Will You Wait?
by Alfred Bester
They keep writing those antiquated stories about bargains with the Devil. You know . . . sulphur, spells and pentagrams; tricks, snares and delusions. They donвt know what theyвre talking about. Twentieth century diabolism is slick and streamlined, like jukeboxes and automatic elevators and television and all the other modern efficiencies that leave you helpless and infuriated.
A year ago I got fired from an agency job for the third time in ten months. I had to face the fact that I was a failure. I was also dead broke. I decided to sell my soul to the Devil, but the problem was how to find him. I went down to the main reference room of the library and read everything on demonology and devillore. Like I said, it was all just talk. Anyway, if I could have afforded the expensive ingredients which they claimed could raise the Devil, I wouldnвt have had to deal with him in the first place.
I was stumped, so I did the obvious thing; I called Celebrity Service. A delicate young man answered.
I asked, гCan you tell me where the Devil is?д
гAre you a subscriber to Celebrity Service?д
C "No." .
гThen I can give you no information.д
гI can afford to pay a small fee for one item.д
гYou wish limited service?д
гYes.д
гVVho is the celebrity, please?д
гThe Devil.д
"Who?"
гThe Devil. . . Satan, Lucifer, Scratch, Old Nick . . . The Devil.д
гOne moment, please.д In five minutes he was back, extremely annoyed. гVeddy soddy. The Devil is no longer a celebrity.д
He hung up. I did the sensible thing and looked through the telephone directory. On a page decorated with ads for Sardiвs Restaurant I found Satan, Shaitan, Carnage & Bael, 477 Madison Avenue, Judson 3-1900. I called them. A bright young woman answered.
гSSC&B. Good morning.д
гMay I speak to Mr. Satan, please?д
гThe lines are busy. V/ill you wait?д
I waited and lost my dime. I wrangled with the operator and lost another dime but got the promise of a refund in postage stamps. I called Satan, Shaitan, Carnage & Bae again.
гSSC&B. Good morning.д
гMay I speak to Mr. Satan? And please donвt leave me hanging on the phone. Iвm calling from aчд
The switchboard cut me off and buzzed. I waited. The coin-box gave a warning click. At last a line opened.
гMiss Hoganвs office.д
гMay I speak to Mr. Satan?д
гWhoвs calling?д
гHe doesnвt know me. Itвs a personal matter.д
гIвm sorry. Mr. Satan is no longer with our organization.д
гCan you tell me where I can find him?д
There was muffled discussion in broad Brooklyn and then Miss Hogan spoke in crisp Secretary: гMr. Satan is now with Be‘lzebub, Belial, Devil & Orgy.д
I looked them up in the phone directory. 383 Madison Avenue, Plaza 6-19oo. I dialed. The phone rang once and then choked. A metallic voice spoke in sing-song: гThe number you are dialing is not a working number. Kindly consult your directory for the correct number. This is a recorded message.д I consulted my directory. It said Plaza 6-1900. I dialed again and got the same recorded message.
I finally broke through to a live operator who was persuaded to give me the new number of Be‘lzebub, Belial, Devil & Orgy. I called them. A bright young woman answered.
гB.B.D.O. Good morning.д
гMay I speak to Mr. Satan, please?д
гV/ho?д
гMr. Satan.д
гIвm sorry. There is no su‘h person with our organization.д
гThen give me Be‘lzebub or the Devil.д
гOne moment, please.д
I waited. Every half minute she opened my wire long enough to gasp: гStill ringing the Dcvчд and then cut off before I had a chance to answer. At last a bright young woman spoke. гMr. Devilвs office.д
гMay I speak to him?д
гV/hoвs calling?д
I gave her my name.
гHeвs on another line. V/ill you wait?д
I waited. I was fortified with a dwindling reserve of nickels and dimes. After twenty minutes, the bright young woman spoke again: гHeвs just gone into an emergency meeting. Can he call you back?д
гNo. Iвll try again.д
Nine days later I finally got him.
гYes, sir? V/hat can I do for you?д
