CHAPTER 4

          Ribbons of billowy clouds rippled across the western horizon, dyed crimson and amber by the long rays of the setting sun.  Sitting on a large boulder, Nikki decided to forgo searching for her mother for the moment.  It wasn’t likely Helen would have hiked up this high anyway.  Truth be told, Nikki had no idea what to say when she did see her mother.  “I’m sorry the world isn’t the fairy tale you’d like it to be.”?  Or maybe “I’m sorry my honesty hurt your feelings.  Go ahead and believe there is a magical heaven where a caring God welcomes loved ones with open arms.”  It even sounded attractive to Nikki and she knew better.

          At least the view was heavenly.  Shafts of light speared through brilliant streaks, creating a halo of gold over the endless procession of rocky peaks.  The glory of heaven bestowing itself on an undeserving earth.  Nikki chuckled at her own whimsy.  Fortunately, she knew all the processes which led to the current visible light spectrums.  It was pleasing to the eye, though.  She’d admit that much.

          The brilliant colors were expanding into the entire evening sky before Nikki noticed she wasn’t alone.  She turned quickly, alarmed at first until she realized it was the same man Jack had coffee with earlier. 

          “I’m sorry,” he offered.  “I didn’t mean to startle you.  I couldn’t help pausing to enjoy the view.”

          Nikki stood.  “I need to get going anyway.”  She motioned to the large rock she’d just vacated.  “Front row seat to the show, if you’re interested.”

          “I don’t want to intrude, Nikki.  You seemed to be enjoying the break.”

          Nikki racked her brain for a moment, trying to remember his name.  It started with a “J” she thought, like Jack’s.  She’d been too distracted by seeing Jack again to pay attention.

          “Jess,” he reminded her, extending his hand in greeting.

          She took it.  She did remember the warmth and firm gentleness of his handshake.  She felt odd walking away now.  “I was just trying to figure out how to avoid another argument with my mother,” Nikki said as she sat back down.  Nikki noticed that Jess leaned against a larger boulder a comfortable distance away.  “I guess we never outgrow trying to please our parents,” she added, “even when we know it’s impossible.”

          Jess nodded.  “Sometimes it only seems impossible.”

          Leaning back on her elbows, Nikki allowed frustration to show in her expression as she absently scanned the tie-dyed dome above her.  “I appreciate her wanting to attend my lectures, but it just seems to upset her so much.”

          “She wants to understand you.”

          “She wants to make me feel guilty.” 

          Jess didn’t respond.

          “Maybe that’s not what she wants, but that’s how it makes me feel,” Nikki tried to explain.  “Religion has been so ingrained in her life that she can’t stop believing in it, but I know she sees truth in what I say.  It’s hard to admit fairy tales aren’t real.  Life is what it is.  Pretending it’s something else is just a waste of time.”

          Nikki wasn’t even sure how Jess felt about it, but he seemed to be truly interested.

          “When I think back to all the time I expended on religion as I was growing up,” she continued, “…Sunday mornings rushing off to church, singing in the children’s choir, getting all dressed up for First Communion just to eat a wafer of bread and drink some wine.”  Nikki grinned.  “Okay, getting to drink wine in second grade was kind of cool, but to insist one prayer said over it could turn it into the real blood of someone who lived 2000 years ago?  I mean, it’s easier to believe in a toy shop at the North Pole.”

          Jess appeared thoughtful.  “You seem to enjoy the memories.”

          Nikki guessed there had been a bit of wistfulness in her voice as she remembered the old days.  “Dr. Steven Weinberg once compared religion to a crazy old aunt,” Nikki said in response.  “‘She tells lies,’ he stated, ‘and she stirs up all sorts of mischief and she’s getting on, and she may not have that much life left in her, but she was beautiful once.  When she’s gone, we may miss her.’”

          “Do you?”

          That simple question took Nikki by surprise.  “I guess I miss parts of it.  I miss the camaraderie of belonging, of not having to defend my position while everyone whispers and points to me at family gatherings.  ‘That’s Helen’s daughter, the atheist.’  I’m not the scientist, or the microbiologist.  I’m the one who turned my back on God.”

          “Anything else?”

          Nikki actually laughed.  “That isn’t enough?”

          Jess shrugged, smiling.  “You were on a roll.”

