by Mitch Goth
By the time the sun had given way to the night, Rain's hangover symptoms had all but disappeared. The coffee certainly helped, as did a long day of resting. But now, as the night piled onward, she felt the adventure creeping up again. Unfortunately, nobody else felt likewise. And so she stayed in, finding enough adventure through playing highly competitive video games with Dando on one of the lobby televisions.
The game they occupied themselves with was an old street racing competition. Dando furnished himself with a silver Cadillac-looking car, not that dissimilar from Ben's vehicle. Rain played through a cherry red Ferrari. It appeared for the entirety of the race that their choices were quite equally matched.
The both of them kept their eyes fixed on their own side of the spilt screen, watching the other weave around them and dodge the other computer-controlled cars in the game. They were fighting first on the final lap, careful not to run into the other's car.
Hands tensed up at the sight of the pixilated checkered flag in the screen's distance. Absolute dexterity was needed, and that's what the both of them gave. Neither slipped up once. The game looked entirely tied by the time the cars passed over the finish line. They both just sat in stressful silence, waiting for the final rank to appear on the screen. After what felt like an eternity, the scoreboard appeared and showed Dando's car ahead by a tenth of a second.
"Yes," he muttered in celebration, raising a fist in the air with one hand and crossing himself with the other. "Caddy always wins."
"That was luck," Rain replied. "If we replayed this I'd smoke you."
"Luck ain't nothin', I got the lord on my side."
"Is that what the cross was for?" Rain wondered about the odd gesture.
"I gotta show my man some love when I win, which is always," Dando answered smugly, grinning at Rain.
"Can I ask you something?" she returned a smaller smile at him.
"Sure."
"How can someone like you believe in God?"
"Someone like me?" Dando looked over at her, taking the question with a degree of offense, seeing it as a racial problem.
"That's not what I mean," Rain instantly caught onto his misinterpretation. "I mean, how can a criminal believe in God?"
"I don't know," Dando shrugged. "I guess I just do."
"You kill people though, how can that work?"
"I know the people I kill have hell comin' to 'em anyhow. I understand how I do things, and I think if I understand how it goes, God must too. He's all knowin' after all."
"He probably wouldn't approve," Rain pointed out.
"He ain't gotta approve, he's just gotta understand. I think he does, actually I know he does."
"But how can you believe he's around after all that's happened?" the conversation was only adding to Rain's confusion.
"What do ya mean by that?" Dando became puzzled as well.
"What I've seen so far doesn't exactly show off a well-meaning, merciful God," Rain elaborated. "People are dying all around you, people get addicted to drugs, abandon their kids, all this terrible stuff. How can you sit there and be quaint with believing there's some deity behind it all? Not just that, but a deity worth sending love to."
"You don't believe in God, do ya?" Dando figured.
"No, I can't say that I do," Rain shook her head. "Sorry."
"No need to apologize. I ain't here to convert anybody. But its just pretty easy to spot a non-believer when they ask questions like that."
"Well, how can you believe living like you do?"
"I can't speak for anyone else, but for me its hoping for somethin' higher, somethin' greater. I guess I just gotta believe that there's somethin' out there creatin' some rhyme or reason to the bad shit I do, the bad shit everybody does. And I gotta believe there's someplace better than here out there."
"Kansas City?" Rain wondered. "Why not move someplace else? I hear New Zealand is nice."
"Nah, not Kansas City," Dando couldn't help but grow a small smile at her response. "Earth. New Zealand, Kansas City, New York, wherever, it don't matter. No place is perfect, no place is really better than another. It may look better, but its all the same, same people, same sins. I just gotta believe there's a place actually better than here. Someplace that looks as great as New Zealand or wherever, and be truly as great as it looks. A place where people don't kill or sling or any of that shit. A place where people just live with each other and ain't gotta sin to get what they want, because what they want is already there," Dando paused to observed Rain's expression. She still seemed slightly confused. "Does any of that make sense?"
"Yeah," Rain nodded, "yeah it does."
Rain was still far from convinced about the whole "God" thing, but now she understood. She understood just how someone like Bruce Dando could believe even when she couldn't. She could even see why he did. Living the life of a criminal, it had to be somewhat liberating to believe there was someplace where he didn't have to do those things to get what he needed, much less wanted.
"C'mon," Dando patted her playfully on the shoulder, "I'm down for a new game," he grabbed up his controller.
"Bring it on," Rain replied, the blank look falling away from her face and being replaced with a prepared, yet gleeful grin.
"You ain't gonna win," Dando prodded, "I got God in my passenger seat."
"We'll just see about that," Rain retorted.
They played the game for several more hours before Dando finally decided to call it a night, leaving Rain alone in the dim, empty hotel. She quickly faded into her room, finding the rest of the building too dark and eerie for her comfort. Besides, there was something she felt she was neglecting.
Laying down in bed, she pulled the notebook and pen out of her backpack. She opened to the page she almost wrote on during her depressed stupor. This time she found the power and courage to put words on paper. Only this time, there was far less rage on the other end of her pen.
Dear Mom and Dad,
By now I'm sure you're freaking out over me, wondering where I am, wondering where I've been. Well, this is a message telling you to not worry anymore. Even thought you'll probably never actually get this letter, or any of these, for a long time, if ever. I just want to tell you I'm fine now, and will be for a while. I can take care of myself, far better than you ever thought I could. I know you were only trying to keep me safe, but you need to understand that there comes a point when I can take care of myself, and that point came a long time ago. As much as I may have understood your thought process, I could never support it, and never will I'm sorry to say.
I can keep myself safe now, I know that for sure now. I can never tell you why or how I figured that out, even if we do ever see each other again. A lot has happened over the past few days, and I mean a whole damn lot. I've seen and still do see the world that you tried so damn hard to keep me safe from, away from. As much as it'll pain you to hear, I don't hate this place. It's different, not a place I could necessarily get comfortable getting used to. But it's a freer place to be, by far a freer place. Some people abuse the freedom they have around here, but not me. There's no sense in abusing the freedom I'm trying to enjoy, that just makes no sense. But I guess some other people don't exactly feel the same way. Well, as much as I'd like to keep writing this message all night, this newly found freedom I'm enjoying can get tiring, so I've got to end this here. Hope you enjoyed hearing from me.
Yours truly,
Delicate Rain
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