Pride House: The Quest for Vainglory by Rob Summers
Chapter 34 The Chance Meeting with Fame
After Worry and Selfishness were exposed as Mr. Power’s agents, Pride felt more assurance that he had done the right thing in defecting. Still, he was often restless, and he troubled himself with daydreams about Vainglory.
Some days he drove downtown and roved about making small purchases and talking with old friends, friends who knew little about the revolution which had taken place in his home. He usually made only casual mention of changes in his life and that in such a way as to suggest that it was merely his intellectual fashion for the moment. By cautious trial and error he learned that he might go so far as to call himself a Christian without threat to his rapport with unconverted friends. However, he must not get too specific. To express belief in the miracles in the Bible was to risk strained silences and embarrassed smiles. Pride could not endure that.
Above all he learned that he must make no mention of his subservient status in his own home. On the few occasions when he had done so, his friends had behaved toward him as healthy folk do toward a man who admits to some debilitating mental illness; that is, they gallantly tried to treat him as they would anyone else, but failed. Nothing could restore any enthusiasm or naturalness to their conversations with him. They could not help but exchange meaningful glances with each other. They found him all the more pathetic because they had known him in the days when he had owned himself. Yes, they wanted to help. They suggested diversions.
So Pride said little or nothing about the New Order at what had become Grace House, until the day when he ran into Fame at a restaurant. He found her sitting, as if waiting for him, at the very table he often frequented, her flaming hair spread over her shoulders, her eyes bright. When she invited him to join her, he fell to talking with her nervously; but after an hour, they were as chummy as if the scene at Cruel’s had never happened.
Pride wanted to tell her all about his conversion from the world, because he wished her to enter the circle at Grace House. He had repented, why not she? How wonderful if he could have the peace and serenity of Heavenly government, and Fame as well. He told her with tears about the night Grace and the Heavenly King had entered his house.
“How wonderful for you,” she said.
He talked about his life since: his freedom from Pain, the annulment of his marriage, his new found interest in masonry work.
She nodded. “I understand,” she said.
“You do?”
“Why, Pride,” she briefly pressed his shoulder, “God is very real to me. I could never have made it through the hard times without Him. I think of Him as my best friend and talk to Him all the time.”
“You mean you pray?”
“Well, it’s more like a running conversation from time to time during the day. Pride, I want you to understand that I’m a Christian too, only a slightly different kind. But we believe the same things.”
Pride thought this over. “Do you know old Grace?” he asked.
“Grace? I hear about him from Pastor Hypocrisy. They’re very close, you see, so Hypocrisy explains to the flock all we need to know about Grace. It’s true I haven’t always been faithful about church attendance, but the Pastor sends me weekly videotapes of his sermons and I watch them sometimes in the evenings. I just love his preaching; he leaves you with such a warm feeling.”
Pride felt their talk had drifted rather far from the clear-cut invitation to conversion he had intended. Fame was airing the same sort of silly opinions he himself had held just a few months before.
He said, “But—you see—I actually know Grace personally. He lives in my house. That makes a difference.”
“I think the man you know calls himself Grace,” she said carefully, “and in some sense he is, but let’s not be narrow. God’s Grace isn’t for some people and not for others; he isn’t local—just in your house and not in mine. Real Grace is everywhere and for everyone, right?”
She was so lovely and gave him such total attention.
“Well, of course, but I only mean that the Bible tells about some people not—not taking advantage of what’s offered, and such people don’t go to Heaven.”
She laughed. “You don’t believe in Hell, do you, Pride?”
“Well, that’s the subject, now you mention it, I’ve had the most trouble with. It’s just that the authority who, uh, tells us about Hell, is the same that told us about Heaven; so surely you must see the logical difficulty in throwing out one and keeping the other?”
She looked at him blankly. “I see no difficulty at all in eliminating frightening nonsense and preserving an elevated, spiritualized faith. But I really think that you would love discussing these types of things with Pastor Hypocrisy. He always has time for counseling, and he’d be glad to see you. I’m going to be seeing him tomorrow evening about a personal appearance I’m supposed to make on his TV program. Why don’t you come along?”
When this was agreed, Fame made ready to leave. Pride followed her to the sidewalk, where they stood facing each other for an awkward moment.
Pride spoke suddenly. “Fame, do you know something? I love you. You mean so much to me. I guess you don’t feel the same way I do.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” she said, smiling and unreflective. “I love you, Pride, but is it the real thing? And maybe I don’t allow myself feelings like that because in the back of my mind I know that I’m going to spend at least two more years on my career before settling down with anyone. A lot can happen in two years—meeting other people.”
Pride felt a deep gloom taking hold of him.
“But we’ll see, won’t we? I really must go now. I’m almost late for a tennis date with an old friend of mine and he’s the impatient sort. Don’t forget to meet me at the church.”
