***
The question was asked a few hours later while Piper was sitting next to Nick and across from Chase and Flypaper at an outside picnic table at the Lionshead restaurant, which was mid-way up the mountain off the Chute ski run. Chase probably had waited for the perfect moment to ask the question, which was when Cherie wasn’t by his side. She had gone into the restaurant to use the ladies’ room.
“So, what’s with the Bible thumping? Cherie liked whatever you said to her about God.”
“Really, that’s excellent!” Nick responded.
“No, not excellent,” Chase added, in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. “I hardly want a Bible-thumping wife or Bible-thumping kids. C’mon guys. What are you doing to me? I’m already taking a risk with her Baptist parents.”
“Yeah, I know her mom. She’s on the advisory board of the Collins Foster Home. Nice lady,” Piper said.
“I know her too. You’re marrying into a good family Chase. So, what’s your problem with the Bible?” Nick asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he answered sarcastically. “Maybe just the fact it’s over 2,000 years old and is way outdated. It’s not at all relevant today.”
Chase’s nostrils were flared. The topic was obviously one that ignited his anger. Given the importance of the topic, however, she persisted. “Someone said you don’t believe in God. Is that true?”
“God?” Chase said in a low tone while looking at the door of the Lionshead, perhaps checking to see if Cherie was on her way back to the table. “God is a cliché. Just a cliché to make us feel good. The gods have been making us feel good for centuries. Odin, Vishnu, Mishra, Zeus, Thor…who am I missing?”
“Jesus. You’re missing Jesus,” Piper answered.
“Oh, yeah, and I also missed Allah, the Muslim God. Muslims, Christians, and Jews all believe in one god. The same god. Right?” Chase said.
“No. Christians believe in the Holy Trinity, with the Father, the Son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Muslims believe Jesus was a prophet, while Jews believe Jesus was a false Messiah. The Christian Father called Jesus His Son. He didn’t call Him a prophet. His Son fulfilled the prophecies of those who were prophets, like Isaiah and Zechariah.”
“Well, I have to admit the Bible is good fiction,” Chase responded.
“Chase, I’m surprised you don’t believe in God,” Flypaper said as he shook his head. “That’s sad.”
“Are you religious, Juan?” Piper asked, feeling a genuine sense of surprise.
“I wouldn’t say religious, but I believe in Jesus. My family’s Catholic. They call me the Chreaster cuz I only go to church on Christmas and Easter.”
“That’s funny. Chreaster. Never heard that one before,” Chase said.
“Yeah, I should probably go more. I guess. Maybe I will, when I get old and have nothing left to live for. Right now, I’m living the dream, baby!” Flypaper chuckled.
Nick smiled. “We’re all living the dream. Look around this place, man. All you see are mountains, blankets of snow, pine trees, and blue skies.”
“So true,” Flypaper responded. “It’s beautiful here.”
Piper slowly stirred her broccoli cheese soup as she gazed over at Chase, wondering how he had become so adversarial towards God. Had something bad happened to him, causing him to turn away from God? He attacked his hamburger with the passion of a hungry homeless man, making her think he was in a rush to finish his lunch and get away from the conversation. The shadowy forms circled over him, as if waiting to pounce.
A couple of minutes passed in an uncomfortable silence before Piper mustered up the courage to say something more. Something told her she shouldn’t let it go. That little voice in the back of her mind was giving her advice again.
“So, why don’t you believe?”
“Piper, I don’t like debates with theists. I need to keep my sanity.”
“I’m not debating you, Chase. Just asking a question.”
“Well, put it this way. If there were a god, I’d still have my dad. It’s that simple. What happened to him would have never happened. And I was just ten when it did.”
“What happened?”
“He was murdered. Robbed, beaten, and shot by some dirt bag who had escaped from prison. And he was the best dad in the world. He always said that he ‘walked in the way of the Lord.’ What did the Lord do for him? To top it off, my mom married a total fool after he died.” Chase’s eyes welled up and he quickly brushed off the tears.
