for you. It could be very lucrative. All I need is a place to stay and for you to do a few simple tasks for me."
"Like what?"
"Phone calls, driving, that sort of thing. I won't have a license. Nothing major. You need the money. Deborah is a wonderful woman. It would be a shame to lose her because of your pride. I was married to the goddess Diana, once. But we did have a beautiful daughter. You'd be a fool to not take advantage of this situation. Do we have a deal?"
Ed was dreamily digesting the conversation when Tiki's question startled him.
"A deal?"
"YES! A deal YOU...I suppose you should know. I do have a little temper problem. I should probably get some counseling once I get there."
Tiki calmed himself.
"Yes. A deal. I help you. You help me. Isn't that what you call a good deal? I can feel the physical world tugging even as we speak. It's disgusting, clammy. Quick! Give me your address."
"Let me think..."
"QUICKLY!"
"1604 Woodcliff Drive, Dunwoody, Georgia, 303..."
"That's enough. Wait for me. I will come."
The image disappeared. The flames split and began to move back to the wicks. But they faltered, and then faded into nothingness before they arrived, leaving Ed staring into the dark, windy woods. Then he lifted himself up, scratched his soon-to-be-aching head, and went to bed. Deborah grunted and reluctantly made room for him.
Ed woke up the next morning with Deborah already gone. For a moment he remembered nothing of the night before but then sat up quickly, the light stinging his eyes, as the memory of his encounter with Tiki flooded his consciousness. He immediately got up, put on his candy-striped robe, and walked out to the balcony. With his head pounding, he surveyed the leftover scene of the previous night. As he looked into the big, empty bottle of Chianti, he shook his head and wondered. Had it happened? Had he dreamed it? Something happened. As the pieces began to fall into place, he remembered Tiki's final words. 'I will come.' He went into the kitchen to make coffee. Through his condition, he felt a definite uneasiness. I will come.
Early that same evening, Ed picked up the phone to hear Deborah's playfully sarcastic voice.
"So did you contact Tiki?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"He said he needed a place to stay for a while. He wasn't doing well."
She laughed.
"So, Tiki is going to live with you? A live-in god? Stylin'."
"I gave him my address."
"I hope he has lots of aspirin and money. Can he get you a job?"
"He said he wanted to make a deal."
"A deal? You gonna sing the blues, boy? You didn't sign anything did you?"
She was enjoying this. Ed was confused, but telling the truth the best he could.
"No."
"Can he cook?"
"He didn't say. Fondue maybe."
"I've got to work till seven-thirty. You want to go to Marquito's? My treat."
"Sure. I'll meet you there. Eight?"
"I would tell you to bring Tiki if he shows up, but he probably doesn't eat Mexican food."
"Bye Deborah."
"See you then."
Such conversations and meetings continued for days, and the subject of Tiki came up less and less. Ed sat on the porch, but did not light the torches. He had all but decided that the encounter was simply in his own drunken imagination. But Deborah could sense that something was different about her usually flippant partner. He did not kid around as much especially when he was drinking. He was also reading much more than usual, mostly mythology.
Then, one afternoon while Ed was going through his files, looking for material he could exaggerate for his resume, there were two, bold knocks on his front door. In his mind, the two knocks immediately sounded like two syllables of a name he had said many times recently. On his way to the door, the loud double knock sounded again.
"HOLD ON!"
Ed was headed down the steps. When he got to the door, he put one eye up to the viewer and in the small, rounded image saw the dark face of a middle-aged man which looked vaguely familiar. Then he saw one large eye under a burly eyebrow moving towards his face. Ed backed away and heard an impatient voice.
"Edward! It's me. In the flesh."
Ed immediately felt conflicting impulses. Was Deborah playing a joke on him?
"ED! Don't be a fool. Open the door."
In the midst of his scattered thoughts, he found himself opening the door, slowly.
Standing in front of him, he found a short, sturdy, middle-aged man wearing baggy shorts which revealed two dark, hairy muscular legs extending down to tennis shoes. No socks. Looking up, he saw a large, but not really fat, belly pushing out a faded purple sports shirt. He had strong forearms and his olive face was well rounded under his healthy, thick, dark hair. For some reason he thought of vacation.

Copyright � 1998 Edward L Wier
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"