I sit up. Cy’s face is bunched up, like he’s dreaming hard. It looks cute. I’m going to be late for church.
I can’t miss today’s sermon. I’ve faxed Natto a few ideas, and this one’s going to be good.
I pull my clothes on quietly. I run home and shower. I’m late to church, and I slip into the back row. There are a lot of people in the pews. Despite the crowd, Natto sees me, smiles and winks. I wonder why it’s so crowded on New Year’s Day. All these people must feel guilty about something.
I spot someone a few rows up who must feel guilty. It’s Matt, and he’s sitting beside Shauna. She’s got short, blond hair, and looks sweet. She turns to Matt, and I see on her the clothes and face of someone who has never had to fight for male attention, who isn’t wearing much makeup and has never even worried about it. She won’t ever have to change or adapt unless Matt leaves her. She won’t ever have to harden herself or compromise. She’s lucky. I suppose.
I hate to say it, but Matt looks quite handsome in his suit. His hair is still wet. Hers isn’t. I decide this means they didn’t take a shower together. I feel relieved, for some reason. That’s stupid. I shouldn’t care about him anymore. He’s a cheater.
“Situational ethics,” Natto says, strutting across the stage. “Are they fair?”
Everyone is listening.
“Can we do something we know is wrong, and make up for it by giving a good excuse, say that, at the time, it wasn’t as wrong as it might have been in another situation? Last night was New Year’s Eve. How many people in this room did something we are now not proud of?”
Everyone looks around. I slump in my seat so Matt won’t see me.
“But it was New Year’s, right? You were drunk. So you couldn’t help what you did. And this morning, you figure, you can come to church and erase the deed.”
No one moves.
“Unlike all of you, most people this morning didn’t even get out of bed. I am impressed with this congregation. Truly impressed. But why are you here? To give something, or to ask for something?”
He pauses. He knows just when to pause. His silences both make us think and give us a moment of unease. I’m learning a lot about rhetoric from watching him.
“How many people have actually done something wrong, all the while knowing you were going to ask forgiveness later? How many movies have we seen where someone raises a gun, or a baseball bat, and says, ‘Lord, forgive me for what I’m about to do.’ Well, if you have to say that, then don’t do it!”
He straightens.
“Forgiveness is for honest mistakes. And yes, we are human. We have needs and feelings that conflict with our conscience, and sometimes we give in. But if we knowingly do something wrong, and we do it anyway, that’s reprehensible. If we make a mistake, we can ask forgiveness. But if we willfully hurt someone, we are doing something a lot worse. You don’t get absolved just because you feel like it. Otherwise, we could all just do whatever we wanted, and then run to church each Sunday and atone.”
Say it, I think.
“Adultery,” Natto says. “Chea-ting.”
Chee-ting.
“What are the chances, if you meet a successful man who’s been married for thirty years, and he’s in his fifties or sixties, what are the chances that his wife’s the only one he’s ever been with since he met her? It almost seems impossible these days, doesn’t it?”
Matt looks stiff.
“So what’s wrong with a little cheating? Why is it called cheating? We know our spouse wouldn’t like it. We’re doing things we shouldn’t be. We made a promise no one forced us to make. Maybe we’re opening ourselves up to health risks by cheating. Maybe we’re spending time or money or affection that should instead go to our spouse, or our kids. You can make excuses. Now, some people will say, hey, at least a little cheating’s better than getting divorced.”
Shauna looks at Matt, smiling, then back at Natto. I guess she knows he’d never cheat on her. Oh, no.
A thought crosses my mind. I’ll bet that Shauna is rabidly against cheating. Most women who are in committed relationships probably are. Why not? It’s very easy to be anticheating when you’re settled. It’s easy to be moral if you have exactly what you want.
“Is that right?” Natto asks. “Cheating to avoid getting divorced? The reason cheating is called cheating is that you’re doing something behind someone’s back. Something that could hurt someone. By not being honest, you hurt them. In some cases, maybe it hurts a little. In others, maybe a lot.”
I think about the movie Out of Africa, which was also on the AAFR list. In it, Karen Blixen goes down to Africa to marry a baron, and in part of it, she starts getting sick, and she finds out it’s syphilis. She’s never been with a man before her husband, so she knows it had to have come from him. And he has to admit that he got it from some woman. The cad.
Natto stops pacing and looks at a guy in a frayed suit. “I’m not here to pass judgment,” he says. “I’m not God. Only you can know your own situations. But what about the Golden Rule? You think you can cheat, but you know you’d be upset if your spouse cheated. If you’ve both agreed to cheat, then you have an open relationship. Which makes me a little queasy…but in many ways, it’s more honest than cheating.”
