CHAPTER 28

The Brick Tissue Box

Surrounded by fellow students in the middle of his own living room, Billy shook his head in frustration. “I am not understanding this at all.” It was clear that others in the group were agreeing with him.

Immediately, Mike’s eyes went wild with anger. “Oh? I understand. I understand completely. Allow me to explain it to you. Apparently this Mr. Darcy, or whatever he is, is way too good to talk to Mr. Collins. He is just another rich snob. He probably sees Mr. Collins as being so far beneath him that he isn’t even worth his contempt.” That sentence may have been worded strangely, but he managed to get his point across.

The dozen or so students around the room were momentarily startled by Mike’s outburst. It stood in contrast with the indulgent voices that had been reading the book out loud. First, the power outage caused by a cantankerous dryer caught everyone off guard; now an explosive reaction from Mike. What next? A herd of spooked bison?

Wesley shifted unnervingly in his chair. He might have been having fun earlier talking to Billy, Curtis, and this interesting girl Lauren, but not so much now. He knew that Mike’s comment may have been made in general, but he still felt that it was directed at him.

Fortunately, Maggie was there to save the day. She had read the book twice before (including once last year in Mr. Harris’ class) and had seen one of the many movie versions. She was not exactly playing hostess or a leader of the group, but she was able to speak up and help them out. She brushed her hair to the side and said, “That’s not it at all. It’s all a question of propriety.”

Billy’s face was already rather blank. But somewhere down in there, he spoke up. “Propriety? What do you mean?”

She clarified. “It’s all about what is socially appropriate or inappropriate.”

Mike acted as if this were personal. Sometimes, people are deliberately trying to be offended no matter what. This was one of those times. “So it is inappropriate for this Mr. Collins to even speak to Mr. Darcy? Why? Just because he’s rich?”

Curtis had been silently thinking about what had been said. “No. I don’t think that is what they are saying at all. I think it is because they have not been formally introduced by a common friend.” He turned his eyes to Maggie. “At least, that’s how it sounds. Is that it?”

Maggie pulled one of her legs up in the chair. “That is it exactly. In this culture that we are reading about, that is simply not done. To speak to someone of his class socially, you need to have a formal introduction, and it has to be made by a common acquaintance.”

Mike looked back at her. “Speaking of introductions, who are you exactly?”

Berly finally spoke up in a dismissive voice. “It’s okay. This is Maggie. She’s with me.”

Mike wanted to ask, And just who are you supposed to be, friend of Maggie? But he stopped himself. Instead, he leaned back in his chair. “Well, I would have a difficult time living in that culture, I can tell you that! If I want to meet someone, I’ll march right up to that person. I’m not shy. And I don’t care who they are. No one is better than anyone else.” Mike sat straight up in his chair and looked directly at Wesley with fiery eyes. “And if any of these rich, uppity people don’t like it, they can either get over it or get out of my face.”

The recipient of that comment was difficult to miss. Everyone was quiet. Billy sat in his seat stunned by his friend’s obvious rudeness. This was not how tonight was supposed to be. Having all these kids over to read a couple of chapters in this classic book may have been a total mistake. He looked around the room at the other students to see if anyone else was as uncomfortable as he was. The truth was that they were all uncomfortable, but none more than Wesley. The implication was clear and unapologetic.

Like some unscripted, messed-up joke, Diane walked in with a big plate full of brownies. “Some additional brownies are ready. Why don’t you all take about a ten minute break and grab some while they’re warm?” The other students complied, eager to lay hands on them while they were nice and soft. Mr. Harris even marched in with plastic cups and a second gallon of cold milk - - whole milk! The students were prepared to drink it up like kittens.

Curtis rushed over to Billy. He had definite concerns about Mike’s attitude toward Wesley. This was inexcusable. Other guests may have missed it, but they caught it head-on. “Can I see you for a minute? We need to talk about this.” They disappeared back down the hall and into Billy’s bedroom.

Mike sat there, his eyes still cruelly fixed on his target.

