Good Fiction
Early the next morning, Piper stood next to Nick inside of a gondola as it headed up the ski slope. Everyone had arrived in Colorado, and within that gondola, Piper and Nick’s favorite people were present. She looked over at Flypaper, who stood in a very chummy way next to Chase’s sister Kat making small talk. He appeared to be slightly shorter than she, but that didn’t deter him. Or her. She seemed interested in the things he had to say. Kat was a beautiful woman with ethereal features that could qualify her as a model, which made her somewhat intimidating. Maybe Flypaper had met his match. Piper tuned into their conversation.
“So, are you still dating Charles?”
“No. We broke up about six months ago.”
“Are you dating anyone else?”
“No, not right now.”
“What a coincidence,” he responded boldly. “Neither am I.”
Piper watched his Cheshire cat smile light up as he inched himself even closer to Kat. She was glad that one of the best looking single women in the group had an interest in Flypaper, as then she didn’t need to worry about her developing an interest in Nick.
“Piper, are you up for a challenge?” Nick asked, “Do you want to try Rambo? I hear it’s steep, but lots of fun.”
“Why not? I’m warmed up now.”
“That’s my girl,” Nick said as he put his helmet on. Piper put her helmet on too. The gondola was about to reach its destination on the top of the mountain and it was chilly outside.
Bob looked at Betty and said, “Do you want to give the Rambo a go?”
“Sure,” she responded with a smile. He then offered her some hooch from his flask, but she declined.
Piper watched her as she pulled a bota bag out from under her ski jacket and said, “Cheers.”
“Man, you’re cool! I’m so pumped I found the napkin with your number on it. Thought I lost it. You’re my dream girl,” Bob said as he toasted her with his flask. He and Betty then popped the caps from their containers and guzzled and gulped the fire water inside, which lit the flaming curls that were bursting about Betty’s head, barely contained by her headband.
“Are you in for some fun?” Flypaper asked Kat.
“You kidding?” She winked. With a sly smile, she grabbed her helmet and put it on, covering her short, sassy blonde hair. “I’m always in for some fun. I’m in it to win it, babe.”
“So am I!”
Flypaper was starting to appear successful in his quest. Maybe she wouldn’t be a challenge for him after all. Maybe she would be his next ex-girlfriend. Too bad for her. And him. No one ever served him the humble pie he needed.
“Cherie and I are going to take the Chute. We’ll catch up with you guys either at the lift or at Happy Hour,” Chase said.
Cherie didn’t ski as well as the others in the group and would likely fare better on the Chute, which was less steep. It was nice Chase didn’t try to force her onto Rambo. Maybe he had some good qualities after all.
They departed the gondola and assembled their skis and snowboards. Piper watched Chase as he pulled his sister aside and away from Flypaper. She could hear his words.
“Watch out for Juan. We call him Flypaper for a reason you need to know. He has scored with many women since high school, Kat. Many.”
“I can handle it, Chase. Just having fun.”
“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. And don’t sleep with him!”
“You should know me better than that, Chase.”
The friends split up and Piper’s group headed to Rambo. Nick was first, followed by Piper and then the rest. The slope seemed a bit steep and somewhat slippery, so she skied with more caution than usual, taking time to cut her skis into the little powder she could find. The weather was a few degrees warmer than it had been the day before and the sweeping sapphire sky was devoid of any clouds, which translated into a dearth of fresh powder and much ice. Piper hoped for some overnight snow. Ice was no skier’s friend.
From across the slope, she could hear Flypaper singing as he sped down the slope on a snowboard. “Shredding up the ski slope, I just can’t get enough. I just can’t get enough. Ripping up the ski slope, I just can’t get enough. I just can’t get enough. I just can’t get enough.”
He and Kat carved their way down the left side of the slope with ease, while Piper and Nick carved up the right. They lost Bob and Betty somewhere along the way, yet weren’t concerned for their welfare. Probably just lost them to another hooch break.
***
At the end of the day, Piper put her arm around Nick, who was seated next to Chase and facing the band at a high top table near the fireplace of the Rowdy Rooster. The Love Warriors were playing country music again and the songs they had selected were infused with Christian messages and themes. She appreciated that. Chase got up to do his signature stroll around the bar with his cell phone, leaving Piper to again wonder about the person on the other end of the line. Oren again?
