Read Online A Rhinestone Button by Gail Anderson-Dargatz - Free Book Online
Authors: Gail Anderson-Dargatz
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everyone
think
they’re aliens.”
“Why the hell would a demon want to go and do that?” said Carlson.
Jacob limped forward, into the crop circle. “It feeds into the whole evolution conspiracy, doesn’t it? Demons want us to believe in evolution because it undermines the Bible, undermines man’s place at the pinnacle of creation. If everyone comes to believe there are other worlds, other intelligent creatures, that makes us just another creature. Jesus dying on the cross to save us doesn’t make a whole lot of sense then, does it?”
Carlson ran a hand over his scalp to flatten his hair. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Pastor Sunstrum. That whole God’s-son-dying-to-save-us thing never made much sense to me. Evolution makes a hell of a lot more sense.”
“Sure evolution makes sense,” said Jacob. “God came up with the idea. He planted the evidence of evolution. He made the world have the appearance of great age, and he put the fossils in place so it would look like there was evolution.”
There was no denying there were fossils. With each pass of the fields Job churned up more fossilized wood. The farm was strewn with it. He took it home and used it as book ends.
“God is outside time,” said Jacob. “He knew there were going to be evolutionists, so he put the fossils under the earth at the time of creation to see who would be faithful to his word. Do we listen to the humanists? Do we trust what we see with our own foolish eyes, what we hear with our own puny ears? Or do we have faith and believe what God told us happened, in the Bible. That’s the test.”
Carlson scratched his neck. “But if God knew there would be evolutionists, then he’d also know who would be faithful and who wouldn’t, wouldn’t he? So why go to all the trouble of planting the fossils in the first place? It seems kind of, I don’t know, deceitful.” When Jacob opened his mouth to reply, Carlson held his hand up. “No offense, but I just want to take a look at this crop circle; I didn’t come for a sermon.”
Jacob’s face the colour of pickled beets. But he smiled. “None taken. We’ve all got a right to our beliefs, no matter how misguided. I’m heading back to the house.” He took a few steps, turned. “Come on, Ben.”
“I want to watch the plane take off.”
“Now!”
“All right.” But Ben didn’t move.
“I said now!”
“I could use Ben’s help moving the bull to the other herd,” said Job. Though he’d already done it.
Jacob let his shoulders drop. “All right. But don’t take long. Lilith will have coffee ready. You know how she gets when we’re late.”
Ben nodded his thanks to his uncle as Jacob limped away.
The faint, sweet smell of insecticide clung to Carlson. Over this the smell of petroleum, the lines of his hands sketched in oil. “I seen lots of things in fields that look like crop circles, you know,” he said. “Fairy rings, crops that grow quick and collapse over old manure piles or fertilizer spills. But never an authentic crop circle.”
“It could be somebody playing a joke,” said Job.
Carlson shook his head. “Too well done. Though I pulled one over Stinky Steinke years ago. You know howI drop those automatic flagmen after each pass, to see where I’ve sprayed?”
Job nodded. The flagmen: six-foot lengths of folded, filmy paper, like toilet paper, fastened to six-inch squares of cardboard.
“I ran out of them while I was dusting Steinke’s canola. So instead of going back to base for some more, I flew real low, dropped my wheels into the canola, lifted off again, to mark the line where I’d sprayed. When I stopped in on Stinky he said, ‘Somebody’s been driving in my field but I can’t figure out how he got in there.’ There were no tire tracks coming or going, see? Just the touchdown in the field. I never did tell him. Still hear him worrying over it now and again.” He took off his sunglasses, wiped them. “I should be going too,” he said,
think
they’re aliens.”
“Why the hell would a demon want to go and do that?” said Carlson.
Jacob limped forward, into the crop circle. “It feeds into the whole evolution conspiracy, doesn’t it? Demons want us to believe in evolution because it undermines the Bible, undermines man’s place at the pinnacle of creation. If everyone comes to believe there are other worlds, other intelligent creatures, that makes us just another creature. Jesus dying on the cross to save us doesn’t make a whole lot of sense then, does it?”
Carlson ran a hand over his scalp to flatten his hair. “I don’t mean any disrespect, Pastor Sunstrum. That whole God’s-son-dying-to-save-us thing never made much sense to me. Evolution makes a hell of a lot more sense.”
“Sure evolution makes sense,” said Jacob. “God came up with the idea. He planted the evidence of evolution. He made the world have the appearance of great age, and he put the fossils in place so it would look like there was evolution.”
There was no denying there were fossils. With each pass of the fields Job churned up more fossilized wood. The farm was strewn with it. He took it home and used it as book ends.
“God is outside time,” said Jacob. “He knew there were going to be evolutionists, so he put the fossils under the earth at the time of creation to see who would be faithful to his word. Do we listen to the humanists? Do we trust what we see with our own foolish eyes, what we hear with our own puny ears? Or do we have faith and believe what God told us happened, in the Bible. That’s the test.”
Carlson scratched his neck. “But if God knew there would be evolutionists, then he’d also know who would be faithful and who wouldn’t, wouldn’t he? So why go to all the trouble of planting the fossils in the first place? It seems kind of, I don’t know, deceitful.” When Jacob opened his mouth to reply, Carlson held his hand up. “No offense, but I just want to take a look at this crop circle; I didn’t come for a sermon.”
Jacob’s face the colour of pickled beets. But he smiled. “None taken. We’ve all got a right to our beliefs, no matter how misguided. I’m heading back to the house.” He took a few steps, turned. “Come on, Ben.”
“I want to watch the plane take off.”
“Now!”
“All right.” But Ben didn’t move.
“I said now!”
“I could use Ben’s help moving the bull to the other herd,” said Job. Though he’d already done it.
Jacob let his shoulders drop. “All right. But don’t take long. Lilith will have coffee ready. You know how she gets when we’re late.”
Ben nodded his thanks to his uncle as Jacob limped away.
The faint, sweet smell of insecticide clung to Carlson. Over this the smell of petroleum, the lines of his hands sketched in oil. “I seen lots of things in fields that look like crop circles, you know,” he said. “Fairy rings, crops that grow quick and collapse over old manure piles or fertilizer spills. But never an authentic crop circle.”
“It could be somebody playing a joke,” said Job.
Carlson shook his head. “Too well done. Though I pulled one over Stinky Steinke years ago. You know howI drop those automatic flagmen after each pass, to see where I’ve sprayed?”
Job nodded. The flagmen: six-foot lengths of folded, filmy paper, like toilet paper, fastened to six-inch squares of cardboard.
“I ran out of them while I was dusting Steinke’s canola. So instead of going back to base for some more, I flew real low, dropped my wheels into the canola, lifted off again, to mark the line where I’d sprayed. When I stopped in on Stinky he said, ‘Somebody’s been driving in my field but I can’t figure out how he got in there.’ There were no tire tracks coming or going, see? Just the touchdown in the field. I never did tell him. Still hear him worrying over it now and again.” He took off his sunglasses, wiped them. “I should be going too,” he said,
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