I Am The Local Atheist (14 page)

Christie’s
face lost all expression. “What?”

“
He’s not a Christian.”

“
He’s not a Christian?”

“
No. What made you think he was?”

“
What makes you think he isn’t?”

“
Have you ever noticed that when he talks to you he never
mentions God (unless he’s purposely trying to argue the opposite
point with you), never talks about Jesus – even as a reference
point – never uses any religious thought that could ever be
construed as having faith in God?”

“
Everyone has their own private faith. Some people don’t like
to bring attention to theirs.”

“
Has he ever attended a Sunday service?”

“
Lieutenants Jo and Mack hardly ever turn up!”

“
But they still turn up. Lucas has never been to church for a
service as long as I’ve known him.” Alice looked at me. “What do
you think David? How long have you known him for?”

“
Probably not as long as you, but he’s made it pretty clear to
me that he’s no Christian.”

“
Well I’ll be,” Christie said in astonishment. “Still, that
doesn’t mean he isn’t convertible. I know several people who got
married to Christians and were converted later on down the
track.”

“
Well, I’d be impressed,” Alice said, “if love drove the two of
you together and you managed to convert him.”

“
With God on your side, anything is possible.”

“
Amen,” Alice said.

I felt my lips
begin to part in an attempt to agree with them, but only empty air
came out.

Part VII

–
Paid work
–

I had made up
my mind: Volunteer work was not doing me any good. I just couldn’t
get over the fact that I wasn’t being paid for it. And it wasn’t
even that in the end. Apart from genuinely smiling and enjoying
myself for the first time in a very long time (outside of playing
video games), Charge Up was only bringing back memories of Youth
Group, where I had once – somewhere in my distant past it seemed
sometimes – been a part of the lives of teenagers and helping them
to come to terms with the conflicting world around them; but that
was now starting to weigh heavily on my mind again. And I
desperately wanted to forget something that I had cared so much
about, but had been taken off my hands for someone else’s ideas of
what was and wasn’t appropriate.

I really
wasn’t getting anything out of the jobs either, at least, not in
the way Lucas seemed to be getting something out of them. He had
made it absolutely clear that he was no Christian, yet everything
he did had the same spirit that I had seen in the people that I had
always looked up to. He said he did it for himself, but everything
he was doing also made good in the world. I found that strange,
because the self centredness that Lucas talked about and lived by
was the sort that I had been taught was anathema, was how evil
wormed its way into your soul. I saw no evil in Lucas, at least
none that manifested itself with immediate consequences. Guess I
would have to wait and see.

I resolved to go back to living life in front of the computer
screen but was interrupted by a severe phonecall from Work &
Income stating that I was being taken off the benefit due to not
following through with the follow up meetings that I was required
by law to do on a regular basis while receiving a benefit. I tried
explaining that I had been doing volunteer work and that that was
taking up most of my time.
Surely
that should count for something, but it just
didn’t seem to impress the person on the phone. “You have been
unemployed without any valid reason for far too long now and you
have a choice: sign up for more education, or find a job! Either
way your unemployment benefit will be withdrawn two weeks from now.
A letter will be mailed out to you as an official reminder and
statement.” She hung up.

Rude
, I thought.

Tinsdale
looked over at me from the couch. “Who was that?”

“
Work and Income.”

“
Bastards.”

“
Yeah. I’m being taken off the dole.”

“
I know someone who works at the Freezing Works if you want me
to call him. You can earn big wads of money, dude – might lose a
finger or two though, haha.”

Parts of that
sentence were tempting, other parts not so much. “Might have to get
back to you on that one.”

“
Sure. Well, wanna earn some easy dosh in the
meantime?”

It wasn’t hard
to figure out where this was going.

“
I’ve got a couple of ounces that need to be sold.”

Just like
that. As soon as there’s an opportunity. In with the deal. “I’m not
a drug dealer” I said, moving away from the phone and into the
lounge where he sat.

“
But you’re quite happy to smoke it, aren’t you?”

What a dick
. I had always felt like
there was a clear-cut difference between being a pot smoker and
being someone who sold it. One only ever affected your own life,
the other affected others’. “Guess I’m just not ready to stoop that
low.”

Tinsdale’s
face lost more expression than I thought possible. I saw his body
stiffen. I wanted to backtrack real quick, but didn’t have a clue
how I was going to do that. I actually thought he might rise up and
smack me in the face – deservedly so, I was quickly realising.

“
Just remember,” he said with too much calm – the tone
threatened without even the slightest bit of anger. “I may not be
your dealer around here, but the person who is, is still doing you
a service that you are a willing part of, and you can call it low
or whatever, but I – one of these low stooping people – have
allowed you to live here and have a roof over your head, a roof
that you
chose
to
live under, for whatever reasons; reasons I haven’t questioned and
don’t give a fuck about. And for the record, I personally don’t
give a shit if you think it’s stooping low, just don’t bring
your
hypocrisy to
my
table –
got that
?”

I folded my
arms – “Yeah. I got it.” – and walked off to my room.

For the next
few days I played video games with almost as much passion as when I
had first been kicked out of the church and had nothing else to
turn to. I used my anger to destroy worlds, wipe out masses of
NPCs, take down as many empires as possible, cast the most
punishing spells I could think of, and stealth my way through the
most murderous rampages ever.

Until the letter arrived. And then I was stuck wondering what
I was going to do next. No more money would equal no more video
games.
There goes my stress
relief!

