[ WP ] An atheist is having a debate with someone who , unknown to him , is actually Satan in human form .

“ Not following your family in? ” 
 
 Brian looked up, startled. Standing above him was a slim man in a powder blue sports jacket and white slacks. He gave Brian a faint smile. Normally, Brian would ignore any strangers that approached him. This Starbucks was notorious in being a panhandlers hub but there was a warmth in this man ’ s eyes that spoke of inexhaustible understanding. And it made Brian want to answer that warmth. 
 
 “ My family? ” he echoed. 
 
 The man made a slight motion with his chin towards the church across the street from them. 
 
 “ I saw you dropping off your family there, ” he replied, taking a seat next to him without invitation. “ Your wife and son. But you didn ’ t follow them in. ” 
 
 From the outdoor patio seating, you could see the last few stragglers hurrying into the church, walking through the doors in that exaggerated tiptoe manner that all latecomers had. 
 
 Brian shook my head. “ No, I ’ m just the chauffeur, ” he said. 
 
 The man ’ s eyes were a rich brown with flecks of green. They were wide set with lines of jocularity edging the corners. He would ’ ve looked like a kind high school science teacher Brian had once had in school except for the sports jacket. The powder blue color looked far too superficial for a man of such depth. 
 
 The man tilted his head in curiosity. “ Why is that? ” he asked. When he saw Brian ’ s hesitation, he gave a brilliant smile, instantly meant to reassure him. “ I ’ m sorry. I don ’ t mean to pry but I come to this Starbucks every Sunday and I always see you walking back after dropping off your family and I ’ ve always been curious as to why you don ’ t go in with them. ” He gave a little shrug and smiled. “ I guess today I ’ m curious enough to finally ask. ” 
 
 On any other day, asked by any other man, Brian would ’ ve told the person to fuck off and mind their own business. He would ’ ve felt disturbed and thoroughly creeped out by a man noticing his weekly behavior. 
 
 But again, those warm brown eyes and that smile of familiarity, as if they were already old friends, swayed Brian. 
 
 “ Church really isn ’ t my thing, ” he said with a slight, awkward shrug. “ My wife is the religious one. ” 
 
 “ But your son? ” the man pressed. “ Won ’ t he be growing up religious as well since he ’ s going to church with your wife? ” 
 
 Brian gave that same awkward shrug that was really more of a quick meeting of his shoulder blades than anything else. 
 
 “ Don ’ t most of us start out that way? ” he said with a grin that was meant to be tongue in cheek but lost its bite in the face of the stranger ’ s solemn face. “ I grew up religious and then later made up my own mind about the ways of the world. I ’ m sure my son will be able to do the same, when time comes. ” 
 
 The man pressed his lips together and nodded as if taking in everything Brian was saying with heartfelt sincerity. It made Brian suddenly feel a little important. He quickly forgot about his cup of Americano and folded up paper. He instead wanted this man to look at him again with that strange gaze of familiar understanding. 
 
 “ And what kind of mind did you make up? ” he asked. 
 
 Brian leaned in, confused. “ Pardon? ” 
 
 “ What kind of mind did you make up about religion? ” the man clarified. 
 Brian was about to answer but he paused, his mouth open, as he narrowed his eyes at the man. 
 
 “ You ’ re not a preacher, are you? ” he asked, suddenly suspicious. That warm look and gentle voice was exactly the kind of mannerisms you ’ d find in a preacher. 
 
 The stranger laughed. His laughter was soft and easy going like his speech. He shook his head. “ No, not at all. Just a curious stranger, ” he replied, his eyes twinkling with humor. 
 
 Brian relaxed again. 
 
 A car drove by, careening out of the tiny strip mall parking lot. A smell of something rubbery and burning wafted towards them. 
 
 *Goddamn idiot drivers. * Brian gave a quick glare towards the reckless vehicle and tried to ignore the smell. 
 
 “ So religion, ” the man said, redirecting Brian ’ s attention back to the matter at hand. “ Not for you, eh? ” 
 
 Brian shook his head. “ Not once I got older, ” he said. “ It ’ s easier to believe all of that when you ’ re younger. As a kid, your life is already defined by your dependence on others. On adults, parents, teachers. It only makes sense that you ’ d also be dependent on a god. ” 
 
 The man opened his hand and then closed them, pressing the fingertips together. Brian noticed how long and elegant the man ’ s fingers were. 
 
