Note from Mr. Hem's diary: -- They have built a monument in Stillwater; it is at the far end of Main Street, a statue of me. I sense they got a realization of each other. Kind of a religion, brotherhood, they said through my two books, I have brought them national fame, pride. Yet, my life seems very puzzling. Every time I want to leave Stillwater, I get this puzzled feeling, or sensation. The statue is nothing heroic but very fine. There is an inscription on it, it reads "Dead Roots Drama" and has a thin outer coating of cement. Not sure what the inscription means though.

That's when I was standing by that monument when I noticed a familiar face, yours. One I had not seen since I was eighteen years old, you looked at me, and I at you and then a realization of each other set in:

Part Two

Cheaper Five; End Chapters

(Narrator) Mr. Ernest Hem, had met Mr. Richard Shape, the psychologist, by accident, it was not meat to be. He had died on March 1, 1965, when Hem was eighteen, on November 5, 1966; Ernest Hem was nineteen-years old. How could this be, thought Ernest now standing shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Sharpe.

"I must be in a dream," said Ernest to Richard, "how on earth can I be seeing you when you're dead?"

"Ernest, let me explain," says Richard, "remember when we went to high school, and Mr. Magnusson our Earth Science teacher said: after you've checked everything out, and you still cannot come up with the answer, go to the unbelievable?"

Hem looks about, his world looks as it always has, says "Yes, so what."

"If I'm dead, then you're dead."

"I don't believe it."

"Why, because all you've known is the other world? How do you know what world you're in?"

"Not completely, but all the people I've seen and talked to, they confirm I'm in reality, and you are not, you're a vision of some sort."

"I know all the people you've talk to: the judge, the priest, your employer, and even Mr. Headman, the Doctor. They are all new to Stillwater, matter of fact, Stillwater is new to old Stillwater, and you are in the New Stillwater"

"What do you mean New Stillwater?"

"We all came into your life when you took the job at the newspaper, but you died at the party, you drank twenty-shots of booze, your close friend tried to get you to the hospital, but you were dead on arrival. It is of course 1987 now, in real time, and since 1966 to this time you've been under a charade by others, since you had that sensation of your roots being pulled out, the drama has been being played out, twenty-one years to be exact. Here, life gets boring, come with me I'll show you. Actually, they've perfected the drama, called "Dead Roots Drama" named after you, they even built a new underground stage here for you, follow me, I'll show you, even introduce you to the actors if indeed I can."

(Narrator; Doctor Sharp led them to a back room, out and into a big auditorium, through underground tunnels, Mr. Hem still thought he was in a dream.

"Look thorough this peep hole," He told Mr. Hem, asking, "Who do you see?"

Sure enough he saw the judge, the priest, his employer and Mr. Headman, taking off their cloths as if they were costumes, and they all looked so ugly, with tails and long ears, and one with a pig's face, another with an elephant trunk.

"These are a few of the demigods of hell," Doctor Sharp said. They will be angry with me for bringing you here, but the game has outlasted everyone else's, some twenty-one years, they actually built a town like Stillwater, and they kept you talking to them, and I was to be the unseen psychologist, until they found out I knew you, and sent me to a different section of this underworld, and I bumped into you. They numbed you now and then, like you said, roots from the other end, dead roots, and freezing them."

"C.H., was still alive, when you asked to see him, so we could not allow this, and Diane Horn, was still alive so they could not allow you to see her either, actually both are still alive today, that is why they were unavailable, and only or out of town, or occupied, or engaged, but their voices were dubbed, over their phone, and when you called, it was Miss Harriet Faulkner who did the transfer of the pretend phone call, with a little help of the Henchman."

"Who's the Henchman, and who's Faulkner?"

"Nobodies to speak of, just bored demon, like me, and don't mention the Henchman, too loud, lest you be heard and sent to his dock on the pier for whatever duties he requires. You see hell has its hierocracy, believe it or not. These were the demons pulling at your so called roots, to have you for their drama, actually before you died, with anticipation you would die; they were strangers among strangers, like I was, but as you can see they have become demonic friends."

"So you pulled against my roots?" asked Mr. Hem.

"Unknowing it was you of course, yes I did."

"What were they going to have me doing next?" asked Hem.

"Kill Mr. Headman."

"Well, how could I if he's already dead?"

"That's the jest of it all, you can't, but you were still in your other mind set, and that was the whole of the game, to see how you reacted, as they acted. The meeting they were having at the newspaper was about you. Think about it, the only time you went into Saint Paul was once, and in that instance, it was a dream, yet what you purchased they somehow created for you when you woke up from your numbed intrusion, which is called in the living and physical world; hypnotism. "

"Did they have a name for the drama?" said Mr. Hem.

"Most certainly 'Dead Roots Drama."' Said Mr. Shape.

"Ernest," said Richard Sharpe, "we might just get along better if we go by first names, tell me how it was, you know, tell me the story how it all went from your perspective, your life in a nutshell, we got lots of time here you know.

