A Conversation With an Old Friend

This is just a short story I wrote yesterday. It may be a little rough. I didn't take the time to revise it, and it changes from present to past tense at the beginning, so please bear with me. For your viewing pleasure:



After a long day of work a man comes home to his family. His house is a mess from his children's exploits, and his wife is sitting in the recliner, flipping through channels on TV.

"Haven't you done anything today?" the man asks. "The house is a wreck, dirty clothes are strewn about the house, and I bet the dishes aren't done. Do I have to do everything?"

"If you don't like it," his wife says, "you can certainly pick up for yourself. I have done several loads of laundry, I have cooked for both the children and for you, and every time I pick up after the children, they destroy the house again. If you think you can better, you are certainly welcome to try."

Of course the man doesn't really want to do anything about it. He just wants to blame his frustration on someone else. He has worked all day and has heard enough excuses that ones from his wife, unlike those he hears at work, are completely justified.

"I have an early day tomorrow," the man says. "I'm going to bed early. Good night."

"Don't you want to play with your children? Or at least pray with us?"

"Not tonight," he says. He heads in to his bedroom, changes for bed, and sinks into his sheets. "I just don't know why I bother," he says as his eyes close.

In the night he is woken by a flash of light. But he can't really be awake for he is no longer in his bedroom. He doesn't really know where he is. Everything is bright white, but it doesn't hurt his eyes. The headache he had when he went to bed is gone and he notices that he doesn't really feel anything. He can't tell if he's seated or standing, only that he doesn't feel pressure on his back, his bottom, or his feet.

"Well, this is strange," he says.

"And maybe a little familiar," a voice responds.

"Who's there?"

He looks about him and tries to focus. A face appears before him, a few feet off. A moment later he can see the whole body of a man, average height, with white hair and beard.

"Hello," the man said, a little smile showing on his face.

"You look familiar. Do I know you?"

"You used to. We used to talk a lot when you were younger."

"Are you friends with my parents?"

"Let's just say we used to go to church together," the older man said.

"Church? And we talked a lot?"

The man just smiled wider, and as he did, the younger man felt like a sheet was being fulled from his face. When the sensation ended it almost seemed like he could see things clearer, though nothing felt unclear before. Then realization hit him.

"It's you, isn't it? You're..."

"Yes, I AM."

"But I've never seen you before."

"Not lately, but before you were born, we knew each other."

"So, that's when we talked?"

"Yes, we talked then, but I was talking about more recently. In this life. When you were a child."

"I don't remember. You think I would remember something like that."

"Well, maybe to you it wasn't like talking. You would probably call it prayer."

"No, you need to have a response for it to be a proper conversation," the younger man said. "You never answered so I stopped."

"I always answered. Did I not speak peace to your soul? Did I not make your life better? Did I not shield you from danger?"

"I don't know. I never noticed the difference. My life didn't seem to change much after I gave up on you."

"You're right," the older man said. "Your life didn't change much. Don't you see? You are a smart person. You worked hard and became successful without me."

"Why do I need you, then?"

"Because with me, you could have been happy too."

"Am I not happy?"

"Are you?"

"No, but I have a lot of friends that still believe in you, and they don't seem to be any better off than you. In fact, many are worse off. They have to work harder to have less in their lives."

"But don't you notice something about them? Don't you see what is different between you and them. Take a moment and think."

Not having much better to do, the younger man did think about it, to see if there was a difference. He worked with a younger woman that had five children. Both her and her husband worked to pay the bills, and they barely kept up. In fact, he was pretty sure she waitressed on the weekend to make ends meet. They couldn't be happy with that. But there was something about her. She always had a pleasant disposition and never let anyone's unkind words bother her. Why was she like that? And she wasn't alone. There were others that had to work much harder for their livelihood than he did. But they seemed, what was it? Happier? They didn't worry too much about bills, though he knew they should. What was the difference. He looked at the older man, confusion on his face.

"Have you not figured it out yet?" the older man said.

"There's no reason these people should be happy."

"But they are. It is because of their belief. It is because they allow me to enter their lives."

"But that girl at work, she doesn't even get to go to church half the time."

"But she still believes. It's faith. You just need to believe in me, and then try the best you can, and I make up the rest."

"But how can it be about faith? I mean, you're here talking to me. I know you're real."

The older man shook his head, still smiling. "You are dreaming. When you wake up, you will have to decide if this was real, or just your guilt playing tricks on you. Besides, miracles and visions don't produce faith. Look at Jonah. He wouldn't do what I asked until he was swallowed by a whale. And Laman and Lemuel saw angels and they still didn't change their ways. The only thing the angel did for them was to keep them from killing their brother."

"So you're saying I can wake up and be the same as I was before. I can go right back to disbelieving."

"You can choose to disbelieve, but you can't be the same as you were before. This is a crossroads. You can turn right or left, but you can't continue the way you were. You have to decide whether you want to make the changes in your life to live a better life, or your life will go downhill. You will lose the things you have worked for."

"That's not very nice," the younger man said. "Why would you do that to me?"

"It's not me. I gave freedom of choice to everyone. Your wife is an the edge of choosing a different life. And your employers have noticed that while you do a good job, you have a bad attitude and that it may be in their best interests to replace you."

"That's not fair. You can't do this to me."

"I have not done it. I am only warning you, to give you the chance to choose which way you want to travel."

"It doesn't seem like much of a choice."

"That might be the case, but it is a choice."

"What happens now? I choose to believe and everything goes well?"

"No. If you choose to believe, you will still have to work hard. The difference is I will be there to help you. If you believe, you will allow me to make up the difference when you fall short."

"Okay, I think I need to talk to my wife."

"I think that would be a good idea," the older man said, smiling. "Remember, you're not a bad person. You've just forgotten who you are. Believe in me, and I will help you remember."

The room blurred white and both man and room disappeared into blackness. When the younger man woke in the morning, he wasn't sure it was real or not. It was just as the dream man had said. He could certainly write it off as a vivid dream. But somehow he felt that it was more than that. Sure, he could discount it as just a feeling, but what if it was more? His wife stirred and opened her eyes.

"Are you having trouble sleeping?" she asked.

"Just had a dream," he said.

"I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," he said. "But I would like to talk about something else. I haven't been very kind to you lately, and I'd like to see what I need to do to change that."

"I'd like that."