The Book of Harold by Owen Egerton

The Hot Tub Incident

..... "Music is like that."
"but I don't even like James Taylor. I hate James Taylor. It wasn't the music. It was the crowd and the girl and the weed. It was all of it. It was the moment."
He nodded. " Like you happen upon this secret--- you're suprised to find it. So clear, so real. But you can't hold on to it or even look at it straight on. It's gone as soon as you try."
"Yes."
"And you're left without even the words to describe it, but you know it was there and it was what you are meant for."
"That's it."
"God making us hungry for God."
"I'd like to know God," I said. I said it casually, letting my hand skim the water's surface.
"You're sure?" He leaned back and looked up at the sky.
"Yeah. I want that purpose. I want to be a part of it, you know?"
"That's not God, That's just tinsel on the tree."
"Sure, okay. But I do want God."
"What does that feel like, to want God, Blake?"
"I don't know. It feels like wanting. I don't know."
"Do you want to know? Because I can show you."
"Yeah, I want to know." As soon as I said that, Harold pounced. He grabbed me by the back of my neck and pushed me under the water. The hot wter jets and bubbles thundered in my head. At first i thought it must be a joke and tried not to panic. I watched the drain. A minute passed, I started to struggle. I was a strong man, but Harold had me pinned. I let go a mouthful of air. My lungs tightened and i could feel blood blue, oxygenless blood scream through my heart. I threw out my arms, grabbing and clawing. I scratched Harold's hand and saw his blood cloud the churning water. But Harold didn't loosen his grip. My throat tensed and my head pulsed. I knew I couldn't hold out much longer. I knew I would try to breathe in the water. My body was going to suck in no matter how hard I tried to tell it not to. i was going to drown, thrashing away like one of my kittens. Harold let my ears above the water. My mouth and nose were still under. "There," he said. "Like you want your next breath. That's how it feels to want God." Then I was up gasping and crying. Harold leaned back. That was the first time it occurred to me that this walk might end poorly.


LIKE YOU WANT YOUR NEXT BREATH. THAT'S HOW IT FEELS TO WANT GOD.