Tuesday, September 20, 2016

In The Beginning... I ("Thank You Ashley Madison" intro excerpt 1)

     Once upon a time, two sparks of consciousness twinkling in ethereal vastness chose to become human. Like other sparks, they were shiny threads in divine fabric wanting to experience, evolve, love, share, and gain information for the consciousness system they pulsed in. Most had become human before and there was excitement as the sparks invented obstacles and opportunities to transform, become divine as possible in human form.
     The two sparks agreed to pair up. They made a pact to push each other to greatness. They chose to be born to white, middle-class, Illinois families and the first to arrive was JB. JB chose parents who were intellectual alcoholic artists. His mother was a painter, his dad a writer. They’d already had three children and JB was the last. A year and five days later, Brenda showed up. She’d picked a super religious farmer’s daughter for a mother and a street-smart ex-hood for a father.
     JB’s parents threw fancy dinner parties, got drunk, and cheated on each other. JB’s mother, Therese, often screamed at her numbed-out husband, Bob, and JB would wring his hands and rub them together. His brother and sisters began calling him Uncle Joe. JB’s teacher told Therese that JB was disturbed and needed therapy, and Therese told the teacher she was an idiot and retold the story, which she found ridiculous and hilarious, at cocktail parties while JB drew gory war pictures in his room.
     Brenda’s mother, Cherise, was a full-time mom who read Seventh-day Adventist literature, went to church, and mostly kept to herself unless she was with her sisters. Brenda’s father, Carl, a high school dropout, owned the printing company he began working for as a delivery boy. Carl kept himself busy on the weekends with a twelve-flat apartment building he and Cherise owned. It allowed him to stay away from home and drink with friends. He and Cherise had a deal: he could pretty much do whatever he wanted if he didn’t interfere in their daughters’ religious upbringing.
     Brenda and her younger sister, Trish, went to Seventh-day Adventist parochial school. They couldn’t go to movies, read novels, wear jewelry, dance, and from Friday night sundown to Saturday night sundown, the Sabbath, they couldn’t do anything that wasn’t Bible-related.
     At JB’s, the living room couch hid liquor bottles that were stuffed under it. JB avoided confrontation at all costs and memorized history, trivia, and left-leaning political opinions to impress his parents. It worked.
     As JB learned to present himself well, Brenda developed an angry rebellious streak and began rattling her religious cage.