Read Online A Handicap of the Devil? by Allen Lyne - Free Book Online Page B

been outside their house twice since they were six weeks old, and that was to go to the vet.
    The bunnies were in a strangely shaped room with no glass in the windows. The ceiling was thatched with what looked like straw or hay. Even in her fear and uncertainty, Thumper wondered if she could eat it.
    The man, who was standing in the centre of the room, was trying to be kind. “It's alright, my little friends, you don't have to worry."
    For the first time the rabbits could understand what someone said to them. Apart from picking phrases like ‘dinner', ‘good girls', ‘outside’ and their names—phrases they heard over and over, they had been unable to work out what anyone was saying to them. They usually judged what was being said by the tone of voice in which it was delivered. They both wondered how this newfound ability had come to them.
    Bugs was hiding her face behind Thumper, burrowing deep into her fur in fright.
    Thumper wasn't quite so frightened. She looked curiously at the man who had spoken and who had beckoned to them in the bright light in the backyard. The man was average height and build. He wore a neat blue suit with a grey tie. His hair was cut short and he had the look of having just stepped out of the barbershop. His shoes were highly polished. He was clicking his fingers and trying to get the rabbits to come to him. Fat chance!
    A larger man wearing a caftan, beads and sandals—sporting waist length hair and a beard—swept into the room. “Hey, hey, so here you are little dudes.” He sat on the floor and indicated for St. Peter to sit too. God raised his eyebrows as Peter sat in a chair—after dusting it.
    "Hey, come over here and talk to us. No one's going to hurt you. It's cool."
    Bugs and Thumper thought the temperature was fine. They had never trusted anyone before, but a lovely feeling of peace and serenity emanated from this Being. The beautiful music started again as the bunnies moved slowly and cautiously over and sat at God's feet. They both sniffed them as a matter of course.
    God laughed. “Hey, that really tickles. Peter, make a note that we need a couple of rabbits as house pets."
    Peter made no such note. He didn't want pets of any sort messing up his environment. “If you two girls ... you know ... need to go ... you tell me, and I'll let you out, okay. Just don't do your business in here."
    God sighed. “One of these days, you're going to lighten up, Peter. Let's get down to it.” He looked down at the bunnies at his feet. “I need your help, dig."
    "You need our help to dig?” Thumper brightened. This was something she and Bugs knew all about.
    Bugs looked around, but the floor was carpeted. “Where can we dig?"
    Peter chuckled, “Um, God's being a little unclear. When he says ‘dig’ he doesn't mean ‘dig’ in the sense that you understand it."
    Bugs was an extremely puzzled rabbit. “We dig with our paws.... How else can you dig?"
    God held up his hand to stop the chatter. “When I say ‘dig', I mean ‘understand'. Understand?"
    "Why don't you say ‘understand'?” Bugs was an arch-pragmatist in a species that was already very pragmatic.
    "What do you say when you want to dig a burrow?” Thumper was not being smart. She genuinely wanted to know. “That you understand a burrow?"
    Now God was confused.
    St. Peter sorted it out. “Let's forget God ever mentioned the word ‘dig'. It's an expression some people use for ‘understand'?"
    The bunnies both nodded, but they didn't really dig ... understand.
    God relaxed, crossed his legs in a yoga pose and looked thoughtful. “Jonathan Goodfellow is your ... err ... person, isn't he?"
    "He's our staff member.” Bugs corrected God in her haughty tone. She was more at ease now that these two strange people had shown no sign of hostility.
    Thumper was more relaxed too. “His job is to get us the right dinner and to keep our water bowl full of fresh water.... Oh, and he also chases cats back over the fence when they