Pot roast and Facebook

The house smelt divine. He walked straight from the door to the kitchen sniffing of the air. She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his back. “I thought you were going to spank me for not eating lunch?” He said playfully.

“Oh, I gave it serious consideration. But I felt like you wouldn’t be able to handle it, not have eaten and all.”

His stomach gave a loud growl. “So what are you going to do for Lent?”

She let him go and pulled the pot roast and cornbread from the oven. “I’m going to do a gratitude journal. I have a lot to be thankful for but I don’t give God near enough credit.”

“What have you done in the past?” He sliced the roast while she cut the cornbread.

“I’ve tried giving up caffeine. I failed miserably on that one. I’ve given up chocolate, candy. I read the Bible through one year and I started during Lent.”

As they sat down to eat, they continued to talk. “There is so little that I can eat, giving up something associated with food seems counterproductive.”

“One year I gave up cussing.”

He gave a sly grin. “You cuss?”

“Oh yeah, a sailor taught me how.”

“This is really good.” He moaned taking a bite of the roast.

She smiled, “thanks.” He seemed lost in another world to her as he ate his dinner. “Honey, are you okay?”

“Two girls got arrested today. One got on Facebook and called the other girl all kinds of horrible things. So the second girl confronted her about it. She had printed off ten pages of things the girl had said about her. The girl that did the name calling pushed the other girl into the lockers and it was on. There was blood and hair everywhere. I even stepped on a tooth.”

“Wow!”

“I hate Facebook. I don’t understand what people get out of it.” She smiled. “What?” He questioned.

“One of my jobs was trolling Facebook. You would be amazed at what people said thinking that it is private.”

“You don’t have a Facebook account do you?”

“I did a long time ago. But six out of ten times that I had to go to court, it was Facebook related. Suzie reconnected with her old boyfriend from high school and fell madly in love. She left her husband and three children high and dry because she couldn’t live without Mark. Jim had an affair on his wife and she found out about it from his Facebook page. He hasn’t been happy in a long time so he went looking for that happiness.” She rolled her eyes. “Indeed. One of the worst domestic violence cases I ever worked was over Facebook.”

“How so?”

“This man found himself an internet woman on Facebook. When his wife found that he was not only married to her but was married to three other women in three states, she just about killed him. She made Loraine Bobbit look tame by comparison.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow.

Lent

Oscar stood in the teacher’s lounge staring out the window. Instead of eating lunch, he gave serious consideration to taking a nap. He calculated in his head how long it would take to walk out to his SUV, and the time it would take to get back. What a day. His phone chimed. It was Esther.

“Hi,” he answered.

“Hey honey, what’s wrong?”

“Just tired.”

“I honestly thought I would get your voice mail. Today is Fat Tuesday and I was wondering if there was anything special you wanted for dinner?”

He was confused, “why?”

“Well, Fat Tuesday is the day before Lent starts. I have always pigged out on Fat Tuesday.”

“Really, why?”

“I always do something for Lent.”

“I thought that was a Catholic tradition.”

“It is. But what could be wrong with me practicing something that isn’t going to hurt anyone and has the potential of improving my relationship with God?”

“Point taken.”

“There must be people around.” He could hear her smile.

“Yes.”

She giggled, “Oh, I could do all kinds of mean things to you.”

“You are familiar with that old saying about payback?”

As she laughed, he couldn’t contain his smile. “What about a pot roast if I don’t use any savory seasoning?

“That’s what makes them good.” There was a pause.

“What are you eating for lunch?”

“Nothing.”

“I think that deserves a spankin’.” He got all choked up over that one. “I can just picture it now, all the people that are around you are lookin’ at you wondering what this conversation is all about.”

“I’m not even going to find out.”

“Do you love them that much?”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, you’re so cryptic.”

A bell rang in the background, “I’ve gotta go.”

“What about dinner?”

“Your idea sounds terrific.”

“Which one she giggled?”

“Both.”

“Oscar?”

“Hmm.”

“I hope you have a better afternoon than you did morning.”

“I love you.”

She giggled, “that raised a few eyebrows. I love you.”

She was right about that, he could feel people staring at him as he walked from the room.

Cast the first stone

Esther threw her head back laughing, “let he that is without sin cast the first stone.”

“I beg your pardon.” Brother Evan looked shocked.

“Beg all you want. So tell me how’s Brother Joel?” Brother Evan turned pale at the mention of the man’s name.

“I’m afraid I don’t know whom you are referring too.”

“Oh no, does the name Clair Morrison ring a bell?”

With a forced cough, he cleared his throat. “God has forgiven me for that.”

“Well God be praised. He may have but did you ever ask her for forgiveness? Did you ever ask my grandpa for forgiveness? He went to his grave wanting to kill you.” Brother Evan’s eyes grew wide. “Did you know I was playing under the sink?”

Oscar was in awe of the transformation that was taking place in Brother Evan’s body language. When he first walked through the door, he was so sure he had arrived at this house to bust a sinner. But he wasn’t so confident now that his sins had followed him.

His face turned bright red, “it’s a sin. There was no one there to witness to. No one there to forgive him. He is rotting in hell.”

“Who are you to judge?! How do you know the conversation that he had with God before or maybe even after? Do you know if he was able to live thirty seconds, a minute after he pulled the trigger? You know nothing!”

Brother Evan said not a word. “It is a sin,” he whispered.

“No one is disputing that.” Esther screamed. “But what authority gives you the unmediated gol to say that he is going to hell?!”

“God.”

“Did God whisper in your ear and tell you point blank that my dad is in hell washing the feet of Satan?”

“Well no, but the Bible is our guide to what is right and wrong?”

“You bastard. How dare you? My gram and pap went to their graves grieving over their son. Where were you? Their spiritual leader. Where were you?”

Oscar stood, “you need to leave.”

Brother Evan left the house, jumped in his truck, and squealed his tires as he peeled out of Oscar’s drive way.

“What just happened here?” Oscar asked.

“Piece of trash,” Esther said flatly.

He rubbed her shoulders, she was shaking. He held her as long as she needed him to.

As they sat at the table, Oscar was dying to ask her. So he finally did, “Esther, finish the story.”

She looked up from her picked at plate. He reached for her hand and she took it. “Brother Evan came over to the house one Saturday afternoon. He made sure Pap was gone when he came over. He talked to my Gram like a dog, telling her that what dad did was a sin and that he was going to hell; not only for killing himself but because he placed the burden of raising me on them. I found out in my later years how much guilt Gram and Pap felt for not being able to reach out to their son or try to help him get the help that he needed. But then to have a man of God tell them that the son they loved and cared about had no hope was just cruel. Even if it is true, and he can’t go to heaven, why would you tell grieving parents that?”

“And you were playing under the sink?” 

“Yeah, I liked being in the dark. It was calming to me. Still is at times.” She smiled.

“Haven’t you noticed how dark my bedroom is?” She cleared her throat. “I snuck out and went to find Pap, he wasn’t far.”

“Who was Brother Joel?”

“Oh, he was a deacon at the church who fought tooth and nail for Evan. He had done no wrong. There could be no wrong in doing the will of God, for telling the holy truth.”

“This is why you don’t like organized religion?”

“In a nut shell.”

“Wow. I’m so sorry, Ess.” He guided her onto his lap and held her.

“We lived in a small town and my grandparents were well liked. Everyone knew what had happened to my dad and grieved with them.”