Our Children's Children

42

The Reverend Jake Billings was in conference with Ray MacDonald, formerly his assistant public relations manager, who had been appointed, within the last twelve hours, to the post of crusade operations chief.

"I really do not think, Ray," said the Reverend Billings, "that this business of crucifixion will advance our cause. It strikes me as being rather crude and it could backlash against us. As witness what one paper had to say of the attempt at Washington…"

"You mean someone has already gotten around to editorializing on it? I had not expected such prompt reaction."

"The reaction is not good," said the Reverend Billings, with some unaccustomed heat. "The editorial called it a cheap trick and a pantywaisted effort. The young man's arms, it turns out, were fastened to the crossbar with thongs — not nails, but thongs. The entire editorial, of course, is in a somewhat facetious vein, but nevertheless…"

"But they are wrong," MacDonald said.

"You mean that you used nails!"

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean that thongs were the way that it was done. The Romans ordinarily did not use nails…"

"You are trying to tell me that the Gospels erred?"

"No, I'm not trying to tell you that. What I am saying is that ordinarily — ordinarily, mind you, perhaps not always — the arms were tied, not nailed. We did some research on it and…"

"Your research is no concern of mine," said Billings icily.

"What I do care about is that you gave some smart-assed editorial writer the chance to poke fun at us. And even if that had not happened, I think the whole idea stinks. You didn't check with me. How come you didn't check with me?"

"You were busy, Jake. You told me to do my best. You told me I was the man who could come up with ideas and I did come up with ideas."

"I had this call from Steve Wilson," Billings said. "He chewed me out. There is no doubt that official Washington — the White House, at least — is solidly against us. When he gets around to it, Wilson will brand us as sensationalists. He brushed us off contemptuously in his press briefing this afternoon. That was before this silly crucifixion business. Next, time around, he'll blast us out of the water."

"But we have a lot of people with us. You go out to the countryside, to the little towns…"

"Yes, I know. The rednecks. They'll be for us, sure, but how long do you think it is before redneck opinion can have any significant impact? What about the influential pastors in the big city churches? Can you imagine what the Reverend Dr. Angus Windsor will tell his congregation and the newspapers and the world? He's the one who started all of this, but he'll not go along with solemn young men packing crosses through the street and getting crucified on a public square. For years I have tried to conduct my ministry with dignity and now it's been pulled down to the level of street brawling. I have you to thank for this and…"

"It's not too different," protested MacDonald, "from the stunts we've used before. Good old circus stuff. Good old show biz. It's what you built the business on."

"But with restraint."

"Not too much restraint. Skywriting and parades and miles of billboards…"

"Legitimate advertising," said Billings. "Honest advertising. A great American tradition. The mistake you made was to go out in the streets. You don't know about the streets. You ran up against the experts there. These Miocene kids know about the streets. They have been there, they have lived there. You had two strikes on you before you started out. What made you think you could compete with them?"

"All right, then, what shall we do? The streets are out, you say. So we pull off the streets. Then what do we do? How do we get attention?"

The Reverend Jake Billings stared at the wall with glassy eyes. "I don't know," he said. "I purely do not know. I don't think it makes much difference what we do. I think that gurgling noise you hear is our crusade going down the drain."