The Apologists

Jennifer Gauvreau

Winner of the 2021 LSSU Short Story Prize

John couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t believe in Option A. He believed in it like he believed in the oxygen passing through his lungs. The belief was a quiet smouldering fire, not calling attention to itself, but remaining alite even in the darkest of times. It was a comfort, and as he grew older, it became more and more important to him. John wasn’t the type of person who would bring up Option A unprovoked, but when the situation arose naturally (and somehow, it often did seem to arise naturally), he was always eager to discuss it. It was hard for him to empathize with folks who believed in anything other than Option A. How did they not see what he saw, and feel what he felt? It was bizarre to him, and even a little upsetting.

Cindy hadn’t given much serious thought to the Options until she was in university. Her family rarely discussed them at all, putting them far off in their minds. On the scattered occasions when they did discuss the Options, it was from the perspective of an outsider, trying to guess at the inner workings without spending the effort required to understand. This laissez faire attitude would have continued to her dying breath, had she not taken the formidable step of furthering her education of her own volition. After countless hours of independent reading, studying, and discussing the Options with her classmates, Cindy was surprised to find that she did in fact believe in Option B. This was a stunning and indelible revelation to her, and significantly changed the course of her life.

Growing up, John’s world revolved around the Options, specifically Option A. His mother had been a teacher who specialized in Option A, traveling and giving impassioned talks on the subject to avid believers and skeptics alike. He admired his mother above all others and wished to one day follow in her footsteps. Unfortunately, John’s academic skills were not nearly as strong as his mother’s and following a brief stint in college, John had no choice but to take up work in a local factory. As he toiled away in his repetitive daily tasks, he spoke to anyone who would listen to him about the unchanging, faithful security of Option A. Eventually this off the cuff teaching turned into a real passion for John, and when the factory closed, he decided it was time to pursue his true ambitions. Being unqualified to teach in any legitimate capacity, John dreamed up a way to teach about Option A on his own terms– he would open a museum. After many months of planning, fund raising, and making important social connections, John was pleasantly surprised to find himself poised to open his museum to Option A within a year of his leaving the factory.

Upon discovering her passion for Option B, Cindy was overcome with an urgent desire to share what she knew with children. She felt that her family and primary schools had done her a great disservice, never pushing her to understand the Options as a younger child, and she wondered how much further along in her studies she would be had she begun that much sooner. Option B was exciting, never remaining exactly the same for long, and beckoning thinkers and mental engineers. Cindy was a captivating entertainer, and loved to make people laugh. It was a natural progression for her to become a travelling performer, delighting audiences of all ages with her knowledge and passion for Option B. Before long, Cindy was a well known woman, and people all around the world connected with her, encouraging her to continue in her work. She was criticized by the followers of Option A, but paid them little mind. To Cindy, they were the spreaders of misinformation. With Option A’ers in charge, the country would surely fall to ruin.

While he expected some pushback from the supporters of Option B, John was fully dedicated to his mission. In his museum he could showcase all of his important research about Option A in such a way that would be compelling to children and also educational for adults. He used his modest knowledge of Option B to set up exhibits and entertaining shows that would cater to the preferences of the believers of Option B, and also to those who had not really taken a stance one way or another. The museum brought John into the public eye, and he was even met with harsh criticism from the very people he had hoped to connect with. This was confusing to John, and he considered what he might do to quell their worries and prove that he was interested in discussion, and not out to attract blind followers. He had proof to support his beliefs, and he simply wanted to be heard.

A few months following the opening of John’s museum, after thoughtfully holding her tongue for a time, Cindy felt it was necessary to offer an opinion about it. She took to social media, penning her concerns in language that would appeal not only to her fans, but also to academics and politicians. In her post, Cindy outlined in no uncertain terms the folly of raising a generation of thinkers in the dogma of Option A. She felt that John’s museum was in fact doing harm to the future leaders of the world, and that the extrapolated fallout would be a society which was weaker as a whole. While this subject was gravely serious to Cindy, her sense of humour and wit gave the broadcast enough levity to resonate with the masses. Much to her delight, Cindy’s brief but pointed commentary quickly went viral.

