“It’s God’s way. You have to accept it and embrace it if you believe in God. God wants us to endure a good ass fucking from time to time. It’s just the way he is. I think he likes to watch, too.”

“You got problems,” Rizzo huffed, stomping away.

“It sounds like you got problems; not the least of which being, your subconscious struggles with faith.” He puffed on a Tijuana Small cigar. “You know, I just love how when something goes well, you fuckin’ people thank God for everything. Thank yourselves. You’re the ones who pulled through. It makes me laugh when people pray aloud; thanking God for all they have and exclaiming how God has shined his light down upon them for their self-righteous efforts. Well, by saying that, you’re inadvertently saying that God hates all the other unlucky motherfuckers in this world. The ones who live in backwards countries and are starving to death, or the ones who lose their homes to a fire. It must be because God hates those particular families and races of people. What about natural disasters? Were the victims of those disasters all heathens? That’s what people who thank God for all the joy in their lives are saying. Otherwise, why wouldn’t God give joy and happiness to everyone? He has the capacity to do so, right? I mean, he is the Almighty. Right?”

“That’s a good question.”

“You want the answer?”

“Probably not.”

“It’s because, number one, there is no God and this is all one blind crap shoot or, number two, there is a God but he’s dumb as a wall, which means that our creation was probably nothing more than a freak accident he had while making a pot of coffee. Or, number three, there is a God and he works in partnership with Satan to preserve the balance of good and evil. I mean, what would God mean without Satan?”

“I really don’t wanna believe that God is evil, if there is one.”

“You know in a community fish tank, when one fish gets really sick, it is best to take it out of the water and let it die slowly, rather than spread the disease. That fish didn’t do anything wrong. He was just minding his own business when he got sick but it is for the good of the whole community that he expires. It’s just a responsibility that the owner of the tank, or in this case, God, must take care of whether we like it or not.” Mahdakis held her hand, lovingly, and stared back at the night stars.

© 2011 Mark Rogers

Driftwood
(Book I)

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