Piper looked over at Cherie and was reminded of an important question that she wanted to ask her. Again. She had tried to ask the question before but was interrupted by Chase. It was around 8 p.m. and she was starting to feel tired, but she had waited for this opportunity all day. She didn’t know why she felt such a burning desire to impact the belief systems of Chase and Cherie. The desire to impact their other friends wasn’t burning in her heart nearly as much. It was as if she had been called to say something. Or maybe it was the constant presence of the dark spirits. She didn’t know for sure.
“Cherie, can we talk about God again?”
“Sure, I’m game. Always open to opinions.”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about your Eastern beliefs,” she said. “Christians believe that God made the universe, similar to the way a builder builds a home. The home wouldn’t here without the builder, but the builder would be present without the home. And since scientists have found that the universe was created about 13.8 billion years ago by a big bang, and that it has been expanding ever since, we know that 13.8 years ago something or someone set it in motion and started that expansion. Matter and energy don’t go into motion without a force. And that great force is the creator of the universe, God.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Cherie said.
Nick looked at Cherie with a great sense of seriousness. His deep eyes penetrated hers, gripping every bit of her attention. It was clear that he was trying to take control of the situation, and trying to shift her opinion on the matter to that which he had embraced.
“Christians distinguish between good and evil too,” Nick added, “because if you don’t distinguish between good and evil, you’re saying that God is both good and evil. You’re saying that God is a part of all cruelty, murder, slums, cancer, leprosy, and war. That’s not God. Not our God. That’s Satan. The Christian God is very personal and only good. He’s an active loving God, not a passive part of nature. He is the Creator, not the creation.” Nick paused. “So, what do you think of Jesus?”
Cherie answered, “Jesus was a prophet. A great moral teacher.”
“Yeah, I figured that was your opinion. That’s the default opinion. Muslims believe that too, but many even go further by denying that Jesus died on the cross. Most Muslims think God took Jesus into heaven before the crucifixion and some guy who looked just like Him was beaten and crucified in His place,” Nick said as he shook his head.
“Really? Some random guy?” Cherie asked.
“Not really random. I’m sure they think the guy looked like Jesus and that God sent him,” Nick said.
“Like an innocent guy wouldn’t say something about not being Jesus when he met Pontius Pilate. Like he’d keep his silence while being whipped and crucified.” Piper added.
Nick shook his head. “Even the Jewish Sanhedrin acknowledged that Jesus died on the cross. By believing that He wasn’t crucified, Muslims deny the resurrection, which denies the foundation of Christianity. Makes me wonder about the inspiration of their faith.”
Piper studied Cherie, noting that Nick was still holding every bit of her attention. She appreciated that. Figuring he could hold the attention of just about anyone he met with his convincing evangelism, Piper considered herself lucky to be by his side. He did a much better job of articulating their position than she did alone.
Nick continued, “And Jews are still waiting for their Prophet Zechariah’s prediction to come true, that their King would come to them, humble and lowly, riding on a donkey. Who uses that mode of transportation anymore?” Nick paused. “Beyond that, the prophet Isaiah so clearly predicted Jesus’ coming in his 53rd chapter that Jewish rabbis exclude that passage from their list of regular synagogue readings from the Tenach, which is in our Old Testament. They also exclude other passages referring to the Messiah, the Virgin Mary, and the betrayal of Jesus by Judas for 30 shekel coins.”
“How did you find that out?” Piper asked.
“The Jews for Jesus website. I joined their group.”
“Don’t stop now. I’m listening. You’re on a roll,” Cherie responded with a grin; her eyes still connected with Nick’s.
“Jesus was much more than a prophet. It says in many passages of the New Testament that He was and is the Son of God. He said He’s the Son of God and He forgave people for their sins against others. He said that no one gets to the Father except through Him. A great moral teacher doesn’t forgive people like that and call Himself the way, the truth, and the life. To call Him merely a great moral teacher while knowing that He said He is the Son of God is really saying that He was just a crazy man. A mad man. A liar. As C.S. Lewis put it, He would be the equivalent of a poached egg. Do you think Jesus was on the level of a poached egg?”