That same day, John’s phone went berserk with calls, messages, and comments– everyone wanted to know what he thought of the harsh comments Cindy had made. He was determined to respond quickly, passionately, but with a level head. In a vlog posted just days later, John was quick to dispute all of Cindy’s points, and thought he did quite a good job of it. At the close of his video, John extended an invitation to Cindy to participate in a debate about the Options which was to take place at his museum. Not long after his video was posted, the Associated Press picked up the story. He suddenly had the attention of the nation, and vowed to himself that he would not squander it. John did not expect to get a positive response to his invitation, and was surprised when Cindy agreed to debate live on stage at the museum. A date was set, and the apologists had a month to prepare.

Cindy’s preparation for the debate was all-consuming for the entirety of that month. She conferrened with experts from around the globe, who not only bolstered her own belief in Option B, but provided her with additional logical evidence that she could easily explain to any child or layman in the audience. Cindy felt very confident that any thinking man or woman would come away from watching the upcoming debate believing that the only cogent Option was in fact Option B. She did her best to predict the so-called evidence that would be presented by John, and came up with counters for every potential argument she could think of. While she prepared, Cindy was barraged with messages of support from disciples of Option B. Having the support of what was undeniably the vast majority of interested parties was a source of confidence for Cindy. This confidence was of course a mixed blessing, as it mingled with a dangerous pride as well.

John’s preparations were much less involved. He had known that Option A was the only true possibility his entire life, and knew he could rely on his lifetime of study. He felt confident that debating inside his museum would bring legitimacy to his position, and spent much of his preparation time sprucing up the place. He vigorously promoted the upcoming event, and used it as an opportunity to raise awareness of his museum on a national level.  

The night before the debate, Cindy made a guest appearance at the university that was near the museum.  Following her presentation, she asked some students congregated in the library what they thought about the Options, and if they were coming to the debate. Most of the students said that they were not going to attend, and that they were disinterested in the museum. Nearly all of the students she spoke with were believers in Option B, although they did not think about it all that much. They told Cindy that focus on the Options felt like a waste of time when term papers were due, and parties were happening. Cindy fell asleep wondering if she might be wasting her time, but woke up the next morning with fresh purpose. The Options were important, and this debate was going to give her an opportunity to demonstrate that fact. Cindy was increasingly sure that Option A was doing more harm than good, especially to young learners.

John spent the night before the debate practicing feverishly with his wife. She eventually grew irritated and flustered by John’s mental distress and told him that if he wasn’t ready now, he never would be. Left to his own thoughts, John lamented squandering most of his preparation time, and he suddenly felt like he had made a mistake. Why had he invited one of his loudest critics into his home space? His doubt turned to nervous fear as the night grew darker, and as his wife drifted off to sleep he briefly considered calling the whole thing off. It wasn’t that he doubted his position. Option A was clearly, clearly, the true Option. He knew that his arguments were sound, and based on the most credible of sources. Even though he was sure, in his heart of hearts there was in fact a seed of doubt. This doubt was not formed enough to even be put to words, but lingered in the corner of his mind nonetheless. The popular opinion was that he was flat out wrong about the Options, and this constant discouragement was at times difficult to bear. His nerves stayed with him the next morning, but were instantly brushed off the moment he arrived at the museum. As the leader of the institution, he was in the habit of exhibiting confidence at every opportunity, and this habit was a source of strength for him on this important day.

From backstage, Cindy watched the audience slowly filter into the auditorium of the museum. She had taken a guided tour of the place a few hours before, squinting through the flashes of the many cameras following the tour group’s path throughout the establishment. Cindy was quite pleased with the amount of media attention the debate was drawing, but also worried that she was lending her own credibility to John and his misguided Option A associates. As she watched the modestly dressed attendees taking their seats, she realized that while she held the more popular belief worldwide, in this room – John’s room – she was vastly outnumbered. This wasn’t a surprise to Cindy, but the extent to which it rattled her nerves was indeed surprising. She reminded herself that she was armed with the truth, and that this was an opportunity to speak to an audience that had likely never engaged in earnest thought regarding the possibility that Option B might be viable. She hoped to at the very least bring this unusual audience to a place where they might question the origins of their faith in Option A. Cindy reviewed her opening statement as the time to begin drew nearer, but the review wasn’t necessary. She was ready.