          “Okay, yes, I miss having some all-powerful super-hero guardian looking out for me, someone I thought I could turn to when all else failed, someone I could pray to, talk to, someone who promised to love me no matter what.”

          “You felt betrayed when the evidence told you there was no God.”

          Here was a kindred spirit, Nikki thought.  He said it as if he’d been there, as if he truly understood.  “Yes.”  She felt a sense of liberation and, oddly, a familiar warmth she couldn’t explain.  Then she remembered why she felt so especially betrayed now.  “I guess, emotionally, it’s the hope factor that makes God so hard to give up.  It’s so rooted in our background to want someone all-powerful to pray to during difficult times.  We feel like it gives us an edge, a chance to prevail even against all reason.  And when all is lost, we hope for a miracle.”

          “But…”

          “But.”  Nikki left the word hanging there as a statement unto itself.  “Then we find out false hope is worse than reality.  It makes us forget that the only real miracles are in scientific and medical discoveries.  It allows us to play make-believe that everything will be okay, that death is only a right of passage to something better.  That’s the little white lie that keeps us sane.  But truth is truth.  There is no toy shop at the top of the world.  And there is no God.”

          Jess was quiet for so long that Nikki felt self-conscious for letting her aggravation taint the serenity of the evening.  The sun had nearly set now, its brilliance dimming to deep shades of blue and indigo.  She really should go.

          “I always loved twilight as a kid,” she commented instead. 

          “As a child I saw it as a time of promise,” Jess responded.

          “Promise?”

          “Twilight was a time for rest, family dinners, and reading together,” he explained.

          “It sounds wonderful.”  Nikki imagined the homey feel of it.  “What would you read?”

          “My stepfather would read from the Torah.  Great portions of it he could recite from memory.”

          “You were raised Jewish?”

          “Yes.”

          Nikki was intrigued.  “Did you ever argue with your parents?”

          Jess grinned, remembering one or two misunderstandings.  “I tried not to.”

          “Must be nice,” Nikki said grudgingly.  “My dad and I got along great.  But he died before I started doing public lectures.  It’s been harder on my mom.  I guess she’s had a lot to deal with lately.”

          “I like your mother.  She’s very sincere.”

          “That she is,” agreed Nikki.  “She really does try not to interfere with what I do.  I have to give her credit for that.”  Nikki relaxed, pulling her knees up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.  “What about your parents?”

          “My stepfather died before I began speaking publicly as well.  My mother supported me even when I met with ridicule.  As with your mother, it was difficult for her.”

          “What about your father?”

          “My father is always with me.”

          Nikki wasn’t sure what he meant by that.  She wondered if his father was ill or just aged.  “And you still don’t argue with him?  How do you manage that?”

          “I always do what he asks.” 

          She would’ve thought Jess was joking if not for his total look of sincerity.  “Wow.  That’s a novel thought.  I wish I could teach Hannah that concept.”

          “Hannah is a beautiful child.”

          Nikki’s face beamed.  “She is.  She’s so bright, so full of life.”  Nikki forced the sadness away.  “Hannah was reading before she even started kindergarten.  She loves to learn.”

          “She’s a special child.  She’ll accomplish great things.”     

          The bitterness returned in full portion.  Nikki’s arms tensed, her knuckles turning white against her black suit pants.  “If only she had the opportunity.”

           “Special talents exist in every child.”  Jess looked out toward the diminishing brightness settling low over the horizon’s muted curves and peaks.  “Some are never discovered.  Some are never given the chance.”

          “And that, the biggest cut of all.”  Nikki didn’t even try to keep the resentment out of her voice.

          “As a biologist, why do you suppose there are so many childhood diseases?”   

          She thought about that.  “If it can go wrong, to some extent it will go wrong.  The more we mess with the environment we live in, the more it will happen.”

          “How does your opinion of that theory change if you include God in the mix?”

          “I think that’s why highly educated biologists are the most likely to embrace atheism,” Nikki replied.  “We see the flukes in the design.  Natural evolution takes what works and lets it survive and adapt.  There are no promises about perfection.  Tell me that a compassionate, caring Creator who could design the universe and life itself couldn’t do better on the perfection scale.”

          “Interesting theory,” Jess allowed.  “How perfect would it be?”

