She now moves with a rhythm of her own, like that life choice was a good one. Maybe AA Sid can understand a bit better now, and that sibling rhythm could help him break through his own illusions of wealth. Jo lives a life naturally spiritual, like genetic kindness, just helping people out by default. Not through any quit-drinking spiritual awakening either. Nor any born-again meeting with Jesus. She talked about Buddha for a while after India, but still she claims no religion.
Spiritual or religious, the idea is no different. Religion must have something to say about money, about wealth. The Romaniuks, now they’re one family with faith; they just might have something to say. Their strong foundation comes through the one and only church in Debden, one the Pope may one day come to visit. Why not find out about the biggest denomination’s version of wealth, why not now?
He slides the last chair in under a table, waves Franco along, and wanders over to Auntie Teresa, questions burning.
“Hey Auntie,” he starts “how’re we doing?”
She looks at him with her ever-warm smile, creased brow, eyes deeply concerned. “Ohh … we need to move the roasts into the fridge as soon as Francis brings them in … and the salad, we need big bowls for the salad, I’ll have to talk to Anna, but it’s too soon to make salad, we have to keep it fresh …”
A small person collides with her leg, interrupting.
“Oh hi sweetie …what have you got there?”
“Sami gave it to me, Gramma.”
“Ohh … let me see,” Auntie Teresa bends over. “That’s so nice of Sami. Did you say thank you?”
“Nooo,” the little girl shakes her head, looking down. “I forgot.”
“Well, you go tell her thank you,” Teresa sends the child scurrying.
“It’s so wonderful when they learn to share.” Auntie Teresa rises, glowing. “Children can be such a treasure.”
“Treasure,” Sid nods. “Maybe like treasure in heaven? You know Auntie, I was reading the Bible just a little, and it talks about that treasure in heaven in a few places. I wonder what kind of treasure that really is.”
“Huh!” says Franco. “I can tell you one thing about that kind of treasure; you can’t buy a thing with it, not even a chocolate bar in a corner store.” He looks at Sid and their aunt. “Well try it.” He challenges.
“It’s not about money or buying things, Franco.” Auntie Teresa’s smile dims slightly. “Are you going to mass on Sundays, Franco? Money can actually get between people and the Lord.”
“There’s one place in the Bible where it says if you’re rich,” Sid speaks slowly, an eyebrow rising, “well, if you’re rich, your chances of heaven are the same as a camel getting through the eye of a needle.”
Teresa nods. Franco stares.
“Yah,” Sid goes on. “So you know, I’m wondering just what the church says about wealth … like about being rich, Auntie Teresa. What does that actually mean when they say treasure in heaven?” Sid feels his heart thump an on-the-edge beat.
“You just have to believe, the treasure is faith in the Lord. Father Suarich would know more, you should come to mass this Sunday,” her face takes on a soft glow. Then she puts her finger to her lower lip. “You know, Jamie just finished a Bible study … let’s ask her.”
###
Jamie is pinning up posters high on the wall, standing on two tables along the hall’s near edge. They walk over.
“Jamie, what does it say in the Bible about heaven and being rich? Sidney’s reading the Good Book and he wants to know about treasure in heaven. You know, being rich in the Lord, not so much rich in the world.”
Jamie looks down at them, arms up holding a poster for Amy to pin. “Oh, hi Sid. Are you thinking about coming to church?” A sly smile creeps across her face. “About heaven? About being rich? You know the parable about the camel, I’m sure. Jesus tells the rich young man to sell all his possessions and give the money to the poor and come and follow Him. But the young man turns away …” She looks directly down at them. “ … ‘cause he’s got one big heap of possessions. So Jesus tells his apostles it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the gates of heaven.”
“What a story.” Franco shakes his head. “That’s one for Sunday school kids. Everyone knows that’s impossible. How can a huge camel go through a tiny hole like that? Anyway, we’ve got cars now, not camels.”
“There was a really narrow gate through the walls of Jerusalem,” explains Jamie. “Some scholars say it was called ‘The Eye of the Needle’, and that’s what Jesus meant.”