“You have an interesting way of putting things Nick. And I have a great respect for Jesus. I’ll bet my parents would make the same argument if I gave them the chance. But I still think that the church leaders wrote those passages about Jesus to attract more followers.”
Nick continued, “I might have thought that way too, until I read the Bible and the works of the non-biblical Roman historians. After Jesus was buried, His eleven remaining apostles hid out in their homes, afraid they would meet the same demise that He had met. They feared for their lives and questioned their beliefs in the man they had followed. Then Jesus appeared to them very much alive. That’s the key. Had He not appeared to them after He was crucified, they would never have done what they did for Him. They were burned, stoned, clubbed, beheaded, and crucified, all while enthusiastically preaching His word.”
“Yeah, that’s what they wrote,” Cherie said.
“Okay. Let’s look at it this way. Imagine that you’re one of those writers. Imagine that you’re a church leader in early Christian times trying to rev up your congregation after Jesus’ passing. You’ve decided that you need to craft an amazing story about the most glorious event that you’re claiming occurred in Jesus’ life: His resurrection and the discovery of His empty tomb. Who should make that discovery, in this novel you’re contriving? Peter the rock? John the loved one? Matthew the reformed tax collector? Certainly, the person who discovers the open tomb should be one of the male apostles. Someone with credibility. Someone people respect. You need people to believe this story you’re crafting. But instead of writing something you know would influence and motivate the people, you do the unthinkable. You choose a woman, Mary Magdalene, who was cursed by multiple demons at an earlier point in her life, along with other women, to make the most important discovery in the Bible. Of course, you realize that by choosing her, people will doubt your story. Your story will have no merit in the male-dominated world of Jesus’ time. Women were second class citizens then. They were treated similarly to the way some are treated in parts of the Arab world today, where they are prevented from getting an education and required to wear Niqabs and Burkas that cover their bodies from head to toe. In Saudi Arabia, women still aren’t allowed to drive cars, and in many Muslim countries in the region, being stoned for adultery still happens. Would you choose women of such status?”
“Never thought about that,” Cherie said.
“And to your point on whether the church leaders wrote those passages for influence, think about this. For the first 300 years of Christianity, Christians were imprisoned and killed for simply being Christians under a variety of Roman rulers. Nero was one of the worst. About thirty years after Jesus’ resurrection, Nero blamed Christians for burning Rome and used that as justification for outlawing Christianity. He entertained himself by feeding Christians to hungry dogs and crucifying them and setting their bodies aflame. The only way to save themselves from such persecutions was to make a pagan sacrifice and deny Jesus. Thousands instead chose to endure brutal deaths, keeping their eyes on the unseen prize, heaven. The apostles and the five hundred people who saw Jesus alive after His death must have been very convincing to those early Christian martyrs who gave their lives for the cause. It wasn’t until the Roman Emperor Constantine had a vision of a cross in 312 A.D. and converted to Christianity that the doors were opened to Christians to worship legally.”
“Hmm. Well, Muslims die for their faith too.”
“But their inspiration is different. The Quran contains at least 109 verses that call believers to war, or jihad, against nonbelievers. And ever since Muhammad died in 632 A.D., they have been going to war, motivated both by their religion and to acquire land. Early Muslims were warriors and conquerors, not peace-keepers and the conquered, as the early Christians were. The Muslim religion was used as a tool to gain power. Jesus warned against war when He said that ‘those who live by the sword will die by the sword’ in the Book of Matthew. Think about it. Why would a God who loves all of His children tell some of them that a surefire way to get to Him is to murder those who don’t yet believe in Him? Don’t you think that God would rather give His children who don’t believe in Him more time on earth to seek and find Him?”
“Nick, you’ve given me a lot to think about,” she said softly as she nodded her head. “But I still can’t help but think that the Bible and the story of Jesus is either a beautiful story, or a tool for control. Religion has controlled people for centuries and leaders use religion to quell the masses. Look at all of the awful things happening around the world because of religion.”
