Crab Cakes

"Oh, so… you're religious?"

"I am. Well, most days, yes," Mina said.

Charles laughed. "Wait. What do you mean 'most days'?"

"I dunno. Most days I am religious, Christian, but occasionally there are days where I don't feel like I am."

"Do you still go to church?"

"Pretty regularly, yes."

"Interesting," he said. "But you don't always believe your own religion?"

"I want to, but it can be difficult at times. I guess if I'm being honest, no, I don't always believe it."

"Maybe I shouldn't have asked. I mean, we just met. Shouldn't I ask you what your favorite color is before we start talking about religion?"

Mina laughed, "Well, it's red. And lucky for you I enjoy talking about religion."

Charles exhaled. "Well, I like blue." He paused. "It's just that… I don't think I've ever heard anyone—"

"Good evening, you two! My name is Eduardo and I will be taking care of you this evening. Can I get you two started with something to drink?"

"Oh, um, do you know what you want?" Charles said to Mina.

"I'll have water for now."

"Same for me," Charles said.

"Alrighty. I'll be right back with those."

"Thanks."

"Thank you!"

"It's just that… I've never heard anyone put it that way before," Charles said. "You know… that some days you believe all of that stuff and some days you don't."

"I take it you aren't religious?"

"No. Not anymore. I mean, I grew up going to Mass but I don't have any use for it these days."

"I get it. There are a lot of people who feel that way."

"I remember going to confession one time as a teenager. I mean, I had been a few times before at that point, and it was always a little uncomfortable for me, but I confessed a few things, normal teenage boy things… wow, this is weird to talk about on a first date," he said, his words echoed by nervous laughter.

She also laughed. "You're fine! I'm listening."

"But I also confessed to smoking a cigarette. I wasn't even sure if that was a sin. I figured maybe it was since I wasn't eighteen at the time. Either way I didn't think it was that big of a deal. But I remember my priest made me feel so bad about it. All of it, really. It felt as if I had personally offended him somehow."

"What did he say?"

"I don't remember. He didn't raise his voice, but he was so condescending. I don't even remember what my punishment, my penance, was. I just remember how I felt. When I left confession I—"

"Alrighty, you two. Here's a water for you, and—pardon my reach—one for you. Can I get you anything else to drink? Any appetizers?"

"Oh, I heard the crab cakes here were delicious. Do you like crab cakes?"

"I do!"

"We'll have the crab cakes, please. And I think I'd like an Old Fashioned. I sure could use it!"

"No problem! And for you, ma'am?"

"I'll have a Pinot Noir. House is fine."

"Alrighty! I'll be back with those in a few minutes."

"Thank you," Mina said.

"Thank you," Charles said.

"Did he just call me ma'am?" she whispered.

Charles laughed. "He did! Is that weird? It's a Southern thing! He meant well."

"Wow. People don't say that up north," Mina said. "But that was actually… charming?"

They laughed.

"I think that was the goal."

Charles took a sip of his water before continuing. "Anyways, I don't know. It's stupid. I just remember feeling like the worst person on earth that day. And what did God think of me? All this talk about grace and forgiveness, it felt like it wasn't actually for me, you know? I hope I'm making sense."

"I think you're making perfect sense, and I get it," Mina agreed.

"Things changed after that. I still went to church because I had to, and I still went to confession a couple more times, though I was less truthful than I'd been before, but I started to think about everything I had learned and how little sense it made. Noah's ark, Jonah and the whale… I just stopped believing those stories. I thought about Jesus being both God and man. How can that be? How did he rise from the dead? That's not possible, and it seems so silly to pretend that it is. I'm sorry. Don't let me offend you."

"Oh, I'm not offended. I think all of that is valid, and to be honest, I have a lot of those same questions."

"I mean, how many of these miracles, like, I don't know, Jesus walking on water, could be attributed to the fact that these are all aging men with aging eyeballs before eyeglasses were invented?!"

They both laughed.

"That's a good point. I never thought of that!"

"So, I have to ask, how are you religious 'most days,' to use your words, if you have so many of the same questions?"

Mina sighed. "I was afraid you'd ask that."

"I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want."

"No, it's fine! I don't mind, it's just that… I'm honestly not sure I have a great answer for you. I also grew up Catholic, went to mass every Sunday, went to confession, and it was all I ever knew. I was always there, and for most of my childhood I really did enjoy it. I found much of it beautiful, and my friends were there. Church was kind of, I don't know… fun? Is that weird?"

"Can't relate to that, but I'm happy for you!" They both laughed.

