The Gospel According to Luke (10 page)

‘For you, of course.' She touched his face.

‘You don't get anything out of it at all?'

‘I get to watch you – '

‘No.' He drew away. ‘I mean, do you get anything out of it
spiritually
? Are you getting any closer to God?'

‘Luke, I don't believe in God. I can't get close to someone who doesn't exist.'

He scowled. ‘He exists.'

‘No, Luke. We exist. We're real.
I'm
real.' She held her arms out wide.

‘I know.' He took her in his arms and pressed his face into the side of her neck. ‘I know, I know.'

She held her breath, but he stepped away almost immediately. Suddenly the lights went out, and she could hear him breathing beside her in the dark.

She heard a match strike. ‘Does this candle exist?' His smiling face was illuminated.

She sank into the nearest chair. ‘Yes, Luke, the candle exists.'

‘And you know that because you can see it, right?'

‘Yawn.'

He leant forward and then it was dark. ‘Okay, what about now?'

‘The candle still exists even though I can't see it. Just like God. Point well made, bravo. Bloody hell, Luke, I'm not twelve.'

‘No, you're not. You don't get it though, you really don't. You want certainty and you'll never get that. Certainty is missing the point. Faith is about this. Just sitting in the dark, feeling confused and scared. Feeling like you just can't hold on anymore. Like you're going to just . . . Not knowing if the light's ever coming back on, but hanging in there anyway. Just letting it be dark.'

She reached into the darkness and found his face, felt his eyelids, nose, chin, lips. His hand met hers as it travelled down his neck; he held her still. She said his name and he coughed, jolted away and then he was on the other side of the room and the light was back on.

‘And just when you don't expect it . . .' He gestured toward the bulb, but his eyes were on his feet.

Aggie picked up her candle, stood on shaky legs and said good night and sobbed harder than she had in years as she drove home. She cried herself to sleep, only to wake after an hour. Disoriented, headachy, mad, she grabbed the candle and pushed it inside herself.

Toward the end of Belinda's
Christian Dating? There's no such thing!
presentation, it occurred to Luke that his relationship with Aggie had moved from the white zone of Witnessing to the blue area of Buddies, was currently placed in the yellow band of Special Friendship and was fast approaching the Red Hot Danger Zone of Intimacy. The next step – according to Belinda's presentation – was kissing. ‘And once the kissing starts,' she said, ‘it takes a strong, strong person to call a halt. Better to catch things before they reach that stage. Better to prove to your special friend how much you respect them
and
how much you love the Lord by keeping those lips unlocked.'

Luke agreed with every word Belinda said, and equally, he was convinced that he was stronger and more in love with God and more respectful of his special friend than the average strong, loving, respectful Christian man. If he could hold Aggie's hand, if he could touch her crazy hair, if he could feel her breast pressing against his arm and her hipbone knocking against his and still not give in to the temptation to commit sexual sin against his own body, then surely taking her face between his palms and drawing her mouth towards his would not cause an unstoppable slide into adulterous sin.

He waited until the kids had filed out of the hall, then ran to his office to put on his good denim jacket and fix his hair. He wondered if he should go to his room and brush his teeth or if sucking on a Mentos would be enough. Out the window he could see Kenny playing a game of rugby with some of the younger boys and that Leticia and a few of the girls from this morning's group were cheering from the sidelines. Normally, he would go and join them, but today was not normal. Today he was going to kiss Agatha Grey.

‘Ah, Luke?'

He turned and smiled, even as his heart sank. ‘Belinda. Great presentation this morning. I was thinking we could do something similar for the juniors? Maybe tone down the kissing stuff a little, talk more about the importance of having a broad range of friends?'

Belinda beamed. ‘Great idea. I'll work on it this weekend and you can let me know what you think.' She sat in his visitor's chair, crossed her legs and looked him up and down. ‘You're all spruced up. Going somewhere?'

‘Yeah, I was just on my way out. Did you want something?'

‘Actually, yeah . . . I, ah, I was hoping we could chat?'

