The Hater
“A short story”
Just minding my own business and I meet someone that seemed so nice. He was a friendly sort of feller until the subject of politics came up. He said, “I don’t talk about politics or religion”. Well I thought, there are a lot of things other than that to talk about so I said, Do you like to go fishing”? “Nope don’t go fishing”. “Well how about hunting”? “Nope don’t believe in killing animals”. “What about cage fighting”, I said. “Oh yea, I love it, all the blood you know”. “Do you have good neighbors where you live”? “Nope, they’re mister goody two shoes, if you know what I mean”, he said. “No, I don’t”, I answered “what do you mean”? Suddenly, his eyes turned to the right and to the left quickly and then straight at me. He began to pace back and forth, kind of like a cat, never taking his eyes off my eyes. His voice turned rough and gravelly sounding. I kind of moved back a way, giving him more room to move you know. His arms started to flail around too. “Well, it all started when their stupid dog got into my garbage can and scattered it everywhere. Then their dumb kids came in my yard without my permission to pick it up. Of course, I ran them off. They do all kind of radical stuff over there too”. “What kind of radical stuff”, I asked. “Well, the idiot of the house, the old man you know, took a sign out and stuck it up in the front yard”. “What did it say”, I asked. Suddenly, a cloud went over the sun, turning everything dark. His hands started ringing as if a hissy-fit was coming. The pacing intensified and I moved back further. “Stupid! Stupid! Why it said that, that stupid, Donald Trump for President! How could a human being be so stupid as to vote for that stupid idiot? I went over, you know because I love confrontation”. I asked him, “What the hell be thought he was doing putting that stupid sign, of that stupid man next door to my house, people will think I am as stupid as you. And do you know what stupid did then? Can you believe this, he just looked at me and said, “Donald Trump is Gods man”? “Then he just turned and went back into his house”. As I observed my new friend’s red angry face, I then asked, “By the way I didn’t catch your name”. As in a blink of an eye he was back to normal, “Why my name is Mr. Sane”. “May I ask you a personal question Mr. Sane” I asked. “Well I guess so” he replied. “Do you hate your neighbor next door, oh, what was his name”? “Why, his name is Mr. Emanuel and I don’t hate him”. “But you don’t like the way he lives and what he believes in”, I said. “I am against everything he is, thinks, and what he stands for. He believes stupid stuff”. “Are you jealous of him”? I asked. “Hell no” Mr. Sane replied, “but he doesn’t deserve to have that motor home and that stupid boat in his yard. He thinks he is better than us”. “Do you think that Mr. Emanuel is a Christian”? I asked. “I don’t know and I don’t care, he can be anything he wants to be”, he replied. “You say you don’t hate him but you are against what he owns and believes in. You say you are not jealous of him, but you are mad at what he possesses. Do you hold bitterness and disdain for him? Do you think you could murder him given the chance”? “What, of course not, what is this, you ask to many questions” he shot back. “Do you read much Mr. Sane”? “What”, he barked. “Do you have a dictionary? Do you have any idea how your very own name is written in the Greek language? The word Sane is a verb meaning, to hate, to come to hate, to set against, to hold bitter disdain, an emotion to plot torture and murder”. Mr. Sane became deathly quiet. “Your neighbor Mr. Emanuel is a Christian; do you know what his name means Mr. Sane”? “I have no idea” Mr. Sane answered shyly. “Emanuel means, “God With Us”. If Mr. Emanuel is a Christian, it means that God is with him. Jesus said, if they hated me, they will hate you also. Could it be that because you hate your neighbor Mr. Emanuel, that you also hate God, Mr. Sane”? “No, No, that can’t be, it can’t be” said Mr. Sane. Then great tears began to roll from his eyes. He began to say “No, no, I don’t hate you God, no, not you. I didn’t know, please forgive me, please, in hating my neighbor, I was hating you”. Suddenly Mr. Sanes’ whole countenance changed, a peace that you could almost touch was all around him. A sudden quiet fell all around us. Mr. Sane said “I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go and tell Mr. Emanuel how sorry I am”. The last time I ever saw Mr. Sane he was running, or maybe dancing down the street towards Mr. Emanuel’s House. I looked up and the sky seemed bluer and the birds seemed to sing exceptionally sweeter.
David McClary
