The Good Atheist (18 page)

“Can you help?”

“What would you like us to do?”

Us? I wondered. “Did I come to the right place?”

“Yes.”

“Can you find a place for Paige to stay, or get word to someone in the underground to come pick her up?”

Jorge sat back down in his chair, and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Clearly she can’t stay with you. It’s too dangerous.”

“Can you get word to the underground?”

He paused for a moment. Then he said: “You just did.”

I sat in silence. A clock ticked from someplace in the house. Lights from a passing hovercar swept across the wall behind Jorge.

“I see. Will you help?”

“It’s not as simple as getting word to the others. I’ll want to find out how the breakdown in communication happened. Where the break in the link occurred. That may take a few days. I have to be careful – we may have been compromised at some point. But it’s too dangerous for Paige to stay with you. I will find alternative arrangements for her.”

“Where?”

“Probably best if I didn’t tell you that. But there are friends she can stay with who will keep her safe.”

“When?” I asked.

“Tomorrow sometime. Either myself or a friend will swing by to pick her up.”

That was all I needed to hear, and I stood up to go. “Thanks. I’ve taken up enough of your time. I appreciate this.”

Jorge saw me to the front door. He opened it and we stood outside. A choir of crickets and cicadas filled the warm summer night. “I have a few phone calls to make, but someone will be by tomorrow to pick her up.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Do you think they can still get her to Canada?”

“I will do my best. If they can’t, I can manage it. A lot depends on whether that cell has been rolled up or not. I guess it won’t hurt to tell you that much, anyway, since you’ve likely figured out as much. Ben and I never actually got people across the border. We kept them safe here, and made the necessary arrangements with the people who could. His cottage was the perfect place for this. Very private, out of sight. People could come and go without anyone noticing.”

“Have a lot of people passed through Grandpa’s cottage on their way to Canada?”

“Hundreds.”

“All Christians?”

“For the most part, but there have been plenty of people from other religions, not to mention atheists.”

That last bit surprised me. “Atheists?”

“Sure. It was radical atheism that took over the social agenda of the country, remember, led by a group who took the writings of Harris and Dawkins of the last century to heart. Ideas have consequences, and theirs were as bad as the religious fanatics they were so critical of. In fact they share many of the same cultic traits. Dogmatic insistence that their own narrow view is the only possible alternative for intelligent and enlightened people. Anyone who disagrees with them are just stupid, dangerously deluded and a threat to society. Intolerantly dismissive of any critical examination of their core beliefs. It’s cultic, and they don’t represent thoughtful moderates. Moderate atheists are persecuted as quislings and compromisers. We’ve had quite a few come through looking for asylum in Canada.”

This was getting to be way too much information. More than I wanted to know. “I need to get going,” I said.

“And I need to start making phone calls,” Jorge said. He put out his hand and we shook. “Thanks for coming to me with this, Jack.”

“I’m not so sure you should be thanking me,” I said.

“Do you mind if I ask what made you think of me?”

“It was just a logical deduction. Since Grandpa was running a safe house in the underground, it seemed like good odds some of his friends would know about it. You knew him better than anyone.”

I got in the car and drove away, feeling relieved that I’d found a solution. If all went well, Paige would be out of my hair by tomorrow afternoon. I could finish the garage roof, close up the cottage and be free to go home the day after tomorrow. I felt much better knowing that there was a plan. And, oddly, it felt good that I was helping Paige. My mind and education told me that I should be turning her in, but my heart argued differently. Paige wasn’t the crackpot fundamentalist we’d been warned about, and I’d decided to go with my heart.

That good feeling evaporated when I got back to the cottage.

13

A strange car sat in front of the cottage when I returned. I parked next to it, wondering who it might be. It was too soon to be Jorge or his friends coming for Paige. It might be Paige’s long delayed ride from the underground.

With a shudder it occurred to me it might be the Tolerance Bureau. I got out of my car and looked at the other car, and noticed the decal of Amazon Rentals on the side of the door. Relief washed over me. It was not likely the Tolerance Bureau used rental cars.

