William McDermott

Genesis

I had a friend named Snyder Montgomery.  Snyder was an ordained minister with the intention of spreading hope and joy throughout America.  Or at least wherever he could.  One week, he brought me to the camp he worked at in the Adirondacks.  It was a nice place, very secluded, closed off to the rest of the world.
When we were 83% there, 12.24 miles left to go, he had pulled over and stopped the car.  He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "William," his voice was soft, so I turned down the music.
"Yes?" I impatiently replied after a short silence.
"William, I want you to tell me why you agreed to come with me on this trip," he had a very calming, almost paternal voice.
"I admire your devotion to your faith and the way you see other beliefs as valid, you seem to have a way with words that is very convincing," I chuckled nervously, he remained still with a slight smile printed on his face.
"Thank you, William."  He always used my name which I disliked coming from other people but it seemed natural for him.
He started the car again, and turned up the music.  "Fire and Rain" by James Taylor was playing.  Snyder had always loved this song for unexplained reasons.  He would listen to it on repeat, singing at the top of his lungs when we lived together in college, and he probably continued to do that for a while.  When he liked a song, he really liked the song.
When we arrived at the camp, he introduced me to a few people before we made our way towards the chapel.
It was a nice, camp-built, a-frame chapel with amazing acoustics.  In a crowd of noisy people, someone across the room could hear you drop a pin.  This is nice when you want your voice to be heard without the use of electronics, but not when you want to quiet down a room full of rambunctious children.
As Snyder stood before the congregation, he began, "We are gathered here this week in his holy, sacred camp to discuss the phrase 'it was good', We will begin with reading Genesis 1."  After he read a bit, he introduced Bill.  I was glad he was called Bill and I was William, I think I had even smiled to myself when he was introduced.  Bill was a staff member at the camp, he was probably in sustainability staff, I don't remember.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Bill announced.  He might've added "of the congregation" but I could never quite remember.  That was the thing I noticed about Bill, he had a forgettable charm about him.  In the moment, you felt entranced but afterwards you couldn't remember if he had said "of the congregation" or nothing at all.  "Ladies and Gentleman," he repeated after clearing his throat, "We must reassure ourselves that we are okay, we are going to be okay."  He brushed his fingers through his slick black hair. 
Everyone must've known what he was talking about, because they all nodded in agreement.  I remember whispering, "What?" under my breath.
"He's talking about global warming and terrorism, y'know, the problems in the world?" a lady who I later was introduced to as Diane, had whispered back in annoyance.
"We must reassure ourselves that if we do the best we can, nay, more than the best we can, we can renew the world, not to the way it was, but the way it must be,"  He sounded like he was trying to hold it all together, but he was really just as scared as everyone else.  Deep down, he must've been terrified for the world and how everything will turn out.
He spoke some more, I remember bits and pieces of him quoting Genesis and how God created the earth before us and told us to rule over it and, in that, we should protect it.
I then began to understand how and why some people use the bible.  They use it to teach people how to treat the earth, how to treat themselves.  Bill had used Genesis to remind people why God had supposedly created the world and humankind. 
After chapel, we went to the commissary for lunch.  Behind the serving counter, there were three people with two dishes each.  The dishes carried bread, lettuce, tomatoes, various sliced cheeses, various cold cuts, and a bowl of mayonnaise.  The woman holding the mayonnaise and cold cuts looked overtly disgusted.
Snyder chuckled after he caught me observing her expression.  "Her name is Charlisse, she's a vegan, that's why she looks so repulsed," I snickered at the irony.  They could've just as easily handed the meat and mayo to the man next to her.  He was wearing a shirt with bacon and eggs in the shape of the Avengers symbol.  Instead, he was given the tomatoes and cheese.
When it became my turn to construct my sandwich, I took one of everything.  Well, one of everything except for bread.
After lunch we went to the beach to hang out.  Snyder and I sat around the fireless fire pit with the lady from earlier, Diane, and her daughter Denise. 
Diane had Denise for the selfish and immoral reason of just wanting to have a child.  This might be mistaken for the loving reason of bringing life onto the earth and helping the world by raising a smart and adaptable child.  But no, she used Denise as a doll, like a barbie.  She had a child for her own amusement.  She kept her in the house all day, made her dress up and wear makeup.  I could only imagine what would happen if Denise had turned out to be gay or transgender all along.  I was almost scared for her. 
"She doesn't usually have time for this between dance and cheer and gymnastics, I'm surprised she's having fun at all," Diane would say to us, looking on at Denise playing with the other kids.
When Diane got up and left, Snyder and I looked at each other with amusement and fear.
"What did you think?" I asked Snyder.
"Denise will figure it out, she'll be out of the house in 8 years," he replied in a calm tone.
"What about when she's a teenager?  What if she goes through a rebellious phase?  What if she's gay?" I don't know why I asked him so many questions, I guess I was just worried about her.
"She'll figure it out," he smiled, and waved to someone across the beach.
The rest of the day was filled with what I could only describe as religious nonsense.  We went back and forth from the chapel to the cabin by the lake, singing psalms and hymns.  Snyder led a few, but told me that if I walked right behind him, I wouldn't get called out for keeping quiet. 
That was one thing I liked about Snyder.  If I didn't want to participate in something he wanted me to, he wouldn't force me to do the whole thing.  He would, however, make me at least come along with him.
I remember once he wanted me to go on a "Genesis Hike" with him and his buddies.  I had declined, but since he knew I liked to hike, he made me come along.  They had spent the trip running over and discussing the bible, almost like a book club.  I had stayed with Snyder, following closely behind the group.
He never excluded me either.  Even though I wasn't fully included, he would either stand next to me or ask me questions throughout conversations.  That's why I trusted him so much on this trip, I knew he would include me but respect my boundaries.
When it had gotten dark, we had a fire.  One of the much older men had picked up a guitar on the way over and started singing Willie Nelson songs, letting the fire act as his spotlight. 
It was a peaceful night.  One where if you sat still for long enough, you could feel like you were floating, or dreaming, or both.  Snyder told anecdotes about his childhood and friendships he's had throughout the years.  The old man playing guitar, who I learned later was named Lenny, seemed to only know Willie Nelson songs, which was something I couldn't complain about.
The people there were kind and easy to talk to, like dulled down versions of Snyder.  I decided then that if anything went wrong in my life, this would be the place to find peace and safety.