"But right around the end of high school, my mother got sick. She was beautiful, and she was a singer. She would sing hymns in church from time to time, and I loved it when she did. She had black curly hair, just like mine. She cared for me. She took prescription pills, benzos, Klonopin, to be exact. They were prescribed by her doctor. She always struggled with insomnia, and I think he gave them to her for sleep. They worked, and she took them for a long time. Fifteen years or something. Anyways, one day, out of nowhere, she began to have a terrible reaction to them. It was as if they stopped working, or as if her body couldn't get enough of them, and she'd have these terrifying panic attacks. Her hands would shake, she'd hardly be able to breathe, and she wouldn't be able to speak clearly. It was almost as if she was possessed or something. It was genuinely—"

"Alrighty, I've got those crab cakes for you right here, and I've got your Old Fashioned and your—pardon my reach again, ma'am—Pinot Noir right here."

"Oh, uh, thank you," Mina said.

"Yes, thank you. This all looks delicious."

"Have you two had a chance to look over the menu yet?" Eduardo asked.

"I actually haven't. Do you know what you want?" Charles asked Mina.

"I still need a few more minutes, I think."

"Alrighty! Take your time. I'll be back in a few." Eduardo left them.

Charles was eager to hear the rest of what she had to say. He looked down at her hands, wrapped around the stem of her wine glass. His eyes moved up and met hers.

"You were saying…"

"Right, I was saying that these withdrawals, these panic attacks, were genuinely terrifying. Nobody knew what to do about them. The doctors tried to slowly wean her off of the medication, to lower her dosage little by little, but things only got worse. Much worse. She was in and out of the emergency room all the time. She was suicidal. She tried countless mental health and rehab facilities, but no one could help. It never eased up. There were no good days. Just a constant state of panic and withdrawal. And nobody could figure out what to do."

Charles leaned forward. "So, what ended up happening?"

"Well, she was like this for about ten years—"

"Ten years?!"

"Yes, crazy, I know. She fought hard. She fought so damn hard." Mina took a deep breath and swirled her wine around in her glass. "But she took her own life. With a gun. She just couldn't take it anymore."

"Oh wow. Mina, I am so sorry."

"She wanted to be there for me. She wanted to be the mother that she always had been for me. She wanted to be a grandmother. In a way, it felt like she died ten years earlier, you know, when all of this first started. From that point on, she was never the same again."

The crab cakes sat there, getting cold. There was a brief moment where neither of them knew what to say. For the first time that evening, it felt like a first date.

"I'm impressed that you're religious at all after that," Charles said.

"We had faith that she would one day get through all of this," Mina continued. "We prayed hard. She prayed hard. I don't think any of us ever believed that she would lose this battle. I remember when I would go to be with her, just to attempt to comfort her, even when I had no idea what I needed to do or say, I would pray for peace, for a sort of exorcism. I would pray for wisdom, for the right words to say, or whether or not I needed to say anything at all. I remember her crying out, screaming, in tears, right in front of me, begging God for mercy. This happened so often, and I can remember feeling that it was impossible to cry out like that to a God that didn't exist. I always assumed that God would fix this, and that our faith would carry us through to the other side of this pain. But it didn't. He didn't. I never really questioned my faith until she passed away, until after all of this ended. But I started to ask the same questions that everyone asks: Why did she suffer? Why did this happen? Why didn't God heal her? Everything I grew up learning and hearing in church, was it actually true? Surely he could have healed her, right?"

Charles was quiet for a moment. He picked at the crab cakes with his fork before breaking off a small bite. He washed it down with a sip of his Old Fashioned.

"That's the impression I always got. It always bothered me that God would allow such terrible things to happen in this world. I know these questions aren't new, but they are real. How can a God deserving of my worship allow someone to die in a freak car accident, or one of his priests to cause someone so much pain, or you to go through what you did? I could never find an answer to this."

"I don't have an answer for it either."

"But you're still there! Surely you have an answer for this, or at least some way to justify it all. I left church for reasons far more trivial than what you went through, yet you still believe. I can't get my head around that."

"But I don't think your reasons are trivial at all. You were hurt. Like I said, I agree that very little of this makes sense. I understand that I don't make sense."

"You really can't tell me what it is that keeps you coming back?"

Mina looked down into her wine glass. Her hands gently shook as she raised it to her mouth and took a sip.

"I truly don't think I—"

"Alrighty folks, what can I get you tonight?"

Charles and Mina looked at each other, and then Charles turned and looked at Eduardo.

"Actually, can we just get a check for the drinks and appetizer?"

"Absolutely! I'll bring that right over," Eduardo said as he headed toward the register.

"Let's go somewhere else to talk."

"I'd love that."