The previous post in this series, Part Three, where the prodigal band is within white, timeless void, ends with former roadie, Bobby, who also composed a song for them relating to their “missions of God” about ‘the Way,’ Chrit, telling them that they had a choice as to accept the missions through accepting Christ—it was up to them, period. In this Part Four, they begin their journey into making that choice. The snippet, neither long nor short, will be broken up a couple of times in order to explain necessary ‘background’ material to help the reader understand what is happening within the snippet, from the middle of Chapter Eleven of The Prodigal Band, © 2018 Deborah Lagarde. Below is the snippet, in portions.
They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, letting their new burden crush them. It took a while for each of them to even consider looking at the rest to see who would make the first move toward a decision. They could have stood there forever.
Finally, Jack uttered, “So what do we want to do?”
All Bry could do was look up at where he imagined God was, and yell, “I think we’d like to go back to the plane now!”
Now it was Keith’s turn to condescend. He got right into the synthist’s face. “You idiot! God brought us here, and He’ll let us go back when He’s good and ready. Jack is right, we’re pipsqueaks in the eyes of God, and He’s gonna keep us here ‘til we decide in His favor.”
McClellan turned away and snorted loudly, then said under his breath, “Oh, bloody hell. I give up.” Flailed his arms until they fell in dejection.
When Erik saw this, he knew the jig was up, and immediately sat squat on the floor of emptiness, rocking his body back and forth. Morwenna was right. He held his head in his arms.
This ‘Morwenna was right’ thought relates to a previous chapter where he and Morwenna, his wife Ger’s new personal assistant—now in human form having been previously a spirit being called ‘the witch of the Hovels,’ and agent of God’s angels, the Tooters—argue over whether he needed to accept Christ to carry out his mission, to sing about Christ. After he mocked the notion of attending church, saying churchgoers were hypocrites, she scolded him, replying:
“Oh, they’re all full of hypocrites, you know. And when I find a church full of hypocrites that also puts the Word of God at the head of its priorities list, then I’ll invite Ger, and you, too, because in a church full of hypocrites there’s always room for one more.”
One more hypocrite, that is—him! So, Erik then looked up and asked for God’s guidance, knowing she was right.
Tom, who had the least education of all of them yet wound up being the band’s “intellectual” and “philosopher” having read much from Marx to Malthus, could only rationalize what he was going through. Well, I guess that means that if we want to get out of here and get on with our lives, we have to do God’s bidding. Whoever God is! Whatever God is. He turned to Keith. “So God only lets us go if we do what He wants? That’s your opinion! Bobby said we had a choice. It isn’t as if God lets us go if we choose to do that mission. It’s God lets us go as soon as we decide.”
“So then,” Jack bellowed, “what the hell do we decide?”
“And, of course,” Tom added, “we decide as a group. In other words, all of us individually have to make the same decision, because we can only do the mission as a group so that implies also that if we don’t do the mission, we don’t do the mission as a group.”
“And,” Mick continued, “we have to decide individually for the group right now. We can’t stay here forever. And we have to decide now with the understanding of the consequences. The decision we already made back when we took the mission in Victoria Park, even before the concert last July. What we now have to decide is this: can we handle the consequences?”
Now Erik had his head buried toward his chest, his hands clasped over it. I can’t believe I argued with Morwenna over this! I can’t believe I’ve been such an arrogant, self-centered, prideful jackass! Like being an unrepentant sinner is a badge of honor! It has been! I’m a rock idol because I’m such a bad boy and I’ve reveled in it! Let’s see now, how many times have I almost died because of my supercool behavior? Right! Real cool, man, nearly dying because o’ booze. I’m a real piece of work! Not because I sing so well. Not because I support my mother and she doesn’t have to work anymore. Not because my kids think I’m a real right daddy now and that I have the greatest woman in the world. Not because I give millions and millions to charity and helped Tom set up his foundation to free indentured servants and slaves in Africa. Not because behind all the facade I’m just another guy who if I had my druthers would druther go fishing. No! I’m a big shot because— I’m so bloody bad? Is that what’s keeping me from making the decision I have to make? That I vowed to make? Am I gonna break a vow just because I can’t get over feeling sorry for myself?
He looked up away from his body, mentally crying out loud, Please God, wherever you are, make me get over this and make me stop feeling all this self-pity! I’m sick of it!
It was then that Erik began following the conversation of the others.
“Yeh, consequences,” Mick continued. “Like I told you a little bit ago, Tom, I ain’t gay anymore. Now that was hard! I’m not a Druid anymore either. Was getting disillusioned with it anyway, because now everyone in Britain’s a bloody Druid. I thought believing in that would set me apart and make me part of a really wise group of people above the stupid masses like the masses I left behind in stupid Walltown.”
Tom screwed his eyes on the lanky one. “So, you want to be a Christian because now most of Britain has repudiated Christ, and now Christianity is almost esoteric?”
Mick threw his head back, sighing. “No, Shorty.” Tom, Tom, Tom! He went over and put his bony hand on the drummer’s shoulder. “I’m saying that each one of us has something very, very much a part of each one of us that we can only give up because what we will attain will be so much better. For me it was being gay and being Druid. It set me apart in the band, made me who I was and what I was in the band and made me stand out in the band. Part of my identity. It made me me.”
Mick, a guitarist and producer, was spiritually the most occultic within the band. But all of them had ‘personas’ that they would have to leave behind if they were to accept the missions. Jack, guitarist and band leader, hated the Bible because his dad, a member of a cult that claimed to be Chistian, beat him with a hard-cover Bible whenever he wanted to. And more…read on.
Tom faced him with understanding as Mick went on. “I don’t know who told me this but Jesus Christ once said to His followers that they had to take up their own burdens to follow Him. I guess mine are being gay and Druid. That’s one reason I haven’t gone home yet. All I have back at Holyhope are all my Druid things, altars, and occult books. That’s quite a bit I’m gonna have to clean up when I finally get there.”
Yeh, Tom thought, and I’m probably gonna have to leave Morocco for good. Oh, well. “Yeh, it would be hard for me to go home as well, but I can’t imagine what else I’d have to give up.”
Jack said to no one in particular, “Hating my dad, and hating the Bible.”
Keith uttered softly, “And loving the fact that I started out quitting the band and now I’m on top of the world.”
Ignoring Jack and Keith, Bry muttered to Tom, “You know what you have to give up, Tom, your constantly spouting philosophical clap-trap like you’re some kind of Socrates.”
Cornsby shot back, “And what you have to give up, Mr. Wannabe Country-Western Redneck?”
“Who you calling a redneck?” Bry approached Tom, fighting mad.
Erik had enough, and sprang up. “Oh, do shut up! All o’ you!”
Surprised at the outburst, the others shuddered into compliance.
“Mick is right,” Jack said, “we will have to give up all the baggage that made us repudiate Christianity in the first place, which goes back way before we formed any band.”
The next post in this series, where the decision is made, will appear in early August.
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