          Nikki shrugged.  “I’d settle for no cancer, leukemia, childhood diseases, or birth defects.”

          “What about illness or death due to accidents, injuries, or poverty?”

          “I suppose we would have to accept responsibility for some of those on our own.”

          “How would you explain the difference to a young mother whose child is struck by a car after getting off the school bus?  Or to a parent who watches a child wither from malnutrition?  What about random acts of violence, or terrorism, war, or genocide?”

          Resting her forehead against her hands, Nikki admitted defeat, “Okay, so life still wouldn’t be perfect, not without a whole heap of miracles.”

          “If miracles were constant and overt, how many would appreciate them?” Jess questioned her. 

          “Not many,” she acknowledged.  “Most would simply expect ready answers to their problems, whatever they were, or be angry if everything wasn’t ideal.”

          “If the physical world didn’t have predictable order, free from blatant divine tampering, could there be order?  Would there be any need for learning and discovery?  Would there be any need for human responsibility or faith?”  Jess paused to accept Nikki’s intent gaze.  “In any reasonable God hypothesis, would a compassionate, loving deity deliberately create such a world?”

          “No deity would create all this,” Nikki threw her arms out in an encompassing gesture, “then sit around for billions of years for evolution to come up with humans to argue with, either!”

          Jess let out a full chuckle.  “One would think,” he admitted with a gentle smile directed at Nikki.

          She could swear that smile held a fathomless measure of tenderness and love, but she turned away too soon to analyze it.  It scared her.  Just like this conversation.  She just couldn’t seem to pull away from it, though.  Stars were becoming visible now in the darkening dome above them.  This far from Denver there were so many the heavens seemed to go on forever.  “I’ve never really had much faith in the ‘billions of universes simply to get one that’s just right to create life’ theory,” she confessed, “though tonight it looks possible.”

          They both watched in silence for a short time as the depths of the galaxy took shape before them.

          “Jack would list off names of constellations and stars, even a newly discovered nebula or two, when we lay out under the night sky back before…” she cut herself off.  “Way back when”, she finished.  “Even if it was too bright near the city to see them, he could point to where they were and describe them to me, almost like he knew them intimately.”

          Jess rose and moved closer to Nikki.  Tipping his head back near hers, he pointed up.  “There is Perseus, with Aries and Andromeda slightly to the west.”  Nikki moved closer to see exactly where Jess was pointing.  “The brightest star there, near the center of the Andromeda constellation, is Alpha Andromedae.  It is also known as Alpheratz or Sirrah.  It’s often referred to as one star, but is actually two close-orbiting stars that circle each other about every three months.”  Jess’ hand slipped to the left, closer to Nikki.  “Pisces and Cetus are here.  Delphinus, Pegasus, and Aquarius are a little farther southwest, but aren’t quite visible yet.”

          While Jess continued to name the heavens for Nikki, deeper even than Jack had ever attempted and in several different languages, she allowed her gaze to fall to his face.  She thought he must have noticed, but didn’t seem bothered by her distraction.  His eyes, in the muted starlight, were a soft brown lit with a host of brilliant sparks reflected from the sky above.  She hadn’t really noticed before how perfect his features were, except for a few deep scars along his hairline.  By thirty, many men had a bit of grey here and there, but Jess’ hair was a deep chocolate brown with just a touch of a curl where the length reached his collar.

          “…And beyond that are several galaxy clusters that have yet to be discovered, so we’ll just call one Nikita Maria and another Hannah Estelle.”

          “What?” Nikki glanced back up to notice Jess was returning her gaze, smiling mischievously.

          “Just checking to see if you were still paying attention,” he replied.  “What happened to my girl with the insatiable curiosity?”

          “I guess I’m more curious about you than the Hydra cluster.”

          “What would you like to know?”

          He was obviously an astronomer or astrophysicist.  “How long have you known Jack?” she opted to start with.

          “I’ve known Jack all his life.”

          That was odd.  She thought she knew all of Jack’s friends and close colleagues, well, at least before the divorce.  “How old are you?” 

          “How old are you?” he countered.

          “Okay, point taken.”  Nikki thought about the points he’d made earlier in their conversation.  “Exactly what side are you on this weekend?”

          “I try not to take sides,” Jess answered simply.  “I try to appreciate everyone’s views.”

