by S. J. Finn
I was incredulous. ‘You’d want to be in the control group for that one,’ I said.
‘The findings were published.’
‘No.’
‘And guess what?’
‘The people being prayed for got better?’
‘Not even God could bring about that, apparently.’
‘His hypothesis didn’t hold up?’
‘Nigel claimed there needed to be more investigation into the topic, went on with stuff people always say when their hypotheses don’t bring about the thing they hope.’
Incredulous as I was, I didn’t really begin to laugh until James told me how the experiment was carried out. The congregation Nigel was part of had received numbers which corresponded to file numbers of clients and they prayed for the numbers – C34178 etc. - to be healed or forgiven or whatever it was they asked of God in their church.
‘Nothing ever changes,’ I said to James, shaking my head. ‘Remember that afternoon we spent doing the pamphlet, remember that we chose the house with the crack in it? And you remember what happened, Antwerp said that despite the fact that we worked with kids with problems, he didn’t want anything that looked sad or falling down advertising the place. Remember. They produced a thing with strict lines and headings in navy blue that were meant to look corporate but really just appeared unfriendly and uninteresting. It’s the same thing with Nigel. He behaves appallingly and everyone’s more concerned with how they’re going to maintain the status quo for him, for his sake.’
‘The God thing is never mentioned.’
‘The silent partner in the room.’
‘The thirteenth team member.’
‘The undisputed adjudicator.’
Forget the human experience, we’ve got God here to tell us. ‘
‘Oh, except, I’m sorry, yes, he’s just nicked out. We’ll have to refer to the text which, although very old now, will do.’
James smiled. ‘People are scared to leave good and evil up to humans, scared there’ll be chaos and mayhem on the planet if God’s word, let alone his presence, is challenged.’
‘Maybe if humans,’ I chipped in, ‘had to take responsibility instead of relying on God’s word, they’d be more trustworthy. Would it have been bad if the hospital had expected more of the good doctor? Made him leave religion at the door. Reminds me of something Dave used to say: God’s word is fuelled by the blood of the disbeliever! Can you believe it, out of all his bullshit platitudes, he came up with something of his own, something brilliant probably.’
I looked at James. ‘I’m raving.’
‘That’s why I like to see you.’
‘You’re excusing me.’
‘No. I agree with everything you’ve said.’
‘But you never seem to have these problems, you seem so much calmer with life.’
‘I just take a little longer to react. Believe me, as soon as I’m a little further along with my savings plan I’ll be right behind you. Might even be renting a room from you in a couple of years.’
We parted company on the streets of the city but I was reluctant to leave for a minute, as if watching James go would remind me it hadn’t all been in my mind, the good and the bad. His head twisted both ways as he checked for traffic and crossed the road, and I was left, unsure if I’d come any significant distance in life. There was always the possibility, after all, that I’d just walked around in a big circle, never having made it into the middle of the maze, just bumbling along in no particular direction. Certainly life was still a mystery, still a challenge, still fraught with the computation of being as good as I could be: for me, for Marcus, for Renny. The two of them were my new family. That much had changed, that much I knew for certain. And Dave? Well, he would have his own version of events, a version I couldn’t worry about. My story had to part company from his, that’s what splitting up means. I had to say goodbye, had to have a vision of myself as separate. And that takes a long time, time that had already led me into the middle of so much more.
I guess that’s what had been revealed: that as one thing came to an end any gap it left had already been filled. As for broken promises and not being a "forever" person anymore, I decided – there on the busy street, wondering if I might spot James’s disappearing form one more time – that holding onto prescriptions made under one set of circumstances was not always possible when those circumstances change. I had told myself already that while I would have loved to have stayed in a whole family for Marcus’s sake, a part deep within me was smarter than any conscious thinking powers I had at my disposal and, ultimately, that self is a benign force, programmed for survival, emotional as well as physical. It’s important that we listen, and not with our brains but with some level of faith in life – not God! – but life. Mind you, to keep my head up, to keep going when only walls of green hedge and the tiniest sliver of sky was showing, wasn’t easy. Even telling myself that while the maze might be confusing it only covered a relatively small area, didn’t help.
No. There was only the idea that wandering around – even when almost unable and sometimes unwilling to go on – was better than giving in, better than sitting. And the thought that the answer lay close at hand, or even within me, wasn’t of much use either, but movement (backwards, forwards, sideways) was vital to some kind of explanation emerging eventually, even if it meant leaving a trail of scattered, unfinished business behind. That’s what I’ve decided, at any rate, after this long and hand-throbbing day at the table in my lounge room, after all this scribbling and pontificating.
And that’s what I’m going to cling to.
Acknowledgements
My unbound appreciation goes to Lou and Zoe.