Grace, Peace, and Pizza Pt. 1

This is part one of three.

 

“It’s your turn, Rob.”

            “My turn for what, Kim?”

            “You get to take pizza to the big man up on the hill.” Kim said while doing her best movie starlet imitation, finishing by blowing Rob a kiss and striking her best glamour pose. She assumed her normal posture and demeanor and said “So have fun with that.”

            Rob sighed as he pulled the delivery tag off the printer for David Smith at 1243 Hillpeak Road. Every driver knew the house. Mr. Smith ordered pizza every Monday night and always the same thing: a large combination and a small Hawaiian on pan crust with a two liter bottle of Sprite. Technically, Hillpeak Road was out of the delivery area but Mr. Smith had talked to the owner who had agreed to deliver there as a special favor to Mr. Smith. The only problem was that Mr. Smith seldom tipped, and when he did, it was nearly insulting. That coupled with the frequent complaints and the longer drive meant that none of the drivers wanted the assignment. Kim was right however, it was Rob’s turn to go so he grabbed the Sprite and the pizzas and started to leave. Kim stopped him on his way out, “Wait, you gotta take the delivery car.” The delivery car was a 1997 Dodge Neon with “Rocco’s Pizza” painted on the sides.

            “Why, again?”

            “Because the business insurance won’t cover you driving your own car outside of the delivery area. It’s a business thing. Here,” she said, throwing him the keys.

            “Well, somebody’s gotta do it. At least I’ll have a chance to catch up on my podcasts during the drive.”

            “What are you listening to today?” Kim asked.

            “A Christian thing,” Rob replied.

            “You don’t really buy all that do you?”

            “Well yeah, most of it anyway.”

            “Rob, I’m disappointed. I thought you were a smart guy. I’m going with science myself.”

            “What science?”

            “Evolution. The idea that some guy made everything out of nothing seems like a story to me.”

            “It is a story, but that doesn’t make it false. Besides, you don’t have your own dirt,” Rob replied.

            “Dirt?” Kim asked.

            “There’s an old story, kind of a joke. Some guy becomes so rich and powerful that he starts thinking of himself as being a god. God challenges this guy to a competition which the guy readily accepts. So God says ‘Let’s start with something easy, make a man.’ The guy says no problem and reaches down to gather some dirt. God stops the guy and says ‘Wait a minute, go get your own dirt.’ Evolution never has its own dirt.”

            “Whatever. You better get going or you’ll be late. I don’t want any phone calls from this guy tonight.”

            “Yeah, yeah.” Rob left the restaurant and walked out to the Neon. He loaded the pizzas and soda into the passenger seat and walked around the car to get behind the wheel. At a little over 6’4 and three hundred pounds it was a tight squeeze. He reached down to move the seat back and found that the seat was already moved back to the last notch. “Lovely. What’s next, rain?” he muttered, just as three drops plopped onto the Neon’s windshield. Rob turned on the wipers which smeared the drops across the windshield mixing them with whatever dirt and dust was already there making the windshield considerably dirtier than when there was just rain. “Absolutely lovely,” he said as he started the car and pulled out of Rocco’s parking lot.

            At the first traffic light, Rob tuned the radio to the station displayed in the window of the transmitter connected to his iPod and selected the podcast he wanted. For reasons Rob was unable to explain, it seemed that people in California were unable to drive in the rain. As if the rain washed away their ability to drive along with whatever crud was in the air, and the morons were in abundant supply today. Rob was cutoff as the podcast started by a gray Toyota minivan and like many other drivers who think themselves invisible when in the car, Rob chastised the offending driver in the privacy of his own vehicle. “Yeah, hey, you know what? Come on over here, moron. It’s not like I was driving here or anything.”

            “My brothers and sisters,” the podcast began, “please open your Bibles to Philippians, chapter one, verse one and follow along with me…”

            “How ‘bout if I just drive and listen?” Rob answered back.

            “Grace and peace to you from God…”

            “Knuckle head, you don’t make turns from the center lane!”

            “Grace has been defined in various ways by theologians over the years but a consensus seems to be that grace is the absolutely free expression of the love of God, joy gratification, acceptance; one theologian described it as every inarguable form of good…”

            “Look at this doofus,” Rob said, passing a Chevy Malibu moving at less than the speed limit.

            “Peace here is the Jewish word, Shalom, which means to be in harmony. Paul, is essentially saying ‘may you experience the free expression of God’s love and be in harmony with God and those around you’…”

            “Freakin’ moron! People like you are the reason cars should have training wheels!” Rob shouted at a motorist who had come to full stop before turning into a driveway. Rob half listened to the podcast as he continued the drive to Mr. Smith’s house, the podcast continued:

            What if we actually tried to live this out? What if we left our own junk behind and tried to live a state of grace and peace with God and those around us? What if, whatever else is going on, we start with grace and peace?”

            “Nice maneuver. I see the short bus is missing a passenger,” Rob said to a motorist making a U-turn over a double yellow line.

            “If we, as a Christian community, could simply live out grace and peace, sharing with God in the work of redemption and renewal; it would change the world.” Rob turned up the radio as he turned onto Hillpeak Road and the podcast concluded with: “My brothers and sisters, may you speak grace and peace to your enemies, to those who have wronged you, to those who you may be nursing a grudge against, may you interrupt with grace and peace when people begin to condemn themselves, may it be the first thing on your tongue, the closest thing to your mind, the deepest thing in your heart. Grace, and peace, be with you.” Rob turned off the radio and sat in silence the last couple blocks of the drive.

Reviews

[LongTale]

The writing here is technically good. You almost go too far with the details, the actual address, the exact order, etc..., but I think you get away with it.
Two things that might have made this better -
First, amp up the drama. What does Rob really want? Is he going for Pizza Guy of the year? Does he want to shake off this lame job and be a science reporter for the local paper? Is he trying to get the board of education to ban biology text books? Once you set up the problem, make it impossible for him to succeed. He can't be pizza guy of the year if Kim keeps giving him the worst customers. He can't leave his lame job to go to school while his mother is sick. ACLU lawyers have him out gunned in court. This tension will drive the story. Oh, and it is great to make the thing he wants not be the thing he needs. He'll find that out in the third act.
Second, tighten up the scene in the car. There is a reason why everyone falls asleep during the sermon in church. What good is your theme, if you bore everyone with the message? Try this - Give the theme of the tape at the begining, skip the details while the other driver forces Rob into the ditch, have Rob explode, then end with a line from the tape about forgiving the least of my children. Done right, this could be dripping with irony, the golden chalice of literature.