October skies

Shepherd sighed. ‘I was hoping to get away from work,’ he replied with a weary smile.

‘Jules, let the poor man eat in peace,’ Rose chided him gently.

Shepherd raised a hand. ‘No, I don’t really mind.’ He looked at Julian. ‘As long as you’re not interviewing me?’

He smiled and shook his head. ‘No Dictaphone. Off the record. I’m just curious.’

Shepherd shuffled to get comfortable. ‘It’s definitely a factor. There’re about thirteen million Mormons out there. And to be honest, not all of them would put a vote my way. But I hope the people I’m getting through to are not necessarily Mormons, not necessarily Baptists, but a large, quiet groundswell of middle-ground voters who are tired of the other two parties, the sleaze, the corruption, all that self-serving manoeuvring they do on every issue.’

‘But your core voters, the ones you’re aiming at are… are what? Protestant Christians?’

‘Not at all. I hope I’m talking to people of every faith. I hope I’m getting through to Catholics, Muslims, Hindus… people of all faiths, Julian. People who see beyond the immediate I am, therefore I will have.’

Rose frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘This selfish, me-first society we’ve gone and built. There’s no social bond left in this country of ours, no sense of community, of a greater good. We all go our own separate ways, grabbing what we can for ourselves… and screw everyone else.’

‘Yup,’ Grace muttered. ‘That’s about it.’

Shepherd nodded. ‘We’ve spawned a generation of selfish, self-obsessed product consumers. A younger generation who know nothing more than their local mall, the internet, Mc-Donald’s and their iPods. Kids who don’t care a damn for their community, for their family even. Moms and dads both working double shifts to pay for the shiny gadgets the TV tells their kids they need to have.’

Shepherd shook his head. ‘The great big capitalist experiment, ’ he sighed, ‘went and broke our society big time. There’s no Thanks in Thanksgiving, no God left in Christmas. Those days are nothing more than carefully branded herding to drive the cattle into the mall twice a year. And hell, we do it all over again for Easter.’

‘The world has become too commercial,’ agreed Rose.

‘With no faith left in our lives, no meaning to our lives,’ Shepherd replied, ‘all that is left is’ — he shrugged — ‘buying things.’

Julian finished his stew and placed the bowl on the ground. ‘You know, what you’re saying sounds refreshingly left wing, for America at least. Don’t you worry you might sound too… I dunno… socialist for voters to accept?’

Shepherd shrugged. ‘People know what’s right. In their hearts they do. Our broken country needs some kind of glue to put it back together. To reconnect kids with their parents and rebuild all those fragmented, dysfunctional families; to rebuild those isolated families into communities and those communities into a country that once more understands the notion of a common good.’

‘And that glue is faith?’

Shepherd nodded. ‘It’s all we have left. Let me ask you a question, Mr Cooke. Who would you prefer as your neighbour: Homer Simpson or Ned Flanders?’

Julian laughed and pushed his glasses up. ‘Seriously?’ Shepherd nodded.

‘Well, it’s got to be Homer, annoying though he is.’

‘Because?’

‘It’s the God thing, I’m afraid. Sorry. I struggle with the ridiculous beliefs most religions insist on slavishly subscribing to. You know, the world being created in seven days and being only six thousand years old, that kind of thing.’

‘If we’re talking about the other faiths too,’ Rose cut in, ‘how about the idea of women being the property of men? Or heaven being a place where a man can get satisfaction from seventy-two virgins? Or to take another faith, that any sin, no matter how awful, can be instantly written off by muttering a Hail Mary.’

To their surprise, Shepherd nodded. ‘You’re right, both of you.’

Julian looked up from the fire. ‘What?’

‘It’s all a load of crap.’

The crackle of burning firewood filled a long silence.

‘The world’s faiths are contaminated with age-old superstitions, most irrelevant and many very dangerous. After all, every one of them was formulated and prescribed at least a thousand years ago. How, in God’s name could any of them be relevant to our lives now? What we need-’ Shepherd stopped short and looked around at them. ‘I’m sorry. You got me whipped up into preacher mode.’

Julian sat back. ‘Uhh, I’m pretty sure you’ve never preached that kind of message on your TV station.’

Shepherd shifted uncomfortably. ‘No, you’re right, I haven’t. No one’s ready to hear that kind of thing. It would sink my campaign in a heartbeat if they knew how I felt.’

Julian shook his head. ‘What you say out here is off the record. I’m not interested in who becomes President eighteen months from now. It’s Preston’s story that I’m interested in.’

The kettle on the fire began whistling and bubbling. Grace leaned forward and carefully unhooked it from a small ‘A’ frame suspended over the fire.