This is Culturally Inappropriate

In a drawing room in Wilmington, Delaware, with lights brought down low, a man the color of cherrywood sat in a chair with his legs crossed. He looked like an aristocrat and a day laborer, if that was at all possible. Another man who looked like a manila envelope, sat adjacent to him. He had the presence of a warden and a shady record company executive. He scribbled in a digital notepad. He wore a black suit with a white shirt with pinstripes and a tie that looked like the keys on a piano. He wore black and white Brogue Oxford shoes. The other man, Mackford, also wore formal attire. A green cardigan sweater, tan shirt and slacks of camel color and a green tie adorned the man. He wore brown patent leather shoes. He sat with his chin slightly canted.

“So you say He doesn’t exist?” The other man, Caldwell, with the digital notepad, asked the question. His head dropped a few inches but his posture remained rail straight. He spoke with a sing-song kind of cadence that bordered on condescension.

“I’m saying that,” Mackford replied. He remained in the same sitting position when he said this in an even tone. A quick glance at Caldwell permitted him the opportunity to size up his competition. They both stood at six foot upon getting up from their seats. They remained in place, however.

“Do you have proof?”Caldwell asked with a sense of earnestness.

“Do you?!” Mackford asked pointedly.

“This is quite a pressing matter, Mr. Mackford. I’m serious.” Caldwell’s eyes attempted to bore into Mackford’s soul. He failed in this regard.

“I’m as serious as colorectal cancer.” Mackford mentioned this with severity. The gravitas shook Caldwell a bit.

“So all of this just happened? This just sprang into the world, the universe, everything which you say took place?” Caldwell questioned.

“No, it didn’t happen, it exists,” Mackford explained.

“But you can’t say that. Everything that is and will ever come originates from a singular source. From Him. That’s something that is up to Him. We must be guided by His sense of reality. We must be thought of as the products of an ingenious mind that goes well beyond our comprehension. That is His power. We must be called to recognize how excellent He is. There is no one before Him, no one after Him. He is all in all. We’re all His children. Even you Mr. Mackford. His amazing grace is in our lives. That is the key and the source of all greatness. So, you can’t say that,” Caldwell reminded Mackford. There existed a smoothness in both men’s tone of voice. They hardly spoke above a whisper to each other, though their thoughts had been so opposed.

“Why not? He doesn’t exist. I just said it, and I mean it,” Mackford’s evenness became a thorn in Caldwell’s side. He wanted to break him. He wanted to see him grovel and sully his elegant clothes.

“Why should you say that when He made you? You should rejoice in the fact that He loves you and keeps you. He is the one that wakes you up in the morning and puts you in the correct consciousness. He gives the activity of your limbs. You should be shouting ‘hallelujah’ every chance you get. All that you do consists of his allowance. It is only his will that you are even alive right now. Everything that you deny about Him is the answer to your burning questions. That you question is your main flaw. He kept you in the cradle of His arm at the beginning of the universe. Then, he released you, forty-two years ago.”

“Yes, I’m forty-two.”

“Forty-two years ago He decided to bring you onto this Earth. By being the benevolent Father that He is, we can only say that He kept you safe from harm during your battles in the military. He kept your family before most of them were rounded up for the blasphemy you preach. His choice marked the beginning of your journey where you should’ve been praising Him. You should be on your knees, with a tear-stained face. The past was when what you are saying wasn’t punishable by law. And you’re a philosopher. Who allows you to have such ideas, to say that He never was there at all?”

“I do.”

“But you must acknowledge the fact that He is there. In every rising of the sun to the extinguishing of it at the end of the day, He is worthy of every instance of our praise. He allows you to think such backward thoughts. I’m talking and sitting here because of Him. And you must realize there’s a greater, smarter power than you….”

“Look at the basic ideas of your assumptions and then try again,” The coolness of Mackford’s reply chilled Caldwell. He struggled to regroup and go on with the questioning.

“It’s…I mean…there has to be someone who created all of this…all of this wonder that surrounds us comes from a central source. That’s Him,” Caldwell replied, he slumped in the slightest way.

“It’s not creation but the axiom that what is simply is.” Mackford continued to straighten his well-pressed clothes. He looked about the room and found the low light still shined on the chair and the table in front of Caldwell. A metallic clang from the side caught his attention.

“And He never lifted a finger? He never did any work to craft the heavens and oceans, the flora and fauna and man?” Caldwell asked. A sense of desperation pervaded his language. In his way of asking questions, he felt that he had lost a bit of ground.

“Who said this figure even had fingers?” Mackford shot back.