"Well... (a hesitation) I feel like I've already told my story, but I'll start again:

"I had an impulse, when I was nineteen-years old, to become the editor and publisher of a small town weekly newspaper in Stillwater, Minnesota, it turned out to be a little more complex than I had expected. I think inside of most men they think they can be a singer, own a restaurant, or be a small town editor, and I was no different..."

Chapter Six

(The Appearance of the Henchman)

The Henchman of Hell, Agaliarept

The instant the Henchman of Hell appeared, the whole "Psycho Drama Section" seemed to stand still. The clamour of tongues, the laughter and noise of the crowd were for that moment arrested, and every man, woman, beast, creature, actor, devil, demon, who stood on the stage, couched, lay, stood at attention and faced the imperial Henchman, the general of several legions of hell.

Ernest Hem, of course murmured, "Are we all in trouble?"

The henchman threw a glance at Ernest and without hesitation went straight over and stood before the demonic actor Scriber, who was really Zimmer.

"Hold out your hand," said Agaliarept, in a commanding voice.

The Henchman looked at the hand with a knitted brow, continued by saying, "I see you have used vanity to its optimum, and brought the worst out of our new comrade, although you've been entertained for over twenty-years in the process, which is a prize in itself. You have mastered the art of deception. Tell me how you did it, and I will consider you for a higher position?"

"In the following manner sir, said Zimmer: the treatment technique I used was a in altering his new environment, to function more fully in ours, by limiting him to a smaller town, like Stillwater, and thus, not having to produce big city skyways.

"This technique required of course one needed to apply it on in everyday life, as he knew it to be, the methods and rationales were described precisely to our actors, as need to be, so we could get the right reaction from Mr. Hem.

"I had learned myself; techniques are based largely on principles of learning spherically, and used their own styles, such as operant conditioning, and respondent conditioning, things they responded to in the physical sphere.

"There was a strong emphasis on scientific demonstration, a particular technique was reasonable for a particular behaviour change. Such as, taking his dreams, wishes, desires, and fears, working them in his dreams, and then in reality, securing them for him. We gave him what he wanted, and that was a secure job, money, fame above all, recognition. And then we could pull out all the other deadly sins, like laziness, and overeating, lust, they were already there, he just didn't see them, they were attached genetically almost to his general make up, he had moulded them into his psyche.

"This was sir, as you know, a long, very long ordeal for all involved, and as its leader, or director of this department, I put strong emphasis on accountably with my staff, for everyone involved, even the old folks who sat along on the benches and smiled at Mr. Hem as he'd walk by. You see, once everyone was in rhythm with this program, everyone involved in this behaviour modification program, we lived, or got to live almost on the same vibration lines he did. That is what I wanted for my staff. Like a person who has a second language, moves out of his country to that country where he had to live for long period of time, thus, he things in that countries language after a while and forgets his."

"Very well done, Zimmer," remarked the Henchman.

"Yes," emphatically, remarked Zimmer.

"Then leave here at once never to return, go from here while victory is fresh in your heart, you are promoted to the personal level of emissary in my legions, which is equal to a sub commander.

Stiffly but sarcastically, the henchman moved away.

"I say," he then said to Mr. Hem, "you're going to like the underworld with no stars, I can tell that," then shouted "the drama is over, silence is ribald!" And it was as before, with all the vulgar sounds of hell.

"Amen," said Zimmer.

"It all seems so impossible that such a long performance could have remained hidden under false faces," said Ernest, to his psychologist friend, Richard (Narrator: who was really never a psychologist, he never got the chance to be, like Ernest never got the chance to be a novelist-not really, but in the pits of hell, many things can be achieved during the meantime).

Said Richard Shape, "It was done by the gods, all us damned gods down here, we all knew your high level of vanity, and it was stronger than your faith, as was your self-interest."

Ernest looked about, "Why it's going to be a new order of things for me I see, a new beginning, the beginning of a new order of things between one and all I suppose. I see things do change in hell, no more secrets, yet I almost regret I found out.

Suddenly a stink of air seeped into the arena, and into the hallways, and tunnels, and Ernest was swept away, like a hawk in flight, wind depressing his face, aging as a burning candle, through its winding labyrinth of tunnels and caves, and chambers, and to the docks of Hades, the pier, to meet his masters, officially.

Ernest Hem on his way through

The labyrinth of Hell...

The Characters

Main Character: Mr. Ernest Hem
(Writer, novelist, Newspaper man)
Doctor Headman
Diane Horn
(St. Paul, Teacher)
C.E., writer
The Henchman
(Agaliarept)
Mr. Richard Shape
(Psychologist)
Mr. Denny Scriber
((Owner of the weekly periodical)
(Other name, Zimmer))
Greg Hamilton
(Literary agent)
Mr. Gene Weatherbee
(Committee member, renter)
Mr. Magnusson
(High school Teacher)
Father Jose
Judge Albemarle

Note on making of the story: written the night of 4-22 into the hours of the 23rd of April, 2009 (2:21 p.m.). Chapter 6, written in the afternoon on my patio roof, 23rd of April; written by Dennis L. Siluk, in Lima, Peru. The Vanity of Ernest Hem (or, the Dead Roots Drama) Copyright © 4-2009, By Dennis L. Siluk (7047)