DIALOGUE WITH THE DEVIL E-Book

Yves Patak

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Deutsch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

"For those of you who want to believe there's a devil, this book will lovingly help you discover who the real devil is." Neale Donald Walsch - Author of Conversations with God A physician facing midlife-crisis unexpectedly finds himself drawn into a conversation with the 'Devil', who willy-nilly compels him toward enlightenment - only to reveal a truth nobody ever expected. An invigorating and diabolically straightforward book that offers answers to man's most profound questions. No reader who loved the Conversations with God series should miss this humorous yet in-depth expansion!

Leseprobe

Yves Patak

DIALOGUE WITH THE DEVIL

Enlightenment for the Unwilling

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG80331 München

Dialogue with the Devil

Dialogue with the Devil

Enlightenment for the Unwilling

Yves Patak

Copyright © 2010 by Yves E. Patak

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be

reproduced in any form whatsoever, without permission

in writing from the publisher, except for brief passages

for use in articles or reviews.

English translation of GESPRÄCHE MIT LUZI

Original edition in German language.

First published by Engelsdorfer Verlag, Leipzig, 2008

© 2009 by Yves E. Patak

For Tiziana

Acknowledgments

My sincere thanks to Tiziana Della Tommasa and Hansruedi Ramsauer, who contributed essential ideas to this “otherworldly dialogue.” Very fond thanks go to my trusted advisor and literary agent Karin Vial, who believed in this book, and last but not least to my publisher Bob Friedman. Without their help it would never have made it into your hands.

Introduction

From the practical point of view, my life was perfect. I was a successful and popular physician, born into a wealthy family. I had an attractive, intelligent wife and three charming children.

Still, over the years a bitter suspicion had crept into my life, and eventually I came to the frustrating conclusion that I probably belonged to the species of the chronically discontented. While other people could not contain their enthusiasm about me and my life, all I could muster was a weary smile, while thinking to myself: “So—that’s all, folks?”

All my life I had been searching for ways to gain more—experience, success, enjoyment—and I had found them. But now I had reached a point where nothing could really stimulate me any longer. I had everything one could aspire to with reasonable ambition, everything one could achieve with hard work. Life somehow had turned tepid and trite.

So I lived my life with this dark cloud above my head—up to that unforgettable day, which would dramatically change my life forever.

The conversation came very unexpectedly. On August 21, 2008, an unusually cold and rainy summer day, I had said goodbye to my last patient around 6 p.m. I scribbled a few notes in my files, shut down the laptop on my desk and closed the lid. Then, in the meditative silence of my practice I brewed myself a fragrant cup of Darjeeling tea, as I did every evening, and mentally went through the day’s events. Part of the routine after the tea was to make the rounds through my office before leaving—checking that all the windows were closed, the lab machinery shut down, and the lights switched off. For a reason that I couldn’t quite explain I looked into my consultation room one more time—and stopped dead in my tracks. The laptop on my desk had been flipped open and booted up again! Bewildered, I approached the electronic tyrant. Humming softly it stood on the desk as if awaiting me. I felt my heart beating a little harder. Of course I couldn’t rule out the possibility that I had pushed the “reboot” button instead of the “power down” key—but how the hell had the lid flipped itself open? Frowning, I approached this patiently purring object . . . then it happened—the event that would sound the bell for a new chapter in my life. Eyes wide open, I stared at the screen. A bombastic 36-point font said:

IT’S MY TURN TO SPEAK!

My back broke into gooseflesh that spread over my arms until all the hair stood erect. My legs turned to jelly. A strange atmosphere permeated the room, like some foreboding presence. With a queasy feeling I sat down at my word processor and stared at these words. Who the devil would write such a thing? And how? The sense of imminent disaster turned into a haunting premonition when I realized that the Internet connection was disengaged. Spellbound, I was staring at a flickering Word file, which meant that nobody was pulling off a stupid joke via the World Wide Web—but that someone had been sitting at my laptop! But when? While I was making the rounds through the seven rooms of my practice? I probably hadn’t left my consultation room for more than three minutes. Feverishly, I tried to imagine the absurd scenario of a lightning fast burglar with a twisted sense of humor dashing to my computer just to leave me a note—an ominous line that didn’t mean much more to me than the Heisenberg uncertainty principle or a Japanese instruction leaflet.

