Que Difícil é Ser Escravo de Deus!

Chapter N.IX

As it were, ajussi Jo got up from his chair. Little girl shuddered and, leaning back, instinctively covered herself with her hand. Jordan went to the table and, picking up this ill-fated book, turned to Delia, who stood in front of the chair, as if spellbound, and looked at ajussi through her fingers with some surprise, but without fear.

- I want do something nice for you, - he said, opening the pamphlet - You do love... - he suddenly fell silent and began turning the pages randomly.

Delia involuntarily wondered what her adult friend had in mind. Baby girl lowered her hand from her face and, narrowing her eyes, carefully looked at his concentrated face.

- What I love? - she asked with barely concealed curiosity. - Read? Paint?

- Incinerate, - answered unexpectedly ajussi Jo and violently pulled the book by the edges of the binding.

There was the sound of tearing paper, and several book pages flew into the floorboards. The next moment, Jordan began tearing the book to pieces with a vengeance, while Delia silently watched his actions. She could not even think that she could be so delighted with the sight of an adult man, bothering himself with such an atypical activity for his age. Soon a pile of tattered paper pages lay at ajussi Jo's feet, and the hardcover he hadn't been able to tear was thrown to the floor beside them. Joyful man took out a lighter from his pocket and nodded to the girl, who involuntarily felt funny, but she managed to suppress a smile, not wanting to seem impolite.

- Take these shreds, - ajussi Jo kicked the paper, - and take it to the hearth.

After these words, he moved to the opposite corner of the room, and Delia, after a little hesitation, squatted down next to what's left of a foolish book and began to carefully pick it up from the floor - piece by piece - folding them into the hem of her light skirt, which she usually wore in autumn, when the weather was still warm enough to walk in easy clothes. When Delia had collected everything, she straightened up and turned to the mantelpiece, where ajussi Jo was already standing.

- Get over here, - he beckoned her with a gesture.

Holding the hem of her skirt, the girl slowly, so as not to spill the paper, moved towards him. As soon as she was near Jordan, the man bent down and opened the iron door of the fireplace.

- Throw all your burden in there, - he nodded to her, referring to the book's odds and ends.

Delia released her hands from her skirt in relief, and the paper fell with a rustle right into the dark maw of the fireplace. Only the cardboard halves of the binding did not seem to want to agree with this and with a barely audible thud fell under her feet. Little girl had to bend down and pick them up from the floor, after which she threw him to the rest of the scraps.

- You make me proud! - exclaimed ajussi Jo with inappropriate triumph. - Now step aside.

Delia obeyed, and her adult friend squatted in front of the fireplace and flicked on his lighter. A few seconds later, a crack was heard right in front of his face, but nothing terrible, of course, happened - it was just a small fire flaring up, and in a few moments the flames were already licking the paper and carton folded in the middle of the fireplace. Ajussi Jo got up, brushed the dust off his knees, and shoving his hands into his trouser pockets stood beside the girl.

- The Book of Light, they say... - with irony in his voice he muttered softly, looking at the fire.

- Let there be light! - Delia answered cheerfully, her eyes fixed on the flames dancing in the fireplace.

So Jo & Delia stood for a while, silently watching as the fire turns tabloid esoteric fiction into what it essentially is - to ashes, only not figuratively, but literally. The girl had the feeling that the act of burning they had just committed, is a challenge to the whole society of these demented psychics who themselves do not understand the meaning of their pseudoscientific teachings, but with surprising perseverance they try to teach it to others, naively believing, as if an educated person has any business with their ridiculous and senseless fuss with crystals and such nonsense, ostensibly bringing human benefit and purification.