Snake Oil For The Soul
To Beth's great relief, Carol was a pro when it came to understanding social cues. Which included the desperate 'get us out of here' look that Beth shot her way.
Carol stepped in and made small talk while delivering the check, managing to turn the conversation completely around and away from Daryl for the last five minutes they spent sitting in the booth. Before she walked away, she winked at Beth, and Beth gave her a grateful smile. Then she patted Daryl on the shoulder and went on her way.
Daryl tried to argue with Hershel about paying the bill for their meal, but in the end, Hershel strong-armed him by insisting that it was only right he take care of the tab. Daryl was their guest, after all.
Beth was the only one who noticed Daryl whispering to Carol over by the cash register, handing over his debit card while she set Hershel's card aside. The rest of the Greenes were too occupied with gathering their things and making their way towards the front door. And when Hershel got the receipt, he scribbled a signature without glancing at the numbers, as he always did. Carol simply smiled and handed his card back. Daryl was already out the door and lighting up a cigarette.
"Only my dumbass brother would pass up the opportunity fer a free meal," Merle muttered spitefully.
He's not a dumbass, Beth thought and didn't say. He's just different.
The stormclouds overhead were boiling against a darkened sky. Lightning cracked and thunder rumbled, low and ominous. The smell of rain was heavy in the air, like wet soil and salty water. Sunlight struggled to break through the layer of clouds. Random beams shot through the breaks in clouds here and there. The thunder and lightning was getting closer and closer, as was the threat of a downpour.
Beth didn't have a chance to speak to Daryl privately as they all exited Jerry's Diner and headed to their vehicles. He finished up his cigarette and mounted his bike. Hershel asked if he needed to go home and change before throwing hay bales, but Daryl just shook his head and agreed to follow them back to the farm.
A few minutes later, Beth was inside her brother's Ford Explorer, sitting in the back beside Maggie and Glenn, and the sound of Daryl's motorcycle was following close behind them. They drove through Senoia and away from it, towards the direction of the farm. They spoke casually, though Beth remained silent and thoughtful while she stared out the window.
She was wondering if Merle would be making crude commentary in her ear for the rest of the day, or if he'd get bored once he realized they were doing regular old farmwork and disappear again. There was no room for him here in the Explorer, but she had a feeling he'd be waiting for her as soon as she stepped out of the truck.
And how could she guard herself from his little jabs at her self-esteem? No matter how accustomed she grew to his obnoxious remarks and off-color jokes, she still couldn't seem to keep him from worming his way inside her head. She kept telling herself he didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Kept telling herself that he was just talking out the side of his neck, saying everything he knew would push her buttons. But sometimes, it felt like he was just saying things to say them. It wasn't like anyone else could hear him. Maybe he thought she really was ignoring him sometimes? Maybe he thought he was yelling into the void.
Shit… maybe he was like Shawn. Just as overprotective, just as passive-aggressive, just as blunt and rude. Maybe he really couldn't help it. Maybe it was a big brother thing.
Is that what this was? Merle was still trying to protect Daryl by hindering him? Like he thought holding the youngest Dixon back would indefinitely keep him from getting hurt?
Had he really learned nothing since he died?
Why did she keep asking herself this question when she already knew the answer?
Beth was so lost in her own thoughts that she barely registered Maggie calling Shawn out for being a dick. When she felt the tension crackle in the air of the cab, she zoned back in and paid attention to the conversation between her family.
"I wasn't being a dick," Shawn said defensively.
"Hey now," Hershel objected. "No need for that language, kids."
But Maggie ignored their dad. "Yes, you were. What's your deal? You think yer gonna scare off all of Beth's potential suitors? Are we in the 1800s again? Are you suddenly the guardian of her womanhood?"
Beth hated it when they talked about her like she wasn't sitting right there. But this time, it didn't seem worth it to jump in and join the fight just to defend herself. She was tired of fighting with her brother. She had so many bigger problems to worry about.
Shawn scoffed. "Makes me sick when you accuse me like that. I ain't doin' nothin' that any other sensible guy wouldn't do."
