Infinite Testament (8 page)

Vince Kane sat at his desk and scribbled away at complex
mathematical equations. He was a freshman in college trying to keep up
with his hoards of homework. His dorm wasn’t the biggest of rooms, but it
sufficed. The hum of the light above him was always a distraction.
His sophomore roommates made the room smaller, but he managed to find a nook to
make his own. He had no decorations on his side of the dorm but his roommates
covered their walls with posters of scantily clad women.

Vince was as sharp as they came. His parents, avid
football fans, were always disappointed in him. Frankly, they wanted an
athlete. But what they got on their first try was a mathematical genius.
His younger brother Chad, no doubt a result of Vince’s athletic failures, was
always the favorite. They cheered for him at his games while Vince
quietly propelled himself through high school. Vince grew to hate sports,
especially football. It was all his parents cared about. They
didn’t care that Vince was number one in his class. And it wasn’t even
close. His GPA shot miles above the next closest student’s. But
nothing he did could measure up to his brother’s football. Football this,
football that. The great thing about college was that he didn’t have to
hear it anymore.

He was determined to show his parents how wrong they were,
and that process started with schoolwork. Biological engineering wasn’t
an easy field, but for Vince, it was a cakewalk. He could have taught the
classes if he wanted to. His mind was built for it. But, of course,
no one cared about something as complex and important as biological
engineering. They only cared about football.

The fact that Vince had no friends might have seemed like a
problem, but it helped his cause. He was able to fully focus on his
studies and let nothing else get in his way. It was lonely sometimes, but
he came to college with a giant chip on his shoulder. Besides that, he was
socially awkward; sometimes it was just better to flat-out keep away from
people.

When Vince applied to live in the dorms, he opted to be
randomly boarded with strangers. Unfortunately, it was hard to
concentrate in his dorm with his babbling roommates. They were always up
to something to distract him. To them, life seemed to be one big
joke. Whether they were in college to learn or to party was
debatable. Vince was increasingly frustrated with their unwillingness to
let him study in peace. And there they were again, babbling away in the
room. What were they even talking about?

“Free Will.” Bruce said.

“Okay,” Stephen responded, “and what do you think about
it?”

“I believe there is a God. But if he as an
omniscient, all-knowing God, then there is a problem: we can’t have Free
Will.” Bruce chewed on his pencil as he talked, a habit he acquired from
the boredom of high school. He sat in his desk chair, spinning. “In
that case, we can’t have Free Will because if God knows what I’m going to do,
then I don’t have a choice in my future. If what I do tomorrow is already
determined, it is impossible to have Free Will.”

“Interesting point,” Stephen conceded. He noticed
Vince attempting to do his homework. He seemed somewhat distracted.
Why didn’t he just go to the library? Oh well.

Bruce continued, “If I don’t have Free Will and I murder
someone, then I can’t be held responsible. My decisions, the thoughts in
my head, everything I did to lead to that murder would be out of my
control. The fact that the murder was predetermined would absolve me of
any moral responsibility.

“My decisions are who I am. If I have no control of
my decisions, then who am I?”

Stephen stared at Bruce. He was becoming a
philosophical mastermind right before his eyes. Little did he know, it
was this very issue that would change their lives years later.

Stephen asked, “So then what does it come down to?”

“I believe we must have Free Will,” Bruce answered, “I
don’t believe what we are going to do is already determined. I don’t
think God knows what we’re going to do. I don’t believe there are outside
forces influencing our decisions. God allows us to determine our own
fate. He has to. If we don’t have Free Will, then what defines us
as human beings is gone. We have the ability to analyze a situation
independently, with our own Free Will, and make a decision. And
that
is what makes us special.”

Stephen smiled. He didn’t think there was anything
special about humans. They simply evolved from apes. Stephen didn’t
buy the idea of God either. The idea that there was some kind of
invisible ‘big guy upstairs’ who watched over everyone and judged their actions
seemed ludicrous. The idea that came so easily to Bruce struggled to find
its way to Stephen. Jesus as a historical figure, however, was always
interesting to him. The guy was, without question, the most influential
individual to ever live on the planet. But was he the “Son Of God”?
Probably not, Stephen thought. But he certainly made an impact on people.

“Jesus Christ!” Vince yelled.

Stephen and Bruce simultaneously looked at their embattled
roommate.

“Can you guys go somewhere else?” Vince asked,
not-so-calmly. There it was: social awkwardness.

Stephen and Bruce looked at each other. Huh?
Was Vince honestly trying to kick them out of the room?

