Skepticism

"I want to sponsor your podcast," the institute's lead scientist told him. "And I want to hook up you up with some very well-known people in both the Intelligent Design community as well as a few folks who think ID is bunk but see the problems with neo-Darwinism that you do."

He handed Brandon a list of people he recognized immediately, and most shocking of all was seeing their phone numbers next to their names.

"They're not personal numbers," the older man explained with a laugh. "But they'll get you to their secretaries, and I'll let them know to expect your call."

Brandon thanked him sincerely then asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"When I was your age, I believed everything my teachers, and later my professors, told me. Later on, when I began questioning those things, I was too afraid to speak out. In fact, I was let go from my lab in Cambridge, and although I was never told anything more than that they 'needed space', I know it was because my views were getting out. I admire your boldness. Your style needs work, and you have a lot more to learn, but I essentially agree with a lot of what you're saying."

"Most, sir?" Brandon asked.

The man laughed then said, "I'm a Christian. I believe in God, the Bible, and the resurrection. You don't, and that's okay. I'm a huge believer in free speech, and I want more of it—not less—especially on our college campuses. So I'm offering you this amount of money in exchange for exclusive advertising rights on your podcast. Oh, and I will never tell you what to say or how to say it if you accept my offer."

He pushed another piece of paper across the desk, and when Brandon turned it over and saw the amount he gasped.

"This...this is..."

"A lot of money?" the man said with a laugh.

"Yes. A whole lot."

"You'll probably lose some listeners when they find out we're sponsoring you. Are you okay with that?"

"I...I think so," Brandon began.

"You can tell your audience you don't necessarily support us, and that should mitigate a lot of the anger, but people are very emotional about these kinds of things. You'd think with science it wouldn't be that way, but trust me—it is."

"No, I...I've seen that already in my very limited experience," Brandon told him.

"Once we develop a worldview, it's nearly impossible to change it. There are exceptions, of course, but as a general rule, we humans tend to be very stubborn and fiercely defend our beliefs once we settle on them."

"I agree with you there, too. Sir."

"So...do we have a deal?" the man asked.

"Can I have a day to think about it?"

"Take the entire weekend, Brandon. Or longer if you need it. Talk to your parents. There's no rush. Just let me know, either way."

They stood up, shook hands, and Brandon walked away, his head swirling with the offer and all that it entailed.

He did tell his parents, but neither of them were overly excited. Bursting at the seams to share this good news of his, Brandon did something on the spur of the moment without even thinking.

He nearly lost his nerve when he pulled into her apartment complex, but his need to talk to someone he knew, and even more importantly, someone he knew who would care, drove him onward.

At her apartment door, a place he'd seen her at several times on his way to school, he took a deep breath then knocked, not knowing if she was even home yet.

"Just a second!" he heard her voice say as his level of nervousness increased.

The door opened, and a very surprised Ms. Traxler said, "Brandon? Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Everything's fine. I just needed someone I can trust to talk to. If this is a bad time, I can..."

Still very concerned, Monica told him to please come in.

"Are you sure I'm not bothering you?" he asked as she closed the door.

"Positive," she told him with a smile before asking if he'd like something to drink.

"No thanks. I'm fine."

"Okay then. Please have a seat and tell me what's on your mind," Monica said as she showed him where to sit.

"First, I apologize for showing up uninvited. I just didn't know who else to turn to."

"It's okay, Brandon. If I can help, I'm happy to do so."

Trying to be succinct and not waste his teacher's time, he told her about the meeting he'd just had.

"That's wonderful!" she replied in a very upbeat way before asking, "Or is it?"

"Well, yes. It's actually incredible. It's...life changing."

"But?"

"I don't know what the 'but' might be. And my dad isn't the best person to talk to about these kinds of things anymore."

"What about your mom?"

"She's great, but she's uncritically supportive. If I tell her it's great news, she'll agree and that'll be it."

"So are you asking me for advice?" Monica gently asked.

"Yes. Or maybe I just needed a sympathetic ear," Brandon told her as he also smiled.

"Do you think it would help me offer better feedback if I knew about the dynamic at home?"

