Verse (13 page)

Chapter 56

I knock on the door and Pam answers.

“Please come in, Lord.”

I walk in and she closes the door and takes my coat. Christian rock plays softly on the stereo and it smells like beef.

She leads me to the dining room where I take a seat and she disappears into the kitchen.

She comes back with mashed potatoes in one hand and green bean casserole in the other.

Scheffield comes out with meat loaf and serves us.

We chitchat about the ratings and the weather and the zoning laws that are hurting their plans for their Christland theme park.

I take a bite of mashed potatoes as Scheffield says, “Now I know you wanted to talk about your ideas for the network, but please first just hear this one idea out. I thought of it and it was so perfect, I just had to tell you as soon as possible! Picture this: You starring in ‘The Life of Jesus!’”

I look at him and chew.

I swallow.

I say, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah! Don’t you love it? Okay I can see you’re a little hesitant, maybe you’re a little camera shy? But you’ve been so good in your
Cross Talk
appearances.”

“But I’m not an actor.”

Pam says, “Well you’re as handsome as one.”

He says, “There’s nothing to acting! It’s just playing pretend! You’re a natural on camera, so the rest is a snap!” He snaps his fingers.

I say, “You want to fly out and film in the Middle East? Or where do they normally shoot Jesus movies?”

He says, “We can just shoot it on our sets, like our other movies. We have the crucifixes and the togas and the cliff backdrops already from when we made
Acts of the Apostles
. But this will be the best Jesus movie ever made because we actually have Jesus starring!”

She says, “Now we know what he actually looked like, what you look like!”

He says, “You’ll have to grow a beard, of course.”

I say, “You want to shoot it on our sets? Actually, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Everything we make, it looks so… We need new sets. And new props. And new cameras. And if we can’t afford new sets, we should be shooting outside like real movies. We need to be competing with real mainstream movies and television. We can’t just use being a Christian network as an excuse any more.”

She says, “I thought you liked our programming.”

“I do. Of course. I’m the biggest fan of
Cross Talk
. I’m the only fan I even knew before I worked here. But that’s my point. We need a mainstream audience.”

He says, “We have a good audience. I’m proud of our audience. I’m proud to be one of them. True Christians. True Americans. And the foreign markets, of course. Now, yes, we want higher ratings, but they should come to us, not the other way around!”

She says, “The mainstream audience will come because of you. When they see what you can do, they’ll be so awestruck, they’ll watch. They’ll watch and watch and watch.”

I say, “I’m not… We need to be making a professional product.”

Scheffield throws down his fork with a clatter. “If you want to go shoot something in the streets like Martin Scorsese or somebody then be my guest. I know we’re not Spielberg, but we don’t have the money to be Spielberg.”

I say, “I know that, of course. But can we get a few new cameras? Those things are like ten years old, our footage looks like home videos. We have more money coming in now, so we should be able to at least afford better cameras. And that’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about, where’s all the money going?”

Scheffield looks like the mashed potatoes he’s chewing have turned rancid.

Pam stares at her food.

“What?” I say.

He says, “I thought we agreed, it’d be best if you just let us worry about the finances. So you can worry about spreading the Word.”

I say, “Yeah, you’re right, of course.”

I take a bite of meatloaf and chew and watch my plate.

I look up, but they’re not saying anything else.

I can’t think of anything else.

We eat in silence.

Chapter 57

ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR ERR

I shut off the alarm.

I throw off my blanket and go down the hall. I shower and get dressed and take the elevator down. I wave to John, the security guard, and get in my town car and say, “Hi,” to Patrick.

He says, “Good morning, Lord. Happy birthday!”

I say, “Thanks.”

Patrick drives us to Burbank, where I check in on pre-production for
Make Ready the Way
. Wendy takes me up into the writer’s room and shows me the storyboards and voice over script.

I grab a red felt pen and make some edits on the script and some suggestions in the margins and then head down to Studio C.

