CHAPTER 66
On the way home, Eldred said, 'If someone had a lot of money - if they sold an invention, for instance - and could afford the best medical treatment with the most sophisticated technology, anywhere in the world, could they be cured of anything?’
Mildred, who had been sitting in a stupor of tiredness, took his hand gently. 'No one could cure Keith, love,’ she said.
'Not even God?’
'He doesn't seem to,’ said Mildred.
'Do you think Jesus really healed people?’ asked Eldred. 'Or is it a myth?’
'I don't know, love. Maybe he did.’
'Why doesn't it happen now?’
'Eldred, don't ask me these things. How am I supposed to know?’
'Do you think it was that Jesus was a special person?’
'Yes, probably that's it,’ said Mildred. She had never worn these tight, high-heeled shoes for so long at one time. Her feet felt as though they would never revert to their normal shape; they would stay with the toes crammed together into a point forever now.
'But why,’ said Eldred, 'if God is good, would he listen to Jesus’s prayers more than to anyone else's? I mean, that doesn't seem fair, does it? To have favourites?’
As usual when he got no reply, he attempted to answer his question himself. 'Perhaps,’ he said, 'we don't really pray. I mean, maybe people think they're praying but really they're just hoping for the best and thinking at the back of their minds, "This isn't going to work.” Maybe that's it. What do you think?’
'Mm,’ said Mildred, far away.
'So why,’ said Eldred, 'doesn't he give us a few tips on how to pray? If we knew the words ... no, that's not it. I'm sure it's not like that or it would be like a spell, wouldn't it? Like magic. It can't be a question of knowing what words to say or what rituals to use. Mum? Mum?’
'Yes, dear.’
'What's the difference between prayer and magic?’
'Oh, Eldred!’
'I'm only asking.’
'You should know by now I'm not the person to ask, Eldred. Your poor mum is dim.’
He hunched his shoulders. 'You're not. I don't mind if you don't have all the answers. I just wanted your opinion.’
'What was the question again?’
'If prayer is different from magic, what makes it different?’
Mildred frowned. 'I suppose it must be God. Magic isn't anything to do with him, is it? He forbids it.’
'Oh, does he?’ Eldred was interested. 'I didn't know that. You mean, wizards and witches and magicians - they're not working with him; they're doing their own thing?’
'I suppose they must be. If he forbids magic, then he can't be with them, can he? Two more stations, Eldred. Have your ticket ready.’
'How do you know he forbids it, Mum? Mum, how do you know?’
'It's in the Bible,’ said Mildred. She wanted to be at home with her feet in a bowl of water, with Edgar making her a cup of tea. She felt as though she had been on a long journey into unknown territory and hadn't seen her husband for weeks.
'In the Bible? Have you read it, Mum?’
'Yes, dear.’
'All of it? It's huge! You don't read books!’
'Not all of it,’ Mildred admitted. 'But we did a lot of it at school and in Sunday school.’
'Were you taught about it by other people, though, or did you read it for yourself? Keith says you have to find out about God yourself first; you can't do it all second-hand because it's not scientific.’
'We were taught,’ said Mildred, 'but some of us were interested and read a lot of it for ourselves.’
'Is it a good book?’
'It's not a book,’ said Mildred. 'It's lots and lots of books, written at different times over thousands of years.’
'By people who had got to know God for themselves?’
'That's right. One more station, Eldred.’
'Who were they, though? And how did they get to know him, if they weren't taught second-hand but found out for themselves?’
'The early ones were all Jewish,’ said Mildred, gathering up her handbag and carrier bag. 'They were prophets and religion-leader people who told how to live the commandments in day-to-day life. Then the New Testament part - that's the books about Jesus - was written by people who met him and tried to live like he did.’
'What's a prophet?’ asked Eldred.
'Someone who listens to God.’
'Listens to God?’ Eldred was agog. 'You mean, God talks?’
'Of course, dear,’ said Mildred. 'How else would we have the ten commandments? Don't screw up your ticket like that, Eldred; the man won't be able to read the date on it.’
'Mum!’ said Eldred. 'How long have you known all this?’
'All what, dear?’
'About God.’
'Always, I suppose,’ said Mildred.
'Why didn't you ever tell me? How can you say that you're dim and you don't know anything and all the time you knew all this and you never told me?’
'I thought you'd learn it in school or something,’ said Mildred. 'You do religion at school, don't you?’
'Oh, religion, yes,’ said Eldred dismissively. 'But not this. We do myths and religious beliefs and practices, Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam and all that. Nobody tells us about God and how you get to know him, or if he really exists.’
The train stopped. Mildred took Eldred's arm with painful firmness as they got off. She was always afraid he might fall down the four-inch gap between the carriage and the platform and have to have his foot amputated.
They were silent as they walked home. It was only as they reached the front gate that Eldred said, as if to himself, 'Talks to people? You're sure about this? So what do you have to do to be a prophet? Mum?’
But Edgar was already opening the door.
'I was looking out for you,’ he said. 'How did you get on?’
Mildred flung her arms around him. 'Oh, Edgar,’ she said, 'you know I never tell you what to do, but let him go to that new school, will you, love? I can't go through a day like today again!’
Genius Page 66
