The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 13)

IV. My Mouth Will Tell of Your Righteous Acts THE GOD WE DESERVE IS JUST A MAN by Mary Jetson When I ask Gideon Dodd, 42, why he wants to be God, his eyes glaze over in that way many would assume means he’s staring straight through them, cooking up some diplomatic, sound bite-ready answer.Continue reading “The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 13)”

The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 10)

VII. Therefore My Harp Is Tuned to Mourning “Who died?” In America, five years before Gideon Dodd would don the very same outfit to honor his deceased wife, he straightened a black tie and practiced a somber punim in the mirror of his grandiose dressing room. A woman at the mahogany door spoke to himContinue reading “The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 10)”

The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 9)

III. Weep Bitterly for Her Who Goes Away Six days after Gideon Dodd’s sermon about Truth — and about his wife Tamera’s infamous interview with Maria Gutierrez (not yet Stenson) — he returned home late from an elders’ meeting. He was hungry. He was thinking about playing catch with his boy, maybe, after dinner. (NotContinue reading “The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 9)”

The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 7)

III. …But with Many Advisers They Succeed “What was that horseshit? ‘Bad muchacho?’ Did you hear yourself out there?” Inside the Doddville bus, Kratz leaned against a crafting table, shaking in his mauve Adidas windbreaker. With the back of a hand he knocked a squeeze-tube of adhesive paste into an unreachable crevasse under the console.Continue reading “The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 7)”

The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 6)

SELAH: II             “Get down from there, Boogie.” Somewhere in Utah a budgie perches upon a shower curtain rod, shrouded in the vapor clouds swirling above a bathtub full of water, lavender, and sixty-eight year-old, white male flesh.             The man in the tub repeats himself, stern and authoritative:             “C’mon down, Boogie-Man. Sit onContinue reading “The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 6)”