"Oh, wow. That's a long story I'm sure you don't want me to bore you with. I mean, it's the start of a long weekend, and you undoubtedly have plans."

He smiled again then said, "Or more likely...a date."

Now Monica smiled then laughed quietly.

"A date. No. Not hardly. And not really any plans. So my time is your time, Brandon."

For the next several minutes he explained how all this began starting with Hannah's death and leading up to the interview.

"First, let me say how truly sorry I am. I can't even imagine how difficult that was for both you and your parents."

"It changed all of us. You know what happened to me, but it kind of, I don't know, hollowed out my mom and dad. They still cling to The Church and its teachings, and I suppose they still believe them just as strongly as ever, but things are...different."

He looked down at the floor for a second, looked back up at his teacher then said, "And I'm sure I'm responsible for a whole lot of that."

"Do you blame yourself?"

"Yes and no. I do in the sense that I've disappointed them both so much, but not in the sense that I'm not responsible for their lives, decisions, or their happiness. It's not that I don't care because I do. I care a lot. But I have to be true to myself first, right?"

"I think that's true," Monica told him. "Parents tend to have an ideal in mind for us when we're born, but many of us don't conform to their expectations. Kids who tell their parents that they're gay is a prime example. You know, no wedding, no grandkids."

"No traditional wedding and no biological children," Brandon politely offered.

Monica smiled, told him he was right about that, too, then asked if she could share something with him.

"Yes. Of course."

"You have this way of making me feel like...like you're the teacher and I'm the student."

She smiled, but Brandon felt bad and said, "I am so sorry. That has never been my intent, and if..."

"Brandon?" she said, cutting him off but smiling as she did. "It's not a bad thing, okay?"

"No?"

"No. Not at all. It just means I respect you. Yes, you're my student, but I didn't know any of things you do when I was your age. I was a good student—straight As as a matter of fact. But I had no...passion. I never read anything not assigned in class unless it was maybe a romance novel."

When she smiled again, Brandon did, too, and asked, "A true romantic?"

"Oh, yes. That's me. I keep holding out for my Prince on a White Horse, but I'm ready to settle for a really nice guy with maybe a fluffy, white dog, you know?"

The way she said it made Brandon laugh, but there no was no hint of ridicule.

"I have no idea what your life is like, so I won't say something cliche like 'it's hard to imagine such a beautiful woman not finding her Prince Charming', but that's kind of how it seems. Well, as an outsider looking in, anyway."

"I thought I'd found him, but it turned out he was really a frog...no, a toad...in princely robes," Monica said before realizing she was sounding bitter and apologizing.

"No need," Brandon told her. "I've never had my heart broken, but I can imagine how it feels if it's anything like losing my sister."

He paused then added, "And my faith."

"I know it's none of my business, but it seems like you've been very strong through all of this. I could easily see someone giving up and...turning to drugs or whatever as a kind of escape."

"Weightlifting has been my drug of choice," he told her with no hint of bragging.

"I have no business saying this, either, but the um...results of your um, drug abuse, are rather striking."

"Thank you," Brandon replied very sincerely. "As you may have already guessed, I tend to latch onto something like a Pitt Bull and don't let go. That's as true for weightlifting as it is for my skepticism."

"I noticed," his teacher replied very sweetly as she glanced down at his muscular chest before asking if she could ask something else personal.

"Sure. Anything."

"Why is it you don't have a girlfriend?"

Very quickly she said, "If that's too personal..."

"No. I meant it when I said you could ask me anything," he assured her before answering her question. "I've just been obsessed with everything faith-related and other hot-button issues like evolution, climate change, and Intelligent Design. So in my mind, having a girlfriend would make it very difficult to pursue them with the kind of passion that drives me. And, if she didn't share my passion, I don't see how that could ever even work."

"Okay. Fair enough. I was curious, and this isn't me just repaying your compliment, but you are quite possibly the best-looking student I've ever seen, and I know the girls are crazy about you."

Brandon laughed politely, shook his head, then said, "Thank you, and yes, more than a few of them have been um...rather direct in letting me know how they feel and um, what they'd like to you know..."

