Paradise [Draft 1]

Chapter 3: Leviticus (4561)

Chapter 3: Leviticus (4561)

Duckman, that's what they called him. He didn't know it, but that's what they called him on his road. Duckman because he looked like a duck. Nobody bothered him, and he bothered nobody. He never left his house unless it was to go to the corner shop at the end of the road, or the library up the hill. He went from one to the other each day, with a plastic bag full of messages and a sketchpad under his arm, and the people would say, 'oh look, there goes Duckman'.

Just another one of Evermarch's oddities, not leaving his local area enough to be one of the weel kent folk, but well known on his road. He didn't go to the pub, or take a paper, so when the tower blocks disappeared on the other side of the river, he assumed that they had been knocked down and he had not noticed.

When the corner shop disappeared where he used to buy his morning rolls and was replaced by a warung he assumed that it was just another change that he had to get used to. Afterall, ten years ago, the hairdresser he went to had changed into a financial advisor's office and that had been even more baffling. Now he got his rolls from the minimarket by the library and his soto ayam from the warung.

He had no idea that God was back. (And bigger than ever before, baby!) He did not read the newspapers or watch the news. He had no friends. For thirty years he had played no part in society and expected nothing from it. He lived off a small inheritance, a meagre pension and whatever form of social security entitlement happened to be in vogue in any given decade.

His best friend was a garden gnome that stood in an overgrown garden at the other end of his road. When a young man had moved in there, he had put the gnome in the front garden ironically, underneath a wild fern. Rain or shine the gnome stood there, under the fronds, a happy smile on his face and his hand raised in a friendly wave. Duckman began waving to the gnome as he went past. This went on for years.

The young man that lived at the house got married and Duckman would see his wife tending to the garden, tidying it up a bit and planting bulbs. She did not disturb the gnome, which made Duckman happy. One day he did a little drawing of the gnome at the library with the words 'Gnome, sweet gnome' on it and left it on their doorstep.

Round about the time the tower blocks disappeared, the couple had a baby, which was why, he assumed, the garden went back to being overgrown again. Around that time too, people started wearing masks, at the shop and at the library, so he did too. They gave them away free at the library and since it seemed to be required, he always wore one when out of the house, even though he found them rather uncomfortable. Still, he liked to do his sketches each day, from the library books, of animals and far off places, so it was a discomfort worth enduring.

He had no idea that some of his neighbours used to watch him amble up and down their road, with amusement and speculation on his life. Little did they know that what they saw was all there was.

One day he was dismayed to see that part of the gnome's hat had been chipped off, he didn't know how it had happened, hit by a falling stick from one of the trees in the garden perhaps. The gnome still smiled, but he did not look quite so jolly with half of his little blue hat missing.

Duckman went so far as stepping into the garden to look at the damage.

The man's wife came to the door. She startled him by saying, 'you know, you need to put tassels on your coat now, hun. You don't want the muta to get you!'

He was too shocked to reply and ran back to his house. The woman's comments made him remember a letter, addressed to the 'homeowner', that had arrived a couple of months ago. He'd disregarded it, as he did all his mail, but now he re-read it, paying attention this time.