Cause and Effect, A Fictional Short, Part 1

Chapter 1

1987

My parents believe everything that happens is God’s will. When my father was born with bad lungs, it was God’s will. When my mother had four miscarriages, birthed six girls, and no boys, it was God’s will. When my sister was struck and killed by a car while walking home from school, it was God’s will. So you can imagine how irritating it would be for my devout parents that their youngest daughter wasn’t particularly interested in getting on God’s good side.
While all of the other little ducklings fell in line, obediently trailing Momma down the center aisle and humbly kneeling in the middle pew, the last of us bristled under the covers refusing to get out of bed. At the wise age of six I was already questioning “If God wants me to go to church, why don’t I want to go?” or “Why does God plan mass so early in the morning?”
Since I was only four when God killed my sister Frances, sending the rest of my family into a tailspin, it didn’t occur to me to be particularly angry with Him. I have no memories of that sister. However, as the years passed and my parents become fearful tyrants, barely letting any of us out of their sight, I became increasingly pissed off at Him. I believed in God back then, and if everything else was God’s will, than it followed that it was God’s will for my parents to become fearful tyrants. See the logic?
Sophomore year of college during an Introduction to Philosophy class Dr. Edgar Martin introduced me to a God alternative: a theory called Hard Determinism. According to this theory, God has nothing to do with it. I listened and watched as Dr. Martin explained the theory to the class. It was mid-semester and I hadn’t seen him get this excited about any other theories he’d presented. He obviously believed this one was the theory of all theories. Dr. Martin was an atheist! The first one I’d ever met.

The theory of Hard Determinism states:
All events in the material world are governed by cause and effect.
All human actions are events.
Therefore, all human actions are caused. (NOT BY GOD!)

This explained an awful lot. For example, instead of God killing my sister, I could trace a series of events that caused her death. Let me do that for you now. The clock struck 3:10 p.m. causing the nuns to dismiss the children. Two third grade girls, my sister and her friend, walked out of school down the street toward the crossing guard. The rule: if you live on the other side of the street, cross with the guard or don’t cross at all. The main street through town is a busy thoroughfare with the Catholic school on one side and my house, several blocks down on the other. On that particular day, the two girls were involved in an animated conversation about one Mathew Stahl whose antics earlier that day caused Sister Anne Mary to grab him by the shirt collar and toss him into the coat closet. The girls’ dialogue caused my sister Francis to continue walking with her friend on the wrong side of the street. Realizing she’d be in trouble for disregarding the crossing rule, Frances decided to cross the street two blocks before arriving at our house. Waving goodbye to her friend, head turned away from the street, Frances stepped into the path of a 1967 Chevy. My sister didn’t see the car because she was looking the other way. God didn’t kill her at all. She simply walked in front of a Chevy causing the Chevy to kill her. Since the lady driving the Chevy was controlling the car, it follows the lady killed my sister, not God.
It was bound to happen. Not because it was God’s will. According to the theory of hard determinism, it was determined to happen simply through a series of material causes.
I wrote a paper using my sister’s death as the perfect example demonstrating the theory of Hard Determinism. I got an A. I became Dr. Martin’s favorite student. Cause and effect: writing a paper espousing the merits of Hard Determinism causes professor to like me.
Hard determinism became my God alternative. And, it’s how I’m going to explain the story that I really want to tell. Here is the thing I still haven’t been able to resolve. Get this. If everything that happens is God’s will, it doesn’t seem fair to blame anyone for anything. If, for example it had been God’s will for my sister to die, you couldn’t blame her for disobeying the rules and you couldn’t blame the woman driving the Chevy. If it was Hard determinism, you couldn’t blame anyone either. Hard determinism, it seems, takes away culpability just as much as the God theory. If a series of causes produces some effect and decisions are effects, you can’t really blame anyone for their decisions, can you?
Anyway, you can decide for yourself after I tell you the whole story.

I’m Listening – A short Essay

I wish they’d stop talking about me as if I can’t understand a word they’re saying. I’m right here in the same room with them.

How insensitive! How insulting!

“She’s had a good life.”   “We’ve done our part.”  “Maybe she’s suffering more than we know.”

Stop it! I can’t stand it. I’m right here!

Sure maybe I have an accident here and there. I am old. That’s what old folks do on occasion. But, I’m not ready to go. Not yet. I have had a good life, mostly. And, sure they’ve done their part. Taking care of me, making sure I’m fed and warm at night. But, why now? Why are they so hell bent on killing me now? It is killing after all. Unless I die, say of natural causes, it’s still killing. They’re claiming it’s “merciful” for Pete’s sake. How is killing me, ending my life when I don’t want to die, merciful?

She looks at me and cries. She says, “I’m sorry.” and “I love you.” Apparently she thinks I can understand some things.

And him! The things he says about me. Calling me mentally challenged just because I don’t do what he wants me to do. Ha! It’s called passive aggressive asshole. I do what I want, when I want. I’m neither mentally challenged nor demented. Far from it.

She took me to the doctor the other day. You’d think a doctor with so much experience would know better than to talk about me when I’m in the room. Seriously. I couldn’t look at either one of them. I turned and faced the corner of the room. She said to the doctor, “Oh my God look at her, she won’t look at us! Do you think she understands what we are talking about?”

“No, of course not.” The doctor replied. “She’s just not happy to be here.”

I most certainly was not happy to be there while she poked and prodded me. Listening to my heart murmur and squeezing my bladder. “Yes I do understand you!” I wanted to scream. But I didn’t. I just sat with my back to them listening as they discussed the ‘situation’.

“Do you think I’m being selfish?” She asked, needing validation from the doctor.

“I’m not judging you if that’s what you mean.” The doctor replied. Though I think she secretly was judging just a little. “She’s definitely got issues and I understand it’s difficult for you to care for her at this point. It’s messy and gross at times.”

“But I mean, do you think it’s time? What would you do in my situation?” She persisted.

“Only you and your husband can decide. It’s really not for me to say.” The doctor replied, but I know if I were living with the good doctor she’d keep me around. I’m not that much trouble. I sleep most of the day and when I’m awake you’d hardly know I’m around unless I fart. The farting is more frequent, I’ll admit it.

When we returned home, they were talking. She said, “I just can’t do it yet. It’s not that bad. She still has some life left in her and I’m not ready to say good-bye.”

“OK.” He said. What could he say? “Just do it! Just kill her and get it over with!” No he wouldn’t do that. Too much blame on him. He couldn’t handle the guilt. No, it has to be a joint decision.

So it looks like I’ve got a reprieve for a while. I’m trying really hard not to make any messes. I haven’t peed myself for several days now. I’m on a roll. The farting – well – I can’t help that and they don’t really seem to mind. In fact, they chuckle when I pass that smelly gas.

She walks by me and pats my head. “Oh Sadie, you silly dog. I love you. We’re gonna keep you around a while longer, girl.”

Yes, she thinks I understand some things. And I most definitely do.