Free Left Behind by Dave Freer

Left Behind
    by Dave Freer
    I was writing exams with the Devil. There was a special rightness about this because exams have always been my worst form of Hell-on-Earth. My mind is usually my friend. My only friend, to be honest, which was not something I'd usually spent much time being. In examination halls it deserted me. All I had there was Grandma. She'd tan my tail end if I did less than perfectly. And although I'd only lived with her for six months -- between when Pa had taken the rope necktie and the old woman got out of jail -- it had had a marked effect on me. On my hide too. I'd been nine years old, and never done a stroke of schoolwork before. I did learn then, by the strokes. I mean, Pa had beaten me. Usually when he was drunk, sometimes just because he was irritable. But hers had been a-laid on with direction, and I'd followed it, even after Social Services had taken me into care after she collapsed in the street. It was appropriate that I was writing an exam on fishing, because that was all else I'd learned from her. She died a few months later, so she never had a chance to see what direction those hidings had taken me.
     

    It struck me as a little odd that I was ten years old. I could somehow remember finishing my LLB, summa cum laude , and many, many exams on the way to there and becoming a beefy man. But this was the same skinny underfed, brat I'd been then. A scrawny rat with arms like matchsticks and legs to match.
     

    The Devil leaned over me. He smiled. His teeth were sharp. "I'll have to accompany you to the toilets. My assistants will make sure there is no... cheating." There was naked fear on the faces of other examinees. To my surprise, I saw that the one sitting next to me was Grandma, but then I was shepherded away by the Devil. Away from the endless rows of desks watched by clocks and devils, to a vast stench-place of fetid pools of sewage spun with flies and writhing with maggots. And screaming. Distant but agonised. The Devil looked at my expression and laughed. "This is Hell, yes. Did you expect neat stalls? Although there are some of those somewhere, complete with sodomy and syringes. Hell is infinite and tailored."
     

    Yes, I realized, this was Hell. And yet...this more traditional version of the dung pits was, to me, preferable to an eternity in the one I had come from.
     

    "I assume you want to make me an offer. If you are going to pass that exam you'll need my help."
     

    Help from the Devil in Hell? "There is always a price, isn't there?" I asked, knowing the answer.
     

    "Oh yes. But you would know that. There was always a price for your helping murderers, thieves and rapists, wasn't there? Your profession and mine are remarkably alike. We work for a reward."
     

    "They had a right to fair representation."
     

    He chuckled. "Indeed. But what did that have to do with it?"
     

    "Very little, I suppose."
     

    The reply displeased him. I always noticed tiny things about people's expressions, and despite the horns and red skin I could read him too. It had been useful in misleading jurors, and in assessing judges. I wondered about the Devil's motive... but then he was the father of lies, by repute. "I thought you were just doing your job. Doing your best for your client," he said, supplying the standard answers.
     

    I remembered fishing on the rocks with Grandma. Food was scarce and tackle cost money. But she always caught fish. Always let the fish run a little. See how strong he is before you try to turn him. You break him off if you try too hard, too soon. A little pressure, that's what it needs . The old woman had taught me that, and I'd never forgotten it. "For a fee, yes." I said.
     

    The fish tested the line a little more. "Pro Bono?"
     

    "Reputation. And other things. Not all fees are paid in cash."
     

    "Ah. This one, of course, can't be. You can't ever pass the examination -- its pass mark is very high -- without my help. And without a pass... you will sit again. And