They’re filming an episode of
God Cops
. They block out a scene where Smith and Colt run down a sinner. Colt yells, “Stop in the name of the lord! You do not have the right to remain sinful!”

John Jr. sees me and comes over, “Hello Lord, happy birthday.” He shakes my hand. “What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think it’s embarrassing.”

He reddens. “It’s a kids’ show.”

“Yeah but there are good kids’ shows.”

“It’s a good kids’ show.”

“Better kids’ shows.”

“You mean shows with sin and without the Word? And with ten times our budget? ‘Ye cannot serve both God and money.’”

“It’s not about the money. I mean it’s partly about the money. But the writing. There have to be hundreds of kids graduating from film school, who’d work for nothing, ten times as talented as Gary and Phil.”

“Gary and Phil have been with us since the beginning.”

“Exactly.”

“And do you think any of those kids would be of the flock?”

“Who cares.”

“Who cares?”
“We’d be hiring them to do a job, they could do the job.”

“You want to head down to USC or UCLA and solicit writing samples, be my guest.”

“And you’d shoot their scripts if I did?”

He shakes his head. “How many times do we have to have this argument?”

“How many times is it gonna take?”

He shakes his head again and walks back to the set.

I leave and Patrick drives me downtown to the office and I meet with Bernice about the upcoming premiere of
Manuel
. She wishes me, “Happy birthday,” and shows me the latest drafts of the first five monologues and I go over them. She says, “We should start rehearsing ASAP. Mr. Scheffield makes it look easy, but looking natural and comfortable as a talk show host is anything but.”

I say, “How’s the guest list coming?”

She says, “We have Mr. Scheffield set for episode one.”

“Yeah, I know, and…?”

“We’re working on it. Richard Asher’s camp is giving us positive indications, what do you think about Shelly Lewin?”

“Who?”

“Former state senator, she’s an old friend of the family.”

“My eyelids just got heavy.”

“Okay. Okay.”

We wrap up and I head up to my office. Marcia brings me a turkey sandwich, pickle, barbecue chips, and a Coke.

I eat and sign a bunch of paperwork.

The phone rings and I answer it, “Hello?”

Marcia says, “I have a call from a Faye Cheng for you?”

My heart beats faster and I wipe chip dust and grease onto my napkin. “Yeah, put her through.”

“Hello?” Faye says.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hi,” she says.

“How are you?”

“Good. Okay.”

“What’s going on?”

She says, “Well…”

“I mean I’m glad you called. I wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, what about?”

“I mean… nothing. I just wanted to know how you are. I think about you a lot.”

“I think about you too. It’s gotten so lonely without you. I hate it. I wanted to call so many times, but… look…”

“What?”

She says, “I’m pregnant.”

I laugh.

Silence from her.

I say, “Sorry I laughed.”

“It’s okay.”

Silence from both of us.

She says, “What are you thinking?”

What am I thinking? I’m thinking, ‘what am I thinking?’ I’m thinking, ‘I’m thinking, what am I thinking?’ I’m thinking— stop. I say, “I’m thinking… I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Okay.”

“I need to, um, can you give me a minute to, uh, think?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“I mean, how are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“I mean, um, maybe a day? Would that be okay?”

“Okay?”

“I mean, um, we’ll catch up, I mean I’ll call you, I mean, tell Marcia your number and I’ll call you back.”

“Okay.”

“I know where to find you. You know where to find me, I mean I’ll call you.”

“Are you okay? You sound like you, like, I don’t even know, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great. Bye.” I hang up the phone.

I look at the phone.

That was kind of abrupt. I should have said goodbye. I did say goodbye. Still that was kind of weird. I’m great? I shouldn’t have said I’m great. No, I should have said I’m great. I should be great.

I pick the phone back up.

“Yes?” Marcia says.

“Can you cancel everything for the rest of the day and have the car come around?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Great. I’m great.”