John paced backstage as he waited for his cue to walk on stage. His mind was in a thousand places as he worried about the details of hosting, the importance of this discussion, and the points he wanted to make sure he got to in the debate. He felt that the stakes were higher for him than they were for Cindy, and wondered just how many people he could bring into the fold of Option A with this event. This was debate, not dialectic– there would be no winner, and there was little chance that hearts and minds would be changed this night. Was it all for nothing? John’s familiarity with the precepts of Option B brought little comfort, as he knew that his opponent was the better entertainer and speaker. He was going to have to outperform and out-fact her, and this was a daunting task to say the least.

Throughout the debate, Cindy’s assistant was pleased to witness the undeniable success of Cindy’s rhetorical repartee. The talking points they had painstakingly chosen, refined and polished came across clean, professional, and seemed to give a figurative whiff of formalin.  The assistant was not surprised that Cindy kept her cool throughout the debate, never visibly sweating, even under the hot stage lights. This was of course largely attributed to Cindy’s career in show business, and the practice and preparation went a long way. Compared to her opponent, Cindy looked steady as a surgeon– never wavering, faltering, or showing any signs of discomfort in the scrutinous gaze of the audience below. The assistant fleetingly wondered if Cindy was listening to John at all, or if she was simply listening for the key phrases and words they had planned rebuttals for. John was holding his own, but the assistant did not suspect that Cindy was seeing it.

In the audience, a wealthy donor to the museum had a very keen eye on the room at large. The donor had been absolutely nonplussed at the idea that John would hold such a debate in the establishment, and in private conversation had warned him that the event could lead to a decline in attendance in the months to follow. He was pleasantly surprised though, as he sat through the two hour spectacle. The room was quietly, politely, but undeniably energized by the conversation taking place before them. John was decreeing Option A with a brilliant combination of exemplary representation of its tenets and a non-stop entertaining air of persiflage. The balance in John’s performance won over the donor, and he came to believe that the debate had been a good idea after all.

***

At the close of the debate, Cindy was sure that she had done a better job than John had. She had answered every question, proved every point, and even made the somewhat uneasy crowd laugh a few times– each of these were important to Cindy. Immediately after the debate, a throng of media spokesmen were eagerly awaiting comment from Cindy. They were accompanied by a modest collection of protesters representing Options C and D who felt that they had been thoughtlessly and unjustly left out of the conversation altogether. They carried signs and shouted about their protest, but not loud enough to be picked up by the microphones and cameras aimed straight at Cindy. She gave a very brief statement about how she felt she had done quite well – wholly ignoring the protesters – and quickly sought out privacy to collect her thoughts properly. Later in her hotel, she made a conscious decision to neglect the many messages she had received offering congratulations and condemnations, depending on the affiliation of the corresponder. The debate had been exhausting and truly eye-opening. Believers in Option A were absolutely participating in willful ignorance, and it was profoundly disturbing to Cindy. She worried most for the children who were being raised with the Option A worldview, and marveled at just how much this Option had set humanity back in the past, and continued to do so in the present.

Meanwhile, John was equally sure that he had done the better job. He had leaned into his undoubtable familiarity with the facts of Option A, breathing deeply as one does at the scent of old books. The audience had been very receptive to his message, and had asked truly thoughtful questions that led him to demonstrate the awesome power of Option A. His nerves turned to boldness when his opening statement received a raucous round of applause, and he was momentarily misty-eyed at the onset of such support. As he parried and jabbed through the debate, he believed more and more in his cause and in his proof, and so did the audience. It was a cathartic experience for him, and he came out of the debate certain that it had not been a mistake to engage in this discourse, despite his earlier worries. He felt that there was a decent chance that he had reached a good number of people outside of the auditorium through online viewership, and expected to see attendance at his museum to rise in the coming weeks. As he waited inside for Cindy to finish her comments to the press, John looked on at the protesters and wondered if they would have found truth in Option A had they just listened to him.