“Cherie, if the story of Jesus were crafted for control, then one would need to prove the early church leaders were gleaning power by controlling the masses with the story. Instead, the early church leaders had no legitimacy. They were hunted and killed for their beliefs instead of deriving some sort of earthly physical benefit from believing. They had no power. No glory. No churches. Moreover, the people who followed the early Christian leaders weren’t being controlled. In fact, the governing leaders determined that the early Christians were out of control. That’s why they imprisoned, beat, and killed them. They feared the Christians would rile the masses away from their means of control, which at the time were Paganism and Roman laws.”
“But in later years, the church gained power and Christians murdered Jews during the religious crusades,” Cherie said.
“That’s true, but that shouldn’t discount the first 300 years of Christianity, when no Christians had power and still risked their lives for the cause. I’m not saying that the church never had control and has never used its power to influence people. The church has had much power since legalized and sometimes that power has been used in the wrong ways. But in the early years, the church didn’t have power. Christians had to practice in secret. So discounting the legitimacy of Jesus’ story by saying that people created the story for control doesn’t make sense.”
Cherie sighed. “I don’t know why they don’t talk about this kind of stuff in the church. More people would believe.”
Chase strolled up and took his seat next to Cherie. “What stuff?”
“Christianity,” Nick answered.
“Oh. Ugh. Feel free to stop talking,” Chase said as he shook his head. He looked at Nick in a cocky way and said, “You know, babies are atheists. They have to be taught religion. We would all be atheists if parents didn’t teach their kids about religion.”
“C’mon Chase,” Nick smirked. “Humans are also taught to read and write. Should we stop that too?”
“No, that stuff is important.”
The band leader took the microphone and announced they would be singing their last song of the night, Tim McGraw’s “Live like You Were Dying.”
Love Warriors. Piper turned to Nick and whispered, “Great work, my love. Very convincing.”
“Thanks Piper.”
Bob and Betty strolled into the bar around 9:30 p.m. and made their way to the high top table where the others were sitting. “Hey guys,” he said as he grabbed two bar stools from a nearby table and sat down, offering the second chair to Betty. She sat down next to him and made herself comfortable.
“Was wondering when you would show up,” Chase said.
Bob then tucked some chewing tobacco into his bottom lip and asked, “So, anyone up for a shot?” He signaled the server with a wave of his hand.
How annoying. No one needs shots. Piper looked around the table and was pleased to see everyone had ignored the question. Well, almost everyone. Betty wanted a shot. Must have a hollow leg. Definitely Bob’s soulmate.
“I got news for you guys. I’m in love. Today I fell in love with this lovely lady,” Bob said as he put his arm around Betty and pulled her closer to him. “She can hang with the guys, man. She’s just like us!” He smiled as he shook his head in affirmation, exposing a small piece of chewing tobacco stuck between two teeth.
Betty put her arm around Bob and grinned in a somewhat awkward way. It was clear the two had been drinking all day long as her eyes were hanging at half-mast. Not a pretty scene.
“That’s cool. Finally, a girl for you. A girl!” Chase mocked.
“Oh Chase. C’mon. Be nice,” Cherie said.
Piper felt the urge to say something, yet resisted. Chase’s comment was demeaning, though, and it added to her negative feelings about him. Bob wasn’t a bad guy. Sure, he was a drunk, but he never had a bad thing to say about anyone. He didn’t deserve that one in front of his new girlfriend. She looked back over at Betty who was still wearing a messy sort of smile. Her hair was disheveled and her eye makeup was smeared under her eyes. Probably didn’t even hear the insult, Piper figured, as she was in her own little world.
“You’re a good guy, Bob,” Nick added. “It’s good to see you’ve met your match. I know you have been very selective in your travels.”
Piper smiled. Nick always knew the right thing to say, even if not completely truthful.
Bob ignored the comments and reverted to slope talk. “Well, we lost you guys on Rambo. We found a path through the trees and onto an even better slope. It was amazing. Epic. You’ll want to try it tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” Nick said. “We’ll try it out. Was it steep? Moguls?”
“No moguls but definitely steep,” Bob said.
“Cool,” Piper said.
“Blue or black?” Chase asked.
“Double black diamond I’m sure. We tore it up!” Bob said.
“Double black? C’mon Bob. No way,” Chase scolded.