“Okay, no problem. You do have a special meeting at 6 p.m. tonight?”

“I can’t do the surprise party, Marcia. You gotta cancel it, I’m sick.”

“Do you need to see a doctor?”

“No, I just, I don’t feel well, please just do what I’m asking.”

“Of course.”

I hang up the phone.

I look at the phone.

I cough.

Okay.

I better go.

Chapter 58

Patrick drops me at my apartment building and I go up, turn off my cell and the lights, lower the blinds, and lie down on the bed. The bed’s really comfortable, the most comfortable I’ve ever used. The mattress must have cost a couple thousand dollars. One of those ones with the foam developed by NASA. Why would anyone spend that much money on a bed?

Abortion.

Abortion.

Abortion.

This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.

So when things go bad, suddenly it isn’t real? Shut up. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.

Breathe.

Breathe in.

Breath out.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Why did I have to fuck her? Okay. Okay. Stop. Focus. There’s no choice. I already know that. I can’t undo it. I did what I did. I have to face the consequences. I have to accept this.

They’ll crucify me. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Do the right thing. Just do the right thing. I can’t. I don’t know what that is.

God would know.

I turn on the television for a while, then I read, watch some more TV, talk to myself, eat, sleep, masturbate, pace.

It’s morning.

There’s a news report about me on TV.

In rock star fashion, he is known by his first name only: Manuel.

That’s funny.

He has a attracted a small but intensely devoted following across the country and much interest from

Boring. Blah. Blah. Blah.

We spoke to Rabbi Judah Cohen of Temple Shalom Sinai, an acquaintance of Manuel’s.

Rabbi Cohen? The reporter interviews him, he says,

Let me say this, he could be the messiah. So could any one of a number of people. The messiah won’t be revealed by his words, he will be revealed by his actions.

I shut off the TV, pick up my phone and call Marcia, “Can you get the jet ready? I need to go to Seattle.”

Chapter 59

I don’t know the address, so I just give the limo driver instructions to the house. I climb the stairs up to the porch and ring the doorbell.

Iris’s mom opens the door. “Manuel,” she says. “What are you doing here? I mean, hello, how are you?”

I say, “Hello, Mrs. Alman,” and I put my hand out to shake. “I don’t think we’ve formally met.”

She shakes my hand and says, “What can I help you with?”

I say, “I’m actually here to see Iris, is she here right now?”

“Iris? No, but she should be back in a bit. Would you like to wait for her?”

I nod.

She lets me inside and shows me to a chair in the living room.

I sit and she brings me some iced tea.

I have a second glass and I’m chewing some ice from that when the lock clicks and the door opens and Iris walks in.

“Manuel,” she says as I stand up and turn toward her.

“Hey,” I say.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?”

We go up to her room and she shuts the door. She sits on the bed and I sit backwards in her desk chair, leaning forward against the backrest.

“What is it?” she says.

How do I put this? I say, “I thought I was supposed to die a virgin.”

“Okay?”

“I thought God made sex for having children, like for married people to have children. Like that’s what he wants and anything else is a sin and that’s not why I’m here. Like other people can do it, like it’s forgivable, but it was my job to be above all that, to be perfect. So…”

“Manuel?”

“Yeah?”

“Is this your idea of a come on?”

I laugh, maybe too hard. “No. No.”

“Okay, I get it.”

“You do?”

“These guys, these televangelists, they all have this idea of what you should be, right? And you feel bad because you’re not that.”

“Well yeah, but my problem is lot more practical than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got a girl pregnant.”

“Oh. Oh.” She’s somewhere else for a moment. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Come on, Iris.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s okay. Really, it’s okay.”

“Look, it happened before all this happened. Before anything between us happened.”

“I see.”

“I mean it was just a few months ago, but it feels like forever.”

“Yeah.”

I say, “And I didn’t want it to be like this. And it doesn’t change how I always felt about you. I mean, I wanted it to be you.”