“Yah, now that I think of it, I heard a rational explanation like that,” says Sid. “My friend Jack was reading this modern bible where they say they think Jesus meant a rope made of camel hair. A rope would be easier to believe, if you had a big needle, but still ...” He looks at Franco. “Doesn’t it just mean that it’s really difficult for a rich person to get into heaven?”
“There’s a lot written about the Bible that isn’t in it.” Jamie purses her lips.
“Oh, really.” Franco remarks lightly. “I thought everything was in the Bible.”
“So just what is heaven?” Sid turns to Jamie. “I never could find a simple description of heaven in the Bible, but maybe there is one somewhere else.”
“I can tell you what I believe.” Jamie says. “It’s really quite simple. God is in heaven, so heaven is like being close to God, and you get there, close to God I mean, by doing what God tells you to do.”
“Well what about clouds with angels,” Sid asks. “And all those jokes about St. Peter at the gates.”
“There you go. Now you’ve got the reality of it, Sid,” says Franco. “Jokes. None of it makes any sense and there is no real treasure. It’s all a bunch of stories, just some really off humour. It’s for kids in Sunday school, I tell you.”
Jamie and Teresa shake their heads.
“Amy, grab the next poster. We’re putting them all up here, right Jo?”
“Yes, Grandpa’s old passport photo should fit in right next to Uncle Harry,” says Jo. “It’s looking really great girls.”
“I wish I could be rich,” Amy pipes in. “Like Jessica.”
“Who’s Jessica?” Sid inquires.
“She watches a TV show … a soap,” Jamie answers for her sister. “Jessica is a high society girl living in some mansion in California. She’s really rich, in the worldly sense. But the Bible says you can’t serve both God and worldly riches. You should think about that Amy. Doesn’t Jessica have problems just like the rest of us?”
“Oh, no. She’s just perfect. She has everything and she’s sooo beautiful,” Amy rolls her eyes. She glances at her mother. “I mean I know the Bible is right; I know I should listen to Jesus.”
“Hey, sounds like Andrew and Auntie Lola … maybe they’re Jessica’s neighbours,” says Sid. “They live in California in a big house. Andy says their house is just like the one by Witchekan Lake – you guys know it? It’s big enough for a …” he pauses. “But I still don’t get this treasure in heaven, what it is its value? I mean really.”
“It’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?” Jo has been listening. “You just have to be a good person. You have to share yourself and everything you have with others so you make good friends. If you don’t like the word God, just put another ‘o’ in it. I mean you won’t have much of real friends if all you think about is your money and your stuff.”
“Customers and clients are friends,” Franco points out. “You have to treat them well too.”
“You know,” Jamie ignores Franco, “there’s another place in the Bible where it says just what Jo said. It’s a letter Paul wrote to Timothy. It says to tell the rich people to be rich in good deeds, to be generous and ready to share. The letter says by doing this, rich people will be saving a treasure for the future. Not only that, they will have true life. That would be heavenly treasure, not society riches like Jessica has,” she looks directly at her sister.
Jo has alway
s been intuitive, she has some deeper connection. Sid’s sure she hasn’t found religion since they last talked, so how is it now her views sound so remarkably like religious teachings?
“So could the treasure in heaven be sort of a stock market of good deeds and a person’s generosity,” Sid speculates, “ … like an account of what you give away rather than any profit you make?”
“More like a trick to keep poor people like me happy with a dream,” says Franco. “While the Thomson family gets richer.”
“Well I hope you get what that Thomson family has, Franco,” Jamie speaks her mind. “I like Sid’s idea better. I don’t exactly see heaven as a stock market, but I guess you could look at it that way. I mean I suppose we can invest in our souls.”
Jo and Auntie Teresa are torn between scowling at Franco and nodding as they listen.
“If it’s for the future … well that almost sounds like an investment, doesn’t it?” says Sid. “I mean, you sort of have a portfolio of investments with God’s stock market, or however you see the heavenly treasure, and maybe you have some in Thomson stocks too. With the Thomson’s you make cash, with the treasure, you get close to God … as you understand Him.” He slips into AA lingo.
“I suppose …” Jamie looks thoughtfully at Sid. “Maybe.”