Stephen inquired, “What are you doing, Vince?”

“I’m working on my homework.”

Bruce asked, “What did you do yesterday?”

Vince’s eyes shot around. He tapped his pencil on his
desk. He knew where they were going with this.

“I did my work. Something I never see either of you
doing,” Vince starkly replied.

Stephen and Bruce shook their heads. They sat in
their chairs relaxed, loose. They had to get Vince out of the room.
They had to show him how fun college could be. If he left the room.
Just once. Vince, tense from head to toe, asked, “What?”

“We have an extra ticket to the game this weekend,” Stephen
started.

“You’re coming with us,” Bruce finished.

“What game?” Vince asked.

They laughed. It was possible, they thought, that he
actually hadn’t left the room. Ever.

“The football game.”

The game against Michigan State was always a huge
event. The schools were bitter rivals. The level of hatred wasn’t
the same as Michigan and Ohio State, but nonetheless, the animosity ran deep.

Stephen waited on the campus on a curb, giving him a couple
inches of extra height. He was looking for the girls who were meeting up
with Bruce, Vince, and himself. The students walked by in droves, dressed
in blue and gold. They trekked in the same direction, toward the stadium,
where the supremacy between schools would be decided. The sun shone
brightly for the monumentous game so the boys wore shorts and the girls wore
even shorter shorts. Excitement ruffled its way through the air. The
green-and-white-wearing Michigan State students were snarled at as they openly
rooted for their despicable Spartans.

As people passed, Bruce analyzed every face. Stephen
was busy looking for the girls, but Bruce was hoping to spot Sara Ixley.
He hadn’t seen her since high school. And she, as he heard from a friend,
was a freshman at Michigan State. He didn’t know if she’d make the trip
to see the game. But if she did, he wanted to see her.

Vince stood next to Bruce. He was not happy about
being forced to see a football game. Surely, his parents would be
proud. He looked at his roommates who were seeking out some girls who
were meeting up with them. Vince looked at the students passing by.
He thought he recognized some faces from some of his classes. But he
wasn’t sure. The girls here were much prettier than the girls at high
school. He was sure there was no way he could ever woo one. There
was no point in trying, he figured.

Vince continued to look around aimlessly, eager to get the
whole day over with and get back to schoolwork. The flow of traffic moved
in one swift direction. It was like a highway of people. He spotted
a group of three girls that seemed to zig-zag their way against the tide.
Their direction seemed to coincide with Vince. He made eye contact with
one of the girls, an attractive brunette. Oh! He held it a little
too long. He glanced away. What to do!? He mimicked Stephen
and Bruce and pretended to look for a group of girls. Were the girls
still heading toward him? He looked. Made eye contact again.
Oh, shoot. This was getting uncomfortable. They were still
coming. Vince coughed. He looked at Stephen and Bruce. They
remained oblivious. How could they not see the impending attack?
Vince nervously spoke up, “Guys, someone’s coming!”

Stephen looked. It was them. “Hey!” He
hopped off the curb. “What’s up?”

“Hey Stephen,” the brunette replied.

She looked at Vince and smiled. He attempted to smile
back. Awkwardly.

She asked, “Is he with you guys?”

Bruce cut off his search for Sara Ixley, to be resumed
later. “Yeah,” Bruce said, “This is our roommate, Vince.”

The brunette and her two friends turned their attention
toward Vince. The three of them were pretty. How did his roommates
pull this off? He would consider hanging out with them more.

“Hi Vince, I’m Natalie,” said the brunette.

“I’m Taylor,” said her blonde friend.

“I’m Jess,” said her other blonde friend.

Vince stared at them. Taylor and Jess were plenty
attractive, but he was spellbound by Natalie. Her long brown hair and
deep brown eyes sucked him in. She dazzled like a supermodel.

Vince was stuck in a vortex and failed to realize his
stare.

“Are you a big fan of the football team?” Natalie asked.

Vince snapped out of it. Natalie just asked him a
question. He didn’t hear it.

He blankly nodded, hoping that ‘yes’ would be an acceptable
answer.

“Great! It should be fun then!”

Okay. Good answer.

Taylor spoke up, “Come on, we’re not going to get good
seats if we don’t hurry!”

Stephen turned his head. “Oh really? That’s
funny. We’ve been sitting here waiting for
you
.”

Natalie laughed. It was true. He got them with
that one. “Come on, let’s go.”

The six of merged into the human-highway traffic and headed
to the stadium.

