Keeping Faith: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

threateningly,
“what’s the point of a smell-related special effect in a visual medium like television?”
The man quails. “I don’t know, Mr.
Fletcher, but you–“
“But I what?”
“You wanted fire and brimstone, Ian.” The voice comes from the tangle of cameras and microphones just off to the left. “Don’t blame the fellow for your own mistakes.”
At the sound of the executive producer’s voice, Ian sighs and runs a hand through his thick, black hair. “You know, James, the only thing that makes me think there might be a higher power after all is the way you always manage to drop in at the absolute worst moment.”
“That’s not God, Ian, that’s Murphy’s Law.” James Wilton steps into the circle of sulfur and glances around. “Of course, if you rediscover religion, that would be one way to boost ratings.” He hands Ian a fax with the latest Nielsen numbers.
“Shoot,” Ian mutters. “I told you CBS wasn’t the way to go. We ought to reopen negotiations with HBO.”
“HBO isn’t going to come within ten feet of you if you keep ranking in the bottom third.”
James breaks off a piece of sulfur and holds it to his nose. “So this is brimstone,
eh? Guess I always kind of pictured it as a big black fireplace.”
Ian absentmindedly glances at the new set.
“Yeah, well. We’ll design a new one.”
“Oh?” James says dryly. “Should we pay for it with the huge bonus from your pending Nike endorsement? Or with the incoming grant from the Christian Coalition?”
Ian narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to be so cynical. You know that six months ago, when we did the specials, we got an incredible Nielsen share for the time slot.”
James walks from the set, leaving Ian to follow. “They were specials. Maybe that was the appeal. Maybe a weekly show loses its novelty.” He turns to Ian, his face grave. “I love what you do, Ian. But network executives have notoriously short attention spans. And I’ve got to bring them a winner.” Taking the fax from Ian’s hand, James crumples it into a ball. “I know it goes against your nature … but now would be a good time to start praying.”
Although he’d been asked by countless journalists,
Ian Fletcher refused to isolate the incidents in his life that made him stop believing in God.
In fact, not only did he admit to being born a nonbeliever, he made a living out of trying to convince the world that everyone was born a nonbeliever and that faith was something one was subtly schooled to accept–like cow’s milk, or potty training–because it was socially acceptable.
Religion, he argued, made a wonderful panacea. Ian’s offhand comparison of devout Catholics to toddlers who believed that a Band-Aid itself cures the wound was hotly debated in the op-ed pages of The New York Times, in Newsweek, and on Meet the Press. He asked why Jews were the Chosen People yet continued to be targeted for persecution.
He asked why Catholics were the only ones who ever saw the Virgin Mary in fountains and morning mists. He asked how there could be a God when innocent children got raped and maimed and killed. The more outspoken he became, the more people wanted to listen.
In 1997 his book, God Who?, spent twenty weeks at number one on The New York Times nonfiction bestseller list. He became a guest at Steven Spielberg’s home and was invited to sit in on White House round-table discussions and focus groups concerning a variety of cultural issues. That July a People magazine featuring Ian Fletcher on the cover sold out in twenty-four hours. A speech in Central Park drew more than a hundred thousand spectators. And in September 1998,
Ian Fletcher met with TV executives and became the world’s first teleatheist.
He formed a company–Pagan Productions–
borrowed cues from the Reverends Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell, and then put on a show.
Huge TV screens behind him played images of mass destruction–bombs, land mines, civil wars–while Ian’s stirring,