“Well my financial advisor,” Franco looks directly at both of them. “Would laugh that kind of investment through the roof.”
“And it sounds like it’s not just for Heaven when you die. It’s more like heaven right here on earth. You say Paul tells Timothy they get true life. I mean true life, that’s gotta be part of this life we’re living right now, eh?” Sid looks at Franco. “So it can be a real investment, just like the money markets.”
Franco’s eyes glaze over.
Sid looks away … a speaker in an AA meeting once said he used to be a taker, and now, in his old age, he’s become a part-time giver. And the lyrics of childhood echo out from the Scout Hall, the pack of green-capped Cubs chanting … and to do a good turn to someone every day. The idea isn’t new, just off and on forgotten.
Jamie’s voice brings Sid back. “… for what shall it profit a man if he gaineth the whole world, and looseth his own soul?” she’s saying. “There’s something Jesus says directly about profit.”
“A profit margin is something you definitely have to hold if you want any kind of a successful business,” Franco comes to life. “No profit, you go bankrupt. It’s that simple.”
“If you listen close, it’s about how much profit and what kind of profit,” Jamie shakes her head at Franco. “Would you trade your soul to own the whole world?”
Sid breathes in this new quote, hearing its profit warning. Yet, as Franco says, profit is the basis of the practical market. What else would drive the economy? But losing your soul is a lame thing; at least rock and roll songs say so. Could there be some other kind of profit?
The girls push the final pin and getting down off the tables, stand back to let Jo make appraisal. With some select hurrahs, they turn to the other wall, where bowls of flowers around the family tree await arrangement. Sid looks at Auntie Lola’s branch with three smaller branches, then sees Uncle Harry’s beside. He glances again, surprised to see Uncle Harry has a tiny branch too.
“Dad’s back. Are you guys helping?” Jamie looks towards her father coming through the door, then at Sid and Franco.
Sid winks at Jamie, smiling as he follows Franco over to unload more for the feast.
###
Later, Sid walks by Amy, adjusting her daughter’s clothes.
“So how’s life in Saskatoon, Amy?”
“Oh, you know, Bryan’s still working at the warehouse … the kids play around the trailer court,” her forehead wrinkles. “Sometimes I wish I was back on the farm – things were better there. Or if we could only get a nicer place in the city ...”
“I guess I can see why you like Jessica.”
“Oh yes,” Amy brightens. “She’s just sooo beautiful. Maybe she does have a problem or two, but she just goes for lunch at the Marriot on San Francisco Bay. She watches the planes take off and land through the window and everything is wonderful again.”
“Sounds amazing, but it is just a TV show isn’t it?” Sid feels a little strange, vouching for reality. “You should talk to cousin Andrew, though, ‘cause he lives down in California. Redondo Beach is part of Los Angeles.”
“Oh really?” Amy’s eyes, having darkened, spring back. “Jessica lives in Los Angeles, on Santa Monica Boulevard. She takes a cab to the airport and heads for the Marriot. Wow, yes, I have to talk to Andrew. But I’m sorry, I just talk about myself. How are you, Sid? ”
“Things are pretty good. I’m happy to be here around the family. You know, life is so much better since I had those experiences,” Sid raises an eyebrow, “… like when I quit drinking I mean. That’s why I’m kind of interested in religion.”
“Well I don’t know about church, but I’m glad I never drank that much,” she shakes her head. “Uncle Harry still drinks his life away, Mom says. He won’t even make it to the reunion and that’s pretty sad.”
“Oh really, your mom talked to Uncle Harry? Hey, does he have a kid?”
“Mom invited him. But he’s probably too busy at the bar. It’s like he lives there,” says Amy disgustedly. “Mom should just give up on him, I think. Yes he has a daughter, didn’t you know? Mom says she grew up in a foster home. He’s so irresponsible.”
“Well miracles – like the church calls them – do happen Amy. One happened to me anyways … now I have this new way, and I know lots of people in AA with stories just like Uncle Harry’s … so don’t give up on him … maybe we’ll meet his daughter some day.”
“Yah, sure. Look, I gotta go help Mom. Bryan’s gonna be here soon. So come over and say hi.” Amy sends her daughter back to play.