Likewise, Wesley sat paralyzed in his seat, completely aware of Mike’s stare. Everyone else had gotten up and were walking around engaging in polite banter. He wanted to follow their lead; but as long as Mike was giving him the cold stare, that seemed impossible. After a moment, Wesley gathered the nerve to get up out of his seat and started quietly for the door. He figured that he might as well go back home. Obviously, his presence was a distraction. His noiseless departure remained unnoticed by everyone - - everyone, that is, except for Mike, who began to grin.

Students were talking. Brownies were being devoured at an alarming rate. In a few minutes, Wesley’s absence would be noticed by Lauren, as well as the two boys. But he was gone with no announcement, no goodbye, nothing.

Mike spoke to no one. He kept looking up at the closed door. It had only been just a few short seconds since Wesley left, but Mike was not yet finished. He still had more to get off his chest. He sprang to his feet and exited the house, making a beeline for the departing Wesley. Perhaps he could catch him before he got to his car.

Outside, Mike yelled after Wesley with his arms extended. “Hey! Moneybags! Where are you going? Weren’t you enjoying the book reading? Or was the conversation amongst us surfs not stimulating enough for you?” Without missing a beat, Mike went straight into a bitterly sarcastic tone. “Oh wait! I think I just broke some sort of protocol. We haven’t been formally introduced yet.”

Wesley was just reaching his car when he stopped and turned to face Mike. “I’m sorry, but is there something that I have done to offend you?”

Mike took one step forward and his voice became low and stern. “Your whole being offends me – you and your fancy car and your big house, all your pricy clothes and the snobby way that you conduct yourself. Is that why you came out here tonight? To show off in front of the bourgeois?”

Wesley opened his car door. “No. Far from it. Aside from trying to get a better grasp on this book …” He held up his phone and then tossed it onto the passenger seat. “ …I guess I came out looking for some friends, people to socialize with. But it looks like I came to the wrong place for that.”

“You can say that again, Wesley Porterfield the third.”

Wesley looked down at the road and seriously thought about getting in his car right then. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked back up at Mike. This time, it was Wesley that was giving the piercing look. “You know what’s so funny? Most people want to be my friend because of my family’s money. You actually dislike me because of it. So once again, people don’t see me at all; all they can see is the money. I don’t know what it is about it, but it always seems to distance me from being in the loop. But I did learn something valuable tonight while I was here. When it comes right down to it, you’re just as big a hypocrite as I have ever seen in my life.”

That was it. From where Mike was standing, that Rubicon was crossed and that bridge was burning. “A what? A hypocrite?”

“You heard me.”

“And just what is THAT supposed to mean?”

With keys in hand and his hands on the top of the car, Wesley leaned toward the car and looked over the top at Mike. “You may not know this but you and your little friends have a reputation; and it’s a good one. Everyone in the school talks about how great you are, you and Clay, Billy, and Curtis. People really look up to you – and you don’t even see it. You four are supposed to be these really awesome Christians. I really don’t know what any of this Christian stuff is; but I can promise you one thing - - if THIS is what Christianity is all about, then I don’t want any part of it. You’re just another jerk - - and your friends probably are too. Just sayin’.”

Touché. Mike was a rather mouthy person and has been pretty much all his life. But for the first time in perhaps ages, he was actually without words. Could Wesley be right about him? He was supposed to have been reflecting the love of God to those around him. Rather than just standing there dumbstruck or trying to defend himself, he slowly turned around and started to walk back toward the house.

“See you around the school, Christian.” Hate-filled scorn stabbed its way through the night air and hit Mike right in the craw. In spite of his tough exterior, those words stung. Behind him, he heard the car door slamming shut.

For a split second, Mike had a thought.

He thought of his parents and the other ‘scrollers’ at their church – or that is the moniker that the four boys secretively gave them. While their pastor was preaching the Word of God, the ‘scrollers’ spent the entire time scrolling up and down on their phones. These were the folks who sometimes spent the service texting each other back and forth debating where they were going to eat after church rather than listening to the message. When the service was dismissed, Mike’s parents and others were out the church doors like racehorses right out of the gate. The boys sometimes wondered how often someone unintentionally stomped on Bro. Wayne’s feet as they sprinted to their cars.