"Nothin' except humiliate us in the middle of the diner," Maggie said.
"Fuck off," Shawn snapped, whipping his head back to shoot his sister a scathing glare, hands tightening on the steering wheel. "He's forty fuckin' years old! Am I the only one around here who's—"
"ENOUGH!" Hershel boomed.
His stern voice halted the argument, and a tense silence fell over them. Shawn turned back to stare out the windshield, stewing silently. Maggie crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at her dad.
"I will not have this talk—at the table, in the car, outside church, anywhere. Not in the house, not out in the yard. Not. Anywhere. You understand me? This is no longer a subject up for discussion. Maggie, I don't wanna hear another word on the matter. And Shawn, I think it's due time you learn to bite your damn tongue, son. I taught you both better than this."
All the Greene kids nodded in understanding. Even Beth. Even though she hadn't done anything, she still felt a little guilty.
Maybe she should've stepped in earlier and stood up for Daryl. But where would it have gotten her, besides onto her dad's shit list?
"There's a lot of work to be done," Hershel went on, his tone softening significantly. "And we've got some help for once. So let's take advantage of it… After that, I think we could all use a nap."
Beth couldn't have agreed more.
When they arrived back at the farm, Daryl remained outside, smoking next to his bike while the Greene Family rushed inside and changed out of their church clothes. Maggie and Glenn had volunteered to exercise the horses, and of course Hershel planned on "supervising" Shawn, Beth, and Daryl.
Merle appeared inside Beth's bedroom, clear on the other side of the room and turned towards the wall while she changed into jeans and boots and a worn, old sweater.
"So ya think that went well?" He asked in his usual mocking tone.
"As well as it could've gone," Beth said, buttoning her jeans as she turned towards the mirror above her dresser. "All things considered."
Merle scoffed. "Ever the optimist."
"Daryl didn't seem too bothered," she said. "I mean, it's not like he's tryin' to take my brother out back an' beat him up, so maybe you were just assuming the worst. Maybe you should raise the bar a little when it comes to your brother."
"Hah!" Merle huffed out. "Just 'cause he's wearin' a poker face now don't mean he ain't bothered. You should know that by this point, blondie."
Beth double-checked herself in the mirror, running a brush through her hair and pulling her long blonde locks up into a loose ponytail, then wiping away a bit of smudged eyeliner from the corner of her eyes. She could see Merle's reflection standing on the other side of the room, still turned away. She chose to ignore his statement and change the subject.
"Thanks for havin' enough courtesy not to perv on me," she said, only half-sarcastic.
"Psh, don't mention it. Ain't much thrill in peepin' when yer dead," he muttered, just the slightest bit bitter. "'Sides, lookin' at you makes me feel like I'm pervin' on my fourteen-year-old sister or sum'n. Grosses me the fuck out. No offense, but with a body like that—"
"If you stop there, I'll take it as a compliment," Beth cut him off. She grabbed up her boots and sat down on the end of her bed to slip them on over her thick wool socks. "So when did you have time to read The Bible?" She asked curiously, still thinking about their conversation in the church. "You can quote it like you got it memorized. How'd that happen?"
He glanced over his shoulder and realized she was dressed, so he turned his body back towards her, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against her bedside table. He smirked smugly. "You really that surprised I can read? Just 'cause I don't use it don't mean I ain't got an extensive vernacular. Bet I know more words'an you ever heard of."
She turned her body, still sitting on the end of the bed, and faced him. "I was kidding. Can't you take a joke? I know you can read. I know you're not stupid, Merle."
He hmphed. "Well… 's nice ta hear ya say it once in a while."