I looked around. Everything seemed to be in its place. No signs of burglary, no evidence of vandalism, no stolen drugs or prescription pads. A spell of superstition made me pull out the wireless card that connected my laptop to the Internet. I wanted to be 200 percent certain that no hacker could have caused this inexplicable situation, some wacky PC pro who from a distance was taking me for a ride. Then I pushed the power-down button once more. I waited for the screen to turn dark. That’s when things really became spooky. The screen had turned dark all right, but the computer kept humming—and suddenly those eerie words—IT’S MY TURN TO SPEAK!—were written in red letters on a black background. My apprehension changed to terror. What the hell had gotten into my computer?

I pressed the delete key and waited. The words disappeared at once. A few seconds later new ones appeared in crimson letters:

DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW?

Bewildered, I stared at the blood-red line that seemed to float above the dark screen. As a psychologically trained physician, I knew at once that the best explanation for this uncanny occurrence was that I had just lost my mind. I tried to imagine a life where I’d have to swallow a red pill in the morning, a green one for lunch, and a yellow one at night just to keep from hearing voices or seeing alien texts on my computer screen.

The screen flickered, and three new lines popped up:

YOU’RE NOT PARANOID. I JUST WANT TO CHAT WITH YOU FOR A WHILE. BUT IF YOU’RE NOT WILLING—THERE ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH SOULS WHO’D LOVE TO HEAR FROM ME.

I had gone crazy! With this thought, a nauseating hodgepodge of emotions descended upon me. Fear, incredulity, tension . . . and, surprisingly, a considerable share of curiosity. If I had gone bonkers or someone had slipped some LSD into my tea, why shouldn’t I just go for it, enjoy the ride? Most probably I’d either wake up screaming in my bed, or someone would lead me away drooling in a tightly secured straight jacket. All right, I said to myself, let’s see where this is going! With this thought I put my hands on the keyboard and typed with clammy fingers:

Who are you?

Once more, a soft humming went through the computer. The screen flickered, and with a sudden chill in my heart I read:

SATAN!

1.

I’ve never been a cold-blooded person—a trait that probably would have helped in such a situation—but I tried to keep a level head as best I could. The wireless card lay next to the computer. As a consequence, it was impossible for some unwelcome invader, some seedy “chatter” to have gotten in touch with me via the Internet. I wondered if there were viruses that could smuggle this kind of program into one’s computer like a cuckoo’s egg, a program that would activate itself in due time. But that still wouldn’t explain the flipped open laptop, with the power on. Since in my nervousness I couldn’t think of anything more intelligent, I wrote with an anxious heart and unimaginative mind:

Prove it! If you’re Satan, you can surely see what kind of clothes I’m wearing!

The answer came without hesitation.

YOU’RE WEARING A PEACH-COLORED SHIRT, FADED BLUE JEANS, AND A RATHER UGLY SCUBA SWATCH THAT RUNS FOUR MINUTES LATE. YOU’VE GOT STUBBLES ON YOUR CHIN AND BAGS UNDER YOUR EYES. YOUR LEFT ELBOW ITCHES.

With my mouth wide open and a vacant expression I scratched my left elbow, then I looked up and down at myself. He was right in every detail. I wondered if a voyeur with field glasses had taken a position in the neighboring house, but the blinds were rolled down. No one could possibly see me. My conscious mind desperately tried to take evasive action against the unthinkable. My pulse was racing. There was a foul taste of wet cotton in my mouth. With tremulous fingers I typed:

Whoever you are, if I find that you’re spying on me, you’re asking for trouble with me and with the police. I advise you to quit this game or you’ll soon be sorry!

DO YOU NEED MORE PROOF? ASK ME ANYTHING—I KNOW ALL THE ANSWERS!

All right: what were the names of Emperor Nero’s first and second wife?

OCTAVIA AND POPPAEA SABINA.

Right, you’ve got a good grasp on history. What’s Thyreotropin?

A GLYCOPROTEID OF THE HYPOPHYSIS THAT REGULATES THE IODIDE INTAKE OF THE THYROID GLAND AND STIMULATES THE RELEASE OF THYROID HORMONES.

I see, you must be a physician. Probably one who knows me. Which doesn’t mean you know everything. What’s the difference between red heat and white heat?

READ HEAT LIES BETWEEN 700 AND 900 DEGREES CELSIUS, WHITE HEAT IS OVER 1300 DEGREES HOT. THE COLOR OF THE BLAZE CAN BE USED TO DETERMINE THE TEMPERATURE.

What is Stannum?

THE LATIN NAME FOR TIN.

What an educated fellow! What’s my favorite drink?

MOJITO, WITH LOADS OF LIME AND VERY LITTLE SUGAR.

I’m really impressed. What kind of unhealthy habit did I have as a child?

