I don't know anything

“So, okay, I was 14.

“It started with, um . . . maybe it was a dream . . . something like a baby about to be born. I just . . . I remember this feeling of being swayed around in warm, peaceful darkness.

“Or, no, I think it was cool, not warm.

“But then my eyes squinted open, and I got real startled to . . . to see the sky and realize I was outside. There was this bad stinging like a slice or stab at the back of my head, especially when I moved to sit up. But… I mean, there’s no way to even tell you how shocked I felt to find myself sitting near the edge of a small, wooden raft, surrounded by so many others . . . way too many for such a tiny boat.

“For a long time, everyone was quiet. And I didn’t say anything either. I thought maybe none of us had any idea what was going on, like we’d all just woken up or whatever the same way. The ocean in every direction looked totally still. It seemed like we were just drifting in place on flat, clear glass . . . endless.

“Then these two people next to me started talking in a hushed sort of whisper. But I could hear them pretty well. One goes, ‘This boat is our provision from on high!’

“The other’s, like, ‘Yes! We escaped the sinking ship, for we’re being brought from glory to glory!’

“The first comes back with, ‘Why would God give us this provision if we were destined to drown?!’

“And the other agrees, ‘Amen!’

“So, I knew we must have come from a ship. But I wondered why the life raft would be so, y’know, old-fashioned and made of wood. I still had no memory of traveling anywhere, or of a crash, or anything.

“But then I got, like, fully blown away to recognize two people from The Church, a mother and son named Carmen and Vin. And the funny thing is the three of us would end up working there together later.

“But yeah, for sure I didn’t know anyone else.

“Anyway, after not much time, Carmen started making these really loud pronouncements . . . though her tone stayed steady and formal, kind of like a news reporter reading off a screen . . . warning everyone the raft was slowly filling up with water. And it was true. We could see it trickling in over the edges.

“Before long, Vin, her son, got this weird look on his face . . . all serious . . . and started shouting how the rate the boat was filling meant it would sink before the standard rescue time. He didn’t give any details but just kept repeating the same thing in different ways.

“This went on for a few minutes until it was like their two voices merged, and then both were insisting one person on the raft would have to be thrown over the side to save the rest.

“Honestly, my head felt like someone had just pried a nail out of the back. But I kind of winced through the pain and moved up to a crouch, then stumbled forward toward Vin. I was fuzzy, but I wanted to ask about his calculation or whatever . . . like, what he’d meant by ‘standard rescue time,’ and how he’d figured it out so quickly. I mean, we were both kids, y’know? Vin would have been maybe 11 or 12.

“But before I could talk, he raised his voice even higher than it had been and questioned my loyalty to everyone on the raft.

“Carmen laughed a little and urged me not to worry. She announced her son was at the top of all his classes, and on his way to becoming an engineer when he grew up, so he would know.

“No, you don’t need to write this down.

“Sorry, it’s just . . . it’s so obvious to me now, looking back. I never saw the connection before, but… You see, Carmen and Vin’s family had been leaders in The Church for . . . well, since before The City formed, so definitely a long time. For generations. And later on, working with them, it’s like they both always had to be so sure of themselves in everything, no matter what, y’know?

“I think when it comes to New Cannibalism . . . how it’s all based in fear . . . well, anyone that wants to be in charge, that’s trying to move up . . . anyone in ‘the middle’ . . . knows they could be replaced at any time by those above. And that’s a scary feeling to have to live with, right?

“I don’t think Carmen and Vin wanted to hurt anyone. I mean, I’m sure they didn’t. I think it’s more they backed themselves into it without even…

“Sorry, please don’t write that last part. I don’t want this to sound bad.

“Back in the days of Friendship, The Pastor would paint these beautiful pictures each week with his words . . . pictures of another world to come. It was supposed to be a world filled with the exact same sweetness and love that connected everyone in The Church’s walls hidden together from so many crushing powers and sets of snapping teeth outside. And back then, The Pastor said no one’s levels or titles in this world would even matter in the next. So being lowly and kind could be considered noble . . . even insightful . . . since it meant you were able to look beyond your pain to a future when everything would be made right.

“But in The City, The Church became its own empire, like I said. And you just can’t do things like apologize or show weakness by second guessing yourself if you want to move up in an empire.