She rolled her eyes, sighing. "You told me all about how you an' Daryl grew up, and from what I gathered, y'all never had much time to sit down and read. Let alone, the time to memorize entire Bible verses. Unless your mom taught you that stuff. Did she? Or when did that happen?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'ono. Wasn't our mom, though. Can't say I would'a given a shit about it in any other circumstance, but I had a battle buddy in Afghanistan who was a real Jesus freak. Kinda like you. Kept a Bible with him at all times, read the damn thing every night an' every morning, always prayed 'fore we'd go out into firefights. After a while, I started thinkin' there might be somethin' to it that I didn't know about—like maybe I was missin' out on somethin'. Maybe my old man kept me away from it 'cause he didn't want me to have nothin' good in my life. So I asked my buddy ta lemme get in on that. Ya know, the faith shit. He got me my own copy of that book, sat down an' read it with me every chance we got, told me everything he knew. All that shit he was raised to believe. All the shit that kept him goin' while we was stationed in that hellhole." Merle shook his head, reminiscing with humor. "I read that goddamn book cover-to-cover at least five times 'fore I left the Service. But not 'cause I liked it… I was just tryn'a make sense of it. My buddy was so fuckin' enamored with it. Like it was the best story he'd ever read in his whole life; the most life-changing content anybody could imagine. I wanted to feel what he felt. But I just… couldn't." Merle paused and worried his lower lip for a second, a flash of remorse in his icy blue eyes. But just like that, it was gone, and he shrugged it off just like he shrugged everything else off. He finished plainly, "I read it a couple more times after I got home, but jus' fer shits an' giggles. My buddy didn't make it back. He got shot in the head six months 'fore our deployment was s'posed ta end. Kinda ruined it for me, ya know? His faith didn't do shit fer him in the end. What the hell would it ever do for me, 'sides land me in a box with a pretty folded flag over the top?"
Beth blinked. "Oh." Her heart was in her stomach. She didn't know what else to say. She suddenly felt very sad for Merle Dixon, and his unnamed battle buddy who'd tried to show him the light in Christ's love.
Merle shrugged again. "Look… If I'mma be honest with ya blondie, that book you an' yer familiy loves so much is chock full of fuckin' plotholes. There's lotsa shit that don't make no damn sense, even if ya stretch yer imagination. Hell, I'd reckon it's borderline propaganda. All the blatant lies they tell ya. Damn shame, too, 'cause they got some pretty interesting tales. But they're all fucked-up with inconsistencies an' punishments an' weird, threatening shit. Like… are y'all supposed to be terrified of God? Is that what makes you love 'im? 'Cause I was scared of my old man too, but that don't mean I respected him or loved him. I just feared him. Obedience from fear ain't the same as obedience from respect. That's the one thing the military taught me damn good an' well. Ain't y'all know that by now? Or was I readin' the wrong book?"
Beth was taken aback. Never, in a million years, would she have guessed that she'd be getting into a theological debate with Merle Dixon. Though she couldn't lie and say this was the first time such an argument had been brought up in her presence. She'd experienced countless people with the same questions, and they'd always gone to her dad. And Hershel always seemed to have the perfect response.
So she tried to channel him for the moment. She tried to tap into that well of pure, uninhibited faith that lay at the core of her soul. How could she explain it?
She couldn't. Not really. She didn't possess the gift of speech like her father. Having faith was a matter of something else entirely. Something that people couldn't see, or hear, or smell or taste or feel or understand. It was just… having faith. No matter what.
It was stepping over to The Other Side repeatedly, for years, and coming back with the same sense of self every single time. It was all about belief. It was all about that quiet pulse of hope that resided in the back of everyone's mind.
That soft and steady beat. The one that chanted quietly, I am. I am. I am. I will be.
It was something completely inexplicable.
"Wow," she breathed out, brow furrowing as she stared at the dead Dixon. "You really did read it."
Merle grunted and rolled his eyes.
Then she said, "It's not about that, though. Yeah, there's tons of plotholes, and lots of… really scary things. Dark stuff. Punishment and threats of torture. It's all pretty screwed-up, I know. But those aren't the parts that me an' my family focus on. It's the message."
"The message?" Merle repeated.
"Yeah. The message. The moral of the story, or whatever you wanna call it," Beth clarified.
"And what moral is that? 'Don't disobey or else you'll suffer for all of eternity'?"
"No. It's about bein' a good person. Doing the right thing, even when other people say it isn't right. It's about keeping your humanity—defining it. It's about making sacrifices and caring for other people and-and… Well, it's about love."
He barked out a laugh. She didn't even flinch.
