From Hell

by Seth Barder

It never seemed to rain when the fair came to town. The entire week of the fair the sun was shining, only momentarily obscured by small white fluffy clouds drifting lazily across the blue sky. It was a perfect day for everyone to come outside, relax, and enjoy themselves at the county fairgrounds. Hometown vendors sat next to big corporations, both coming out early that day to set up their tents and booths making them as attractive as they could to everyone who’d pass by. There were flashing lights on some, great smelling food and music from others. The acres of a once barren land would be turned into a feast for the senses overnight. In the days to follow fair-goers would speak of their wonderful time to others at work, eagerly urging them to attend, advising which attraction to visit first. So it was, every year, it seemed everyone tried to attend.

  Josh came from a poor family. There was food on the table every night, but little to no money for extra delights. This is why every year when the fair came, his family never attended, but that didn’t stop Josh from getting in. Josh and two of his friends would sneak in a secret opening they’d found while wandering around the backside of the fairgrounds. They had to cross a small creek that separated the grounds from the grove of trees nearby, but luckily a tree had fallen some years ago creating a convenient natural bridge they could easily cross, with the right balancing act of course.

  On the other side of the creek were four trees providing enough shade for the boys to cool off from the summer heat, giving them enough time to spy around inside the fairgrounds without being seen. A six-foot high chain-link fence stood between them and the fun filled arena. The fence looked formidable but behind one particular tree the links had been rusted from years of rain sliding down the trunk, collecting in very fine puddles allowing the rust to grow. When the windy season came it would rub that fence against the tree, acting like a knife cutting into the rusted links finally cutting them free from one another large enough a few teenagers could crawl through. Josh and the other two boys did, being careful not to cut themselves on the rusted ends.

  Once inside the fairgrounds the boys were feeling mighty good about themselves. They looked around with their chins held high at all the fools who paid good money to get in while they, much younger than adults, were able to outwit them. The boys didn't have much money between them, and Josh almost never had any, but they mostly wanted to attend the festivities. Mostly to look for girls they might be interested in. The county fair was the perfect place to look for them. Not only did kids from their school come, but kids from schools farther away showed as well. Even some kids from surrounding counties made the drive to attend. The place was a treasure trove of eligible girls dressed in the most fashionable clothes the mid 1980’s had to offer. The boys would be sure to tryout any line they’d just learned to see if the two would hook up. If they were turned down, it was no problem. There were plenty others there on whom they could practice their teenage charms.

  It was at the fair that Josh met a man, or more precisely was cornered by a man, who talked about Jesus while handing out little booklets with short Bible stories in them. He wasn't a vendor at the fair, he was a patron like everyone else. Well, almost like everyone else. This elderly man walked down the pathways in his plaid shirt and blue jeans held up by red suspenders stopping anyone who passed by, spoke a few kind words to them, and sometimes literally shoved a little booklet in their hand before he let them go. Josh just happened by the man one day.

  One of his friends had been talking about what he was going to do when he became an adult, a subject Josh loved to talk about. All the freedoms an adult has, no one telling them what they can and can’t do. Being able to stay up late, smoke, and not have to do what his mother asked him. He could finally leave the house, get his own place, and be on his own. Josh listened intently to his friend, dreaming about the things he’d do when he was eighteen. He was so deep in thought he didn’t see the old man.

  Before Josh could turn his head the man stepped nearly in front of him and asked, “Do you know Jesus Christ as your Savior?”

  All three almost jumped to the side thinking someone was about to attack them. Josh didn’t have time to answer. The man handed him a little booklet, his whole demeanor expected Josh to take it. Josh and his friends were dumbstruck at the man’s forwardness. Even after they saw who it was and what he wanted the expressions on their faces didn’t change. With the little book in his hand the man stood there waiting, his eyes pleaded with Josh to take the booklet. Josh’s eyes moved from the man’s face to the booklet in his hand. At first Josh didn't want to take it. He knew his buddies, now over their initial shock, were standing there just waiting to see what Josh would do. Seeing Josh wasn’t going to answer right away the large bellied man in his red plaid shirt went on to say if he didn’t know Jesus as his personal Savior he could be in danger of going to hell. The old man’s last comment stirred up something in Josh’s two friends and they began to snicker, trying desperately not to laugh outright. Of all the important things the man said, it was his friend’s snickering that spoke the loudest to Josh. He dared not lose the respect of his friends. Who else would he hang out with? But Josh was still a little off guard after the man made his sudden appearance. The defensive wall he’d kept up to make him look tough wavered a bit, allowing what the man said to seep a little into his soul.

  There was something that drew Josh to what the man was saying. He had felt the tug before, every time he visited his grandparents he’d listen to them casually talking about what a blessing Jesus had done for them in certain areas of their life. They looked happy, contented and at peace as if they’d never had a bad thing happen to them and even if they did, they didn’t stress over it. There was a surreal sense he felt when he entered their house, like he was protected and safe somehow. It made him want to go there more often but Josh was young then and his parents didn’t seem like they wanted to take him, maybe they feared being preached at, Josh wasn’t sure.

  Josh envied his grandparents and the simple way they lived. It was so much different from the chaotic world he lived in. There was so much going on with him physically and spiritually that he had trouble knowing which was more important. His life felt so out of control.

  As the old man stood there patiently waiting for Josh to respond, he was at that crossroads again. Feeling the same familiar tug but concerned he’d be alienated by his only friends. Now was another chance for him to choose one of the two roads he’d walk. He felt like the right thing to do was to choose Jesus, he just didn’t feel any real need to. He certainly wouldn’t admit any of this to the old man still holding out the tiny booklet with a slight hopeful smile on his face.