I wonder if this is a bad move, sounding like he even remotely advocates this. But it is a good question.
“In cheating, you are doing something to another you would not want done to you.”
He wags his finger.
“Do unto others as you would have others do unto you. In many religions, that is a defining maxim. In Judaism and some of the Eastern religions, it’s phrased slightly differently. There, it’s, do not do to others as you would not want done to you. It all boils down to the same thing—treat people with respect. Come up with a code, and don’t change your code to fit a certain situation, or a time. And if you do mess up, sure, you are entitled to ask forgiveness. But don’t do something you believe deep inside is wrong and then make an excuse.”
I see Matt looking at Shauna. He isn’t smiling. I’m sure he’ll come up with his own rationalization later, so that he can continue to, without guilt, put his power supply in lots of outlets.
Natto winds up. When he’s finished, he jumps off the stage and takes a towel from Eppie to wipe his forehead. Eppie’s wife is with him today, a short little woman, and for some reason I’m glad that means Eppie’s not Natto’s lover. Although I guess you still never know.
I see that Shauna and Matt are coming up the aisle. This is my chance to rat Matt out to her.
I consider this for a second. If I do say something, I know it won’t be for the right reasons. It won’t be to help Shauna. It’ll be to satisfy some sick need for revenge. Which makes it half-wrong. Half-wrong because he is hurting her, and in some sense, she should know. So telling her might be the right thing for the wrong reason, but I’m not even sure it’s totally the right thing—because I don’t know that in the end, she’ll leave him, or that he’ll really change his ways. Maybe she’ll be more guarded, which would be a good thing, but it might also be a bad thing. It might only hurt her. Maybe he has to change on his own. I am not really sure what the right thing is to do. It seems like telling her would be right and wrong at the same time.
Is it possible that there is no right answer for what I should do? That maybe this actually is a situation where it’s not black-and-white?
Wow. Could that be?
I stand there, directly in their line of travel, like I’m toeing the edge of the ocean waiting to get hit by a wave.
When Matt sees me, his eyes look like they’re about to jump out of his head.
“Hi, Shauna,” I say, shaking her hand.
“Carrie?” she says. Matt’s stunned. “This is Matt. Matt, Carrie.”
Matt shakes my hand, looking like he’s seeing a ghost.
“Shauna and I are going to do great work here,” I say.
Matt still doesn’t know what to say.
�
��Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Pre-wedding jitters,” Shauna says, smiling. “We’re getting married in April.”
“That’s very exciting,” I say.
Matt says, “Hi.”
Shauna giggles. “Slow.”
“Like the sermon?” I ask him.
“Loved it,” he says, without smiling.
“Do you guys go to church a lot?” I ask sweetly.
Shauna smiles and looks at Matt. “We used to,” she says. “We think we’re going to start going back now.”
“Well, it’s good you got this assignment,” I tell Shauna.
“I’m really excited about it,” Shauna says.
“I also really like Joe Natto,” I say. “He doesn’t pretend to have all the answers.” I look at Matt. “We have to judge for ourselves.”
Natto joins us and meets Matt. Then, Natto, Shauna and I repair to his office and Matt goes off to meet “friends” for lunch. I don’t know if the “friends” are another woman, and I don’t care. Hopefully Matt will decide what the right thing is to do.
I’m not going to tell Shauna. At least, not for now. Not until I can determine that it’s right.
Shauna, Joe and I have a pretty good powwow. Shauna is very excited about her first big account. Who can blame her? She’s going to be part of something new and potentially huge. She and I are going to be the First Prophets’ Church. Anyone who sees it will see it through the prism of our marketing. I’ll help with the text. We’ll lure the greatest number of young, professional New Yorkers of any religious movement in years.
Oh, and I’ve read Joe’s book. He’s brilliant. I didn’t like him hawking his book at first, but the content actually is more philosophical than spiritual. If this were another era, he’d probably be trying to get his work published as a book of philosophy, but that doesn’t count for much these days. As for the “vision” he says he had, he told me it was more a group of conclusions he came to and not something imbued via an apparition. So he’s not a loon. At least, not completely. And what’s so bad about being a loon?
After Shauna leaves the office, I stay behind. I tell Joe I liked the book, and that I was worried, because generally, when I meet someone I think I might believe in, I have to contend with the fear that the more I learn about them, the more bad things I’ll learn. It is true.
He laughs. “You are incredibly astute for nineteen,” he says. “Sometimes I feel like the younger one, when I’m with you.”
“I like making people feel younger,” I say.
“I like feeling it,” he says. “I haven’t felt that way in a while.”
