Shadowed: Chapter 34, Part 1: Bia’s Womany Tears

I was just thinking today about how much I’m going to enjoy searching for my yearly Wintermas romance!  Can’t wait.

It’s so hot and muggy here.

Anyway…sigh…time for Bia to have her dark night of the soul.  It is exactly two weeks since the mass murder, so for those of you keeping track, it is Tuesday, February 5, 2047.

Bia thinks about her sadness and “where she now stood on the subject of God and, yes, her own salvation.”  It strikes me that her grief is all but indistinguishable from Felicia’s grief.  Granted, the both lost twenty-something sons in the biggest mass murder in the world.  (Well, second-biggest in their world, Noah’s flood being the first.)  But it still seems to me that they would process grief differently, because they are such different people.  But they both think of their own feelings in a rather…generic sort of way.

When does the sharp pain of grief give way to the dull ache of mourning? [Bia thinks]

I dunno, but I do notice that neither Bia nor Felicia seem to think personally about their losses.  That is, they don’t think about the loss of Danny or Taj, but about Loss.  Speaking from experience here (not the experience of losing a child, but of losing a beloved person who was quite young), sure, you think about your own loss, but you also think about the losses of the dead person: the things he will never experience, the events in life that he will never see.

I wonder if it’s because Jenkins doesn’t think about grief in that way, or because he doesn’t want to Go There—doesn’t want to acknowledge the true horror of what his loving god has done.  Danny and Taj, both lifetime atheists, are now roasting in Hell.  Their mothers, both on their way to becoming RTCs, don’t even think about that.  I’ve heard radio preachers give out the platitude that death isn’t really a final goodbye, because you’ll see the loved one in Heaven.  But that doesn’t apply if the dead person is a nonbeliever.  It all comes back to what I’ve said in the past: I don’t know how Christians function, how they even get out of bed every morning, if they think even one person they’ve ever cared about is being tortured forever even as we speak.

Jenkins being Jenkins, he has to give a nod to Bia’s lack of womanliness by observing that she hasn’t cried yet.  That she hasn’t cried “since elementary school,” in fact.

GEE I WONDER IF BIA WILL CRY WHEN SHE MAKES THE “TRANSACTION” AND BECOMES A REAL TRUE CHRISTIAN???

Oh, and Bia, in the throes of grief for Taj, spares not a single thought for Taj’s big sister, her own daughter, Leya, the professor.  I think Jenkins actually did forget that he created her.  How could you not cling to your daughter at such a time?  And, in almost-believer Bia’s particular case, how could you not discuss the God Question with her?

But nope, all she contemplates is her own sin and fear and feeling of being pursued, presumably by the Hound of Heaven.  Poor Bia.  And poor Leya.  We hardly knew ye.

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Posted on September 2, 2015, in Shadowed. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Buck Williams is allowed to brag about never crying, but a woman? Never.

    At least Bia will fit in great with the other RTCs, with her worrying more about her salvation than her son’s fate. Reminds me of the Chick tract Bad Momma. “Thank you god, for confronting me my need for salvation by killing all my criminal children with a tornado, then roadting them in hell.”

  2. Meta-Bia rocks a silver jumpsuit, and is weaponising theology. How do you take on a god? We don’t know yet, but we’re going to find out.

  3. “Granted, the both lost twenty-something sons in the biggest mass murder in the world. (Well, second-biggest in their world, Noah’s flood being the first.)”

    No, no, see this isn’t true in the slightest.

    There were nowhere near as many people living at the time of the Flood, even if you account for thousand-year lifespans. So either way you look at it, this mass murder is much larger in scale.

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