Part 25

Lech puckered his face to allow the cogs in his memory to correctly align in an attempt to recall the important information exactly as he remembered it.

'I was hearing this from someone in the afterlife,' he said. 'The Boggles are workers at the coalface of humanity, labeling everything with their tiny stickers according to the rules laid down since God knows when.'

'God, schmod,' said the president dismissively and uncharacteristically Jewishly.

'Everyone knows he doesn't exist. And why people in the afterlife keep on pretending he does is beyond me. What's the point in believing in God when you're dead?'

'Because,' said Lutha, 'it's not all about living and dying as you well know. Well, OK, it is all about living and dying. But God controls the dead as well as the living.'

'But nobody ever sees him,' said the president exasperated.

'Well, you've got to have some mystery in life….And death.'

'Do you know what you're talking about?' said the president.

'It is beyond me,' said Lutha. 'Knowledge is a dangerous thing. Would pigeons coo if they knew they could bark?'

The president looked blank. 'Can we get back to the Boggles?' he said.

'By all means.'

'Thank you. Now, I'm prepared to concede that the Boggles are the ones who put up all these labels, but, where are they?'

'Ah, their living quarters I am not aware of. I think I must have drifted off or did the hoovering at that point in the conversation.'

'You hoover?'

'You asking?'

'I'm asking.'

'I hoover.'

'You hoover when people talk to you?'

'Only if I cannot be bothered to listen. Besides at the time I was dropping eaves while other people were talking. They were outside, I was inside. Hoovering. But, yes, I do still sometimes just hoover if someone is talking to me and I don't like or understand what they are saying. It helps me block things out and not have to get confused by extra knowledge moving into my head and getting rid of the stuff already there which I want to keep. This makes sense, yes? Anyway, I have not brought my vacuum with me, so you don't have to worry about me starting it up on you at any time or anything. Shall we search for the Boggles?'

The president decided it was quicker not to take issue with Lech's logic. 'I don't think that's our main objective here,' he said. 'We have to find our way out of this mind and onto terra firma.'

Lech looked scared.

Mistaking his facial expression for bewilderment, the president elucidated:

'Earth. I mean earth. The world. The land of the living. The…'

By now, Lech 's face had assumed a look of frozen horror. He raised his one good arm slowly to point with his mangled fingers, indicating something behind JFK. The president looked round sharply to see a series of spiny tendrils emerging from the dark towards him.

Next week: The plot sickens