###
Sid strolls over to the yellow door, squinting into the shining sky. His mind buzzes. If God really created that pretty blue sky, maybe a lot of other things are true too. Not so long back he thought a lot more like Franco. Yet, what if what Franco says is true? Or Amy’s television show could be the way. Why not spend time wrapped up in a good TV show? He decides to take a spin before the crowds arrive.
He hops in the Fairmont and drives out of the lot. Past the store in the village centre, he pulls out of town, onto the tiny piece of secondary that ends two miles north at Rabbit Beach. He pulls over on the paved loop beside the sandy beach sitting calm and empty.
No place he knows of is a more spectacular out of the way place than this beach. If God created that sky, this is for sure an added portrait of wonder to have below it. He looks past the beach, out around the broad surrounding bay. Poplars, sprinkled with a few spruce, circle the water’s edge. The brilliant white sand stretches out each way to meet green reeds waving a welcome in the swirling air. How many times did they come here as kids, to wade in the shallows, chasing minnow schools as they darted back and forth from room to room beneath the glimmering roof of their clear water home.
Childhood captures him, drawing him to the playground swings. He sits and hangs forward, looking across at Pelican Rocks where they cooked fish on the fire yesterday. Almost like a different lake from this view, a distinctively altered outlook. Like life. Whatever perspective one chooses depends on which beach one chooses, and the outlook is completely at odds with all others.
The minnow chaser within starts to hum, and then to pump, to dream of flying, of flying up, up and away. Blue sky stretches down to lake’s far shore; where together they sandwich a distant green forest. Wonderful, miraculous, he laughs spontaneously. Waves ripple the water’s surface out in the lake’s middle, triggered by noon hour breezes.
He pumps the swing hard, energized, more and more like a flying angel with each launch into thin air. No longer allowed the effects of mood altering substances – not like Uncle Harry anymore – he has learned, out of necessity, other ways. An airborne experience
in this idyllic setting suits him just fine. Childish activity maybe, but wasn’t the Jesus guy a pal with the children?
He closes his eyes. Treasure in heaven or treasure in the bank. Treasure is wealth, no doubt. Sooo, why wouldn’t an ambitious person pursue the wealth of heaven, with all that potential payoff. Most can’t seem even to describe it exactly. Franco just flat out says no, Sid used to say no. Now a choice … one can chase after profits, or prophets ... maybe both. What did Jamie say about the Bible, shit, you can’t do both.
He has relationship with an AA Higher Power now, and no question, that has value. But it’s a value that pays off slowly, the benefit comes gradually, and the wonderment is hard to detect at all to start. As any investment, though, some funds pay out long term better than short. Investments focus on the future … just like Paul wrote Timothy. To live true life for its present day bonus, that’s short term investment. Like Sid’s last few years – far from perfect, anyone quitting drinking would say, but improved. Like annual interest in equities: some years good, some not so good, some years of loss. If one has ears to hear and eyes to see, why not invest in the treasure of heaven?
Reaching the swing’s apex, he begins true free-fall. He opens his eyes in suspended glory, sprawled, looking straight down. Without renting an airplane or parachute. In those part-second moments of pure weightlessness, he senses a different dimension, an ecstatic one, almost like heaven in this life or the next.
Chapter 5
“Your bid Nick.” Uncle Francis focuses on his Kaiser hand, having completed the moment’s chores.
“So you can’t bid any lower than six?” Andrew asks hesitantly, having been corralled into the late afternoon game.
“That’s right,” says Sid. “Six is the minimum bid, so nothing lower. But Uncle Francis already bid eight, so now it’s my bid and you have to beat the last bid or you can pass – so that’s nine or pass for me. Sooo…” he deliberates. “I will actually pass. Now it’s your bid, Andy. You can bid higher than Uncle Francis – remember he’s your partner – or you can pass too.”
The royal court emblems strut before Sid’s eyes, lost in their black and red procession; how many times has he played this game. He glances over his hand, at the next table, catching the eye of Amy’s husband drinking a slow beer with one brother-in-law. He spoke with Bryan briefly, not the most talkative guy, but what he says sure comes from the heart.