Ray Gorham - 77 Days in September

“How long ago did you visit?”

“It was eight years ago last June, six months before Tasha died.”

“Tasha was your wife?”

Elijah nodded.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It was a tough time, but we got through it. At least we were able to say goodbye.”

“It wasn’t sudden?”

“No, we had some time to get ready. That’s why we went to Montana. She picked all these places she wanted to see before she passed: Yosemite, Old Faithful, Mt. Rushmore, Statue of Liberty, and a few others. We took that last summer and saw them all. It was one of the happiest summers of my life.” Elijah radiated peace as he talked about the trip and his wife.

“Were you in the ministry at the time?”

He shook his head. “I was in Iraq. Tasha was diagnosed in early April, so I got leave. When she died, I received a discharge. Couldn’t very well raise kids alone from the other side of the world.”

The sun had fully risen above the horizon, the temperature climbing enough to make Kyle sweat. “So how’d you end up becoming a minister?”

Elijah thought as they walked, the stillness of the city interrupted only by the sound of their footsteps and the wheels of the cart. “Well,” he began slowly, “dealing with Tasha’s death forced me to think about life. You know, what’s it all about? Is there really a God? I just couldn’t accept it all being for nothing, and I wanted some answers. Tasha always believed, ever since she was a little girl. It was easy for her, but I struggled with it. Faith is a tough thing to come to grips with; it was a lot easier to not think about it, because then you never have to feel guilty about anything. Then when she passed… her body….I can’t explain it, but it wasn’t her. It was her body, but it was like her skin had just been something she was wearing, and the real Tasha was gone. I guess I made up my mind then that we weren’t just highly evolved monkeys and that we had a soul, or a spirit, or whatever you want to call it. After I came to that conclusion, things kind of fell into place. Maybe this is where God wants me.”

Kyle didn’t respond. He just listened and walked, pulling his cart along behind him.

Elijah looked at Kyle and laughed. “Sorry, Kyle. I guess it doesn’t take much to get me into preacher mode anymore, does it?”

“No, don’t apologize. You’re good. I was just thinking back on the past week and a half and everything that’s happened. I know I should believe in God, that’s how I was raised, but watching how quickly people fall apart, I don’t know. I mean, why would God create people who would do what they did to our country? I bet thousands of people have died in the last week that wouldn’t have under normal circumstances. It just seems we’re a lot closer to animals than we are to anything holy.”

“I can see where you’re coming from, but that’s part of life — seeing how we deal with what’s put in front of us. I don’t claim to know how God thinks or why he lets happen the things that he does, but I believe he’s there. Doesn’t mean that somebody else isn’t going to do horrible things. It just means that I need to treat people the best way I can. Heck, if we’re just a chance grouping of cells, then why haul that guy off the airplane? You weren’t expecting that it would do you any good. Why go back to your family when it’d be a whole lot easier to just start a new life here? Name one animal that would go to half the lengths you are for a breeding partner or their offspring. If we’re all products of the ‘survival of the fittest’ heritage that the scientists proclaim, then we should be living an every-man-for-himself lifestyle. From a non-theistic standpoint, there’s no explanation for why we care about others or try and do good.”

The highway ahead of them was littered with cars and trucks, paralyzed in the full swing of activity, and with most of the city behind them, Kyle knew that Elijah would soon return home. He stopped and turned towards Elijah. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” Kyle said with a grin. “We should have started this conversation yesterday. It gives me a little more hope for mankind. Not a lot at this point, but some.”

Elijah’s broad smile spread across his face again, and his eyes sparkled in the early morning light. “I’d have loved to talk about it; it’s one of my favorite topics, but you slept most of the day.” He winked at Kyle and laughed. “You know, Kyle, you do believe in God. It’s just that your brain gets in the way and screws everything up. But think about your life, how you live, how you treat other people. Ask yourself why you do things that help others at your expense, whether it’s your kids, or your wife, or someone you don’t even know. Why do you care about going home? That’s the spiritual part of you, the divine spark at work. There’s your answer.”

“I’ll think about it, Elijah. I’m sure I’ll have some time for thinking in the next few weeks.”

Elijah stepped forward and embraced Kyle. “Sunday school’s over. You need to get moving; you have a long ways to go. Take care of yourself. It’s not going to be easy.”

Kyle wrapped his arms around Elijah, trying not to grimace in pain as Elijah squeezed his bruised ribs. “Thanks for everything. You promised to come to Montana when this is all over, and I’m going to hold you to that. Tell your kids thanks, too.”

Deer Creek, Montana

“Meeting adjourned,” Gabe said as he ran his hands through his thinning hair, frustrated with everything that wasn’t getting done. “Let’s work on those issues and try to come up with some more ideas for our next meeting,” he added as the first of the committee members headed to the door.

Jennifer finished writing her notes, stuffed her pad in her handbag, and got up to go. The meeting had been difficult for the council. The weight of what they had to deal with was becoming more and more apparent. There had already been one death in the community, and the number of people going hungry was mounting. The committee was discovering that those who were more prepared were the ones who avoided participating in the group, leaving them with the people who needed the most help but had little to offer.

Jennifer recalled learning about when the pilgrims first came to America, how half of them had died in the first year, and then it was a number of years before survival rates improved much. Considering the helplessness of so many in their community, she worried that they might experience similar losses. Jennifer was caught up in her thoughts and jumped when a hand touched her arm.

“Mind if I walk with you?” Doug asked.

He was dressed in his sheriff’s uniform again, and while Jennifer thought he overplayed his security role, it seemed to make Doug feel important and didn’t really hurt anything. Besides, who was she to be critical of a person’s appearance? Her routine of a daily shower had devolved to the occasional sponge bath, and she had only washed her hair a handful of times since “the event”, if you counted a quick rinse in cold water as washing. Consequently, Jennifer wore extra deodorant and perfume to mask body odor, and guessed, from the potpourri of scents in the room, that most of the people on the council were resorting to the same tactics. Even her clothes had seen little soap over the same time period. With water being such a precious resource, two rainstorms had been the extent of their laundry. When the first storm had rolled in, she had been unprepared for the sudden opportunity and barely managed to get their clothes wet. The second time it rained, she and the kids had rigged clotheslines in the backyard and hurried to get their clothes out and hanging before the rain quit.

“Doug! Sorry for jumping. I was kind of lost in my thoughts. Um, I’m a little out of your way, aren’t I?”