"It's a job, like anything else," Obi said rather sharply. "Just because a man has Father in front of his name, doesn't make him less interesting."
"But it makes him an pawn in the great machine, which is organized religion," Eagle said.
"Excuse me?" Hester bridled at that remark.
"Admit it," Eagle said, talking over his mother. "You both believe the limited dogma you learned at seminary, not the way life really is."
"Explain how life really is," Obi said in a low voice. His tone was deep, dangerous. "No, I'll explain it, from my limited, dogmatic education."
Prescott started to protest, but Obi held up his hand to stop him.
"Let him, Dad," Clive said calmly. "I wanna hear this."
"Go for it, Bro," Eagle said, his attitude more confrontational. Even Sarah's hand on his arm, didn't settle him down.
"Life is full of pain," Obi said softly. "We're born from pain, we grow and live with our pain. Sometimes, it's worse than others. God can alleviate that pain—"
"You mean if you're strong enough, your body and mind do it for you," Eagle interrupted.
"I mean—" Obi inhaled deeply, slowly. "I mean, if you fully rely on God, put your faith in Him, trust and believe, your journey is easier. Your load is lighter. People need to believe in something outside themselves."
"What if I said I don't want to believe in God?" Eagle said, jutting his jaw defiantly.
"My reply would be—I hope you find something to believe in. Because it's pretty dark and cold out there, without faith."
"What if I want to be a Buddhist? A Hindu? Are you going to tell me those are false gods?" his voice grew louder, angrier.
Sarah's face was pale, her eyes wide. This was a side of Eagle she'd never seen.
"If that's what makes you happy, fills you with joy and peace – go for it."
"All those false gods? That doesn't bother you?"
"God has many faces. The Christian God is the same one that Muslims and Jews worship – each with a different name. The Hindu gods are manifestations of aspects of God, which we put under a Trinity umbrella. Their gods are separate personalities, but the power comes from the same place."
"What if I condemn your God as a fake?" He stood, challenging his brother.
"Eric!" his mother gasped.
"You're entitled to believe that," Obi replied, also standing. "And if you really feel that way, Eric, I'll pray for you." Dropping his napkin by his plate, he turned to go.
"You're just going to walk away?" Eric yelled as Obi's hand touched the kitchen door.
Pressing his lips together, Obi inhaled deeply. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his brother vibrating with anger. The family looked horrified.
"I love you, Eric. You're my brother. Say what you want, do what you want. But I'm not going to listen to it in my house. In deference to our mother, I'm not making you leave. I'm also not listening to you another second, or I'll lose my temper." Squaring his shoulders, he felt the anger bubble up like lava. Unable to stop it, he let it flow over. "You've been so coddled, sheltered. You've never been pinned down to this thing, or that. You've been free to explore and find yourself—that's great!" His voice rose in anger. "The rest of us—we've all got jobs. Whether we like them or not—that's immaterial. We're doing the best we can. For some of us, that's dependent upon our faith. A faith that people died to protect. A faith that put food on our table, a roof over our heads, and gave us a loving family. You can belittle what you want, but I won't have you do that in front of our parents. Mom, I apologize, but I have to get out of here before I say something I'll be really sorry for."
Grabbing his wallet and keys, he headed toward the front door. The kitchen exploded with noise behind him, but he didn't care. When he reached into the coat closet for a jacket, he heard someone behind him. Turning, he saw Wynter.
"May I join you?"
"Of course." He held the door open for her.
"You shouldn't drive."
"I'm all right. No pain pills for hours, and my shoulder feels fine."
"Still...I can—"
"Thanks, I've got it."
"Where did you want to go?"
"Anywhere but here."
Nodding, she got in the car. Taking a deep breath, Obi started the car. He had no idea where he was going, deciding to let the spirit guide him.
"I'm sure he didn't mean all that," Wynter said as they drove slowly down his street.
"Yes, he did. It's been coming for a while. Ever since he changed his name to Eagle, and started exploring," he made air quotes, "I knew he'd hit me with it one day."
"How did you know?"
"Sixth sense? I'm not sure, I just did. Maybe it's having our folks here. He feels threatened by our beliefs."
"Why?"
"He doesn't share them. He never has, really. I'm not sure what made him so cynical, but I pray he'll get over himself soon. But I'm not holding my breath."
He turned up the interstate on-ramp. Speeding up, he entered the steady stream of traffic without a care. Cars whizzed by on their left. Checking traffic, he moved left to the second lane. A destination now in mind, he sped up.
"Where are we going?"
He smiled, cutting his eyes at her a second. "You'll see when we get there."
"You're being very mysterious, Father Randolph."
"Obi. Please. When we're together, I'm not Father."
She inclined her head, accepting that. "You're still being mysterious."
"There's some beautiful country around here. I thought you might like to see something other than the city.
"I would, very much."
"Very well."
©Dellani Oakes 2023
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