Caldwell looked like a peacock, proud and proper again. He sat erect and with a particular sense that he had superiority over Mackford. “You know I’m your last line before going to prison. By saying you’re for ‘reality’ and ‘existence,’ you make it difficult to understand your plight. Only He can have mercy on your mortal soul. If you were to live in a world not knowing Him, that would be the worst thing that could possibly happen to you. There are billions of people who believe. Why can’t you be among them? Why can’t you be more like Him? It is against the laws of man to say that He never existed. It’s for good reason. He lives.” Caldwell drank from a glass of water. Actually, he gulped the water in response to Mackford’s curt responses.

“Okay, if something lives, it must have some physical properties. What are His physical properties?” Mackford queried.

Caldwell looked at Mackford suspiciously but with the same boisterous air as before. He shifted in his seat.

Mackford continued, “So, if you say that something is real and physical and of nature, why must you continue to have faith? Why must you always find some way to go around the idea that in order to be real. you have to be on the opposite of that idea?” Mackford straightened his tie which looked like an alligator about to come ashore on his beach colored shirt.

“Mr. Mackford, you’re pushing it. I’m trying to keep you out of jail. Now, you have the option of going out of here as a free man. If you continue down this road then you’re going to get used to washing your face from the same hunk of metal you dispose of waste with,” Caldwell sighed. He poked his chest out some more. Mackford noticed and smoothed out his clothes and yawned.

“I know you’re supposed to get in my head and change things around like chairs on a cruising ship, not a sinking one. My mind is moving freely. Lock my body. My thoughts will never be chained.”

A laughter rattled in Caldwell’s throat. It sounded almost like a ball in a spray can. He nodded. “Okay, so you’ve made up your mind to be institutionalized…?”

“Not at all. I’m saying I’ll never make the decision to side with unreason. I’m equipped with a functioning brain that permits me no excursions into worshipping the supernatural,” Mackford outlined.

The clock on the wall read eight fifty-seven. “You’ve got three minutes to change your mind, Mack’,” Caldwell sighed again. For no reason he looked at his watch.

“Okay, so I indoctrinate myself. I say that He is there. That He’s always been there. That’s the problem I have with these proceedings. If I make the decision to go against reason, I will have no recourse than to die. I’d rather be gassed, hanged, put before a firing squad, electrocuted, or put on the table for lethal injection than to say there is some force beyond the bounds of existence that set the universe in motion.” Mackford put one leg on the other and placed his hands atop his knee.

“You will spend the rest of your days confined to a cell….”

“That’s right.” A sincere grin found its way onto Mackford’s face.

A minute ticked away. Zero hour approached. “Alright,” Caldwell acknowledged. “Your time has run out.” He motioned to the men at the door with cuffs and chains.

“Wait….” Mackford mentioned.

“Do we have a change of heart?”

“No, it’s a possible change of mind. What, exactly, does all of this entail?”

With the question, Caldwell showed to the guards that there would be over time.

“Well, here on Earth, you will be freed from backbreaking, mindnumbing, soulcrushing hard labor in the fields of grass. Conversely, you will be afforded many amenities including housing, transportation, access to companionship, and other bonuses. It’s your choice.”

“I know this is culturally inappropriate, but damn all of what you just said. Chain me. Lock me up if you must. I refuse to lower my station to obtain what you have in store for me. I’ ready for whatever.”

The guardsmen advanced into the room. Mackford stood. The heavy clank of the chains sounded like bells ringing out of tune. Caldwell came from around his table. He signaled for the men to retreat and to take their rattling chains with them.

“You must know that this was all an experiment, Mr. Mackford,” Caldwell smiled. “These men were nothing but orderlies from the local psychiatric ward. Had you given up your position, we would have imprisoned you. Since you remained resolute, we’re going to let you go.”

Mackford’s face looked like the side of a mountain, cold and hard. Its austerity made Caldwell smile as if he had bitten into a raw piece of flesh.

“I’m not going to jail even though it is still illegal to think what I do?” Mackford asked with a hint of curiosity creeping into his voice.

“That’s right. Your confession of disbelief registers as someone of honesty and great virtue. You may not believe in Him, but He recognizes this kind of behavior and sees it as exemplary.”

Mackford’s fists remained along his trouser seams. It was like he had gained an inch in height and a bit of power in his body.

Caldwell spoke again. “You are a man who can go about the world as a nonbeliever. For this, you will be shunned, cast down, and ridiculed. This, however, will be better for you as someone who has enough integrity to keep his back straight and his mind focused on ideas. They are false ideas, but you will find that even the most basic thoughts have a place in this ‘existence’ as you like to say.”

Mackford relaxed. He turned to the men going down a hallway. The jangling chains began to fade away with every step. “So, may I leave now?”

“Yes, you may go, but first sign this tablet.” Caldwell handed Mackford a stylus. Mackford took hold of the device and signed his name under a bunch of legalese and slammed down the stylus. He pressed down his tie. He then executed an about face and exited from the drawing room.