In light of the events of prom night, the senior year
‘Mr. Ixley Is A Dick-sley’ event was cancelled.
In its place was
a simple unnamed post-prom, end-of-the-year celebration. Students
referred to it as ‘Spring Fling’, ‘End of the Year Bash’, or ‘Bruce’s Party’.
Most of the events from ‘Dick-sley’ were still there, but the theme was free of
Mr. Ixley bashing. Carnival games, musical acts, and a dance were the
highlights.

The turnout was spectacular. Of course it was:
Stephen and Bruce created the event. There were hundreds of hyperactive
students filling the school gymnasium and cafeteria. The principal, Mr.
Lewerk, a tall, fish-looking man, watched proudly. He was the security
for the night and checked the ID’s of every student entering the almost-year-end
party. Stephen and Bruce were typically regarded as a pain by Mr. Lewerk
and Mr. Ixley, but they were willing to help the school when asked. This
event raised more funds than any other event in school history. Mr.
Lewerk would never admit it, but the school would miss them when they
graduated.

While Bruce kept everyone dancing in the gym at the dance
portion of the party, Stephen ran a special game in the cafeteria. The
goal: defeat him in pool. The game cost $10 to play and any student who
pulled off the feat would win a $100 gift certificate. A few students
here and there had come relatively close. But
close
for Stephen
meant the opponent knocked in more than three of their balls. So, not so
close.

Stephen finished off another opponent. “Nice try.
Thanks for playing,” he said as he shook his opponent’s hand. The next
challenger walked forward. He was a thick-boned male, with muscles
popping out of his cut-off T-shirt. Steroids? Maybe. He was
huge. He was around the same age as Stephen, but it was strange: Stephen
didn’t know who he was. Stephen knew
everybody
at school.
But he didn’t know this guy. Somehow, oddly, he looked familiar. He
had seen him somewhere before, but he couldn’t place it. Nonetheless, he
approached him warmly.

“How’s it going? It’s ten dollars to play.” Stephen
said as he handed him a pool stick.

He grabbed it. “I don’t want to play,” he said
without emotion.

Stephen’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out who
he was.

The mystery guy’s hands firmly wrapped around the
stick. He seemed somewhat nervous. “I’m looking for Bruce. Do
you know where I can find him?”

Stephen’s warm approach started to dim away.
Something was wrong. “Why?”

“I have something I need to talk to him about,” the mystery
guy said.

Stephen stared at him. This guy didn’t belong
here. This was a students-only event. The principal, Mr. Lewerk,
must have not been paying attention and this fellow sneaked in. Either
way, Stephen didn’t feel comfortable around him and he needed to leave.

“Can I see your Student I.D.?”

The mystery guy walked away, pool stick in hand.

“Hey!” Stephen tossed his pool stick on the table and
hurried after him.

The music pulsated, energizing everyone in the gym.
It was dark, with the exception of colored spotlights bouncing around the
walls. Bruce danced with a girl in his class, Anna. There was a
giant circle of spectators around the two. He spun her around and her
dress lifted, much to the delight of the male crowd. Bruce grabbed Anna’s
hands and promptly swung her beneath his legs and pulled her back up.
Their dance moves were fluid and perfectly in sync to the music. It was
like the two were on moving on clouds.

Suddenly, there was an intruder in their circle. And
he had a pool stick. Bruce stepped away from Anna and addressed the
intruder, yelling, “Stephen’s pool game is in the cafeteria!” Unless, of
course, the guy wanted to dance with the pool stick. That would be pretty
cool, he guessed.

Bruce grabbed Anna and led her to the outside of the circle,
leaving the pool-stick man alone in the middle. He wanted to see what
this goofy-looking muscular guy was going to do. Bruce clapped to the
beat, encouraging others to do the same. The guy stood in the circle and
stared at Bruce. He didn’t even move. Wow, he wasn’t a very good
dancer. Maybe he needed help.

Bruce approached him and bounced around and danced.
Uninterested, the mystery guy swung the pool stick at him. Bruce, being
the star athlete he is, ducked under the swing. It was an instant, instinctual
reaction. Bruce didn’t even know what happened as a pool stick whooshed
above his head. The wind from the stick chopping though the air rushed at
his hair. The crowd grew loud, worried for his safety. But no one
was willing to come to his aid. Not against a giant. Bruce popped
up, took a few steps back, and looked at him again. Then he realized who
it was. It was Ronnie, the third-grader he beat up back in first grade.