“Well, maybe not double black. Or black. Maybe blue. Or sort of teal,” Bob said.
“Just keeping it real, buddy,” Chase said.
“I got your real,” Bob replied before belting out an extended burp.
“Impressive. Very impressive, Bob. You always have the perfect way to express yourself. Hey, has anyone seen my sister tonight? Or Flypaper?”
“Nope,” Nick said.
Bob chuckled before gulping down a swig of beer from his mug. Then he spit some of his chew into an empty water bottle and said, “We saw them earlier at the Wooden Nickel. Lost ‘em after that. Looked really chummy together, Chase. Really chummy. Wink wink. Nudge nudge.”
Chase shook his head. “Disgusting.”
Piper could barely contain her laughter. Watching Chase get angry about his sister’s romantic pursuits was sort of fun.
***
Nick darted ahead of Piper as they approached the breakfast café the next morning to grab the door and open it for her.
“My lady.”
“Thank you, Nick,” she said. “I’ll bet Chase doesn’t open doors like that for Cherie. He may bring flowers, but you’re the true gentleman.”
“No need to compare me with Chase, my lady. We can both be gentlemen.”
The savory scent of fried bacon penetrated her senses as she and Nick walked up to the hostess at the front desk. Tables made of pine filled the window-less room, along with ferns, moose-heads, and padded wooden chairs.
“Table for two,” Nick said.
“Follow me,” the hostess replied as she led them past throngs of fellow patrons to a table by the all-you-can-eat breakfast bar. “Your server will be right with you. Feel free to get a plate at the breakfast bar, if that’s what you want.”
“Thanks,” Piper said.
The restaurant was populated with skiers and snowboarders who would be hitting the slopes after the chairlifts opened at 9 a.m. Piper and Nick were lucky to have gotten a table at that busy time.
They filled their plates with fruit, bacon, and eggs, before returning to their table to eat. Piper observed a young family of Texans seated at the table next to them. Or so she assumed to be Texans. Cowboy ski hats were by their sides and she heard Southern drawls and a few hearty laughs. They had Texas-sized passions for life. Texans had a way of making Piper smile.
She spotted Flypaper heading towards them, wearing his ski overalls, clunky ski boots, and a thick aquamarine-colored sweater. He wore a big grin.
“What a perfect coincidence! Can I join you?” He asked.
“Of course,” Nick responded. Piper wondered where Kat was and whether Flypaper’s mission had been successful. She found Chase’s protectiveness of his sister to be amusing.
“We missed you last night,” she said.
“Yeah, I went with Kat to the Wooden Nickle for a few mango margaritas. She’s quite a lady. Could be a keeper. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like her. Liked the Wooden Nickle too. Great music. Good atmosphere. Dancing. We should all hit the Wooden Nickle tonight or tomorrow for something a little different. I’m getting a little tired of the Rooster.”
“That works for me,” Nick said.
“Me too,” Piper added. She wondered where Kat was now, given the fact Flypaper was interested in her. She took a few more bites of her food before she asked, “So, where’s Kat today?”
“Probably getting ready to hit the slopes. I texted her when I got up, but she hasn’t answered yet. Maybe still sleeping. Don’t know.”
Wow. Finally a challenge!
“Do you want to hit the slopes with us after breakfast?” Nick asked.
“That sounds good. But I don’t want to steal your special moments with Piper. Let me know when you want me to take off. I can always snowboard solo.”
***
The question was asked a few hours later while Piper was sitting next to Nick and across from Chase and Flypaper at an outside picnic table at the Lionshead restaurant, which was mid-way up the mountain off the Chute ski run. Chase probably had waited for the perfect moment to ask the question, which was when Cherie wasn’t by his side. She had gone into the restaurant to use the ladies’ room.
“So, what’s with the Bible thumping? Cherie liked whatever you said to her about God.”
“Really, that’s excellent!” Nick responded.
“No, not excellent,” Chase added, in a voice slightly louder than a whisper. “I hardly want a Bible-thumping wife or Bible-thumping kids. C’mon guys. What are you doing to me? I’m already taking a risk with her Baptist parents.”