"Do with you?" Monica gingerly suggested.

"In a word—yes," Brandon replied with another small chuckle. "Or maybe do to me."

"And no one at school interests you at all?" she asked after laughing again.

Brandon looked down again then looked back at her before saying, "There is one person, but she doesn't know how I feel."

"Oh. Well, is there a reason you haven't told her? Beyond what you already said?"

"It's just...complicated," he replied.

"And yet something tells me you're smart enough to find a way to make the complicated much less so, Brandon," she told him with a very sweet smile.

Not sure how to reply, Brandon said, "I should probably be going. I've taken up far too much of your time."

"No. Not at all," Monica told him. "I'm just flattered you thought of me as someone you could trust. That means a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, Ms. Traxler," he told her before quickly saying, "as a teacher, of course."

Still not aware that she was the one 'person' who'd captivated his interest she told him, "Again, I'm flattered, but I'm also more than just your teacher. I'm your friend. You know that, right?"

"At one level, sure. But it's hard to separate that from everything else because you are my teacher," he told her honestly.

"Well, I am more than that, and anytime you...need a friend...I'm here for you, okay?" she told him just as sincerely.

"Thank you, Ms. Traxler. That really means a lot to me."

"You're a very unusual student, Brandon, and I suppose you're the first and only one I've ever thought of as more my...peer...than my student."

"I don't know about that, but I do know you're very special person, and I'm lucky to have you as my teacher."

He smiled at her then added, "And as a friend."

"Okay, we sound like we're in some kind of mutual admiration society or something here!" Monica told him with a chuckle.

Brandon chuckled himself then said, "True. But if we really mean what we're saying, I don't think it's just phony, mutual admiration."

Monica had to look away as he stared at her, and that's when Brandon told her again he should get going.

She showed him to the door then before opening it asked, "Did this help at all?"

"Yes. It helped a lot. You...you make me believe in myself, Ms. Traxler."

"You should, Brandon. And if I believe in you, shouldn't you believe in yourself?" she asked, a smile on her very pretty face.

Monica let go of the door handle for a second, and when she went to grab it again, Brandon did, too. His hand landed on hers for the briefest moment, but before he pulled it away, she looked at him.

"Sorry," he told her as he pulled his hand away.

"That's okay. It was an accident."

She started to open it when Brandon said, "Would it be okay...would it be, I don't know...weird...if I asked if I could hug you?"

"Oh. I...um...I don't think that would be any big deal. I mean, it's just a hug, right?" she told him as she let go of the door handle again.

She turned to face him and then they both raised their arms at the same time.

"Sorry," Brandon said as their arms collided.

"Here. You go ahead," she told him, waiting for him to hug her.

For some reason, Mrs. Renner's warning about Brandon Holtz came to mind, but for a different reason. As he held her, she put her arms around him, too, and she could quite literally feel the muscles in his back and see the huge 'traps' in his neck right in front of her eyes.

She'd never thought bodybuilders were sexy or even attractive, but Brandon was different. It wasn't his amazing body, and it was amazing. It wasn't just his handsome face, and it was very handsome. He was just such a well-rounded human being and so down to earth. And smart. And courteous.

And as he let go of her 2-3 seconds later, she thought, "And wonderful."

"That wasn't too weird, was it?" Monica asked, looking at him differently for the first time.

"No. It...it was nice," Brandon told her. "Really, really nice."

This time she opened the door, and when she did, he thanked her again for her time, and Monica told him he was very welcome.

From the moment he left until she fell asleep late that night, her mind was a swirling sea of conflict. Nothing had happened, no inappropriate physical contact had taken place, and yet she couldn't stop thinking about him in ways she'd never done about any student before.

Her thoughts were nothing more than PG-rated, but she'd never had ANY thoughts about ANY student before that weren't school related. So why couldn't she stop reliving their entire conversation and especially the very short, very platonic hug that happened just before he left?

And as her student drove home, Brandon knew he was going to accept the offer. Just talking with someone he trusted was all he'd needed. He also knew he was going to finish school and graduate in another month. He had no real idea what he might do after that, but he had every confidence things would somehow work out for the best.