The music died down as the party dissipated. “I
haven’t seen you since sixth grade,” Bruce quipped, “How you doin?”

Stephen pushed his way to the front lines of the
circle. He looked on, worried. There was nothing he could do to
help.

Ronnie spoke. “You made a big mistake.”

Bruce laughed. “You’ll have to be more specific than
that.”

Ronnie held out the pool stick, planning to swipe Bruce’s
head off. Bruce crouched in position, bending his knees and preparing for
the worst. Ronnie could attack at any second. Bruce found himself
in a fight and he had no idea why.

But he had to fight back.

Bruce kept a far enough distance from the stick.
Normally, he’d have taken Ronnie down by now. But the stick could prove
lethal. And there was no telling how far Ronnie wanted to take this.

Bruce watched the stick with a hawk-like gaze. Ronnie
swung it at his head and it whistled around at a blazing speed. At
mid-swing, Bruce fell backward to the ground and reached out his hands.
He kept his eyes locked on the stick and caught it. It was an incredible
move. The fierce impact stung his hands and quite frankly, he was lucky
they didn’t break.

Bruce ripped the stick out of Ronnie’s hands and leapt to
his feet with a new weapon in hand.

Bruce kicked Ronnie backwards. Ronnie stumbled,
giving some space between them. Bruce tilted his head at Ronnie and
smiled. He held out his hands at his side, still holding the stick, and
asked, “You want to talk about this like normal people now?”

Instead, Ronnie charged. Bruce gripped the pool stick
like a baseball bat. He had no choice: he swung at Ronnie’s head.
And connected. Home Run. Ronnie collapsed to the ground and the
stick shattered over his head. Bruce hit him so hard, he immediately fell
unconscious.

Stephen watched in awe. David had just slain
Goliath. Not that Bruce could truly be considered a David with his
athletic ability, but Ronnie had become huge in the last few years.

Bruce walked over to Stephen and tossed him the pool stick,
“Will you take better care of your equipment? You’re endangering the
lives of everyone here.” Bruce smiled, unfazed by what just
happened. He didn’t know what Ronnie wanted and he didn’t care. The
guy was a loser and would always be a loser. Probably had too much to
drink and came stumbling in to the school looking for trouble.

Mr. Lewerk ran to Ronnie’s limp body on the floor.
“Oh my god, oh my god,” he mumbled to himself. He huffed as he checked to
make sure Ronnie was okay. “Who is this?”

“Doesn’t go here,” Bruce answered, “I thought you were
checking the people who came in.”

Mr. Lewerk had no response. On second thought, he
couldn’t wait to be rid of Stephen and Bruce.

They were in the midst of watching the football game.
The thunderous roar of the crowd shook their seats. The six of them
sat in the student section, typically a bit more crowded and rowdy than other
sections. Some students sat, some stood, and some didn’t even watch the
game. Bruce had all but given up the search for Sara Ixley and now
focused on the action on the field. On his left, Stephen laughed with
Taylor and Jess. They weren’t paying much attention to the game at
all. On his right, Natalie watched the game with an intense focus; she
was a diehard fan. Past Natalie was Vince. What was Vince
doing? He sat straight, watching the field with the blankest of stares on
his face.

“Hey Vince,” Bruce said loud enough to transcend the crowd
noise.

Vince turned his head as if Bruce just woke him up.

“Yeah?” Vince asked.

“Did you know Natalie is a biological engineer?”

Vince’s face lit up. He looked at Natalie and, with
his face, asked, “Really?”

She smiled and nodded. “Really,” she replied without
saying a word.

That was all Vince needed to know to make the trip
worthwhile.

Bruce turned his attention back to the game. He was
the odd man out now. In his isolation, Bruce soaked up the scene.
There were thousands of people in the crowd. Security was easily
noticeable in their bright yellow jackets. Bruce’s eyes wandered from the
yellow jackets down to the sidelines. Players, coaches, trainers, and
cheerleaders roamed the sidelines. The Michigan State cheerleaders caught
Bruce’s interest immediately. They moved in perfect unison, with oddly
exuberant smiles on their faces. It was part of their routine, he was sure.
There was no way they were all that delighted to be constantly
rah-rah-ing. He examined the faces and bodies of the envied
cheerleaders. They were more attractive and in much better shape on the
Michigan State side. How unfortunate.

All of the Michigan State cheerleaders were sleeveless,
except for one; she had long, white sleeves covering her arms. That was
strange. Maybe she was the captain. Bruce squinted his eyes to
catch a glimpse of her face.