“Yeah, I know her mom. She’s on the advisory board of the Collins Foster Home. Nice lady,” Piper said.
“I know her too. You’re marrying into a good family Chase. So, what’s your problem with the Bible?” Nick asked.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he answered sarcastically. “Maybe just the fact it’s over 2,000 years old and is way outdated. It’s not at all relevant today.”
Chase’s nostrils were flared. The topic was obviously one that ignited his anger. Given the importance of the topic, however, she persisted. “Someone said you don’t believe in God. Is that true?”
“God?” Chase said in a low tone while looking at the door of the Lionshead, perhaps checking to see if Cherie was on her way back to the table. “God is a cliché. Just a cliché to make us feel good. The gods have been making us feel good for centuries. Odin, Vishnu, Mishra, Zeus, Thor…who am I missing?”
“Jesus. You’re missing Jesus,” Piper answered.
“Oh, yeah, and I also missed Allah, the Muslim God. Muslims, Christians, and Jews all believe in one god. The same god. Right?” Chase said.
“No. Christians believe in the Holy Trinity, with the Father, the Son Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Muslims believe Jesus was a prophet, while Jews believe Jesus was a false Messiah. The Christian Father called Jesus His Son. He didn’t call Him a prophet. His Son fulfilled the prophecies of those who were prophets, like Isaiah and Zechariah.”
“Well, I have to admit the Bible is good fiction,” Chase responded.
“Chase, I’m surprised you don’t believe in God,” Flypaper said as he shook his head. “That’s sad.”
“Are you religious, Juan?” Piper asked, feeling a genuine sense of surprise.
“I wouldn’t say religious, but I believe in Jesus. My family’s Catholic. They call me the Chreaster cuz I only go to church on Christmas and Easter.”
“That’s funny. Chreaster. Never heard that one before,” Chase said.
“Yeah, I should probably go more. I guess. Maybe I will, when I get old and have nothing left to live for. Right now, I’m living the dream, baby!” Flypaper chuckled.
Nick smiled. “We’re all living the dream. Look around this place, man. All you see are mountains, blankets of snow, pine trees, and blue skies.”
“So true,” Flypaper responded. “It’s beautiful here.”
Piper slowly stirred her broccoli cheese soup as she gazed over at Chase, wondering how he had become so adversarial towards God. Had something bad happened to him, causing him to turn away from God? He attacked his hamburger with the passion of a hungry homeless man, making her think he was in a rush to finish his lunch and get away from the conversation. The shadowy forms circled over him, as if waiting to pounce.
A couple of minutes passed in an uncomfortable silence before Piper mustered up the courage to say something more. Something told her she shouldn’t let it go. That little voice in the back of her mind was giving her advice again.
“So, why don’t you believe?”
“Piper, I don’t like debates with theists. I need to keep my sanity.”
“I’m not debating you, Chase. Just asking a question.”
“Well, put it this way. If there were a god, I’d still have my dad. It’s that simple. What happened to him would have never happened. And I was just ten when it did.”
“What happened?”
“He was murdered. Robbed, beaten, and shot by some dirt bag who had escaped from prison. And he was the best dad in the world. He always said that he ‘walked in the way of the Lord.’ What did the Lord do for him? To top it off, my mom married a total fool after he died.” Chase’s eyes welled up and he quickly brushed off the tears.
“Why do horrible things always happen to good people? Why not evil people?”
“Oh gosh,” Piper said. “I’m so sorry to hear about your dad. I lost my mom to cancer. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about her. At least I can rest assured knowing she’s in heaven.”
“How do you know that?” He stammered. “How do you know she’s in heaven?”
“Because I believe.”
Chase looked at her as he took a long sip of his soda. “Why would you believe in a god who took your mom away at an early age?”
“Because I know my mom served her purpose. And I know that one day I’ll be reunited with her after I serve my purpose.”
“Of course you’ll be reunited. Reunited in pine boxes in a grave yard,” Chase said. “Sorry to say that. The truth hurts. We’ll all be in pine boxes one day, or cremated. That’s what your god has in store for us. Some god.”
Cherie returned and took her place at the table next to Chase.
“Chase,” Nick started, “would you be willing to forgive your dad’s murderer?
“Hell n