But I’d forgotten that my wife did.

I walked into the cottage, closed the door behind me, and turned around just in time to catch sight of an object speeding through the air towards my head. I tilted my head to one side and the missile whizzed by my ear and shattered against the door frame behind me.

I looked down at the floor. The remains of a small battery-powered clock lay in pieces at my feet.

“Quite the cozy little love nest you got here, dear!”

I looked up. Selene stood across the room next to the wall cabinet where the clock had sat.

“You’re aim is improving, honey,” I said.

She snorted and reached for a kerosene lantern. I was across the room in three strides and grabbed it from her hands. “Do you want to set the place on fire?”

“I’ll set you, this cottage, and all these blasted books on fire!” Her cheeks and eyes were red the way they always get when she is angry.

“Would you mind telling me what the problem is?”

Without saying a word, she inclined her head towards the couch. Paige sat there, looking very uncomfortable. I hadn’t noticed her when I came in. I’d been too busy ducking flying clocks. 

I put on a brave smile. After all, I didn’t have anything to be guilty of. Not really. At least not for what she was thinking. “I see you’ve met Paige.”

“Don’t get cute with me.”

Paige stood up. “I tried to explain things to your wife, Jack.”

“She’s a bit young for you, don’t you think, dear?”

“It’s not like that,” I said.

“I think I’ll just leave you two alone,” Paige said and started walking towards the bedroom where she stayed with the children.

“You stay right there,” Selene snapped at her. Paige froze, looking between me and Selene.

I grabbed Selene gently by the shoulders. “Selene, listen, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then you’d better tell me what it really is.”

I told her everything. Selene kept looking between me and Paige as I told her the whole story.

“So you see?” I said when it was finished. “There’s nothing to be jealous of. I’m just trying to help her out.”

Selene didn’t say anything. She just looked into my eyes, weighing my words, trying to decide what to believe.

I went for the close. “Have you ever known me to lie?”

“Well, no. You do have an annoying habit of being painfully honest. You’re almost neurotic about it.”

“And I’m telling you the truth now.”

“I’m going to check on Micah and Amanda,” Paige said and quickly left the room before Selene could say anything.

With Paige out of the room I drew Selene close. “You should know me better than that. I’ve never cheated and I never will.”

Selene forced a smile. “We still have a problem.”

“Oh?”

She stamped her foot and in a low, forceful whisper said, “Don’t be stupid! While I’m relieved to know you’re not having a fling, you are harboring a criminal wanted by the law. That’s a bit of problem, don’t you think?”

“She’s not a criminal.”

“According to the law, she is.”

“Her only crime is one of conscience.”

“That’s the worst kind!” she cried. “Those people are dangerous. Their crazy religious ideas are precisely what’s wrong with the world. And she is going to raise her kids that way too. The very least we could do is turn her in so that her children can be placed in a better home.”

“Paige is a good mother. It would break her heart,” I said.

“It’s for their own good. I’m not trying to be cruel.”

“I can’t do that to her.”

“I’m starting to really worry about you,” Selene said. “I’ve been worried since this business about your father came up. But now you’re risking too much for this runaway waif.”

“What am I risking?”

“Oh, come on. Not only are you starting to sympathize with religious fanatics, now you’re cooperating with the criminal underground and hiding fugitives.”

“First, they’re not fanatics. And second, there is very little chance I’m going to get caught. I don’t think the Tolerance people know about this place. If they did, they would have been here by now.”

“If you get caught, you’re going to jail. It’s against the law to provide aid or refuge to religious fugitives.”

“Does Paige strike you as a dangerous fanatic? She’s just a frightened girl wanting to keep her kids, persecuted by the law for nothing more than the opinions she keeps between her ears. I’m beginning to wonder who the dangerous fanatics really are. Why does the government feel so threatened by what’s inside this young girl’s head?”

“Oh, Jack, I was afraid of this.”

“Afraid of what?”