“It’s like The Pastor’s words never changed, but their meaning . . . um… Instead of a shared hope for a life to come after being caught and killed, the other world became more, like, a reward for staying a slave . . . I mean a slave to The Church to help it keep growing in The City. But Advertising only ever celebrates the powerful. So everywhere in The City, people are always driven to think they should want to rise as high as they can. Some succeed, and others fail or give up. But as far as The Church is concerned, you might as well mash your teeth into the concrete if you’re a slave who doesn’t believe in the other world to justify your position.

“When you think about it, The City just came from generations who thought they couldn’t survive without having deals where lives got sacrificed. Then later generations were convinced some were meant to rise up and share in their empire’s wealth and power, where most would have to stay lowly, and quiet, and happy to be its fuel. The irony is…

“I see a . . . a fog that’s…

“Sorry, you don’t have to write any of that.

“So, there was an atheist with us on the raft. To me, I’d say he seemed like just a really likeable, funny guy. Not rude or anything. But someone happened to bring up The Church, and the atheist mentioned he didn’t go. When asked why, he said he’d once believed The Pastor’s message about the coming other world, but didn’t think he believed it anymore.

“Everyone got real quiet. Then, all of a sudden, the conversation sort of erupted back out of nowhere, and… Well, now it was only on whether or not the atheist should be the one killed. I guess everyone agreed with Vin and Carmen that someone would have to die to save the rest.

“One lady asked why they should even put up with the atheist in their presence at all, using up their resources.

“Another kept calling the atheist an “anti-newcannibalist,” though the atheist had already said he’d moved to The City to become successful, and that he even admired The Church’s position.

“Vin treated the atheist’s words like meaningless noise to be ignored and drowned out.

“A few suggested maybe another on the raft should step up to take the atheist’s place. That way, they claimed, the atheist might stay alive long enough to believe again.

“Many argued the atheist’s contrary spirit was a bad, corrupting influence, and insisted he be thrown out right away. I mean, they were, like, furious it wasn’t happening already.

“Someone mentioned sacred writings comparing believers and non-believers to light and dark, having nothing in common.

“Another remembered a passage that states if someone doesn’t accept the message, that person must be turned away at the door.

“Then this guy next to me brought up an even older part . . . a story about a man who gets thrown overboard from a ship during a storm, and how God sends that rebellious person into the belly of a giant fish to keep him safe so he can turn and change his ways. Somehow this idea made everyone on the raft stop talking. And after another quiet moment, all agreed, one by one, it would probably be best to throw the atheist over the side so he might believe again like he had before. Carmen even recited The Pastor’s own words about the storms of life often serving as the means God uses to bring a wayward believer back to Faith.

“But I just couldn’t believe it . . . any of it . . . how all those sensible-looking people could be so…

“I finally stood up and tried to argue something like, ‘Are we really talking about letting someone die? How can we decide what’s…? I mean, don’t we also read that showing love, even to our enemies, is the sum total of all we’re meant to do?! Aren’t we told to imitate God, who makes the sun shine on both the evil and the good?’

“But they all talked over me and outvoted me without ever voting.

“Carmen started yelling about standing against the devil and his powers. Most of the others echoed her words and enthusiasm.

“I kept trying to find a way to show how unfair the whole thing seemed. But it was like they’d all blocked their ears from hearing.

“Did I sacrifice myself? Well, I was young. But that’s just an excuse, y’know? I didn’t even think of it at the time. Now, every day, I wish I’d…

“I’ll never forget the last words I heard that atheist say. I mean, it was like he looked right at me, and was just: ‘Well, if it’s you or me, and they pick me…’

“Once the others all crowded in to hold the atheist in place, I couldn’t see him anymore. Then one after another, they started firing questions at him about whether he’d believe The Pastor’s message again before he died. I didn’t hear him respond. I did catch a glimpse of his face when he was pulled forward and then wrenched up to be thrown over . . . and it was like I could literally hear him pleading without words something close to: ‘I don’t know if I believe or not. Hey, I would if I could!’

“The atheist stayed floating near us until that night, almost completely silent in the dead calm of the ocean.

“The next morning, he was gone.”