This embarrassed Mike to no end because he knew that their pastor was the type of person who prayed hard over the messages and was no stranger to study. Bro. Wayne never went into a church service unprepared. He did all the work of a pastor while holding down another job, going to school one night a week, and trying to spend time with his family. Mike and the other boys considered it rude of his parents to be surfing the internet while the preacher was delivering his sermon. After all, these sermons were messages that God had put on his heart. They owed it to him to hear it out. Plus, it was only for their benefit.

Mike also knew that Bro. Wayne was not an idiot. There was no one-way mirror between the pastor and his congregation. He could easily see what all was going on. For example, there was a huge difference between someone who accessed a Bible app on their phone and those who were surfing the internet and/or playing games during the message. He also knew who was using that time as a quick power nap. Some of the kids were writing notes to each other and laughing amongst themselves. Impatient people were constantly looking at their watches. And just because these people were sitting in pews, it did not mean that they were invisible to someone at the pulpit. Mike felt that this behavior was a pointed insult to the pastor – and yet, Bro. Wayne never said a word of complaint.

Afterwards, his family would go out to eat and that was a nightmare all its own. If someone who sat down after them got served before they were, or if the food was not done just right, or they added up the amount incorrectly, Mike’s mom was ready to do battle with the manager. But Mike was told by friends who worked in the restaurant business that that was typical. The Sunday lunch crowd was the worst. Mike often wondered if his mom understood that their server might not know Christ. They may be the only Jesus that this person would ever see – and their family had been setting a terrible example.

And now Mike was becoming the very thing that he disliked in his parents: prideful, arrogant, essentially all the things he accused Wesley of being. This was not cool. In addition, it was one thing for Wesley to think that way about Mike, but now Mike’s attitude was being connected to Billy, Curtis, Clay, and all other Christians. And who would ever think that way about Clay?

In that frozen moment in time, a revelation came to Mike. He was being judgmental when he himself had issues to iron out with God. Just because he was not scrolling on his phone during church, who was to say that he was listening to the message? His mind was often on other things during that time as well – and he would be lying to say otherwise. And even though some people were on their phones, how was he to know if they were hearing the sermon or not? Some folks can to two things at once – even though it might look rude. It was certainly not his place to pass judgment on these others.

But instead of looking at all the faults of other people, he realized that he needed to address the faults within himself. He and God had a lot of work to do; he needed to roll up his sleeves and start cleaning his own house. This was called humility, something he had lost contact with over time. The others may need to have that long talk as well; but that was entirely between them and God.

In that moment, Mike was determined to be different, to be genuine, to be more Christ-like. He needed to reacquaint himself to what Scripture called his “first love.”

As that split second ended, Wesley started his engine.

No. This cannot be the way God intended it to be. Mike had failed God and he could not just let the conversation end this way. He turned and started back toward Wesley’s car.

Wesley glanced over and saw Mike approaching. He cursed. “I don’t have time for this,” he said to himself. He threw the car in drive and stepped on the gas. The tires on his sporty new car squealed as he sped away from the Harris’ house. In the back windshield, he could see Mike running after him and waving his arms. “What is that fool doing now? Is he trying to hit my car? Does he want a fight?” Fortunately, it was too late; Wesley was headed home.

In the meantime, Mike stopped running. After a couple of deep breaths, he turned back.

Other than half of a brownie, Wesley had not eaten anything over at the Harris’ house and was feeling a little hungry. He ran in at that little place next to the bookstore and grabbed one of their popular ghost-pepper cheeseburgers and some fries to go. He planned to eat in the solitary atmosphere of his own home. At least there, he was welcome. He himself wondered how he was feeling. Furious or sad? Maybe it was a tossup. He had really hoped to be making friends, real friends - - not the vain, superficial friends that he was used to. Instead, all he found were fake Christians. The last thing the world needed was a bunch of people who were all too willing to talk about the love they have for everyone, but say the opposite with their actions. Those could be found in abundance.

