Grace, Peace, and Pizza Pt. 2

Part 2 of 3

Rob wondered what it meant to live out grace and peace; the first thing on your tongue, the closest thing to your mind, and the deepest thing in your heart. Speaking joy and harmony to your enemies? The notion made no sense; it was counter to everything he’d ever experienced; contrary to how the world worked. Then he thought, “What’s so great about the world? Maybe the best thing is the contrary thing.” Existing in a state of grace and peace with God and other people couldn’t be bad either way, but who could do that? He couldn’t go from Rocco’s pizza to Mr. Smith’s house without numerous outbursts and an uncountable number of bird flippings, how could he model grace and peace?

             Rob got out of the Neon with this idea crowding his mind. He grabbed the Sprite and the patented “Stay Hot” bag holding the pizzas and walked up to Mr. Smith’s door. He checked his watch as he walked; it had been a twenty-five drive, not bad considering the rain, and the morons. The last time he had delivered pizza here Mr. Smith complained about how long it had taken, that the pizza wasn’t hot, and the Sprite wasn’t cold, the complaint trifecta. Rob expected nothing better this time, certainly no tip. He rang the doorbell and waited for Mr. Smith to answer. Mr. Smith answered within a few moments and looked Rob up and down. Rob was at least six inches taller than Mr. Smith but Mr. Smith had one of those athletic type bodies. “It’s about time. I could have made my own pizzas,” Mr. Smith said.

            “Then why didn’t you, prick,” Rob thought as he handed Mr. Smith the Sprite. At the same moment, the phrase “grace and peace” ran through Rob’s mind. “Sorry if I’m late, sir. Here’s your pizzas,” he said as he took the pizzas from the “Stay Hot” bag and handed them to Mr. Smith. “Your total is $39.77 tonight.”

            “Here. Keep the change,” he said, handing Rob two twenty dollar bills.

            “Wow, almost a whole quarter,” Rob thought, again followed by grace and peace.

            “Should I expect hot pizzas, or did you eat the hot ones and bring me leftovers?” Mr. Smith asked as a crooked smile spread across his perfectly trimmed goatee. Rob looked up from the cash bag where he had been placing the bills and glared at Mr. Smith as he felt his fists clench and his heart pound. Then he heard it again, grace and peace.      “The bag has a heating element and it should keep them warm.”

            “Wow, ‘element’ is a pretty big word!”

            Grace and peace, grace and peace—“It was on my word of the day toilet paper, sir,” Rob replied, hoping a little humor would ease his own anger.

            “Right. If it’s not hot, I will complain.”

            “Ask for Kim, she’s the shift manager tonight. Good night, sir.” Rob walked back to the Neon, not feeling harmonious, but not feeling bad about himself either. He squeezed in behind the Neon’s steering wheel, put the key in the ignition and turned to start the car, only nothing happened except a “clunk—clunk.” Rob tried again, “clunk.” “Could this possibly get worse?” Rob said aloud as he got out of the car and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He called the pizza place and told them that the car wouldn’t start. Kim assured him that AAA would be called immediately. Rob also asked if Mr. Smith had called to complain yet and Kim said he had not. Rob hung up the phone and leaned against the car figuring he had about an hour to wait. The rain had slowed to a little more than a mist but the sun was going down and it was becoming cold. Rob could see the lights come on in the town below, the world was getting on with the evening and he was stuck here. He heard the door of Mr. Smith’s house open behind him and turned to see Mr. Smith step out towards him.

            “Is there some kind of problem here, pizza guy?”

            “Car won’t start. I called the restaurant and they’re sending a truck.”

            “How does a guy your size drive a Neon?”

            Grace and peace—“Carefully.”

            “Why don’t you wait inside?” Rob thought it might be preferable to freeze.

            “Thank you, Mr. Smith, but the truck should be here soon and I don’t want to impose on you.”

            “If they called for a tow, you’re here for at least an hour. It’s going to get colder, you should come in. I won’t ask you again, I’ll just watch you shiver from inside.” Rob reconsidered and accepted the offer. Mr. Smith led him into the house which he noticed was well furnished and there didn’t seem to be a speck of dust anywhere. There were no family photos, no personal items anywhere. Artwork hung on the walls that reminded Rob of the kind he had seen in dental offices and everything seemed to be in varying shades of white. They walked past the formal dining room and into the kitchen where Mr. Smith offered him a seat at a small table. The room was cool; it’s wasn’t cold enough yet to run the heater, and the widows were open to allow natural light into the room, giving the feel of being as cloudy inside as out. Rob noticed that the small pizza was gone, along with the Sprite, though the large combination was sitting on the counter. Mr. Smith sat opposite Rob at the small table.

            “Thank you for asking me in, Mr. Smith.”

            “This doesn’t make us friends. It just seemed stupid, you out there in the rain and cold.”

            “I understand, and didn’t think otherwise.” The two men sat without speaking. Rob looked around the room and marveled at the organization. Except for the pizza, nothing was on the white marble countertops. The faucet was shiny and the white sink looked as if it had never been used. He felt as if he were in a Sunset Magazine Home-of-the-Month photograph.

            “So, you’re no spring chicken,” Mr. Smith broke the silence.

            “I’m sorry,” Rob replied.

            “I said you’re no spring chicken. You look like you’re forty or so. Shouldn’t you be doing something else; pizza delivery is a job for teenagers.”

            Grace and peace—Rob took a breath before replying. “I stay home and take care of the kids during the day while my wife works. I do this part time at night just to get a little extra money in the house.”

            Mr. Smith tipped his head back and laughed. Rob could hear his laughter echoing off the walls down the hall. Grace and peace—grace and peace

            “You’re a Mr. Mom!” Mr. Smith managed to say while laughing.

            Grace and peace—“No, I’m a dad who stays home with his kids.”

            “What do you do all day; watch ESPN while ironing your pantyhose?” Mr. Smith said, clutching his stomach from the laughter.

            “I’m not a big ESPN fan. I get the kids to school and do what needs to be done at home.” Grace and peace

            “Man, how did you get a gig like that?” Mr. Smith asked. Rob paused for a moment before answering.

Reviews

[LongTale]

I'll keep reading to see where you are going with this, but the first thing I thought was that chapter 2 is a bit early for the main character to have made his change. This usually doesn't happen until the second act. In this story, he trys the grace and peace thing right off the bat. Don't you think it will have more impact if he refuses this wisdom? Then when he converts, it will be worth something since it cost him more to get there.
I like Mr Smith. Nothing like a grumpy old man to create problems for the MC. It is my fond ambition to become such a grumpy old man in a few years. I'm checking with the local community college to see if they have any courses I can take.