By the end of the semester, all of Mrs. Renner's fears had proven unfounded. Brandon had rarely spoken in class and then only when called on. Monica had not only taught the module on evolution and climate change without interference, Brandon had taken the time to explain a few things to her she'd never heard of before. When he did, she finally asked him what a 'coordinated mutation' was and that led to a separate discussion on gene regulatory networks along with more information about how neo-Darwinists used them to explain problems at the cellular level by appealing to a higher level without ever explaining anything to which she'd responded, "Oh. I see."

Although she still believed she was right on both topics, she had a newfound respect for Brandon Holtz. She also didn't know whether he was all that well-informed on those subjects or if he'd simply adopted a mishmash of ideas he'd cobbled together to increase his podcast listening audience. But in the end it didn't matter because he was a very serious student and an extremely polite, well-mannered young man.

Three days before the Winter Break, Mrs. Renner called her back into her office. Expecting another warning about Brandon, she was surprised to learn he was graduating early.

"I had no idea," Monica told her principal.

"Well, now you know. And all I can say is good riddance."

The comment bothered Monica, and she sat up straight and said, "He's a very nice young man."

"He's a kook!" the older woman said. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out he's some kind of...fundamentalist, born-again nut job!"

"He was raised Mormon but no longer believes in God," Monica quietly replied.

"What? Then...how can he possibly be a science denier where two of the most settled questions in science are involved?"

"He...he doesn't...deny...anything," Monica said, again being very courteous. "He's just...skeptical. Of everything."

"Don't tell me you've fallen for his nonsense!" her principal said with a heavy dose of disdain.

"Did you know his sister died of cancer?"

Mrs. Renner's facial expression changed from disgusted to puzzled.

"What? No. I never heard that."

"That caused him to question his faith. Doing so drove him to question other issues. And he often says he doesn't know everything. He's just offering his opinion. And from having listened to his podcast this entire semester, they are very thoughtful opinions."

"You listen to that hogwash?" Mrs. Renner replied with venom in her voice. "What's next? Fox News?"

Unwilling to continue fighting a losing cause, Monica asked if there was anything else.

"No. That's all. I just wanted to share the good news with you, but you obviously have a very different take than I do."

Monica didn't reply. She just stood up and quietly left. On the way, she saw a large throng of students and knew who had to be at its center. She only smiled as she walked by, but somehow, Brandon saw her, and when he glanced her way she smiled.

Within a few steps, he was right beside and said, "Good morning."

"Oh. You scared me!" his teacher told him.

"Sorry. I thought you saw me."

"I did, I just had no idea you abandoned your...adoring admirers."

Brandon laughed then said, "I'd rather talk with you than anyone else in this school, so it was a no brainer."

He opened her classroom door for her, and when he did, Monica thanked him. As she stepped in front of him she told him about the conversation she'd just had with the school principal.

"It's true," he told her.

"Is that what you really want?" she asked him after setting her purse down.

"It is. In fact, you were the one who convinced me to do that. And accept the new sponsor."

"I actually figured that out," she told him with a smile. "I do listen to your podcasts, remember?"

"Sorry. Yes. I remember."

"So what are your plans?" she asked.

"I want to get a degree in biology," he told her.

"Wait. You want to go into the field you rail against the most?" his teacher asked, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Well, yes. I'm even thinking about graduate school so I can really dig into finding this third way."

Monica smiled then said, "Ah. Okay. Now this is making sense."

"I'll keep doing the podcast, and with this new sponsor, I'll be able to get by pretty well. Financially speaking."

"Really? That must be some sponsor," she told him.

"It's a biological institute here in the area, and the chief scientist also offered to pay my tuition if I agree to go to work there after I get my MS."

"You never cease to amaze me, Brandon. Of all the students I've ever taught, I've only met a handful who felt certain about what they wanted to do. Most leave high school with either no idea what's next or only a vague notion. And most of those with the vague notion are the ones who've been told all their lives they're going to college. Beyond that, they have no idea, either."

"I was told from the time I was old enough to understand that I'd be going on a mission for my church."