“You’re falling under the spell. The spell of religious delusion that weak-minded people succumb to.”

“I’m not weak-minded. Neither was my father or grandfather. Neither is Paige, by the way. You’ll see that once you get to know her.”

Selene shook her head slowly. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

“Selene, I’m still a good atheist, but I don’t have to believe nonsense about religious people in order to be an atheist. I don’t have to think that people who believe differently than I do are stupid and delusional and evil. That’s just bigotry, plain and simple.”

“Why is this so important to you, Jack?” Selene hissed. “I don’t care what happens to these people. They are nothing to me. I don’t know them, and I’m not going to risk losing everything just to help them.”

A clock on the wall reminded me how late the hour was, and I suddenly felt tired. “I’m too tired to argue about it any more, but I’m not turning her in, Selene. She doesn’t deserve that. Someone is coming tomorrow to get Paige, and this won’t be an issue anymore. I’m going to bed.”

She didn’t move or say anything, just looked at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but I could see she was still angry. There was nothing more I had to say. I left her in the living room and got ready for bed. I called to her once, asking her to come to bed, but she didn’t answer.

Later, as I lay awake in the dark, I heard Selene come into the bedroom. I felt her climb into the bed next to me and I rolled over to hug her, but she kept her back turned to me.

14

I’ve never slept well in strange beds. Hotels, friends’ places, relatives’ – I don’t sleep well, and the cottage bed still felt strange to me. Stranger still is the almost total quiet and complete darkness of the country at night. Growing up in the big city I had never realized just how – well – dark the night can be. In the city you have the ubiquitous background glow of a million lights. It never gets really dark. Not the kind of total darkness you find on a moonless night a million miles from civilization, where the darkness is so perfect you can feel it. You can’t see your hand in front of your face.

And the background hum and growl of the big city, like a huge living, breathing beast, is a familiar lullaby at night. The comforting background noise of the city is wholly absent out in the country. At night the loudest noise you hear is the blood in your ears. The strange bed, the near-perfect darkness, the disconcerting quiet – these all conspired to rob me of sleep. It made me yearn at times for the city. I normally slept like a log at home, but out here I slept lightly.

And so a soft click from the living room woke me up. It was a mechanical noise, out of place in the dark country night. I sat up and felt that the bed next to me was empty.

I swung my legs out of bed and stood up. A clock with glowing hands on the bedside table said it was four-thirty in the morning.

I went into the dark living room and flipped on a light. Selene stood in front of the door, her hand still on the latch, her coat still on. She turned around suddenly. “What are you doing up?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same.”

She just looked at me, but her eyes spoke volumes.

“What were you doing outside this early in the morning?” I asked.

She took off her coat and kicked her shoes off. “It’s for the best, Jack.”

I kept my voice low. “What have you done?”

“You were getting too carried away with this. Too involved. I had to do something.”

“Do what? What have you done?”

She left me standing in the living room and went silently into the kitchen. I pulled my shoes on and grabbed a flashlight that I kept on the table by the front door. I went outside to the cars. The rental car was cold, but the hood of our car was warm to the touch. I went back inside and found her sitting at the kitchen table, purse and keys on the table next to her. “Where were you going at four in the morning?”

She stirred her tea without looking at me.

Selene was never far from her cellphone. I grabbed her purse off the table and rummaged through it until I found it. I touched the phone icon, navigated to the call log, and found what I had feared. She’d placed a call twenty minutes ago. I couldn’t call the number to find out who it was, but I didn’t need to. The call display gave me the name: the Tolerance Bureau field office in Burlington.

I threw her phone down, ran into the bedroom, and pulled my clothes on, thinking furiously. It wouldn’t take them long to get here, but if I was fast enough I had a chance of getting Paige and the kids away from the cottage before the Inquisitors arrived. I hadn’t told Selene about Jorge, so the plan forming in my head was to simply get Paige to Jorge’s place as fast as I could. He would know what to do after that and could get them into hiding somewhere.