Details Part 2

"He was also a security guard. He usedta be in some police force and so he was a bodyguard for our leaders and there were security cameras all around our house." "So your church leaders?" "Yeah." "So what church do you belong to exactly?" "FLDS." "Wasn't that led by Warren Jeffs until last year?" "Uh-huh." His eyes foamed. I can't describe it any other way. And I still can't quite figure out what they were foaming with. Dry tears? Memories? Anger? Admiration? Loathing? Worship? I decided to change the subject (slightly). "What does the 'F' stand for?" "Fundamentalis." "Oooh." "I don't think there's that much difference between your religion and my religion." "Really." "Yeah. Well I've met a lotta Mormons and they're real nice people. And I know a little bit about what you all believe and stuff." "Well, hmm. I don't think that you can necessarily generalize - categorize or pre-judge people because of their religion. Just because they belong to a church doesn't have to mean anything." Pause. His head was bowed in thought. I noticed that his black cap had "Jack Daniel's Old No. 7 Whiskey" scrolled across the back. Silent laar. He finally looked back at me. "Exactly. No, I don't think religion has to mean anything either." "All I mean is, there are nice Jews and mean Jews, just as there are nice Mormons and mean Mormons. I just don't think that someone's membership in a church implies any behavioral characteristics." "Yeah. Exactly." "So what does your church believe then?" I really was interested, despite any misgivings I had against some amazingly profound, devilishly inspired message snaking from his mouth and binding me into his future harem forever. "Well, what do you believe?" "Well, first of all, we do believe in God --" "Yep!" "-- and we are Christian. We believe in the divinity and atonement of Jesus Christ." "Uh-huh!" "We also believe in the Holy Spirit and --" His vigorous head bobbing made me lose my train of thought for a bit, but I continued, "-- well, we believe that they are three disparate persons, we don't believe in the Trinity or anything." "Yeah. No Trinity." "Um, we believe that, as I sort of mentioned before, Jesus Christ atoned for our sins, that all mankind may be saved by --" "Obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel. Yep. Article of Faith 7 or whatever Articles of Faith. I've known 'em by heart since I was 8." Laar. "So does your church have the same canon as mine?" "Er" "I mean, do you believe in the Book of Mormon, Doctorine & Covenants, Pearl of Great Price..." "Oh! Yeah. We believe in the Word of Wisdom too and everything." "So then what do you think is different about our churches?" I wanted so very desparately to add there, "besides marriage practices," but I refrained. I wanted him as acquiescent and open as possible. "Well for one thing, like in the Word of Wisdom, we don't believe a person's damned to hell - scuse my language - just for drinking coffee. I mean, I don't like coffee or anything, but I've drank some." He pointed at his cap. Laar. Laar. Laarlaarlaarlaar. Laar. Then I answered, "Well, I don't think that my church believes that either. We have commandments and we are blessed as we obey, not necessarily damned as we sin. It's not like one strike and you're out. If you drink coffee -- haha, or whiskey -- you're just kept from the blessings that you would have received had you obeyed the commandment not to. That's more what we believe." He nodded and smiled. The stewardess announced that we were taxiing to our runway and that we should prepare for take-off. I decided to get up and go to the bathroom. When I came back, he was talking on the phone to his brother apparently, but I couldn't hear a thing. I won't say that my imagination didn't enjoy the conversation I fabricated between them about kidnapping me - if only because I found the whole situation killingly hilarious and because the kidnapping was only in my imagination. He got off. "I always like to keep two phones on me." "Really? Why?" "I dunno. I guess it's just because I've always had 2 phones." I was reminded immediately of the news report I saw of Warren Jeffs' arrest - his SUV was loaded with superfluous electronic equipment. I nodded and smiled. "So there is another thing I remember about Colorado City. When we drove through it, it always seemed like the houses weren't finished." "Yah." "Do you know why?" "Well, I guess, uh... I don't know really. Well, I guess it was because of --" "Taxes?" He got a bit petulant. "No! I don't know why everyone says it's always taxes. It's just a rumor that got round and it's not -- the truth is, everyone down there's just too damn lazy - scuse the language. They're always working away from home, like construction in St. George and stuff." "Oh." I