Previous Challenge Entry
Topic: Labor (04/19/04)
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TITLE: UNWAVERING HOPE – 4TH AND REALLY FINAL PT. By Faithaline Stanislaus 04/24/04 |
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He felt under his jacket and reassured himself that the object was still there. As he felt it, beads of perspiration began to slide down his forehead. Could he really do it? Could he kill his own father? Anish would be easy enough to execute. He had never liked that little spoilt brat anyway. But Father—he didn’t know if he could go ahead with it.
Taking a deep breath, Abhijat pulled the gun from under his jacket and silently stepped into the living room. Paras sat with a bible open on his lap and Anish sat across from him, with a bible as well.
Paras was just saying, “…so Jesus is the express image of God, and in him all the fullness of the deity dwells bodily.”
Anish spotted Abhijat with the gun first.
“Abhijat, what are you doing?” he asked.
Paras turned his head toward the door.
“Abhijat, put that gun down!” he ordered.
“Quiet, both of you!” said Abhijat, as he pointed the gun in Paras’ direction.
“What are you planning to do with that?” asked Paras.
“Use it as a token in a nice game of Monopoly—what do you think, Father?”
“Don’t do something you will regret.”
“Regret? I am already full of regrets. All those years I labored with you and for you—and what did I get? Yet this son of yours goes off to enjoy life in America, turns away from the faith, marries a Christian, and after all that you still welcome him with open arms.”
“Abhijat, you remind me of a story in the bible.”
“I’m too old for bedtime stories, Father.”
“Just listen. There was a man who had two sons. The younger one said to his father, ‘Give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had and set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. After he had spent everything there was a famine in that country and he became utterly destitute. One day he said to himself: ‘How many of my father’s hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! I will go back to my father and tell him that I have done wrong. I will ask him to make me like one of his hired men.’
“When he arrived home, his father had compassion on him. He threw his arms around him and kissed him. He refused to hear the son’s request to be made like a hired man. He ordered the servants to put the best robe on him, a ring on his finger and shoes on his feet. Then he ordered them to kill the fattened calf—”
“They killed a cow!” Abhijat interrupted.
“Perhaps that was the wrong story to choose for a Hindu,” Paras thought ruefully. Aloud he said, “Never mind that. The point is they had a party in his honor.
“Meanwhile the older son was in the field. When he got near the house he heard the music and asked what was going on. He was told that his brother had returned and his father had thrown him a party. The older brother became angry and refused to go in, so the father went out to him. The older son said: ‘All these years I’ve been slaving for you, you never gave me anything so I could have a party with my friends. But when this son of yours who has squandered your property comes home, you give him a party!’
“Then the father said: ‘My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate because this brother of yours was lost and is found.’”
“So what is your point, Father?” Abhijat asked dryly.
“You and your brothers have always been with me, and I love you. But I haven’t seen Anish in years. I even thought he was dead. It is right for me to be glad about his return. You, Abhijat, have actually had the advantage of being with me, and working together with me, whereas Anish has been away from home and away from me for years. There is enough for both of you.”
Putting his bible aside, Paras stood up and began to walk steadily toward Abhijat.
“Father, don’t!” said Anish.
“You’d better listen to him, Father,” Abhijat warned.
However Paras kept advancing toward Abhijat. “I love you—I’ve always loved you. And now that I’ve embraced Christ, I love you even more, because now I know what love really is.”
Abhijat’s hand that held the gun trembled slightly, but he shook his head vigorously. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. And do you know what else? I’d love you still even though you did pull that trigger.”
Abhijat gave a derisive snort. “If I shot you and you survived you’d despise me—you’d also retaliate if you could.”
“Perhaps the old me would have done so, but not the new me. Now hand me that gun.” Paras stretched out his hand to receive the gun and added, “You don’t have to labor anymore to earn my love—you already have it.”
Abhijat let out a sob, then broke into convulsive weeping. Paras gently took the gun from his hand and handed it to Anish. Then he pulled Abhijat into his arms and hugged him fiercely. “It’s all right son,” he said, patting his back. “Just wait until I tell you about the One who loves you even more than I do.”