That evening
11:30 p.m. EST
Sleep on hold, sitting at his bar nursing his fourth, or was it fifth, Glenlivet, playing around with that never ending editorial, Zack glanced over draft notes scrawled on a yellow pad: How far society has come in four thousand years. And before that who blocked the entrance to the cave? And what will you say when they ask you why you did nothing, said nothing? Excuse me, I didn’t know? So sorry.
He burped. “Zorry this, zorry that—zo-orry is what you say when you don’ give a damn.”
He put his pencil down and swore he smelled cigar smoke. Joe Case’s presence strong, he remembered Joe’s ramblings from conversations here and there:
Love, hate. Order, chaos. Blackness, light. Give, take. Mostly take…how many steaks can you eat a week…we live, on this tiny speck of dust in vast universe, to date only life discovered, all of us even smaller specks, three races–Negroid, Mongoloid, Caucasoid–all basically the same, killing each other over lines on a map, religion, whose god is god…at any given moment, in the hands of fat cats living in glass mansions, protecting their bank accounts, human species ten minutes from extinction…profit has no home, men kill, women weep, children die…and who will say the eulogy at that funeral…Capitalism is an innocent driven by obscene greed masters, an ideal gutted by more, driven by cruel me-me masters with sharp teeth…
“That’s not news, Joe, its ancient history, and besides, you could stay stuck in that philosophical cow patty from now until the bulls come home. Never get out.”
Zack remembered his previous Jesuit life and the many convoluted thoughts–a higher calling, God’s absence, Christ’s teachings, affairs of individuals, do unto others, rotting flesh…
The last pausing him, he said, “Where did you come from?”
He sipped and remembered, while consuming a case of beer, all-night philosophical debates with fellow seminarian Hank Bostick over Aquinas’s Summa Theologica, the five logical arguments for the existence of God.
With the clarity of eighty proof Glenlivet, he slurred through Aquinas’s arguments:
“Motion—whatever is put in motion has to be put in motion by another…ball on a flat floor doesn’t start moving by itself. Something starts it—a person, an earthquake, the windMary O’Brien.”
“She moves by herself.”
Zack sipped, and Hank seemed present. “Hey, Hank, last I heard you were a parish priest. St. Joseph’s in Steubenville.”
Hank said, “That’s correct.”
“You still eat a grape jelly and peanut butter sandwiches, wash it down with beer?”
No answer, he went on with Aquinas. “Anyway, efficient cause—in the world of senses there is no cause of a thing which is the cause of itself. In other words, Skippy didn’t cause Planter’s Peanuts.”
Zack freshened his scotch.
Nursing his drink, he continued. “Possibility and necessity–in nature things are possible-to-be and possible not-to-be. But if everything is possible-not-to-be then at one time there could have been nothing in existence, which is not possible.”
He sucked his teeth. “If possibly everything wasn’t, nothing existed, why are we here? I mean, here I stand with Glenlivet in my hand talking to Veracity. Hello.”
He saluted the TV. “Benny would be proud.”
Pacing the cabin: “Where were we? Yes, number four, graduation to be found in things. You see, some things are more good and some less good. As a thing that’s hot resembles that which is hottest so there’s something that is truest, noblestergo, there must be something which is alike to beings and the cause of their being.”
He put a finger in his drink, “Always had trouble with that one.”
He slurped. “Last but not least, governance of the world. Things which lack intelligence, such as natural bodies, act for an end evident from their acting. Moon going around the earthwhatever. Something lacks intelligence cannot move toward an end unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence.”
Smiling, he held his glass high. “That explains Benny.”
Suddenly depressed, he sat on the sofa, “Like I said, you could stay in Aquinas’ cow patty until the bulls come home…and where are you when the cows do come home?”
His phone rang. He got up, maneuvered to the bar and switched it on.
Mary, in a close-up, smiled. Looks like Botticelli’s Venus, he thought and, leaning over the bar, said, “What are you doing?”
“How’s the ear?”
“The ear is wonderful.”
“Finishing up here, printers got everything.”
“Jim’s, too?”
“Yes.”
“How was it?”
“Want me to read it?”
“Go ahead.”
She picked up a piece of copy. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
She read: “Chief Denies It. Recalling a famous historical TV commercial, ‘Is it live or is it Memorex,’ questions remain unanswered regarding the already infamous Channel 10 video of two Miami police officers murdering a female motorist. The incident allegedly took place this past Thursday evening on Key Largo. WSUN-TV, Channel 10, was the first station to broadcast the video of the homicide. Deputy Police Chief Glenda Bruno staunchly denies that any Miami police were involved in any way. In an exclusive interview, she held firm to her story that none of her patrol cars were anywhere near Key Largo the night of the incident. Speaking for the chief, they challenged anyone to produce evidence the officers on the tape were their people. If Glenda and the chief are correct, the million-dollar question looms big as a Mack truck: who were the alleged officers on the tape? One thing is certain—an African-American woman was murdered. Monroe County Sheriff’s deputies discovered her body early Friday morning. Her identity remains a mystery.”
Mary looked into the camera. “Not bad, huh?”
“Hits the nail onna head.”
“Are you drinking?”
“You tell Jim ‘bout the meeting tamorra?”
“Are you drinking?”
“No, pr-aying.”
“Liar, you’re drinking. What are you doing up this late?”
“You wakened me.”
“Baloney, what are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“Me, too.”
“Bout what?”
“If I had gone into the sisterhood, I’d be a Mother Superior by now.”
“D-minus” He sucked his ice cubes.
“So what are we going to do?”
“Bout what?”
“Us.”
“I don’ know.”
“I think you do.”
“I think I do, too.” His eyes closing. “I have t’ get some sleep.”
“Why don’t I come to Veracity, nurse your booboo?”
“Stay there, use my office couch.”
“Ted’s got it.”
“Kick em out.”
“He’s sleeping.”
“See ya tamorra, be carefu drivin ome.”
“Don’t drown.”