pretended to nap for about 15 minutes, then curiosity overcame respect. "So have you seen any good movies recently?" "What?" "I mean, like when you were with your friends... have you seen any good movies lately?" He shook his head. "I don't think so." "Do you like to watch movies? Or do you watch TV or anything?" I guess I like to watch 'em, I dunno." "What movies have you seen? Have you seen like Braveheart or Star Wars or anything?" He shook his head and smiled a bit sheepishly. "I've seen Man from Snowy River." "Oh! Is that good? I've heard of it. Australian cowboy, right?" "Yeah! I think it's my favorite. There's also Return from Snowy River." "Ah! So when did you see those?" "I think I was round 10 or so." "Really?" "Yeah. They're the best movies I've ever seen..." Laar. We finished together: "The only movies I've/you've ever seen." Then I asked, "So what's your name? I'm sorry, I never asked you!" "John. John Johnson. What's yours?" "Angela." "Oh. So Angela Chapman." "Yeah. Good memory." "So why'd you ask about the movies? Do you wanna take me to a movie or something?" LAAR. LAAR. Laar Laar Laar. Laar. I shook my head "no," and said, "So you've never been to a movie theater?" "Nope." "Oh! You should go sometime. I think you'd enjoy it." He nodded. "So what kinds of things do you like to do then?" "I like rapelling." "Really! Awesome." "Yeah. When I was leven or twelve my brothers gave me a rope and I rapelled down our barn. Then I went to Zions a few times and rapelled there. I like rapelling offa bridges too, and just cliffs around and stuff." "That's awesome! I love Zions. So, wait, have you been to the IMAX in Zions then?" "Ooh. Yeah. I have." "So then you have been to a movie theater." "Yeah." "But it's not exactly the same thing I guess..." "I don't know. But I haven't had this much fun talking to someone in such a long time." He smiled. My heart was softening and I braced it. As much as I had talked about objectivity despite religion, I wasn't much of a practicer. I wanted to be nice to him, and I was nice to him. But it was a niceness born of pity, not of love. And a condescending sort of smile. My conversation was contrived, if you haven't noticed, and I don't think that I was very nice after all. "So what are your plans when you get back to Sandy?" "I am thinkin of goin into the military." "That is really great!" "Cuz right now I've left my family and I am living with some of my brothers in Sandy. So unless, you know, something makes me want to stay..." Trying not to laar, I responded, "Oh, yeah. Well the military is definitely a really good option." Then he dived into a discourse about military things I found myself drowining in; I was struggling too hard to stay afloat to actually remember that 10 minute monologue. Be content with [MILITARY TRAINING OF/ASVAB OF/VOCATION OF] here. And know that he said "math uh a mathematics" two or three times during this speech. "Wow." I said at the end of it. "Well, it sounds like you know what you're getting into. So would you mind moving around a lot?" "No, if whoever I was with didn't mind it. Do you mind moving around?" I didn't want to answer truthfully, but I had to. "Well, not really. I've moved quite a bit. I think I've lived in something like 12 different places..." "Oh! So what are you studying in college?" "The Ancient Near East. Like the Middle East." "I love history. I think if I were in school I would be doing history or something like that. But I do like math uh a mathematics... sorry, when I get nervous I remember things my father said and then say them. So sorry." "Sorry for what? Don't worry about it." He smiled and said, "You are so nice. So, uh, do you have a boyfriend?" I'm a horrible person. I almost lost it there. Thankfully, though, I did not laar. "Yes, I do." By this point, his hand was stroking my seat pocket, and he had sidled his torso quite past the arm-rest barrier. It slowly repulsed. "Oh. Yeah. I've thought about gettin myself a girlfriend a couple a times, to keep me young." "A girlfriend to keep you young?" "What?" "Did you just say you wanted a girlfriend in order to keep you young?" "No! I SAID, 'I've thought about gettin myself a girlfriend a couple a times but THEN I DIDN'T." (Note: capitalization used to emphasize his emphasis, not necessarily increase his volume.) He then showed me his GPS ("We're just coming out of the south of South Dakota.") and turned his back to me the rest of the flight. I slept, read, wrote, doodled, checked numerous times to see if he seemed willing to converse again (alas, never...). Then we landed and I got a phone call right away. I never got to say or even wave good-bye, but joined the Y shirt-clad travellers at the baggage carousel and silently laared to my replays of our little chat.