But even he had to admit that Billy and Curtis were very friendly to him that evening. And as far as he knew, Clay had always treated him nicely. He was also curious about this girl he had just met. She seemed cool. But Mike was awful. The good news is that this evening was done. He had spoken his mind and was about to shut himself up in that huge fortress he called home.

His handsome sports car quietly rolled up into the driveway and came to a stop along the side of the house. Wesley turned off the engine and sat there quietly for the next ten seconds or so. Deep depression began to overwhelm him. The sun had gone down a while ago and his surroundings were finally showing signs of the darkening night. He reached in the bag and ate a small pinch of fries.

Climbing out of the car, he heard another car on the approach. He dismissed the sound at first, but this other car stopped right in front of his house. This sounded suspicious enough. Interested, Wesley turned and found Mike making a deliberate leap out of his car.

“Wesley! Hold up!” Mike began running up to him.

Wesley suddenly found himself in defense posture. He realized that he had no weapon with him. Maybe he could knock his assailant out with the cheeseburger. If he had to, he could thrust it in Mike’s mouth and let the ghost pepper work its magic. “Mike, I’m in no mood to …”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I didn’t come over to fight.” Mike thought under the circumstances to stop and maintain a safe distance; he realized that he had adequately ticked off Wesley and did not want to make matters any worse. He had done enough damage for one night. Now he wondered if he could fix something for a change. “I actually came over to apologize.”

“Apologize? You? Yeah, right.”

There was quite a lot that Mike needed to say and he was not sure how this was going to come out. But it was time to jump in with both feet. “Look. I just wanted to say that you were absolutely right, right about me, right about almost everything. And I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. The truth is that I have not been a very good Christian lately. I freely admit that I am extremely imperfect. But please don’t let my poor attitude and my obvious imperfections taint your views on God. Fortunately, the God I worship is perfect. He’s perfect and loving and forgiving. And trust me, if He can forgive someone as imperfect as me, then He is indeed a mighty powerful God. Our churches are filled with imperfect people; but that’s who God wants. He has seen value in me – value that I don’t even see in myself. And I know for a fact that He sees value in you. So if you are on your own quest for God, I truly want for you to find Him. And please don’t let someone like me – with all my flaws – stand in your way.” That was about it, but he did not really know how to end his little speech. So he simply added, “I guess the bottom line is I’m sorry for the way I have acted.” He looked down and noticed the bag of fast food in Wesley’s hand and took a step back to leave. “I’ll, uh … I’ll just leave you now to whatever you were doing.” He turned and started to walk back to his car.

Wesley honestly did not know how to react. This was the first time that he had ever seen Mike acting in a way that was not full of bottled-up hate. Searching for something to say, he looked up at Mike’s car sitting in front of his house. “Dude, did you follow me all the way to my house in order to apologize? How did you do that? I made a stop on the way.”

Mike turned back and grinned. He was a little embarrassed by the question. It did seem that he went out of the way - - but that was not all of the truth. “Follow would not be the most accurate word. I would’ve come out here at some point anyway.” He pointed to a large white-bricked house with Doric columns surrounding the entry way. “I live just right over there in that oversized dog house, the brick tissue box.”

“Huh? You live over there? Are you talking about that house with the gazebo on the side? The one with the outlandish fountain in the front? The house with the practically naked statues around a pool in the back? I make fun of that house all the time!”

Mike was laughing. “Yeah. It’s a little gaudy, isn’t it?”

“Well, it certainly has a style of its own.”

Now both boys were laughing.

“Well, that’s a diplomatic way of putting it. My parents aren’t like independently wealthy or anything. But they do make more money than most people in this town and feel like they have to have the biggest and best thing out there. But I don’t like being there. It’s always, ‘Take those shoes off. Don’t touch this. Don’t smudge that.’ They even have a game room that I am not allowed in unless my dad is home. Sometimes I think they love their stuff more than they love me. Once I had my friend Clay over and …” He paused and looked up at Wesley. Just a few minutes ago, Mike hated Wesley’s guts and now he was about to confide in him. Weird. Maybe he should dismiss the thought. “Actually, you don’t want to hear all about that.”

