The Silent Minority
Page 17
innuendoes of the opponents, and illogical claims of the sympathizers, defending the Teacher, portraying him as a saint, a prophet, a man of God and more, making the skeptics and logical people stay aloof from this mass hysteria.
Every issue, the Teacher touched, was ripped to pieces by the opponents, by the 'experts', and by the overzealous sympathizers, so much so, that hardly anything of the original intension of the author was standing. Only a few sensible voices far and between tried in vain to be heard in this cacophony of this verbal and written diarrhea. Never before in such a short time, had an elderly man, with no laurels, doctorates, or any kind of distinctions, caused so much havoc, so much frenzy around the world.
The pro-life and the pro-choice movements were antagonizing each other in panels in radio talk shows, and in the social network, with the pro-choice advocates using all the absurd excuses in order to defend themselves, and the pro-life ones, accusing them as cold-blooded murderers.
Scientists and religious leaders debated let there be light, and the big bang theory, with capitalists against communists. Homosexuals demonstrated for their rights. The hypnotist association issued an injunction seeking a court order to ban this slanderer from living in the country. Anthropologists disputed the claims made by the Teacher, regarding the missing link case. Astrologists stood versus numerologists. People from the prenatal movement challenged the Teacher to prove that their theory was wrong. Vegetarians stood versus meat eaters, and theologians versus atheists. Agnostics were versus zealots, and even the young king of Bhutan, tweeting in the Internet, claimed that the proposed standard of happiness by the Teacher, was already used in his country, instead the GDP, and he could not understand what the fuss was about.
It was later than usual when Mr. Clarke, the chairman of the WCFET reached his car to go home. It was a shock to him, when he put the radio on his favorite station to listen to his beloved classical music, to hear the presenter of the show, who had barely talked in the past, commenting in between to arias, about him and the Teacher, saying how things had deteriorated in the world, that it would be inconceivable even ten years ago, for the chairman of such an important organization, openly to defy the public, and to appear with the accused, in such an intimate moment, at the time of the hearing, inside the hearing hall. That is a step over the line, and...
The chairman felt cold sweat running down his forehead. He turned the radio off and reached his house, immersed in his thoughts.
For the first time, after forty years married, his wife Lillian was awaiting him down in the garage in an alert state. The relief was obvious when she heard the car entering the court, and then driving into the garage where she welcomed her husband. She quickly embraced him, and put the finger on to his leaps indicating not to speak, and that she knew everything. They went into the lounge, where she poured a drink for him, saying, "I turned the telephones and the television off. I could not take it anymore."
The chairman let his body drop in a chair, motionless, and expressionlessly sat there as an empty husk.
"Shall I serve dinner honey?" asked his wife, in a sweet voice, trying to take her husband's mind off all the troubling thoughts.
"Just pour me one other drink my dear," he replied with a tired voice and even more softly, talking to himself, he added, "for... looks like today is the day of reckoning, and tomorrow..." He took the drink and went up in their bedroom, and collapsed on the bed, with his clothes and shoes on.
Oh...how much his wife wanted to help him, to dissolve with a magic touch this conflict that was ripping him apart, to alleviate his pain, and to root out the cause that appeared of nowhere this day in a form of an old man. She wanted to find and challenge him, and tell him he had not the right to interfere with the happiness of other people, and if he wanted to preach to others, how about if he started with himself.
But she knew that whatever she thought was wishful thinking, and that would not help in this case. For life is not meant to be easy, and man has to take a stand sometimes, even in that which will go against his happiness.
Is not this the big question? Should a man ruin everything he built in his life, to defend the right of an old man's opinion?
Was all this worth it? Would that in any way help her husband? Deep inside her, she could not find the strength to do it. She wanted to scream and with a loud voice to say, 'Yes'. After all is not this the difference that makes a man from an animal?
She was so confused and bewildered, she made a small gesture as though as she wanted to shake it all from her mind, and went upstairs to the bedroom. Her husband was still lying there on the bed with his eyes closed. Not knowing whether he was sleeping or not, she reached and pulled the shoes silently off his feet.
She went downstairs to a small room, and kneeled on the floor. She had not done this gesture for years, and she felt kind of ashamed that now things looked bad, she thought about God. Nevertheless, she poured her heart out, and with the tears rolling on her cheeks, she begged God to help her husband to make the right decision.
Mr. Clarke opened his eyes and found himself on the bed with his clothes on. He was wondering how things could get so bad in a short time. What did he do wrong? Could he possibly be so erroneous, to do something that wrong, which the whole world knew of, except him?
He was trying hard for an excuse, to find something, a reason; to numb this voice that would not allowed him to be in peace. He tried to recall what the Teacher said, to find something to yell, yeah! I got him, but all in vain. He even thought of what the Teacher said about the occasional slapping on the wrist of an unruly child. Although he could not visualize someone doing that to his grandchildren, whom he loved so much, he felt that even in this instance he might be right after all. He remembered the occasional pulling of the ear of unruly kids in his childhood, but the kids still respected the adults.
He got up and had a shower; letting the water run on his body for a while and it soothed him peacefully. He felt much better, and went down and met his wife in the kitchen.
"Would you like to eat something Adam?" his wife asked.
"Yes," he said abruptly. "It is not use to worry about it now; it is not use at all."
"You are absolutely right, honey."
"I will just sleep on it."
After the meal, and while they had coffee, his wife sat next to him, holding his hand and looking in his eyes she told him softly, "Honey, I know tomorrow is a turning point in our life. Either way, things are not going to be the same, but whatever you decide; I will be behind you with all my heart... I just want to tell you not to regard the consequences of your decision as the key factor. This time to listen to your heart, and may God help you accordingly. We are an elderly couple now; we don't need this way of life any more, we can go by with the minimum now. We can go by, with just a plate of food, a bed, and something over our head. We don't need titles, flashy cars, and big houses. What we need now, is peace of mind, and that will came only if you make the decision by your heart. So honey whatever decision you make disregard the consequences, and I will be behind you with all my strength."
Next day, newspapers, television channels, and radios, had a field day. Television cameras and reporters were even stationed outside the WCFET chairman's house.
The chairman embraced his wife tenderly; they stood in this position for a while, then, holding her hands, the chairman said, "Don't worry, my love. As John Wayne used to say, a man's got to do, what a man's got to do."
They burst laughing, then he kissed his wife, and left.
He had to drive carefully when the gate opened, for the reporters blocked his way out, in a frenzied manner, as they tried to get a word out of him. He managed to squeeze through. On the way to the WCFET headquarters; he put on his favorite radio station, hoping this time for no surprises. Luckily, the music was good, and he reached the building easily. He drove the car behind the building, in order to escape the reporters, and he went into his office.
Inside the building, there were few workers re
arranging the chairs for the press, and deep in the hall, the television crews, of four major networks, were setting up their gear.
Outside, there were many reporters, some of them with the clearance to participate in the press conference, and others, including local television cameras, waiting to report the general happenings outside of the hall.
But it seemed today there would be not much to report. There were many policemen, and reporters, but no people. They did not expect anybody either.
The mayor, concerned of possible violence, had disallowed any gathering in front of the building, and installed a significant number of policemen outside.
Many television stations and newspapers wanted to interview the Teacher, but in vain. They tried to get hold of him, but they did not know how to. He did not have a representative, an agent, an office, or somewhere they could come in contact with. The only thing they knew was that his travel companion was taking care of business, and that was all. They came in touch with the administration office of the WCFET, to give them more information, but the only thing they could tell them was he was staying with friends, and as he was not formally charged with anything, they were not entitled to know more.
Meanwhile, it was such the fuss of the whole thing about the Teacher, his