  The man asked again whether Josh knew Jesus Christ as his personal Savior, holding out the booklet a little further. Josh didn’t answer. He took the booklet, mainly out of reflex but also because he didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. Unconsciously, he shoved the booklet into his pocket and managed to answer the man’s question with a, “Yes,” in sort of a grunting mumble hoping to pacify his friends into thinking he really wasn’t that interested. The man seemed contented with that. He turned to his left and walked on to the next unsuspecting person that happened to walk by. “Do you know Jesus as your personal Savior?” he would repeat with the same anticipation. Josh, now feeling off the hook, breathed a sigh of relief and started in a direction opposite to where the old man was.

  “Jus’ imagine what that ‘ol man woulda’ done had I told him I didn’t believe,” Josh said to his friends trying to sound sincere.

  The boys laughed and teased Josh as they walked.

  “Man, if it was me, I’d had told him off the minute he grabbed me. ‘Don’t push your religion on me old man!’ That’d shut him up.” one friend said

  “No doubt,” agreed the other, cussing before he continued, “man, those Bible-thumpers can really be pushy.”

  “Yeah,” responded the first, continuing on sarcastically “Telling me to be a Christian or else really makes me wanna do it.”

 
; “Turn or burn,” both boys said in unison as the three laughed out loud about it.

  Josh may have laughed out loud but inside he was wondering if they really felt that way or were they struggling with the same feelings he was. Maybe they were trying to mask it by their comments so their feelings wouldn’t surface too near.

  “Why’d you take that stupid book anyway?”

  “Yeah, I’d have thrown it back in his face.”

  Josh shrugged knowing now he’d have to play off the real reason, “I didn’t want him to keep pushin’ me, I jus’ wanted him to leave. I knew what those kinds of Christians were like. If you show them you don’t care, they hound you until give in.”

  “Pht! Ain’t that the truth.” One of the boys agreed in disgust.

  “So,” Josh continued still trying to act cool as well as the most intelligent of the three, “I figured the quickest way to shut him up was to take the book, tell him what he wants to hear, and let him move on.” Josh’s pride began to swell, thinking he was a genius to formulate such a brilliant answer so quickly.

  “Good thing too. If you hadn’t come up with anything quicker, we would’ve left you there.”

  All three boys laughed about the thought of Josh being stuck there for hours by the old man as he convinced Josh to follow Jesus. They eventually moved their attention on to other more important things, like girls. Josh looked back at the old man. Not too many people seemed interested in what he had to say either. Some went out of their way to completely avoid him. Others took the booklet, glanced at it, and let it fall to the ground. The man quickly stooped down and picked up the booklet, brushing it off with such care, like some kind of precious thing that had just been carelessly manhandled. For a moment Josh pitied the old man. But also feared his true feelings would show weakness. He hardened his heart again, turned back to his friends and joined in their conversation never once thinking of that old man again.

  When Josh got home that night he pulled the booklet out of his pocket and looked at the front. The cover was tan in color. The title at the top was printed in white and read “The Prodigal Son”. Below it was a simple yet well-done drawing of a young man, wearing tattered clothes, walking towards a mud brick house in what looked like some desert. In the doorway of the house was an older man walking towards him with his arms wide open.

  Josh had heard the story before, even though he still wasn’t sure what the word “prodigal” really meant. It was a favorite Bible story he’d heard told often when he was young either in church or Sunday school. But hearing the story and seeing it illustrated was something different. The little booklet made the story become more real somehow.

  He lay down on his bed and began to read. Since it wasn’t a thick booklet, it only took him a few minutes to finish. It was an interesting story. The fact that a father would forgive his son even though he’d done something that, by all normal accounts, should have made his father never trust his son again. But when the son came home, his father didn’t even care to know all of the bad things he’d done with the money he’d given him. His father was just happy he was safely home. And, from what Josh read in the story, the father never brought it back up or threw his son’s past choices in his face. Instead, the father acted as if it had never happened and treated his son as though he had never left. It was a good story. Josh liked it. It was the type of father every child should have. Josh knew his own father wouldn’t have that kind of compassion on him if he’d made similar choices.

  While Josh’s father was nice to most people he was more demanding on Josh, at least that’s the way it seemed to him. It may have been because his father expected more from him, but Josh didn’t know. He felt no matter how hard he tried he could never please his father. Everything Josh did wasn’t good enough for him. Maybe that was what intrigued him about the story. He wanted that kind of acceptance regardless of his shortcomings. Maybe that was why he scoffed at anyone trying to talk to him about Jesus. It was hard for him to believe God would forgive him, or anyone for that matter, and forget about all the bad things he had done. He felt he’d never measure up to God’s standards so he just figured, why try and gave up.

  As he grew up he found others who felt rejected, abandoned, and unloved by their father’s as well. They were kids who felt worthless looking for some positive self value. Feelings he still felt as he lay on his bed. He tossed the booklet in the trash figuring it was no use to keep something that doesn’t apply to him. There was no loving father to welcome him back with open arms. His father was five states away with his new family. Besides, if he kept it, he’d feel that stinging pain in his heart when he knew no one loved him like that father loved his misguided son. In Josh’s young mind he felt he must be different. He must have disappointed God so much He just gave up on him. Now he was more than alone. He had no father and no God to help him. All he had left was his friends. All this he convinced himself of before he went to sleep that night.

  Chapter 10