"Love, huh? What kinda love is that? The kind that made me an' Daryl say we 'loved' our old man? 'Cause that ain't love, sweetheart."
"No. It's a different kind of love; a love for mankind itself. For all people, good and bad. For yourself. It's about empathy and kindness and puttin' others before one's own self. It's about living through Christ, and remembering what He tried to teach people. It's about retaining your hope for a better world, even when everything is crumbling to pieces around you."
Merle blinked, his lips set into a thin line. His eyes narrowed and he studied her as though he were trying to gauge whether she was lying or not. But he knew better.
And Beth wasn't even sure that he'd heard her speaking so passionately about something since they'd met.
"'S that what it is fer you then?" He asked. Not in a condescending tone, even though most everything he said came off as condescending or argumentative. No, this time he was being genuine, and Beth could tell he was curious to know the answer. To understand how she could be so persistent in her seemingly pointless beliefs.
"Yeah," she confirmed. "It is. When everything starts to feel hopeless, I can remember that I have a bigger place in the world. Or I can remember that the only thing that matters is how much love I put out into the world. You might think it's funny, but my faith is one of the only things that's kept me going. It keeps me from gettin' hopeless. It reminds me that there's somethin' worth living for, even if I can't see it. Sometimes, you just… gotta have a little faith."
He seemed to be ruminating on her words. He nodded slowly, tongue in cheek. Then he grunted with half-agreement.
"I can see where yer comin' from," he admitted. "But I gotta tell ya, princess… that God of yers? He ain't nothin' more than another grifter."
A laugh burst out from Beth's mouth. It was such an absurd statement, she couldn't even stop herself. But she quickly stifled the sound and shook her head. What was the point of a theological debate if she wasn't willing to entertain other ideas, no matter how absurd they may be?
"A grifter?" She asked, one eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. "Okay, explain yourself. Why do you think God is a grifter?"
Merle hmphed and explained rather matter-of-factly, "Well sweetheart, I know grifters—scam artists, snake oil salesmen, whatever you wanna call 'em. God promises salvation, right?"
She nodded.
"Eternal life through Christ, up there in that glorious Kingdom of Heaven?"
She nodded again.
"But only at a later date. After you die. Only after you're born without even wanting to be born, and with some kinda original sin that ain't even your fault anyhow. Only after you've suffered an' sacrificed an' praised His name through a whole lifetime of pain and bullshit. Only after you've followed all His meticulous little rules. And even then, who's to say ya didn't slip up here an' there? No pride, no lust, no gluttony, no greed, no coveting—basically, He tells y'all not to be a human. 'Cause even though He made ya that way, it's bad, and ya ain't supposed to enjoy any of it. Loopholes abound in that contract He makes y'all sign in blood. So He's offerin' this big, wonderful prize… for what? And when? How do y'all even know it's up there? 'Cause He gave everybody Free Will—that includes the Free Will to lie their asses off, or write a book that everybody's gotta follow. And He sure as shit ain't been down here makin' sure you know what's fact and what's fiction, has He? Not in a few thousand years. Ain't that right? Can't even send a single archangel down to sound a trumpet or two. Can't throw a bone to the most faithful an' obedient. Nah, He just watches y'all fight and war and die in the name of whatever religious differences ya might have. Makes y'all suffer. Then it all ends, and what? You get judged by whether ya wore mixed fabrics or not? Oh, so then ya violated the contract. Then He ain't gotta pay up. Then He can shuffle ya down to Satan an' let ya burn for all of eternity."
Beth was silent, her heart still resting somewhere down in her guts. She wasn't sure how to make an argument against this. She didn't have her daddy's expertise.
Merle chuckled, receiving all the answer he needed from the expression on her face. "Yeah. He's a grifter alright. Damn good one at that. He's been sellin' y'all snake oil since the Beginning of Time, darlin'. And y'all just keep payin' for it, keep injecting it straight into yer veins. Y'all keep hopin' it'll finally cure that cancer. But there ain't no cancer to be cured… 'Cept the One that put us here."
