Stunning

Although he was unlike the majority of the people he was exposed to, he wasn’t disturbed or gloomy. Existing as an unusual being pleased him to some extent; the vast variations between his life and the life of others only promised the presence of innovation in the hand that had created him. Because of this necessary innovation Aiden did not let the identity of this hand’s owner puzzle or bewilder him; he didn’t care much about the technicalities of the divine. Many might view this as a mentality lacking religious belief, but he believed in a supreme deity, he simply didn’t care about the ethos or the culture or the demands that surrounded it, whoever he or she was. He had yet to worry about being stricken or smitten or incapacitated because of his apathy towards religious conviction; certainly an all-powerful being capable of forming an earth such as the one upon which Aiden walked had better things to do than make sure his or her followers attended church and told the truth and so on and so forth. If such a being truly had nothing better to do why would he want to labor towards worthiness to enter into this being’s presence when it didn’t endeavor to utilize its supremacy to the fullest extent?

3 months after moving into his apartment he had attempted to explain this belief to his neighbor Mrs. Wright, and the woman had smacked him for it. Sitting at the bus stop, he smiled to think about the incident. The episode hadn’t really amused him, but he was tickled by the fact that he had actually been slapped for vocalizing that he saw no need to sit down and define God when he had a full time job. Upon stating this he looked Mrs. Wright straight in the eyes and waited for a response. He was quite taken back when it came in the form of a slap across the face.

“Why Mrs. Wright, I understand our opinions differ, but I see no need-“

“For anything at all, apparently.” She had snapped back at him. “I told Suzie, I told her it would come to this. First they let Catholics work at the plant and now they’ve hired an atheist. To think that Suzie’s very own husband owns it! His taste in employees never did impress me but this is quite shocking to say the very least.”

Surprised at her anger, he replied: “I’m not an atheist, Mrs. Wright. I believe in a deity, just a different one than you do. At least I think they’re different, I honestly don’t know. I simply don’t concern myself with it, you see, I don’t see a reason to.”

“What blasphemy. You believe in God, you just don’t see a reason to concern yourself with him?”

“Well,” he said, slightly annoyed, “no, I don’t.”

After casting him a dark look she rolled her eyes and rolled up her shirt sleeves.

“I s’pose we’ll just have to agree to disagree. I’ve got company at seven and the bathroom needs a scrubbing. Hurry down to your apartment, Mr. Jeduce, and don’t you be talking to my kids about your abstract rubbish. It’s hard enough to raise a child properly without the atheists tryin’ to convert ‘em.”

This had been the first and last note-worthy encounter with Mrs. Wright. Carefully distancing herself and her family from him, she found ways to bump into him only when convenient or necessary. Aiden was perfectly fine with this; he found ways to bump into her only when it was physical impossible to do otherwise. Generally he saw her once a week; Aiden had thought and pondered and tried extremely hard to summon up an evasion technique with which he would avoid her completely, but to no avail. Every Friday the woman took it upon herself to water the flowers she placed in the hallway, and encountered him every week as he walked out his front door to saunter down to the bus stop. Her thin lips would pull into a polite sneer, spreading apart to talk so little that one could barely believe that it was her who was indeed speaking. She would tilt her head up ever so slightly and raise her eyebrows as high as humanly possible, transforming her face into one that reminded any other individual of superciliousness and pomposity that was sprinkled here and there with the faintest tint of obliviousness and pampered confusion. She would force out a “How do ya do, Mr. Jeduce?” or and occasional “Why Mr. Jeduce, it’s been a while. Not tryin’ to disappear, are we?”. Aiden would nod and respond quietly, every time, with: “Mrs. Wright, it’s very nice to see you. The flowers are beautiful.” Mrs. Wright never thanked him for this compliment, although he uttered it every week without fail. Quite on the contrary, Aiden always found her reaction to be aggravated. Squinting her eyes, she would tilt her head to the left and offer a final, slower nod, every week.

Silence left Aiden with a copious amount of time with which to think. Because of this a pensive and relentlessly meditative demeanor developed and had begun to define the boy to those who surrounded him. His coworkers christened him “the dreamer”, smirking every time he passed. Aiden was much too harmless a creature to stumble upon cruel treatment from these people, yet they remained too perplexed and bothered by his curious character to find him endearing in any sense. Noiseless yet sharp, Aiden was quick to respond in his muted voice, though he on no account ever made an attempt to initiate a conversation or topic. This made any dialogue held with him an awkward one; his gaze was one people squirmed under, one that fashioned any type of communication in such a way that it existed solely to end.