LITMIR.BIZ

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so she got angry with us. She told us to bow our heads and close our eyes. Then she asked if any of us would rather be outside playing than in the house of the Lord. She asked if any of the boys would rather be outside playing baseball than studying God’s word. She told us to raise our hands if we would rather be outside, as a way of admitting our guilt and asking for forgiveness.” Mandy paused for a moment. “I guess nobody raised their hand, because she got angrier and angrier. She told us to keep our eyes closed and asked if any of us had ever burned our finger on a match or stove or anything. She told us to think about how much that hurt. Then she told us to think about what it would be like if our whole body was burning that way and what it would be like if there was no way to ever stop the burning, throughout eternity. She told us that is exactly what hell is like, and that is what would happen to us if we didn’t put God first in our lives.”

      “That sounds kind of hard-core. What did you think?”

       “Even though I was a kid,” Mandy answered deliberately, “I thought it was too much. That night in bed, I wondered if she or anyone else really knew what hell is like. I mean, for one thing, death is supposed to be a transition away from the physical world to a spiritual existence. But her description of hell seemed very physical, more like something she would do to us if she were God than anything else. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that she was simply trying to scare us, to control us through fear. She didn’t know what hell was like; how could she? And then as I grew up in the Church, I saw what seemed to me to be more and more examples of the same thing, control through fear.”

      “So do you believe in God at all? Is God dead?”

      “Oh, like the cover of Time magazine? No; I mean, I don’t know. But I do think the reality of God and the validity of religion are two different things. To me, there must be something out there, but I don’t know what. Just look at how complex and sophisticated biochemical processes are, how we could never design or fabricate something as complicated as a living organism. And if evolution is a part of it all, we still don’t know why or how any of it got started.”

      “So, you don’t see life as basically a series of chemical reactions that just happen on their own?”

      “For me, that view is a stretch. It just doesn’t feel right. I look at how vast and strange the universe is: how massive and powerful the stars are, how many there are, how far apart they are. There’s a lot going on. And when it comes right down to it, we don’t have a clue as to why things are the way they are or how they got that way. And yet, on a more personal level, there does seem to be a spiritual side to humans and other animals as well. It’s like there is an essence within each of us that transcends the lives we lead here. I think that’s why music seems so powerful at times. It’s like music forms a connection between the physical and spiritual side of things.” Mandy suddenly turned to look at Arthur, almost as if she were becoming aware of him for the first time. “You know, I don’t usually rattle on this much, at least about things like this. My family and friends would be very surprised. They think I’m this very sweet, reserved, conservative girl who pretty much goes along with her conservative upbringing.” She raised her eyebrows. “So anyway, why don’t you tell me what you think?”

      “Oh, I think you’re right.” he answered immediately, imagining knowing her better, imagining a conversation like this with her over dinner after several hours of uninhibited sex in the afternoon. “Human beings don’t know much about how or why we got here, and when religions try to fill the gap, the leaders often have their own agenda, with power and money being at the top of the list.”

      “I guess that makes us both skeptics,” she replied, smiling.

      “I’m afraid so,” he agreed. “We’ll probably both end up on the street someday, with a bottle of cheap wine, wishing we had had enough sense to listen to our parents.”

      They both laughed. “Doomed. We’re doomed,” Mandy added. “Educated winos bemoaning the plight of human existence.” They both laughed again. “Our parents tried, but—” A series of announcements came in over the intercom. Mandy grabbed her purse and bag and looking suddenly stressed, said, “That’s my flight.”

      Arthur found himself leaning forward as he asked, “Do you think you might want to visit Chicago sometime? There are a lot of things to do there.”

      “That sounds nice, but I have a boyfriend. I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier.”

      “That’s okay. I can’t say I’m surprised.” He sat back in his chair and looked down at the floor.

      “I guess the conversation got a little personal,” she said. “I hope you don’t mind. Sometimes it’s easier to open up about things with someone you don’t know. You know, no strings attached. I’ve enjoyed talking with you.”

      “Kind of like a one-night stand,” Arthur replied, looking past her, nodding his head slowly.

      She smiled and said quietly, “Yeah, kind of like that.”

      Arthur watched silently as she stood, gathered her things, and walked away.

      Chapter Two

      About three years later, on a sunny spring afternoon in 1969, Arthur stood with several hundred protesters outside the administration building at the University of Illinois. “Hell, no, we won’t go,” chanted a long-haired young man through a bullhorn. He stood on the steps of the building waving two fingers back and forth in the air as his voice carried over the crowd. A newspaper photographer dropped to one knee and snapped his picture. Soon most of the students were shouting the phrase with the young man, many extending two fingers above their own heads to form their own peace signs. As Arthur observed the enthusiastic demonstrators, the homemade signs, the long hair flowing in the breeze, he was warmed by their apparent solidarity and sense of purpose—young people united against the egotistic insanity of the older generation, young people determined to make a better world.

      As he continued to survey the scene, Arthur suddenly spotted an unexpected but familiar face, Joshua Taylor, a wiry young black man who, like Arthur, was working on a PhD in physical chemistry. Arthur wondered what someone like Joshua was doing at the peace rally. Joshua had always impressed Arthur as more or less apolitical, the quintessential lab rat, dedicated to working dutifully on his thesis and not much else.

      Suddenly, a contingent of six campus policemen stomped menacingly up the steps to the leader, grabbed the bullhorn from his hand, and ordered the crowd to disperse. The photographer took more pictures. “Leave the area now,” one of the policemen ordered mechanically. “Leave the area now.”

      “Go to hell,” Joshua shouted as the crowd began to fall silent.

      “Go to hell,” more voices echoed, followed by cheers and applause. At that point, one of the policemen, a heavyset young man, pointed his billy club at Joshua, said something to a superior, and then started wading through the demonstrators in Joshua’s direction. Arthur also started to work his way toward Joshua, who stood defiantly in place with both arms crossed in front of him.

      “You’re coming with me!” the policeman cried out as he latched onto one of Joshua’s arms.

      “Why?” Arthur yelled, arriving at the same time. “He has a right to be here.”

      “Stay out of this,” Joshua snapped at Arthur. He then turned to the policeman, jerked his arm free and shouted, “Fuck you, pig. I’m not going anywhere.” The policeman immediately raised his club to crack Joshua’s head, but before he could, Arthur, acting on impulse, body checked the policeman, knocking him to the ground. As the two young men stared at the stunned officer, who was still on his back, Joshua yelled urgently, “Let’s get out of here” and began pushing his way through the crowd. Arthur followed closely, struggling to get past the maddeningly inert students. Finally able to pick up the pace a bit, Arthur glanced back and saw that the policeman was now scrambling to his feet and would soon be in hot pursuit.

      “Let’s go,” Arthur shouted, pushing at Joshua’s back. Once they cleared the crowd completely, they broke

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