 “ I don ’ t think dependence has an age limit, ” he said ruefully. “ I ’ m sure most people find they depend on things well into old age. ” 
 
 Brian nodded. “ I ’ m sure, ” he agreed. “ Drug addicts and alcoholics don ’ t do it for kicks and giggles. ” He quickly thought of his brother-in-law and his long battle with the bottle. “ But I think as you get older and you start going out into the world, you start to see how much work you have to put into your life to just live. You realize how much input you have and how much your actions create direct causal webs. I dunno….It was hard to believe someone was up there in the sky pulling the strings after all that. ” 
 
 The man tilted his head. “ No family tragedies though? No personal traumas? Usually people leave the church because of some kind of brutal tragedy that leaves them shaken and wondering why a merciful God would do such a thing, ” he said. There was a glimmer of humor in his eyes and Brian wondered if he was teasing him. 
 
 “ No, ” he answered, deciding to be straightfaced. “ Both parents are alive and healthy. My mother is actually a Sunday School teacher. Wife and kid are happy and healthy for the most part. I ’ ve got a good job and own my own house. Can ’ t ask for more, can you? ” 
 
 Brian grinned, figuring this was a good ending point for the conversation. It was a good, light way to end a discussion that could easily become heated and dangerous. After all, he didn ’ t know this stranger ’ s beliefs and didn ’ t want to unknowingly step on his toes by saying something offensive, even though it was the stranger who had initiated the conversation. 
 
 “ But that ’ s all the superficial stuff, is n't it? ” the man asked. 
 
 Brian raised a brow, surprised by the question. He sniffed and wrinkled his nose, getting another whiff of that pungent burning smell. Had another car driven by while he had been talking? He hadn ’ t seen or heard one. 
 
 “ How do you mean? ” he asked. 
 
 The stranger shrugged and pursed out his lips. “ Well, ” he said broadly, “ having a hard time believing there ’ s a man up in the skies who watches over whether you ’ ll get a traffic ticket or not can be rather hard to give credence to once you ’ re an adult. But what about beyond that? ” 
 
 “ You mean, like the afterlife? ” Brian asked. 
 
 The stranger nodded. “ That ’ s one. ” He said. “ Or perhaps, the overall purpose of living. Of being. ” 
 
 Brian gave a little nervous chuckle. “ Don ’ t you think that ’ s a little beyond my depths? I ’ m no philosopher. I barely passed my basic Ethics course in college. ” He tried to make light again but somehow he felt a weight pressing on him. Those moments he had in the middle of a shower or right at the edge of sleep, those moments of deep, unknowable darkness, began to creep into the corners of his body. 
 
 “ But isn ’ t that what we ’ re doing? ” the man pressed. “ We ’ re working and creating a life in hopes that it ’ ll somehow illuminate us at the end, what it was all for. We do all these things in hopes that, at least on our deathbeds, we ’ ll know why we did it and where it ’ ll ultimately lead us. ” 
 
 Brian stared at the stranger. The warm eyes never lost its friendly glow but somehow the face had grown longer and the lines around his eyes and mouth a little deeper, lending an air of gravity that was a little daunting. Brian sniffed, that odd pungent smell wafting in again. Had another car skidded out? 
 
 “ What about you? ” Brian asked. “ Are you a religious man? ” 
 
 The stranger stared at Brian for a beat before a slow spreading smile grew on his face. He looked amused. 
 
 “ I think to some degree I am, ” he said. 
 
 Brian coughed. The smell was really quite strong now. His eyes flicked around the quiet parking lot. Was something maybe burning somewhere? 
 
 “ And you believe in God giving us life and heaven and hell and angels and Satan? ” Brian asked, a little incredulously. The man seemed so educated and refined. It was hard to believe he would really believe in something as ludicrous as demons and devils. 
 
 The stranger didn ’ t answer right away. He instead gave Brian a long and studying gaze, as if debating whether he wanted to reply or not. And if he did reply, whether he wanted to be honest or not. And that rattled Brian for a moment. The stranger didn ’ t strike him as a liar. 
 
 Finally the man sighed, shaking his head. “ I believe that sometimes cruelty can lie in the face of an angel, ” he said, leaning back into the hard metal seat. The man looked at the round table and the cold cup of coffee. He smiled to himself as if momentarily forgetting Brian was sitting next to him. 
 
 “ Sometimes I wonder how fair it is to set up a world with just enough rules and clues as to how it operates. It ’ s like playing a game with every other word in the rulebook blacked out. You ’ ll never get the full story. And your chances of winning are just that—chance. ” 
 
 “ Huh? ” Brian asked, completely confused. “ I don ’ t think I understand. ” 

