The Ownership Society-Part 2-New Fictional Series

Part 2

“I know I’m supposed to care for these people, Pastor Nick, it’s just…I just don’t.” The calloused hands spread before the pastor in supplication. “I mean, why is it my fault if they have kids they can’t afford? Why is it my fault if they make stupid decisions and life kicks ‘em in the a—uh, rear? Sorry.”

Pastor Nick nodded, attempting to mask a serenity he saw in a painting of the Buddha. He found himself more and more frequently heading to that place of quiet meditation, recalling how the painting surprised him, hung in a far corner of a conference room. Quiet. Calm. Pastor Nick wondered how many meetings it had presided over from its perch next to the coat closet, its expressionless eyes, down-turned but awake and alert, its passive countenance following each individual around the room. Watching. Aware. Nonjudgmental. One hand held up as if to stop someone from speaking while the other encouraged a more thoughtful, engaging interaction.

Right now Pastor Nick was desperately trying to be the Buddha, letting long silences fill the room like so much cotton candy, sweet and ethereal, waiting for the long journey of the soul across from him to finally come to an end.

His companion continued. “I know the Bible says “I’m your brother’s keeper and all”, but wasn’t that God saying that? I mean, I have my own bills to pay. We don’t have a lot of money, either. We just plan and save and why the heck should I take it in the shorts just because of someone else’s stupidity? Look, I’m not saying to cancel this…soup kitchen thing or whatever it is. All I’m saying is to move it up an hour, so I can have a nice event with my family in the church hall. I’ve been a member here my entire life, and this is our 30th wedding anniversary, and I don’t think that this is too much to ask.”

Pastor Nick breathed in deeply, smelling the raw, burnt sugar smell he always associated with these uncomfortable pauses, opening his mouth to taste the heavy, candied air that he swore filled the room in the midst of someone baring their soul to him.

The man broke the silence. “And I don’t care about these people. I’m sorry, but that’s they way it is. I don’t see why I should feel sorry for them – they’re screw ups, plain and simple.” He pointed his finger in the air, missing Pastor Nick’s chest by six inches. Pastor Nick paused a second, channeling the Buddha, feeling the calmness descend from the top of his head down his spine, making his feet heavy on the worn, coffee-stained carpet.

“Bob, are you a sinner?” Pastor Nick let the words lie still on the worn, oak desk separating himself from the large, older man with the wispy, grey hair whose tirade he had just absorbed.

“What?” Bob asked absentmindedly, not ready for a question but a lecture.

“Are you a sinner?” Pastor Nick looked up at the man this time, meeting his eyes with a compassionate stare.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we’re all sinners, right?” Bob’s voice fumbled, attempting to recall a Sunday school lesson he had learned a generation ago.

“What’s a sin?” Pastor Nick asked, his voice modulated with a careful evenness.

“Well…it’s…I mean, you do something bad.” Pastor Nick saw Bob’s cheeks flush slightly, and he leaned back, attempting to alleviate the man’s embarrassment for being put on the spot.

“Lying’s a sin, right?” Pastor Nick offered, using a tried-and-true analogy Lutheran pastors had used since the time of Martin Luther himself. Bob picked up on it right away.

“Oh, yeah, I know, and lying is supposed to be the same thing as killing someone, right? And so somehow that means that I’m just as bad as those people are and that’ll just shut me up? But Pastor Nick, I’m not a bad man, I’m not a killer, and these folks…they just need to deal with the consequences of their actions is all I’m saying.” Bob’s hands started to tremble slightly, his voice a quivering roar as Pastor Nick glanced a touching blow at the exposed nerve of his soul.

“I think everyone feels the consequences of their actions.” Pastor Nick offered and then immediately wished he could take it back.

“Oh, no, not these folks.” Bob’s agitation was palpable. “No, not when they have welfare, and, and, food stamps, and Medicaid. They’re living in hog heaven off of my tax dollars. It isn’t fair!” Bob bellowed as his hand struck the desk, making an unexpected slapping noise.

For a few moments, the men just looked at each other, both equally surprised by the outburst of emotion that clung to the corners of the room.

“What’s really going on, Bob?” Pastor Nick leaned forward, intently studying the man’s face.

“Nothin.” Bob muttered.

“Why are you here?” Pastor Nick probed.

“I…I don’t know.” Bob gave up, his body slowing deflating.

“Whatever you’re going through, you know you can tell me about it.” Pastor Nick attempted to make eye contact with Bob, who just looked down, his body encased in his own embarrassment.

“I should go.” Bob stood up, turning toward the door. Pastor Nick stood up with him.

“Nothing about this life is easy.” Pastor Nick said, walking Bob toward the door. “Sometimes I think God makes it that way, and honestly, sometimes that really pisses me off.” Bob swung his head around, looking at Pastor Nick’s mischievous grin. They both chuckled slightly, relieved.

Bob turned around before leaving and shook Pastor Nick’s hand. “You’re a good man, pastor.” Nick put his hand on Bob’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, too.” He said.

It wasn’t until he closed the door behind Bob that Pastor Nick felt the throbbing in his temples. He made his way over to the desk, hands clasped to both sides of his head, fingertips feeling the soft, short blonde hair covering the dense pounding inside his skull. Sliding into his worn, fabric-covered office chair, he pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and absentmindedly scanned his address book. The rhythm of the mechanical blips as he pressed the arrow keys soothed his nerves. He passed by a name, thought about it, and scrolled back. He stared at the entry for longer than he realized. Finally, getting his nerve up, an unfamiliar panic tightening his stomach muscles, he pressed the send key.

“Hi, Jeff? It’s Nicholas. Yeah, Pastor Nick. Yep. Yeah, no, just a regular day.” He tried to keep up the friendly banter, his mouth becoming slightly dry the longer he talked. “So, what’s up with you? ‘Cuz I was wondering, if you’re not busy, maybe…maybe we could see a movie or something?”

…to be continued.