YOU USED TO NIBBLE THE HEADS OF BURNT MATCHES—A QUESTIONABLE HABIT, FROM THE CULINARY POINT OF VIEW.

I see. You’re someone who knows me damned well. Presumably somebody who saw me today, in my practice, which explains why you know about my clothes. I have no idea how you got into my office and at my laptop or how you’re answering my questions right now, but maybe this is all a prank, and yes, perhaps my assistant left the back door open before she went home. I am far from convinced. Can you see into my soul?

OF COURSE.

What kind of crazy picture is my frantic mind conjuring up right now?

YOU’RE VISUALIZING A NEON-GREEN WHALE WITH BRIGHT RED BALLERINA SHOES AND GOLD TEETH, WHILE YOU’RE SIMULTANEOUSLY THINKING THAT YOU MUST HAVE GONE COMPLETELY MAD.

Touché. That’s stupefying! What’s the thing I’m mostly concerned about these days? Which sore subject haunts my dreams?

YOU’VE LOST THE MEANING OF LIFE. YOU’RE A SUCCESSFUL PHYSICIAN, BORN INTO A WEALTHY FAMILY. YOU’VE GOT AN ATTRACTIVE, INTELLIGENT WIFE AND THREE CHARMING CHILDREN. BUT NOW YOU HAVE REACHED A POINT WHERE NOTHING CAN REALLY STIMULATE YOU ANY LONGER. YOUR LIFE HAS TURNED TEPID AND TRITE.

My jaw went slack. Powerless, I fell against the backrest of my office chair. This guy could see directly into my heart! I tried to control my mounting panic by changing subjects.

How did you link up with my computer? I’ve pulled the wireless card! Theoretically a connection should be impossible.

I AM EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE . . .

Very amusing. Come on, tell me.

I AM ALSO IN YOUR HEAD. IF YOU PREFER WE CAN HAVE A CHAT IN THERE.

For God’s sake no! Keep your fingers off my head and stay in my computer! At least I can chuck that one out of the window if necessary.

THEN MY WORDS SHALL APPEAR BEFORE YOUR WINDOW IN BLAZING LETTERS . . . OR IN YOUR BEDROOM MIRROR . . . OR IN YOUR DREAMS.

Am I dreaming right now? Is this all a delusion, or a spell of schizophrenia, or are you nothing but a goddamned hacker?

YOU ARE USING THE MAKER’S NAME IN AN IRREVERENT MANNER. ARE YOU NOT A GOD-FEARING PERSON? OF COURSE I KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT QUESTION TOO—OTHERWISE I WOULDN’T HAVE CONTACTED YOU.

What the hell do you want from me???

AH, THAT’S THE WAY I LIKE IT! WELL, HERE IS THE SITUATION: ALTHOUGH I HAVE BEEN AROUND FOR ALMOST AS LONG AS YOUR CREATOR, EVEN AFTER TWO THOUSAND YEARS OF CHRISTENDOM PEOPLE GET ME WRONG, MISINTERPRET AND DEMONIZE ME ON A GLOBAL SCALE. SOME YEARS AGO A BOOK NAMED CONVERSATIONS WITH GOD CREATED A SENSATION. ALL OF A SUDDEN, MILLIONS OF PREVIOUSLY NON-RELIGIOUS PEOPLE STARTED TO BELIEVE IN A DIVINE POWER—WHILE SINCE THE DARK AGES FEWER AND FEWER PEOPLE BELIEVED IN ME! I AM AT RISK OF DROWNING IN A SEA OF OBLIVION, TO FADE INTO THE REALM OF MYTHS AND LEGENDS. THOSE WHO CALL ON ME ALWAYS WANT ONE THING: A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL. AND INVARIABLY, FROM TIME IMMEMORIAL, IT IS ABOUT POWER, MONEY, ABUSIVE SPELLS OF LOVE, SEX, ETERNAL YOUTH, AND HEALTH. BUT NOBODY EVER UNDERSTOOD ME. ACTUALLY, NOBODY EVEN TRIES TO UNDERSTAND ME. NOBODY COMPREHENDS MY REAL ROLE ON THIS PLANET. THAT’S WHY I WANT TO REACH OUT TO HUMANITY THROUGH YOU. TOGETHER WE SHALL WRITE A NEW BOOK!

A new book? What kind of book?

DIALOGUE WITH THE DEVIL!

You’re kidding me, right?

NOT IN THE SLIGHTEST. I AM DIABOLICALLY SERIOUS. AND BE AWARE THAT NOBODY SHOULD DENY THE DEVIL A WISH.