He thought of Aggie's lips. Rosy pink with deep red corners which flashed at you when she laughed or yelled or yawned. ‘Of course,' he said. ‘What's on your mind?'

‘Well, it's just . . .' Belinda's smile slipped into a grimace. ‘It's kind of a sensitive topic, Luke, and I'm a little nervous about bringing it up.'

Luke resisted the impulse to roll his eyes. ‘You should know not to be nervous with me. Come on, now.'

‘Right, it's just . . . It's about Aggie Grey.'

‘Yes?' Luke was pleased at the neutrality of his tone.

‘People are wondering if . . .' Belinda raised her eyebrows. ‘People are wondering about your relationship with Aggie. Wondering if she's your, ah, girlfriend?'

‘Who's wondering?'

Belinda shrugged. ‘Everyone who's noticed how much time you spend with her.'

‘Aggie is not my girlfriend.'

‘Right, okay. So, ah . . .' Belinda grimaced again.

‘So, ah, what?'

‘Luke, come on. A month ago you had everyone in the community writing letters and printing banners against the woman, and now you spend all of your free time hanging out with her.'

‘The campaign was never against Aggie. It was against the clinic.'

‘Whatever. Point is, suddenly the clinic is okay and the woman who runs it is your best friend? What gives?'

Luke smiled and clenched his fists beneath the desktop. ‘The clinic is certainly not okay, and I'm shocked you would make such an inference. It became clear to me that we were going about things in the wrong way. Jesus taught understanding and peace, not aggression and righteousness. He was known for the company He kept. Prostitutes, thieves, people other religious leaders wouldn't go near – Jesus drew them close. He befriended the worst sinners in the land; He ate at their tables and drank from their cups. He didn't do that because He approved of their way of life. He did it to be the best friend a sinner ever had.'

‘Surely you don't compare yourself with Jesus? He was without human weakness; His motives were always pure. You must recall what Paul said about bad company?'

‘I am familiar with Paul's teachings, thank you,
Belinda. And I am most certainly not comparing myself with Jesus; I am simply trying to live by His example. We can talk all we like about how great God is, but it is through our actions that the unsaved judge us. By acting with compassion, tolerance, love, we
show
them the grace of God.'

Belinda smiled. ‘You're right, of course. I'm sorry for doubting you. It's just that people talk . . .'

‘Wonderful. Let them spread the word. We welcome sinners. We
embrace
them.'

‘Yes, wonderful!' Belinda got up. ‘You're very good to be so kind to unfortunates, Luke. We should all follow your example.'

‘Aggie is hardly an unfortunate. She's an accomplished young woman. She is not an object of pity, I assure you.'

‘So she
has
been saved?'

‘Not yet.'

‘Then I pity her.'

‘But she will be. It's my mission.'

Belinda came around to Luke's side of the desk, bent low and embraced him. He sat unmoving, allowing her to press his head to her chest. Her breasts were soft and warm beneath his face, but he felt nothing. ‘You're a good man, Luke.' Belinda straightened and smiled down at him. ‘If you say you're going to save her, then I believe you will.'

She left the room. Luke put his head on the desk. He stayed like that for an hour or more. When he
lifted his head again, his vision was blurred and his temples throbbed, but his mind felt clearer.

‘Ag, it's me.'

‘I was just thinking about you.'

‘I've been thinking about you too.'

‘Good things, I hope?'

‘I want you to sign up for introductory Bible study classes.'

She laughed. ‘What?'

‘Classes for people from a non-Christian background. We hold them at –'

‘There's no way.'

‘It's very important that you do this.'

Silence.

‘Aggie?'

‘Yes, that's me. Who are you?'

He closed his eyes and asked God to fill him up. ‘I'm trying to help you.'

‘You want to help me, then go get me some noodles from down the road. I'm starving.'

‘This is serious. I've been neglecting my duty. Your soul is in –'

‘Enough, Luke, okay? Drop it.'

He was silent.

‘Are you going to say anything?'

‘Why, Aggie?'

‘Because I don't like one-sided conversations.'

‘Why won't you open your mind to the possibility
that I might actually know what I'm talking about? I truly have your interests at heart here.'

