The Furies Read Free Page B

doesn’t make sense?” he said. “When something bad happens, the church always says there’s some mysterious reason for it. They say you have to accept all the shit that happens in life because it’s part of God’s divine plan.”
    â€œYes, exactly.” She nodded and took a sip of wine. “I hate that, too. It’s like saying, ‘You’re not smart enough to understand God, so don’t even try to make sense of things.’ It’s so condescending.”
    â€œIt’s worse than that.” John raised his voice. “If someone did that to me for real? If someone fucked me over and tried to apologize by saying, ‘It’s all part of my mysterious plan’? I’d be pretty damn pissed.” He wanted to say something stronger, something about shooting the motherfucker in the head, but he restrained himself.
    â€œI’m with you, John.” Ariel raised her wineglass and took a bigger sip this time. Then she set down her glass, which was nearly empty, and rested her hand on his forearm again. “We agree that God doesn’t exist in the universe right now. But here’s what gives me hope: there’s a chance that God will exist in the future.”
    â€œWhat?” He assumed this was a joke. Ariel was playing with him. “What are you talking about?”
    She looked straight at him, locking her eyes with his. “It’s simple. I believe we can change the world. We can make it a better place. And then God will be born.”
    â€œUh, I think I lost you.”
    â€œWe can make it happen. We can turn ourselves into angels and turn the earth into heaven, a real heaven. That’s our purpose in life—to bring God into the world.”
    Ariel was so close, only inches away. He could see the reflections of the track lights in her green irises. She wasn’t joking. Her face was absolutely serious. John couldn’t help but marvel at how serious she was. “So it’s like the Christmas story? We’re all headed for Bethlehem, waiting for Baby Jesus to be born?”
    She considered the idea for a moment, skewing her eyebrows in thought. Then she smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You’re a clever man, John Rogers.” She raised her glass once again and finished off her wine. “And you deserve a reward for your cleverness. I’m going to buy you a drink.”
    His throat tightened as Ariel turned around to get the bartender’s attention. Even though they’d just agreed that God didn’t exist—at least not yet—John directed a silent plea toward heaven. Her phone number, Lord. I need her number.
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    And the Lord, in His infinite wisdom, answered John’s prayer.
    He and Ariel spent the next three hours talking. At some point during the second hour, Ariel’s Wall Street friends got tired of flirting with the waitress; they shook hands with John and kissed Ariel goodbye before heading for another watering hole. Then someone turned up the volume of the bar’s loudspeakers and the room reverberated with the din of Lady Gaga. There was nothing to eat except the baskets of popcorn that the bartender placed in front of them, but John didn’t care. He was having the time of his life. He’d never met a girl like Ariel before. It was so easy to talk to her, so effortless. He told her stories about his mom and growing up in Kensington. He even told her a little about Carol, his ex-wife, which was a subject he usually avoided. Ariel was a great listener, always asking questions and making smart observations. It was amazing, he thought, that such a young woman could be so wise.
    Finally, at 11:00 P.M. , she looked at her watch and said she had to go. Her hotel was in Bushwick—a dicey part of Brooklyn, especially late at night—and she was planning to take the subway. John immediately offered to drive her there instead. It was only a half hour out of his way, he