Chester knew questions were dangerous. Especially ones revolving around religion or ceremony or, worse, both. The treacherous nature of the footing around such grew more intense when the ladies, the term changed from girls to avoid confusion with their daughter, were near enough to turn the answer into a lesson. Yet, he let the question slip without thinking. The ladies perked up. They did not share Chester’s distaste for Nicole’s monologues.
“It started before I was born. At first it was just secular holidays. My father felt people needed to be shown the foolishness of misusing the word and mocked for building monoliths to the greatness of man when the glory of God was right there. He said it could be celebrated every day. That it was insane to live mediocre, plebian lives that caused apathy to the miracles all around us. It was a travesty to trot out the Word only on special occasions and pretend they were celebrations when they were, in truth, wakes for our faith and souls.
“It always ate at him that the state had more days honoring the people’s mindless obedience to it than God did for giving us free will to ignore him. It incensed him that even when you included the days for false heathen gods, Caesar still had more. So he ‘threw tradition in the face of the Sodomites and Gomorrahans.’
“We had foie gras and vodka on Cinco de Mayo. On veteran’s day we ate frog legs and drank German beer. When that wasn’t enough for him we went out on memorial day and painted peace signs on the headstones of soldiers. The best one was his tradition of flying over an English family on the fourth of July. We took them on a tour of the white house, then threw coffee and firearms into the reflecting pool.
“Eventually, God told him to remember the religious days and keep them holy. So while state days were great fun and rebellion Christmas, Easter, Passover, any day celebrating the true God really, became somber occasions. We celebrated as Christ did, by honoring the Eucharist. Now that he is gone, now that we have the children to think of, now that we have these ladies to train I would like to continue the tradition.”
“Okay,” Chester sighed, “but can’t you go get the supplies yourself?”
“You know that’s a man’s job.” She chided in the way she had. Chester could never determine if it was humorous or deadly.
“But why a bum?” He couldn’t look her in the eyes when he asked. “If we’re fighting to change the world we shouldn’t attack the enemies of our enemies.”
“Make sure it’s not the bum working with us! Choose another. Chester, you know why. Nobody misses vagrants or whores. When the movement gains steam, after a few more signs we will attack those holding the power. Once we can’t be stopped we can take the war directly to those standing in our way. Until then, we have to fly below the radar but our traditions must be observed.”
He was about to argue. She stopped his protests with a kiss. The ladies oohed and ahed. He would do what she told him. As he always did. He just hoped his luck with murder was as good as the cop’s.
#shortstory #novel #author #dark #religion #socialcommentary #writer #writing
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