Lucky for me,
I was practically handed
a paying job on a silver platter after bumping into someone I had
once met quite a long time ago, and he, remembering who I was,
asked if I wanted this job at his liquor store. A part of me wanted
to say ‘no’ out of respect for Mum, but the other part couldn’t say
‘no’ out of respect for the money that I’d be earning. So I took
the job.

And the job
was a piece of piss. I stood behind a counter and scanned the boxes
of beer, told the customer how much it cost, they gave me their
money, I put it in the till and told them to have a good night
while wondering how many of them actually would have a good night
after the vomiting session, the stumbling through doorways and
hitting their heads on cupboards, the falling down steps and
faceplanting the concrete footpath…

“
Don’t you give me that look” the customer said to me. “There
could be a lot worse drugs out there that my children could be
doing. You have no right to judge.”

I pretended to
not know what she was talking about as she stood there handing the
bags of Ready-To-Drinks to her teenage daughter and her friends. I
swear, not a single one of those kids looked like they were over
sixteen. But if they drank responsibly, then she was right – who
was I to judge?

They left with
the girls looking inside the bags like they were filled with
Christmas presents. I had been given precise instructions that it
was my decision whether or not to sell alcohol to an adult who I
suspected would be supplying it to underage drinkers, but I could
honestly say that I didn’t care.

I had cared
once about how teenagers lived their lives, I had cared once about
how they developed their relationship with God, but that had all
been taken away from me.

And now I was
seeing parents who were hardly even blinking an eye at the dangers
they were subjecting their children to, so all of a sudden I was
wondering why I had even bothered caring in the first place. Why
should I be responsible for other people’s actions? Why should I be
the one that has to do all of God’s dirty work? Bringing people
back from the brink of disaster, helping to guide people through
their problems? Where was all that when I needed it? No one had
been there for me – not Mum, not Dad, no one who had once called me
a ‘friend’, and certainly not the church that I had been so angry
at. They were the first to desert me, and everyone else was happy
to just follow along.

I tapped the
counter gently as the girl stood in front of me placing the
six-pack of Purple Goannas down between us. She smiled
suggestively, leaning her head to one side so her blonde hair fell
across her bare shoulders… and my eyesight followed it down…

“
Can I see some ID please?”
For those
big massive breasts of yours?

She seemed
annoyed but placed the ID down anyway. I picked it up eyeing the
brunette in the photo, looking at the blonde in front of me,
looking at the brunette, the blonde… Actually I didn’t even care
whether this was the same person or not. Half these IDs were old
photos anyway, and with teenagers, a mere two years could change
the appearance drastically. I was just enjoying having the girl
stand in front of me. She had been the first decent thing that I
got to look at the whole day – I wasn’t about to let her out of my
sight anytime soon.

I made a
non-committal sigh. “Sorry, about this, but y’ know I gotta be
sure.”

“
Right.”

I took a
couple more looks at the picture, at her, the picture, her… She had
amazing eyes. At least in person – the photo wasn’t doing her
justice at all. Her blue eyes were about the only thing that really
matched the photo – and even they were hard to be completely sure
about. If I was asked to go on a date with the girl in the photo,
I’d definitely be thinking twice, but this hot chick in front of me
was another thing all together.

She shifted
impatiently.

“
I could get done by the cops if I sell alcohol to
minors.”

“
Are you saying that I look like a minor?” All humour was gone
from her face as she looked at me questioningly.

“
No, not at all.”

“
Then why the fuck are you taking so long to decide if it’s me
or not?”

I gave her
back the ID, scanned the barcode and placed the drinks in a bag as
she handed me the money. She left looking pissed off. I ignored the
bottle-shaped bulge that stuck out from the back of her pants and
rode up her back. She probably would have thrown the stolen item at
me no matter what it was. I wasn’t keen on feeling that kind of
retribution.

Another bunch of girls came to the counter and dropped their
IDs down without me even asking to see them. I didn’t even bother
looking.
They can drink as much alcohol as
they like and fuck themselves up as much as they want for all I
care
.

I took their
money, placed it in the till and bid them a good night as they
walked cheerily out the door.

It was kind of
a surreal experience to walk around such a colourful interior of a
shop designed to attract as much clientele as possible while going
home to newspaper articles about road crashes, house fires,
domestic violence, homicides… all caused by the product on sale.
Yet, I felt that strange compulsion to try as many of these drinks
as possible, just like all the others that entered the shop, and I
barely even drank alcohol – usually only when someone else was
offering. But there were so many colourful drinks with labels that
looked so appealing, liquid that looked like harmless fizzy drinks
or cordials, caramel and lime milkshakes; I didn’t want to take my
eyes off all the glorious colour that I was seeing. I wanted to
drink it all down.

“
Excuse me mate.”

A man behind
me caught my attention as I turned away from a display. He wore
dark sunglasses that made it impossible for me to see his eyes.

“
Can ya show us where the cabinets are?” A woman stood behind
him wearing similarly dark, but big and rounded sunglasses. I’m not
sure why either of them were wearing shades inside, but thought
that they might have been protecting their eyes from all the
distracting colour in the shop. If that were the case then it was a
pretty good idea.

“
The Merlot Cabernets?” I asked, trying to clarify his
question.

“
Nah mate, the liquor cabinets – where the best shit is locked
up.”

“
Ah yes, it’s over here,” I said leading them to the other side
of the room and unlocking the cabinet doors to all the
spirits.