Wesley’s mind began to work. “Uh, Mike. May I ask you a personal question?”

“Uh … I suppose so.”

“Is your problem with me actually about me? Or is it more about my money and because your parents have money?”

Mike’s eyes blinked and then looked toward the ground. “Well, that’s a toughie. I never thought about it like that before. Maybe.”

“It sounds to me like your problem is with your parents. And maybe you’ve been directing all of that frustration out on me. Okay. So your parents have money. Is that wrong?”

Mike felt inclined to answer even though he may not like what he had to say. “Uh, not really. I guess not. At least they earn their money. But I do sometimes wish that they didn’t have so much of it. They would pay more attention to … Well, the money just makes my parents different.”

“Different? How?”

Mike was hesitant at first. This was stuff that he had not told the others – especially Clay, and Clay was his best friend. It made them sound so spoiled. “Well, my folks just do weird things, and it is all because of their money. As an example, they flew down to Mexico last year for the Fall Equinox. They went down there to catch a shadow that appears that day in this place called Chichen Itza. The shadow looks like a snake on the side of a pyramid. But naturally, they got bored with it and left before this thing began. Why would they fly all the way down there just to go back to their hotel and watch it on TV? But that’s how my parents roll. The month before that, they went skiing in Colorado and before that it was some beach in Florida and before that it was something else … They love to spend lots of money on nothing. And they’re constantly posting pictures on social media of all this money they throw around. It’s like their way of bragging to all their family and friends. It’s embarrassing. And then there’s the dogs …”

“The dogs? Oh yeah. I hear them barking every so often.”

“Oh yes. I’m sure you do. My mom calls them her babies.” Mike rolled his eyes at the thought. “They have like ten Pomeranians and they are so annoying. They bark all day and half the night. If one starts, they all start. Ugh.”

Mike and Wesley stood there talking for the next ten to fifteen minutes. Mike had Wesley laughing at his stories about those dogs. He explained how they were all named after cities that have hosted the Olympic Games. He also said that his friends do not really come over much because he did not want them to feel poor – and this was mostly for Clay. But he used the dogs’ constant racket as an excuse.

Mike again looked down at the bag from the restaurant and realized that he was keeping Wesley from eating. The ghost pepper cheese may be hot, but the burger itself would be cold. Mike was not doing Wesley any favors by standing there for so long. “Well, I had better be getting home. … or maybe back to that reading party over at Billy’s.” He looked at the time on his phone. “ …or like I said, home.” Mike turned to head back to his car.

“Hey, Mike!”

“Yeah?”

“We never did find out how this party ended - - not the one at Billy’s house, the one in the book. You know, the dance with Mr. Darcy, Mr. Collins, and all them Bennett girls.”

Mike pondered over this idea for just a moment. He smiled back and suggested, “Maybe after Mr. Darcy was insulted, a bunch of ninjas fell from the ceiling and killed Mr. Collins.”

Wesley began to rub his chin and stare off into the distance. “A violent plot twist. I like.”

After a quick laugh, both boys made their farewells. When Wesley went back into his house, he had determined that this night was not a total waste and that maybe he found what he was looking for after all - - a friend. The strangest part was that this new friend was the most unlikely of people, the one person who hated him the most.

Mike also felt that he had gained something interesting as he hopped back into his car. In his case, there was a renewed interest in being the best Christian that he could be. That desire had finally been restored. Perhaps for years, he had been growing more and more apathetic toward his relationship with God. But now he could see that people were watching him from afar. He did not realize it at first, but he was representing God at his school. Yes, an ambassador for Christ. It was a very flattering responsibility. And who knows? Maybe the opportunity of becoming the best Christian possible could be a fun challenge. We will see, he thought as he started the engine.