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"Two lovers," I commented. I didn't give the matter a great deal more attention, except that I liked the idea that we weren't totally alone.
A while later Tony nudged me. "Isn't this Heather with the guy over there? I can't be sure, but her hat looks familiar and the dress too. They are both quite unusual, don't you think?"
I looked up. "Yes, indeed, that's got to be Heather. But how on Earth...!" I practically jumped up to be noticed. I stood on the log and waved. The man saw us. He pointed to us. They stopped momentarily, then turned towards us.
I was more than glad to see Heather again. What a surprise! Strangely, Heather reacted as though we had never met. Her gesture was cold, like a wall of ice, but her tone of voice seemed to say that the ice wasn't real.
The man was most friendly. He asked where we came from and what we were doing. He couldn't help noticing our equipment by the log.
"We're camping on the bluff," explained Tony. "We've just finished building a trail to the beach."
The man seemed troubled by this. "You can't do that!" he interrupted Tony. "This is private property, haven't you seen the no-trespassing signs? Camping is forbidden here!"
"My friend is right," said Heather. "He is a priest. We have special permission to come here."
"I hate to say this, but you really ought to leave," said the priest seriously.
Tony shook his head. "After all that work! You have no idea what a chore it was building a trail down here." He began to laugh.
"Oh that too, you'd better get your tools out of here quickly," added the priest. "If the owner sees them, there is no telling what he will do. There will be war!"
"Don't worry," said Tony, grinning. "We are the owners of this land. Pete just bought the place: the beach, the hills, a hundred acres of it, all signed, sealed, and delivered, just a few weeks ago. There'll be no war."
"Of course, you're always welcome," said Sylvia. "Whatever privilege you had been given still stands.
The priest smiled and nodded.
"Since we're on the subject of war," I said to him, "what is your opinion as a priest about our chances of avoiding nuclear war in this time of an unfolding economic depression."
I expected this to come as a shock to him. But it didn't. He sat down on our log.
"So you know about it," he said. "It's a black, black situation, and getting worse."
"That's an odd answer for a priest," commented Tony.
"Yes, but I see nothing that gives reason for hope. Everybody is doing the exact opposite of what is right. And the damn church doesn't help either," he said angrily.
"How so?" asked Sylvia astonished.
"Prayer!"
"What's wrong with prayer?" Sylvia asked.
"It's used as a tranquilizer to put people to sleep. Our country would still have a chance if we mobilized all the resources we have within us. But we don't do it. We just fold our hands and pray. We're putting ourselves to sleep with these endless petitions to God, which in themselves add up to a total denial of our own inner resources as human beings. And this denial runs deep. It has so distorted the identity of our humanity that we are no longer aware of our own inherent strength and vitality. We are sitting back, just as I said, with our hands folded, waiting for the holocaust to happen, or to blow away with the wind, or for God to cause a great miracle and change the world for us that we've messed up. We should be out fighting to stop the destruction that is going on! The mess that we created is our mess alone, not God's mess."
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