“I’m glad it’s not.”

“I know! I just mean…” I sigh.

“Manuel, you don’t owe me an explanation, you don’t owe me anything. We’re not together, we’ve never been together.”

“I know, but…”

“Why are you even telling me this? I mean I’m glad you told me, I guess, but why are you here?”

“I guess because I needed to talk to somebody and you’re… you’re my best friend.”

“Oh.”

I say, “I know I’m not your best friend. You have girlfriends you’ve been close with forever, but I don’t really have anyone else. Sydney’s gone and… There’s just Erwin and I barely talk to him these days and I don’t even know if we ever really were friends. And even if things were different, you’d still be my best friend. You’re really my only friend.”

“Manuel, listen… I think I like talking to you more than any of my other friends. And I wish we were closer than we are. I wanted to be.”

“I know, I did too and I’m sorry about that. I guess that’s really why I’m here, I wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things worked out.”

We sit in silence. Her computer hums.

She says, “Manuel, you’re getting all like this because why? I mean why really? You had sex. So what? I don’t even consider premarital sex a sin. Most people don’t, I think.”

“But I’m different. Or maybe I’m not, I don’t know now.”

“But you did know you had sex for a while. And you acted like it didn’t matter, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But now that other people are gonna find out, it’s harder to get over.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re acting like you have a problem with yourself, but really you just a have a problem with people finding out, right?”

I sigh, “Not just that but… yeah, you’re right.”

“Okay, look. Who’s this girl, one of the girls from your cult?”

“Yeah, Faye, do you know her?”

“Erwin’s ex-girlfriend? Seriously?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you convince her to keep quiet or pay her off?”

“I could convince her to keep quiet.”

“Well there you go.”

“But I don’t want to.”

“Okay.”

I say, “The truth is, you’re right that I pretended for a while. And I did freak out when I had sex. And I’m not even freaking out as much as I did then, now that there’s real consequences. Maybe it’s because… I’m tired of this. I’m tired of lying. I want the truth to come out. Even though it makes me nauseous to think about it.”

“You’re human. I’m glad you finally figured that out.”

I laugh. “Even the messiah is just a person.”

“We’re all just people.”

I say, “But if I hadn’t done this, then maybe that wouldn’t have been true, you know what I mean? I could have been more and since this is my world, it would have been possible.”

“Your world.”

“I don’t mean my world, like I’m God. Well, maybe I do, in a way.”

“Well aren’t you God?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to believe. But even if I’m not God, in a way, I am God no matter what. My perceptions, beliefs, and actions form reality. My reality, but in a way that’s all of reality. I’m the one experiencing it. I don’t know if you exist, I only know I exist. This could all be my dream and it adjusts to the person I choose to be. If I remain pure, if I don’t sin, then it’s possible. Then I can be the messiah. If I turn out to be only human and flawed, the world only consists of normal humans with flaws.”

“You’re saying your beliefs make the world, not the other way around.”

“Yeah. My beliefs and my experiences.”

“But it’s not true. You can’t go through life acting as if this world only exists to you. Reality is real, it’s not subjective. It’s not dependent on you.”

“Not any more, it isn’t.”

“Do you honestly think something as insignificant as you losing your virginity changes the meaning of the whole world?”

I think.

I say, “Looking back, no. But living through it, yes. It changed my world, so it changed the whole world.”

She says, “But this world is real for all of us, we all share it. Even if you didn’t see it before, it was always true. We’re not figments of your imagination, everyone’s experience is as real as yours.”

I shrug.

She says, “I can’t tell if you really believe all this, or if you’re just playing with the idea.”

“Sometimes I don’t know myself.” I shrug. “I have to move forward from here. I can’t change the past.”

“God could.”

I laugh. “Kicking me when I’m down?”

She smiles and says, “So if you have to move forward from here, in this world, what are you going to do differently?”

I say, “Good question.”