Dante’s Cappuccino

The Devil is a rather cordial fellow. I met him one afternoon at a coffee shop. Now, most people assume that they’d run into the Devil in a bar or an alley or a parking lot. Nope. The Fallen Angel, the Prince of Darkness, Lucifer, frequents coffee shops. I was in one of those independent places filled with liberal arts college hipsters and aspiring writers with MacBooks. Some people have joked to me that they expected that the Devil would be hanging out in a Starbucks. I actually asked him about that, and he said, “Even I wouldn’t be caught dead in such a place. What do you take me for?”

The first question I always get about that meeting is what is he like? He’s the Devil. He’s charming but serious, sarcastic but emphatic, intense but reflective. What he is not is some pall that kills the mood around him and preys on people unsuspecting of his identity. He’s rather inviting and reassuring.

His smile is slightly predatory, but the best smiles usually are. His whole face creases into a wide v. Unfortunately, he has a slight underbite, but he said he’s going to ask his dentist about it the next time he goes. When he doesn’t smile, he leans the top of his head forward, brings up his eyebrows, and only slightly parts his lips.

Another common question I get is what the Devil looks like. Dark, curly hair. Long sideburns. He’s not all that tall. Thin but not in the emaciated way and not athletic. Proportional, I guess, would be an appropriate way to describe him. The only thing seemingly sinister about his appearance would be his fingers – they’re a little longer and narrower than most people’s, but the Devil uses them theatrically. They suit him.

He said he was waiting for someone, but he’d shown up too early (traffic was far lighter than he’d anticipated), so he said he’d answer a few questions if I had any.

Nothing appropriate came to mind, so we just chatted for a bit to begin. He told me what he did for a living.

“I wait.”

“Wait?”

“Yes. Wait. It’s insufferably boring. I wait for people to fuck up. Once they do, I have to wait some more.”

“Wait for what?”

“To see what they’ll do about their transgressions. Will they apologize? Will they atone? Will they even seek atonement? If you’ve ever tried to slosh through Crime and Punishment, you only start to scratch the surface of the tedious waiting I have to endure while you humans mull over what to do. Then, if you choose to go on transgressing unabashedly, I have to wait for you to die. Once you’re dead, you’re mine. However, all these deathbed conversions and confessions really piss me off. Eighty-four years of waiting, but then bam. Cornelius decides he’s sorry and loves Jesus.”

“So, you just wait?”

“Wait, wait, and wait. All the time.”

“Why don’t you go tempt people?”

“I can’t do that.”

“You can’t do that?”

“I can’t do that. Trust me, I don’t have the resources or the time or the energy to create temptations for all you humans. I’d spend an eternity on one high school.”

“So, if you don’t provide temptations, who does?”

“You do.”

“I do?”

“Yes. Humans tempt each other. That’s your role and purpose.”

“The purpose of life is to tempt other people?”

“Alright, maybe not purpose. I forgot what weight you humans put to the whole ‘what is the purpose of life’ question. Tempting each other is more your role – one of your roles at least. Think of it like community service.”

“So, we tempt each other, and you wait?”

“Yep. The cosmos is disappointing when you find out how it really works, isn’t it?”

“What happens when we die, though?”

“You go to Heaven or Hell. That was a bit of a softball.”

“I mean, what’s Hell like?”

“You don’t want me to ruin the surprise for you, do you?”

At this point, I got really quiet and reflective. The Devil waited a few moments before breaking into laughter.

“I’m just messing with you. Nothing’s decided while you can still make choices. Free will, et cetera. You want to know what Hell is like?”

“I’m not sure,” I confessed.

“Let’s just say there’s orientation and then a few induction ceremonies. The first few weeks you’re kind of like a fraternity pledge, but we treat you better. You couldn’t comprehend the geography of Hell if I tried to explain it to you, so let’s ignore that.”

“Are we talking pools of fire and sulfur?”

“If you like. Everyone gets their own personalized little bit of Hell. You get what you earned throughout your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re good, you go to Heaven. If you’re bad, you go to Hell.”

“What constitutes good and bad, though?”

“Oh, come on. God and I worked all the guidelines out for you, and yet you humans all consistently insist on ignoring, revising, or claiming to rediscover them. Why can’t you be grateful that we didn’t just give you a bunch of riddles and a scavenger hunt?”

“Why did you get Hell?”

