Sergio De La Pava - A Naked Singularity

“I understand.”

“Thing is I don’t think my disbelief has ever quite risen to the level of certainty of my previous belief, I know it hasn’t. I may not believe that God exists but I also recognize I could be wrong. I know this because I have previously been wrong about other things that I was far more certain about. I also recognize that this is not the kind of area where an error is impossible or even unlikely. What that means is that if I am wrong and everything that you, Father Mulcahey, believe accurately represents the state of the universe then engaging in this process in a state of disbelief could be just the kind of slap in the face we spoke of earlier. At best it seems to be a kind of cynical attempt to cover all my bases in the absence of true contrition. On the other hand, since I recognize that your worldview might be correct shouldn’t I attempt to remedy my failings and redeem myself in conformance with that possibility? In other words it’s the lack of certainty that gives me pause. If I knew with certainty that this was all just a pleasant fiction, which if you were honest you would admit is at least a possibility as I have done with the converse, then there’d be no reason to be here at all. Anything would be permissible. Certainly there wouldn’t be any reason to worry about something as silly as whether or not your words conformed with amorphous truth and we could dispense with a lot of the ill feelings we experience in this and similar areas. Quality of life would improve dramatically for everyone. No guilt, conscience, or restrictions. Which of course raises the possibility that my desire for such an existence influences my lack of belief in those things that would make such an existence impossible. See what I’m driving at?”

“…”

“Well, let me start. It was a small thing. I guess the idea was you would push the little red button at the top and that would set into furious motion these little wheels or whatever. The whole thing was probably two by three inches at most. Looking back I guess it was some kind of miniature slot machine although that was not a comparison I could have made back then. I was just a little squirt there at our Lady of Perpetual Remorse or whatever and severely limited in what I knew of the world outside. I did know that I liked that little thing when my man Marlon showed it to me. He showed it to me in the bathroom and I got to try it out a couple times. I liked everything about it for whatever reason. Well everything except the fact that it belonged to Marlon and not me.

Anyway don’t ask me why but I thought it was just about the coolest thing in the world at the time. Of course once I had it in my grubby mitts it didn’t seem like such a big deal at all. The worst part is I think I had to stand there mute like the little prick I was as he told me he had lost it. As I recall I lost it myself later that day and felt a profound sense of loss. What a mangy twerp. I feel nothing but disgust when I look back at that. That place is full of all kinds of things like that for me. Like there was this dopey kid there that everybody ragged on including peripherally me. Poor sap. I once told this other kid to put a carton of milk on his chair just before he sat on it and he did. Do you see the immensely weasely aspect of this? I didn’t put the milk there myself where I would be sticking my neck out and risking getting in trouble. I gave some other kid the idea and watched him get in trouble while not ratting me out. God, what a dick! I think of that all the time. I think of this kid, barely old enough to watch cable, sitting on that carton of milk and what that must have felt like, physically and mentally. They made us wear these hideous polyester pants then and this would have been lunchtime so I’m sure he was wet the rest of that day. More than once that day he probably wondered what he had done to merit the constant abuse he endured. I think of that kid. I think of being at a party years later where these lowly vermin were fucking with this girl who had passed out from too much drinking, drinking she probably did to get over some kind of social anxiety because she wasn’t the type of girl who could just drop into any party and expect to receive favorable attention. What I think about is how I just stood there doing and saying nothing like some damn wooden pole. How instead of mentally telling myself the countless, sickening ways they were wrong, I instead chose to rationalize and diminish the actions of these worthless fucks. Whatever. I don’t like remembering those things but every once in a while you know? I fantasize about living those moments again, avoiding those acts I regret and taking stands I should have. Can you offer me that? Can you arrange for me to travel back in time as they say in sci-fi? That would be something useful you could give me instead of whatever you have planned for me at the end of this. What do you anticipate that’s going to be by the way?”

“…”

“Well, whatever. Maybe you’ll rule that I have to recite seven penitential psalms once a week for the next three years, I don’t know. Of course someone could question the legitimacy of your role in all of this. I mean what do you have to do with anything? You didn’t sit on that carton of milk. Forget it, I know what you’re going to say. Go ahead say it.”

“…”

“Besides that stuff was a long time ago and I’m sure I covered it in a previous session. After all it’s been a long time but this isn’t the first time I’ve been in here either. Here’s something I know I haven’t covered. I stole some money. Well stole is probably too strong a word. I took some money that wasn’t mine but also really didn’t rightfully belong to the people I took it from, which makes it probably a technical violation at most and likely not that big of a deal. Although it was a lot of money I should add.”

“How much?”

“Well, a lot. Like ten million dollars or so.”

“How much?”

“Exactly. But don’t jump to any conclusions, I plan to use the money to do a lot of good whereas if I hadn’t taken the dough it would have been used for entirely nefarious purposes. Overall, society will benefit. That’s the only reason I’m going to do it. I know that sounds like a rationalization but you have to realize that the people we took the money from are pretty bad characters and I’m essentially a good person. My real problem is…”

“Yes?”

“Well what if someone got hurt? I mean really hurt. What if someone died? Isn’t that as bad as it gets?”

“Are you telling me someone died?”

“Yes, someone did, I think. What’s the situation in that case? You know what, forget it, it’s not relevant. What I really want to talk about is a little tricky. This was a couple of years ago. I don’t want to talk about that either actually. Isn’t there some kind of general dispensation you can give. God, I hate this!” As I said that I kind of slapped my hand down on the ledge in front of me. At first nothing happened. Then there was a loud cracking noise and it felt as if the entire booth was collapsing on us. Mulcahey booked out of there in nanoseconds. I stayed seated, curious to see what would happen next. The booth didn’t collapse but the dividing wall did crack and fall forward into the space the priest had just vacated. I got out.

“Look what you’ve done,” he said pointing.

I looked at what I had done then back at him. “Look what you’ve done,” he repeated.

I looked down at what I had done and saw that it was bad.

“Look what you’ve done.”

“I can pay,” I said.

“Look what you’ve done.”

“I can pay for it. I’ll leave you a blank check and as long as you wait a week or so you can make it out for whatever you need. I can also just probably fix it myself.”