‘Dude, what’s wrong?’
‘What?’
‘What’s wrong? You’ve been acting strange since yesterday. Even the Goth kid in 7th period is happier than you.’
Dan was looking at me, his brown eyes curious.
I looked at him for a second before replying, ‘People change.’
‘Yeah but normally it takes months or years to change. You changed like Clark Kent into Superman.’
‘Yeah well maybe I have my reasons!’ I shot back.
Before he could reply, I brushed passed him, pissed that someone would even ask such a question. It was none of his business. He just wouldn’t understand.
I continued walking until I was out of Dan’s sight, leaned against a nearby tree, and slumped to the ground. A sigh escaped my lips.
He was right though. I used to be happier.
I can remember the first day I came across it and the joy and warmth that filled me. I was always happy before, but finding it made me feel special and gave my life purpose. It made me elite.
It’s not everyday a kid finds a potato chip shaped like Jesus. If that’s not a message from God, then I don’t know what is.
It was like God was saying ‘Nathaniel, sorry for your mundane, shitty life of not getting girls! Here’s your very own Jesus potato chip!’
I was ecstatic.
For the next month and a half, that chip and I went everywhere. To school. To sporting events. Even to the grocery store (although we avoided the free potato chip samples since it’d be cruel for J.C to see his friends eaten.)
We were inseparable and I had my very own personal Jesus.
I casually pulled away from my thoughts, stood up, and began walking. Maybe I was over reacting. Dan was just trying to be a good friend. And it wasn’t mom’s fault that she’d stepped on J.C yesterday. That he’d shattered into little pieces and crumbs. Besides, I’d managed to get all the pieces, and despite the fact I couldn’t put them together again, maybe God was telling me to leave it in his hands.
I stopped at a patch of recently dug up earth and gazed at it.
‘Its ok buddy, only two more days and I know you’ll rise again.’
I crossed myself and walked away.
©Copyright 2008 by Travis Brantner