I smile.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and you can say no, but it’s lunchtime, and I was wondering if you would have lunch with me. Eppie and his wife may join us, if they’re still around.”
“Sure,” I say, selfishly hoping they aren’t.
As we leave the church, people keep coming up to Joe, and he talks to them. He gives a couple some advice and makes them feel happy. I can’t believe I’m going to be spending time with someone so charismatic.
At my next meeting with Petrov, I tell him about New Year’s, about Cy (although I leave out the more salacious details) and about Natto. I ask him what he did for New Year’s. He says he spent it with his daughter and son-in-law and their kids. I’m sure he would have liked to have been with Sheryl. But she was probably with her husband on New Year’s.
I guess he can sense what I’m thinking. “She was out…” he starts.
“I know.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“I don’t know what the answer is.”
If psychologists don’t have the answers, and preachers don’t, and I don’t, who does?
Certainly not anyone who pretends to. They know least of all.
“Dr. Petrov,” I say. “What’s Sheryl’s middle name?”
He leans back. “It’s…Stephanie.”
He’s got it bad.
Can he help it?
That night, I finally write something extensive in my journal.
I know some things for sure. Others, I do not know. I know that we are responsible for our actions. Sticking to a set of morals doesn’t always give us the capacity to sit in judgment of others, but it is important to stand for something. Even if it hurts sometimes. There probably are things that are absolutely wrong and absolutely right. We don’t always know what they are, and we may make mistakes along the way trying to figure them out. But we have to try.
It’s a cop-out to say there are no absolutes. Anyone who says that is proclaiming that that’s an absolute, so right away they’re wrong. There are things we should follow. Maybe we learn more as we grow about what’s important and what’s not. But in truth, sometimes we learn less.
And what if sticking by certain beliefs means we will never fit in? What if we can’t find one person who agrees with us? I suppose we should check to make sure we’re not being too rigid. We also can try to find others who agree with our beliefs, and see if these beliefs stand up to various tests. Beyond that, we have to do our best and try to muddle through.
I put down my pen and pick up my copy of Mr. Smith Goes to Washington to return to the video store. I was disappointed in this one. Politicians today cite Jefferson Smith as if he’s some great role model, but in truth, all he does is hang around with young boys and beat up reporters. That’s just not cool.
When I get outside my apartment, I see Ronald.
“Carrie!” he says.
“Ronald!”
“What kind of food do you want to get tonight?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “What do you think?”
He shrugs. “Italian? Chinese? Mexican?”
“Not Mexican.”
“It’s going to be fun,” Ronald says.
His unassuming optimism is kind of charming.
“You want to meet me at the coffee shop at six?” I ask.
“Sure. Hey, what movie’s that?”
“Oh,” I say. I hold it down, at my side. I guess he has forgotten our earlier discussion. “I’m sorry. I just don’t like to say what movies I’m renting. It’s nothing personal.”
“Okay. I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be sorry. Lots of people ask me that. I’m just a strange person. It’s not your fault.”
He grins. “I’m glad you’re strange.”
“Well, I’ll see you soon.”
“See you,” he says.
I walk to the video store, return the DVD and take out a couple of musicals. My project right now is to make Cy think I’m an expert. I like being the dumb one. It’s a nice change. A challenge.
(By the way, I didn’t have sexual intercourse with him that night, if that was what you were thinking. Yeah, we did a lot of things, but we stopped short of that. See how jaded you are?)
When the cashier hands me the movies, she doesn’t offer me a bag, so I have to ask for one. They’ll never learn.
When I get home, I write in my journal, “You should never give up on a principle that is logical, sound, important and integral to your constitution, even if the world seems against it.” Just as true now as it was three months ago.
I close the journal, pop in the movie, pull on some toasty new socks, and curl up on my bed. The movie’s all right, but I fall asleep nevertheless.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am tremendously grateful to the following people:
Cheryl Pientka, my agent, for her unparalleled wisdom, humor and patience; Farrin Jacobs, for superior editing and wit; Marc Serges, a true literary sage, for insight and persistence; Matthew Greco, Jeff Hauser and Stacie Fine, for their many invaluable suggestions; Dawn Eden, Eileen Budd, Dan Saffer, Jim Damis, Barry Macaluso, Mary Beth Jipping, Julia Hough, Jonathan Blackwell, Michael Malice, Robert Donnell and Jodi Harris, for advice and longtime literary support; Lucha Malato, Dave Unger and Joe Barry, for keeping me clothed and fed; Jennifer Merrick, for artistic ideas; my brother, Todd
; my parents; and Al Sullivan.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-5996-0
CARRIE PILBY
Copyright © 2010 by Caren Lissner
Originally published June 2003 by Red Dress Ink.
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