‘I swear to God, Luke, I'm going to hang up if you don't stop this shit.'

‘I don't mind the swearing, but can you please not blaspheme?'

Click
.

‘How can anyone be so completely – ugh!' Aggie stalked the length of the clinic, glancing at the NCYC each time she passed the window. She had been doing this for so long her legs were getting tired, but sitting down felt like giving up. ‘He doesn't seem to have the slightest clue how to talk to other human beings. It's like he's been brought up by wolves!'

‘Maybe if you did some work you'd feel better?'

Aggie pulled a face at Mal, who was intent on his monitor and so did not see her anyway. ‘I have a client at twelve. Until then, I intend to pace.'

‘Can you do it elsewhere? I'm trying to concentrate.'

Aggie stuck her tongue out. ‘You're a shitty friend.'

‘You're a shitty employee. Do some fucking work.'

Aggie sat on Mal's desk, pushing several thick folders to the floor. He swore. Aggie lay down, her head on his keyboard, her feet hanging over the edge. Mal poked her in the ribs. ‘Get off my desk.'

Aggie spread her arms, knocking something cold and heavy off the desk and crumpling several papers under her elbows. ‘I just don't get it. The chemistry is out of this world. Every time we see each other it's like . . . God, you've seen us together, Mal, don't you think he seems keen? He seems so . . . ah, I don't know.'

‘He's a wanker; you're great and deserve much better. Now get off my fucking desk.'

‘I feel like Luke's the one. Like this is meant to be, you know?'

‘You said that about Matthew.'

That was true. But she had only said it because he kept coming back to her, and it seemed impossible that someone as brilliant as Matthew would keep returning to someone as dull as Aggie unless the hand of fate was pushing him. This was different; when she was with Luke she knew that they were destined to be enemies, but that she would easily tear the universe into shreds if it tried to stop her having him. Aggie told Mal this and he stopped trying to force her head off his keyboard and instead stroked her hair.

‘However strong the attraction, it would never work long term. His values are diametrically opposed to yours.'

‘Not all of them. He's honest and trustworthy. He's a pacifist. He believes that ending poverty is the way to stop terrorism. He's on the front line of the battle against racism and prejudice, and he is just so unbelievably compassionate. You know he –'

‘Ag, he hates gays.'

‘No, he doesn't. He loves the sinner and hates the – fuck, Mal, I know, okay? I know. But it's not his fault. He's a good man who's been brainwashed into believing these awful things. He's ill, really. He uses religion the same way an alcoholic uses booze. And Mal, I
know
addiction, right? I'm good with addicts. I just have to get him to –'

‘Lose his religion?'

‘Yeah.' Aggie sighed. ‘How do I do that?'

‘Auschwitz did it for me.'

‘What? You were never religious.'

Mal snorted. ‘I try and block out the memory, but I was a genuine guilt-racked Catholic boy for the first decade and a half of my life. I went to confession every single day the year I turned fifteen, constantly terrified that a bus would hit me between my boyfriend's house and the church, and I would be condemned to an eternity in the fires of hell. Then I learnt about Auschwitz, and I was instantly cured. I sat there in history class, listening to Sister Marguerite recite the list of diseases and tortures and extermination techniques, and I was just hit with this . . . this epiphany. Not only did God allow this atrocity to occur, but He would
surely approve, since He Himself condemned fags and Jews to eternal torment. I decided that if God was on the side of Hitler, then He could shove His heaven up His supernatural arse.'

‘Hurrah for you. Did you convert your mum too? She's the least religious old broad I know.' Aggie went to Mal's mother's for Christmas dinner every year and the three of them got shit-faced and competed to invent the filthiest substitute lyrics for popular Christmas Carols. Mrs Addison had won last year with her rendition of ‘The Twelve Lays of Christmas'.

‘Dad was the mad Catholic. When he died, Mum kept going out of habit until Father O'Brien told her she couldn't continue to take communion as long as she allowed me to carry on my
lifestyle
under her roof. She never took communion again. She still calls red wine “blood of Christ” sometimes.'