“Why do horrible things always happen to good people? Why not evil people?”
“Oh gosh,” Piper said. “I’m so sorry to hear about your dad. I lost my mom to cancer. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. At least I can rest assured knowing she’s in heaven.”
“How do you know that?” He stammered. “How do you know she’s in heaven?”
“Because I believe.”
Chase looked at her as he took a long sip of his soda. “Why would you believe in a god who took your mom away at an early age?”
“Because I know my mom served her purpose. And I know that one day I’ll be reunited with her after I serve my purpose.”
“Of course you’ll be reunited. Reunited in pine boxes in a grave yard,” Chase said. “Sorry to say that. The truth hurts. We’ll all be in pine boxes one day, or cremated. That’s what your god has in store for us. Some god.”
Cherie returned and took her place at the table next to Chase.
“Chase,” Nick started, “would you be willing to forgive your dad’s murderer?
“Hell no! Are you crazy?”
“Wow, tough question Nick,” Cherie said with her eyebrows raised.
“Chase,” Nick continued, “would you be willing to take a bullet for the guy who killed your dad?
“What the…” Chase mouthed profanities as he banged his hands on the table. “What the…” he blurted, yet still couldn’t complete the question. He gagged and coughed, eventually propelling the soda from the inside of his mouth onto the table top in front of him. After taking another sip of soda, he looked Nick in the eyes and sneered, “What the hell kind of an asinine question is that? Are you seriously asking me if I’d take a bullet for my dad’s murderer? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much pain I’ve suffered?” Chase shook his head as if to shake off the thought of the question.
“Honey, calm down,” Cherie said while rubbing his back. “It’s just a question.”
“Yes, I’m seriously asking you that.”
“Man, you’re out of your mind. Of course I wouldn’t take a bullet for that scumbag! I hope that he rots in hell.”
“So you believe in hell?”
“It’s an expression, Nick.”
“Well, that’s what Jesus did. He willingly accepted to be murdered on the cross for the sins of others, including the scumbags of the earth.”
Chase stared at him for a few minutes as if searching for the words to respond. “That’s what they say. They. Who are they anyway?”
A few minutes passed as everyone sat somewhat uncomfortably at the table without saying another word or answering Chase’s rhetorical question. Chase resumed his gobble fest, downing his second burger before standing and picking up his plate.
“C’mon Cherie. Let’s get back on the slopes. See you guys tonight.”
Cherie kept her eyes on the ground as she stood up slowly and gathered her plate and glass. “Thanks,” she whispered. “Your words were good, though they may have come across a little harsh. You made your point.” She looked over at Chase, who was already pulling his skis from the ski racks. “I got to go. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye Cherie,” Piper said.
Piper watched Cherie as she walked over to the ski racks. Upsetting. But even more upsetting was that nothing they said to Chase was sinking in. Maybe she and Nick should just forget about trying to change Chase’s opinions.
“Maybe convincing him is impossible,” she w
hispered. “Maybe he doesn’t have the eyes to see or the ears to hear the truth. Maybe he’s just a weed among the wheat.”
“I hope not,” Nick whispered back.
A pretty girl sat down at the table next to them and made eyes at Flypaper, yet he ignored her. Nick must have taken note of her advances as well because he nudged Flypaper and directed his eyes to the girl. Still, Flypaper ignored her. This was not the Flypaper that Piper knew. The Flypaper Piper knew would have been hitting on the girl the moment she sat down. That Flypaper would have already been making plans to spend the evening with his new girlfriend.
Who is this guy? Is he whipped over Kat? Or is he just putting on a show? That must be it. Just putting on a show.
The girl at the table was definitely Flypaper’s type, Piper surmised, as she glanced back at her. Sort of looked like Kat in a way, yet she was more petite. Flypaper refused to give her any attention as he continued to eat his lunch. Piper wondered again what had happened with Kat, whom she hadn’t seen yet that day.