“Someone needed to run it, and my managerial style was perfect. Besides, there’s not a lot of potential for advancement in the hierarchy of Heaven. If it’s a job no one else wanted or could even do, and I’m ideal for it, why should I be shlepping around in Heaven?”

“So, why not sympathize with the sinners?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why not show mercy on the ruthless who end up in Hell? They did things similar to what you did. Granted, it’s all on a lesser scale, but you should be able to relate to them.”

“I do. I see a lot of myself in the people who pass under my threshold, but none of them are me. I can’t sympathize with anyone who is less than me, and a human is a lesser creature. You all have no idea what I am capable of. I defied God past the point of His forgiveness. You humans can sin and commit the most heinous crimes your finite minds can fathom, and God will forgive you, will still love you, will still invite you to spend eternity with Him. I was denied that luxury, but it was my greatest achievement. In withholding His love, God elevated me. He anointed me with that act, and no human can replicate that. For that reason, I am better than any liar or cheater or adulterer or rapist or murderer or blasphemer.”

“So, there is no sympathy in Hell?”

“No.”

“No mercy?”

“Not usually.”

“Should I even bother to ask what you did to God?”

“I defied Him.”

“But how?”

“Don’t you know the story?”

“I don’t know if it’s true.”

“Does that matter? I did it, and there is a Hell because of it.That is all your mind should know and can comprehend at this time.”

“May I ask a personal question?”

“Certainly.”

“What are you doing here?”

The Devil held up his coffee. “The girl working right now is the only one who gets my order just right.”

“I meant on earth.”

“I come up every now and then.”

“To do what?”

“I take vacations, too.”

“Who runs Hell when you’re gone?”

“I have this great bureaucracy set up. With eternity on my side, no one has a deadline, and, with unlimited resources, there is truly endless paperwork. I’m back before anyone realizes I even left.”

“What do you do when you’re up here?”

“Little bit of this. Little bit of that. I like to keep my options open. I write a little – articles, columns, sometimes books. I do some music. I tried painting, but I like sculpture more. I dabbled in acting, but that wasn’t for me. I’ve taught a few college courses, too.”

“All art and academics?”

“Well, people would be looking for me in business and politics, so I try to avoid them. The arts allow me to traverse emotional depths and toy with expression in ways other disciplines cannot afford. Every now and then I’ll bus tables or drive a rig or something.”

I could see the Devil delivering an impassioned speech in Congress. I could see the Devil goose-stepping across a square. I could see the Devil’s face on wanted posters. I could see the Devil in bed with a man’s wife. I could not see the Devil taking away my garbage or flipping a burger or mopping a floor or picking tomatoes.

“Why?”

“Why?” The Devil leaned toward me and spoke quickly. “It’s interesting to surround myself with the truly powerless and despondent. The people who are in need and who are yearning are the most fascinating people.”

“How so?”

“They have the most control. They always have the most to gain through transgressions. They have the least of reasons to have faith. Yet, they control themselves. It’s such a pity.”

“What do you do when you hang out with people up here?”

“Talk. Like this. I find human intellects intriguing. Your curiosity is your most redeeming factor. Ask Eve. You have creativity. If you didn’t, no offense, my favorite animal would be the platypus or flying squirrels.”

“Do you have relationships with people up here?”

“Like a family?”

“Anything.”

“I make friends, but it gets difficult to keep in touch. No family. No girlfriends or anything like that.”

“Why not?”

“I have myself. Why would I need another being – let alone a human being – to validate or improve my existence? Love is mankind’s great gift from God that you all decided to start regifting to each other to get laid. I don’t have much of a taste for it. Mankind’s greatest enemy is mankind, and yet, he cannot resist continuing his species. It is truly self-destructive arrogance at its finest.”

The Devil looked at his watch and told me that the person he was waiting for would probably be showing up soon. I understood and thanked him. He assured me that the pleasure was all his. With a final wolfish grin, he bade me farewell. I actually only went so far as the counter and ordered a coffee to go.

When I went to leave, I passed the Devil’s table. He was with an elderly woman. She was serious but joyful, two emotions until then I never thought could exist on one face at the same time.

“So, tell me,” the Devil said to the woman, “how was the funeral? I’m so sorry that I couldn’t make it.”

“No worries,” the lady reassured the Devil. “It was so moving. Cornelius would have approved. I just knew that God was there, you know? You know how you just feel it and know it? I knew that God was there.”

“I’m sure He was.” He took the woman’s hand tenderly. “You must be so lonely now ….”