Logan had plenty of reason to doubt that any of the ones that he was aware of had full dominion, based upon the fruits of their histories and efforts. He also had never personally experienced a miracle, had never seen a spirit, and nor had anyone else that he knew.
There was also the troubling notion that the things that his religiously oriented parents, and similar friends of theirs, prayed for fervently never seemed to come to pass, some becoming far worse in many cases. In contrast, the things desired by many non-religious individuals that Logan knew had come to fruition, often with ease and abundance.
Logan was certainly not the person to ask regarding his opinions on the power of prayer.
Over time, he had seen more than enough evidence to convince him that mankind was very astute at intricate fabrications and deceptions.
With all of his heart, just for once, he wanted to see and experience something absolutely undeniable with his own eyes. No third party accounts, not even eyewitness accounts, would be acceptable substitutes for his desired experience.
Then, and only then, he might find something to put his faith into. If that day ever happened, he knew that he could finally let loose of many inhibitions and misgivings, and pour his heart and soul into a faith, and gladly leave his dissatisfying agnosticism far behind.
Maybe someday it would happen.
Maybe it would not.
He was not going to hold his breath while waiting.
Looking down at his watch, he saw that he still had almost an hour to go before night arrived. Time would soon become a blur again as he hurled himself into his projects and submitted the visionary to the mundane as best as he could.
As always, it was clients before creativity.
It was not a pleasant course of action, but it did bring in an income.
RYAN
Ryan and Antoine jogged across the main street, heading towards the heart of the city as the shifting hues of sunset crossed into the uniformity of night.
Artificial light and sprawling shadows settled across the reawakening streets. The lull between the rush hour and the nightlife was over, and traffic was just starting to pick up again.
It would still be a few more hours before the city curfew took effect, nothing but a minor nuisance to the two street-honed teenagers.
Ryan had recently set his affections towards a young lady of his age named Pamela, who lived a couple of blocks over from his small, crowded home. To his view, the relationship was proceeding nicely, though he hoped that she would shake off some other guys that she was seeing and commit fully to him.
Relationships with attractive females were not the only matters occupying his mind.
Ryan was becoming more than a little nervous about Antoine during the course of recent weeks. Antoine had been acquiring some additional revenue through some drug trafficking on the streets. At first, he had started dealing in order to keep himself supplied with his favorite pills. The money and pills had brought him more attention from women in their peer group, and several that were older. Antoine was increasingly becoming absorbed in the attention that he was receiving. Ryan feared that Antoine was beginning to get overconfident and careless.
Ryan knew well enough that Antoine was not on the higher levels of the business that enjoyed both friendship and economic influence with elements of law enforcement. Antoine was on the low level, a group whose members were readily expendable. From their number came the overwhelming bulk of the periodic drug busts and accompanying roundups that were portrayed so vividly in the media.
Ryan feared for his friend’s growing recklessness, knowing that he was well within the target range of one of those kinds of roundups. Yet he could not dissuade him from his newfound lifestyle.
“So, what’s up with you and Pamela?” Antoine remarked, as they turned off the main street and started down towards the north side of town.
“Not long, Antoine… not much longer,” Ryan retorted, a mischievous glint reflecting in his eyes. “She’s getting close to being with me twenty-four-seven.”
“I wouldn’t let a girl even look like she was playin’ around with me. But I don’t blame you with her. She looks so fine,” Antoine complimented, smiling broadly.
“She sure does,” Ryan replied, exhibiting his boyish grin.
His friendly face and relatively lanky build had prevented him from ever developing an aura of intimidation.
Several unfortunate youths had, over the course of his life, found out intimately that his seemingly benign image did not represent the underlying substance. A scrappy youth with a penchant for mixed martial arts, he had a nearly fatalistic aptitude to take on any challengers.
The disposition had gotten him into a lot of trouble, when he had rendered his mother’s live-in boyfriend unconscious after the man had started a drunken spree of violence upon her one night. Instead of being branded a hero, Ryan had been promptly placed into the juvenile detention center. His mother had been lukewarm to him, pulled between his intervention and the strange dependency that she had developed with her abusive boyfriend.
Ryan’s pattern had not changed during his period of incarceration. There, he had gotten into several scrapes with some of the others being held there, and had even assaulted one of the security guards.
It had all started a downward spiral.
Soon he was disrupting his classes at school, which had gotten him placed in the city’s special education facility. There, his continued unwillingness to back down from challenges had garnered him many more opportunities for trouble, and not all of them had been resounding victories.
Ryan had a social worker to report to, and had been forced to attend some different counseling programs. He strongly resented both conditions but over the past year had grudgingly been cooperating, largely because of his friend, a restaurant owner near downtown named Lee Chen. It was Lee that had helped him from falling headlong into an abyss.
Lee had taken an acute interest in Ryan, often commenting that he saw in him a stout heart and keen intelligence. Taking him under his wing, as a mentor of sorts, Lee had let Ryan help out at his restaurant.
The experience had been positive, settling Ryan down enough so that he cooperated with his legal requirements. He had to admit that it had gotten him out of the worst of the cyclical quagmire that had served as his day to day life.
Those who saw Ryan with Lee at the restaurant were treated to a different side of the youth. None would have guessed at his tendency for fighting and causing disturbances. Instead, they saw an energetic, if not fully articulate, young man who had an offbeat sense of humor.
Lee preferred to see Ryan stay in that world, and the two had started to argue more and more as Ryan had begun to spend an increasing amount of time with Antoine. Ironically, Ryan was trying harder to gain influence with Antoine before his friend got caught in the snares of law enforcement.
Yet Ryan did not dispute Lee’s claim that the demeanor and outlook of the youth quickly reversed when he was on the street.
Lee’s assessment was about to be put to the test again, as Ryan took note of some familiar faces after he and Antoine had traveled another two blocks off the main street. With easy strides, they continued to close the distance to where three other teenaged guys were loitering about a dim parking lot.
The tension rose quickly when Ryan and Antoine walked near the three youths, who gave them hard looks.
One of the guys yelled out sharply to Ryan, “Hey! What are you looking at? You got some problem?”
The trigger went off in Ryan’s head, and he once again proved Lee’s claims.
“Looking at? Absolutely nothing!” he retorted, a feral look coming into his eyes as he put a heavy emphasis upon the last words.