          “So, you just straddle the fence and see who wins?”  Nikki hated it when scientists insisted on remaining neutral so they wouldn’t offend anyone. 

          Jess looked at Nikki with understanding, but she felt somehow chastened.  “Knowing the truth doesn’t keep me from valuing others’ opinions.”

          “I know the truth,” stated Nikki, “but I can’t value or condone ignorance.”

          “Do you?”

          “Do I what?”       

          “Know the truth?”

          “Yes.”  There was no room in Nikki’s reply for dispute. 

          Jess nodded.  “Any more?”  At her inquiring look, he elaborated.  “Do you have any more questions?”

          One in particular popped into her head. She thought back to his teasing remark about the “undiscovered” galaxies.  “How did you know our middle names?”

          A playful grin graced his perfect features.  “Good guess.  Is that it?”

          Nikki was irritated and fascinated at the same time.  “How did you get the scars?  Here,” she brushed a lock of hair aside by his forehead, “and on your wrist.”  She lifted the hand he’d pointed out the stars with, running her fingers over the huge jagged scar there.  Her fingers tingled where they touched him.  She pulled away quickly, but as soon as she lost contact she felt an eerie emptiness.  Nikki looked to him for an explanation, but she wasn’t sure what she wanted him to explain.

          “Sometimes when you take a stand, others take offense,” was the only response he offered.

          Someone had deliberately hurt him?  Her heart pounded at the thought, though she wasn’t sure why.  “My God!”

          Jess looked at her pointedly, his eyebrows raised.  “Changing your beliefs on me now?”

          “It’s an expression!” she declared, still shocked at the apparent severity of the wounds.  The word torture came to mind.  She knew that kind of thing still occurred, but she’d never really met someone who’d been injured for their beliefs.  “What happened?”

          “I spoke the truth.”

          “And…”

          “Some prominent religious figures decided I posed a threat to the stability of the area.”

          Nikki sat up, turning to face him.  “Why didn’t you just leave the area?”

          “My father needed me to stay.”

          “And you always do what your father asks.”

          “Yes.”

          “Did he realize how dangerous the situation was?” 

          “He knew what they intended to do, yes.”

          Nikki wondered how any father could ask his child to suffer like that.    “Was he some powerful military general or something?”

           “Powerful, yes,” Jess concurred, “but not politically or militarily.  Our message is peace and tolerance.”

          Nikki shook her head in disbelief.  “So your father let you suffer and be tortured to prove a point?”

          “It’s been a long time and we’re still trying to prove it.  But I suffered willingly.”

          It was hard for Nikki to understand his willingness.  Religious fervor she understood, however, and it angered her.  “That’s one of the reasons I feel it’s so necessary to promote atheism.  People so often use religion to excuse violence.”

          “In the wrong hands, any premise can be twisted to promote an individual cause,” Jess countered.  “Even atheism.  Even scientific discoveries.”

          Nikki thought about communism and nuclear weapons.  “Maybe so, but more often than not religion is at the core.”

          “Just because people use God to condone violence doesn’t mean God condones it.”

          She felt a little disappointment, but less than she would’ve expected.  “So you are a believer.”

          Jess stood and offered Nikki his hand to help her down.  “The search party is about ready to set out in force since you didn’t show up for dinner,” he mentioned as he headed her back toward the hotel.  Nikki glanced at her cell.  “No service up here,” Jess noted.  

            Jess kept Nikki’s hand in his as they worked their way down the darkened path.  She wasn’t sure how she felt about him.  She didn’t feel the same kind of attraction that she did with Jack, but she didn’t want their time together to end.  “Thank you for an enlightening evening,” she said when he stopped outside the front door of the hotel.  She hesitated to say goodbye.

          “I’ll be here tomorrow,” he mentioned.  “I could show you and Hannah where some good areas are to see elk and other wildlife if you’d like.”

          Nikki smiled, relieved for some reason unfathomable to her at the moment.  “Sounds good.  Would around noon work?”

          Jess nodded.  “Noon it is.  I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

          “Okay, see you then.”  Nikki felt happy in a way she hadn’t for a long time, since well before Hannah’s illness.  An emptiness that even her love for Jack hadn’t filled was gone.  She was sure it wouldn’t last, but for a short wonderful time, the void was gone.