After Worry and Selfishness were exposed as Mr. Power’s agents, Pride felt more assurance that he had done the right thing in defecting. Still, he was often restless, and he troubled himself with daydreams about Vainglory.
Some days he drove downtown and roved about making small purchases and talking with old friends, friends who knew little about the revolution which had taken place in his home. He usually made only casual mention of changes in his life and that in such a way as to suggest that it was merely his intellectual fashion for the moment. By cautious trial and error he learned that he might go so far as to call himself a Christian without threat to his rapport with unconverted friends. However, he must not get too specific. To express belief in the miracles in the Bible was to risk strained silences and embarrassed smiles. Pride could not endure that.
Above all he learned that he must make no mention of his subservient status in his own home. On the few occasions when he had done so, his friends had behaved toward him as healthy folk do toward a man who admits to some debilitating mental illness; that is, they gallantly tried to treat him as they would anyone else, but failed. Nothing could restore any enthusiasm or naturalness to their conversations with him. They could not help but exchange meaningful glances with each other. They found him all the more pathetic because they had known him in the days when he had owned himself. Yes, they wanted to help. They suggested diversions.
So Pride said little or nothing about the New Order at what had become Grace House, until the day when he ran into Fame at a restaurant. He found her sitting, as if waiting for him, at the very table he often frequented, her flaming hair spread over her shoulders, her eyes bright. When she invited him to join her, he fell to talking with her nervously; but after an hour, they were as chummy as if the scene at Cruel’s had never happened.
Pride wanted to tell her all about his conversion from the world, because he wished her to enter the circle at Grace House. He had repented, why not she? How wonderful if he could have the peace and serenity of Heavenly government, and Fame as well. He told her with tears about the night Grace and the Heavenly King had entered his house.
“How wonderful for you,” she said.
He talked about his life since: his freedom from Pain, the annulment of his marriage, his new found interest in masonry work.
She nodded. “I understand,” she said.
“You do?”
“Why, Pride,” she briefly pressed his shoulder, “God is very real to me. I could never have made it through the hard times without Him. I think of Him as my best friend and talk to Him all the time.”
“You mean you pray?”
“Well, it’s more like a running conversation from time to time during the day. Pride, I want you to understand that I’m a Christian too, only a slightly different kind. But we believe the same things.”
Pride thought this over. “Do you know old Grace?” he asked.
“Grace? I hear about him from Pastor Hypocrisy. They’re very close, you see, so Hypocrisy explains to the flock all we need to know about Grace. It’s true I haven’t always been faithful about church attendance, but the Pastor sends me weekly videotapes of his sermons and I watch them sometimes in the evenings. I just love his preaching; he leaves you with such a warm feeling.”
Pride felt their talk had drifted rather far from the clear-cut invitation to conversion he had intended. Fame was airing the same sort of silly opinions he himself had held just a few months before.
He said, “But—you see—I actually know Grace personally. He lives in my house. That makes a difference.”
“I think the man you know calls himself Grace,” she said carefully, “and in some sense he is, but let’s not be narrow. God’s Grace isn’t for some people and not for others; he isn’t local—just in your house and not in mine. Real Grace is everywhere and for everyone, right?”
She was so lovely and gave him such total attention.
“Well, of course, but I only mean that the Bible tells about some people not—not taking advantage of what’s offered, and such people don’t go to Heaven.”
She laughed. “You don’t believe in Hell, do you, Pride?”
“Well, that’s the subject, now you mention it, I’ve had the most trouble with. It’s just that the authority who, uh, tells us about Hell, is the same that told us about Heaven; so surely you must see the logical difficulty in throwing out one and keeping the other?”
She looked at him blankly. “I see no difficulty at all in eliminating frightening nonsense and preserving an elevated, spiritualized faith. But I really think that you would love discussing these types of things with Pastor Hypocrisy. He always has time for counseling, and he’d be glad to see you. I’m going to be seeing him tomorrow evening about a personal appearance I’m supposed to make on his TV program. Why don’t you come along?”
When this was agreed, Fame made ready to leave. Pride followed her to the sidewalk, where they stood facing each other for an awkward moment.
Pride spoke suddenly. “Fame, do you know something? I love you. You mean so much to me. I guess you don’t feel the same way I do.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” she said, smiling and unreflective. “I love you, Pride, but is it the real thing? And maybe I don’t allow myself feelings like that because in the back of my mind I know that I’m going to spend at least two more years on my career before settling down with anyone. A lot can happen in two years—meeting other people.”
Pride felt a deep gloom taking hold of him.
“But we’ll see, won’t we? I really must go now. I’m almost late for a tennis date with an old friend of mine and he’s the impatient sort. Don’t forget to meet me at the church.”