Read Online Conceived Without Sin by Bud Macfarlane - Free Book Online Page A

memory blots outthere for a while. I don't remember finding my mother. The next thing I remember is a memory that I think of often when I drive my car.
    "My mom got our other neighbor, Mrs. Epstein, and Mrs. Epstein drove us in the Thunderbird to the hospital, though I don't remember getting to the hospital. I was in my mother's lap, the pain was gone. She was whispering nice things to me, calming me. The redtint was gone. It was a warm summer night, and the convertible top was open, and I looked past my mother to the sky. It must have been early evening, because a full moon was rising above the trees. It wasn't quite dark out yet.
    "I remember how the moon was following us. You know the optical illusion I'm describing. This was the first time I ever noticed it. It delighted me. I was warm, in my mother'sarms, and curious about the moon. 'Mommy, how come the moon is following us?'
    "'Because it loves you,' she told me. "That's where the memory ends.
    "Mom must have died within a few months. It was a car accident, Donna. That's my last memory of her. I'm thankful that it's very happy and vivid." Sam finished.
    "Thankful to whom?" Buzz asked.
    "Beg your pardon?" Sam asked.
    "You said you were thankfulthat your memory was warm and vivid. To whom are you thankful?"
    Donna watched Sam's eyes drop to the table, and his hands, normally calm, nervously fumbled with a napkin.
    "I know where you're going with that question, Buzz, and it won't work. It's just a figure of speech. A remnant of western civilization. I'm not thankful to God."
    "That must really stink," Donna observed sympathetically.
    "Nothaving a mom?" Sam asked.
    "No. I'm sorry your mom died. Not having a mom is really awful, but what I meant was not having anyone to thank when something good happens to you."
    "I can thank real people for things. I thank my father for things."
    "So can I," Buzz offered kindly. "But I also thank God for things. I mean, who do we thank for getting better after we're sick?"
    "Simple: nobody," Sam said.
    "Nobody, huh?" Donna replied skeptically. "That still stinks. It's…it's so dry. I just met you, Sam, and I don't want to be critical of your beliefs, or should I say lack of belief, but they're so foreign to me."
    "What Sam thinks is always interesting, Donna, because he doesn't believe. He's honest about it. That's what I like about you, Sam. You're honest, and about as thoughtful and kind a personas I've ever known. You never get defensive. You just reject any kind of proof of God and move on. You don't refute belief. You ignore it. Isn't that a fair assessment, Sam?"
    "Pretty much. Christianity or Buddhism or Taoism simply don't interest me. Business interests me. Sports interest me, art interests me–"
    "You like art?" Donna interrupted. "Who's your favorite artist?"
    "El Greco, hands down."
    "I like El Greco, too. But my favorite is van Gogh."
    "He cut his ear off," Buzz said with a strange smile.
    "Yeah, he did," Sam said.
    "Do you ever wonder why when people bring up Vincent van Gogh they always tell you he cut his ear off?" Buzz asked. "I mean, they bring it up even though you already know it."
    "No, Buzz," Sam replied. "I don't wonder about that."
    "Well, I do. There's a whole groupingof information like that. For example, when you're getting ready to play any kind of sport, your coach always says, 'You should stretch out, Sam Fisk. Stretching out prevents injuries.' As if we hadn't heard that a million times before."
    "Where are you going with this, Buzz?" Sam asked, slightly frustrated.
    "The usual place, Sam–nowhere," Buzz responded. "I have more on my list."
    "I just thoughtof a couple," Donna piped in.
    Sam shook his head.
    "Well?" Buzz asked Donna.
    "Well, people always tell you that the original ingredient in Coca-Cola was cocaine," she began. "Then, they always say, for emphasis, 'That's where they got the name from.' As if they just let you in on some kind of secret." Donna's tone was almost miffed.
    "That's it!" Buzz