The Daredevils by Gary Amdahl Read Free Book Online Page A

Those are all fantasies that depend on a state of mind, a condition of soul. Continued indefinitely without change. Which is impossible.”
    â€œYou asked me what my ideal of earthly happiness was and I—”
    â€œI too,” said Amelia, “would like to live at the ranch, breeding Appaloosas, but my ideal of earthly happiness is working in a hospital twelve or eighteen hours a day. I think particularly a hospital for the insane.”
    â€œYes,” said Pastor Tom, “you see, that has been my point all along, that living an ideal of earthly happiness is not only possible, it is preeminently so, supremely and excellently possible. It is simple to do and it is easy to do. The spirit is reticent. The ego is aggressive. Surrender is the antidote.”
    â€œSurrender to what, the ego?” asked Charles, laughing lightly and mirthlessly.
    â€œWhen you surrender, when you let your ego collapse, you achieve union with God. In that union, a life of humbly helping other people seems . . . ideal. Happiness follows, as our Oriental friends like to say, like the wheel of the cart follows the hoof of the ox. The line is from their Dhammapada and refers to suffering rather than happiness, but the implication is that if you want nothing and accept the world as it is, you will cease, at least, to suffer. One substitutes love for selfishness. It is revolutionary but can be accomplished in the wink of an eye. ‘Whoever uncouples the religious and the social life has not understood Jesus. Whoever sets any bounds for the reconstructive power of the religious life over the social relations and institutions of men, to that extent denies the faith of the Master.’”
    â€œThank you, Pastor Tom. For what faults do you have the greatest indulgence? What is your principal fault?”
    â€œI have the greatest possible indulgence for all faults. My own principal fault? I think the best illustration is to be found in the proud ease with which I answered your question.”
    Instead of politely acknowledging his brother-in-law’s wisdom and humility, he turned to his little brothers.
    â€œI sure shut you two up, didn’t I.”
    They had long since ceased to smile and were now silently gauging Charles and Mother.
    â€œYes, Charles,” said Mother, “you certainly did. Was that your goal? To cause your brothers to stop laughing and begin to worry about you? Or were you playing to Amelia, hoping she would say something careless about your own mental health that would confirm you delightfully in your new role of theater visionary. Your board wants you to produce a play by Henry James, a play by Shakespeare, and a play by August Strindberg. They would like to see you do it with a small ensenble and the plays in constantly rotating repertory. They would like you to bring to bear current ideas in design. They would like to see charming, interesting shows, and they would like to see the house at capacity every night, as they rightly are concerned about viability in the long term. I would never have even so much as spoken Sir Edwin’sname much less invited him here had I known how vulnerable you were to spiritual imbalance.”
    â€œMother’s answer stands like a druidess invisibly behind her actual speech, as per usual. ‘Spiritual imbalance’?”
    â€œSadness,” said Father, “is the fault for which I have the least indulgence. The Stoics forebade it and I—well, you know this already. You’ll have to pardon an old man who has used up all the brains he had and is limping along as best he can without any.”
    Charles gave nobody the chance to laugh. Father was playing at seeming as weak and old as he actually was. As far as Charles was concerned, he was demonstrating how he could not be replaced: not swiftly, not easily, not at all.
    â€œFather, what is your principal fault?”
    â€œThat I think I have none!” Father laughed loudly and