Beth licked her lips and drew in a deep breath. She steadied her eyes with Merle's, saw the glittering malevolence lying in their icy blue depths. And she knew he was speaking from the heart. She knew he genuinely believed the things he was saying.
And who was she to tell him he was wrong? She sure as hell didn't know. Even with her newfound Gift and all the knowledge it brought, it didn't answer the biggest questions. She still couldn't argue theology like her dad could.
She started uncertainly, her voice soft, "That's a pretty nihilistic point of view to hold, even for an atheist."
"Who said I was atheist?" Merle objected. "You seen what I seen. How the hell could I keep thinkin' there's nothin' after death when I'm standin' here, dead as fuck, talkin' to you about God? I know there's somethin' more. I know lots'a things now. I'm just sayin' it's bullshit."
"Okay," Beth conceded. "That's fair. I'm sorry. But it's still nihilistic, to say the least. Just because you've read the book doesn't mean—"
She was interrupted by a sudden knock at the door, followed by her brother's voice calling to her from right outside the bedroom.
"Beth! You ready yet? We gotta get started. Hurry up, ya diva!"
Beth snapped her lips shut and gave Merle a look that said 'we'll finish this later.' Then she called out, "Yeah, I'm comin'! Hold on a second!"
"Who're you talkin' to in there?" Shawn called.
She stood up from her bed and crossed the bedroom in three long strides, whipping open the door to find her brother standing right in front of her. "Nobody," she said. "And you don't need to yell. I can hear you just fine."
Shawn furrowed his brow and took a step back. He glanced past her shoulder and into the bedroom, searching for someone he wouldn't be able to see. Merle was cackling from where he stood in front of the bedside table.
"I heard you havin' a full-blown conversation," Shawn said, meeting Beth's eyes and giving her a once-over full of suspicion. "Were you on the phone or somethin'?"
"Yeah, I was," she lied. "And it was a private conversation. Why're you so concerned with who's calling me?"
He rolled his eyes and turned to start heading for the stairs. "I'm not. Stop bein' so defensive and just hurry yer ass up. I'm headin' down to meet Dad and Daryl at the barn."
"Alright, I'm comin'," Beth told him. Then she glanced back at Merle.
"We ain't done here, ya know," the dead Dixon said, quickly following her out the bedroom door and down the stairs. "I still got a lotta points to make—like that Revelations part in the Bible. What the fuck's up with that shit? You expect me to believe God created His own antagonist, an' set up all this elaborate fuckery, just to defeat the dude in some kinda half-assed, predictable battle between good and evil? Should be a spoiler warning at the start'a that chapter. What about those of us who wanna be surprised by how the apocalypse goes down?!"
When Beth reached the barn, Merle trailing hot on her heels and still rambling on about theological theories, Daryl was leaning against the doors with a burning cigarette in his hand. Shawn led the way around back, where they had the old farm truck with a flatbed trailer attached to it waiting to be loaded with bales of hay from throughout the field beyond.
Beth caught Daryl right before they went following after her brother.
"Hey," she said, keeping her voice low so Shawn couldn't hear. "I'm sorry about my brother, I—"
"Don't be," Daryl grunted out. He quickly turned and began walking around to the back of the barn, noticeably brushing her off.
She sighed and followed. Merle laughed obnoxiously from behind her.
"What'd I tell ya, blondie? Kitty's got claws. Best watch yer step, 'less ya wanna get scratched."
Daryl Dixon is not a stray cat, she told herself. Nor is he a turnip. He's just a man. And he's my friend. And I'll figure him out, one way or another. I'll save his stupid, stubborn soul, no matter what. Even if he doesn't want me to…
She glanced back at Merle. Saw his smug grin and the amused spark in his eyes.
Maybe I'll save his stupid, doomed brother too, while I'm at it, she thought. Just to prove that I can.
to be continued…
A/N: Credit is owed to the novel Horns by Joe Hill. There's a section called the "fire sermon" in that book that gave me the inspiration for Merle's opinions in this chapter. (If you haven't read Horns, do yourself a favor and check it out. Especially if you like weird, supernatural, questioning-religion stuff with a side of tragic romance.)
