Page 83 of The Women of Wild Hill
“Phoebe,” she said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Phoebe. I assume you were an acquaintance of the late Senator Jacobs?”
She knew she should end the conversation and move on, but Wallace seemed so affable, so charming. It was hard not to like him.
“He was a friend of a friend,” Phoebe told him. “You?”
The man moved on to the next rosebush, this one with red and white blooms. He bent down, smelled one, and came up shaking his head in disappointment. “Josh and I broke bread on a few occasions, but at the end of the day, I was just another contributor to his campaign. He was very popular with my friends in the business community. Figured it might be a good idea to stop by and find out if anyone’s been picked to take his place.”
“Picked?” Phoebe asked. “I assumed there were would be an election.”
“Yes, but someone has to choose who will run. Lot of folks here aren’t willing to leave a seat that important to chance,” Wallace told her. “We get someone in office who thinks he’s the next coming of Ralph Nader, and it could mean billions for a company like mine. I got cattle to feed, salaries to pay, and stockholders who expect their dividends. I can’t afford to play games.”
This was an opportunity, Phoebe thought. Here was a man who might listen to reason.
“Why not lead the way?” she asked. “After everything that’s happened, surely the business community knows that today’s environmental practices aren’t sustainable. A corporation like yours could show others that it’s possible to thrive without leaving a barren planet for our children and grandchildren.”
Wallace chuckled. “I’m not sure why everyone expects business leaders to take charge of these things. I think I’ll do much more good for this country if I stay in my lane and leave education to the teachers and science to the scientists. Every generation faces its own challenges. The next group to take charge will just have to rise tothis challenge the way ours faced down the threat of nuclear annihilation.”
“That’s a pretty heavy burden to leave on our children, don’t you think?”
He gave her a funny look—amused but straddling the border of wary. “Did Josh Jacobs know his friends were hanging out with the green crowd?”
“I’m just playing devil’s advocate,” Phoebe assured him while silently chiding herself for moving too fast.
“You look like a very intelligent person, Phoebe, so I assume you know the truth. My children will be fine. I’ve spent my whole life making sure of that. It’s why I’m here now. And if you’re here, too, I got to assume you’re in the same boat.”
Phoebe wasn’t quite sure she understood what he was saying. “Our children won’t suffer because they’re rich?”
She could see in his eyes that something about the question had annoyed him. Somehow, she’d made a gaffe that had outed her as an impostor. “My children are rich because the Lord in his wisdom has chosen to favor us. They’ll be fine because they’re saved.”
“Right.” Phoebe couldn’t quite hide her surprise. “Of course. If the world ends, they’ll be raptured.”
He chuckled. “I’m not one of those types who’s cheering on the end of days,” he told her. “I believe that God, in his wisdom, is testing us. He wants to see where we choose to place our faith—in the science of men or in him. I choose God.”
Wallace bent over to smell a yellow rose. He drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sighed with pleasure. “Ah, now that’s magical.” He turned his head toward her and opened his eyes. “Give this one a whiff and tell me this wasn’t sent straight from heaven.”
The fragrance was lovely, but Phoebe found it hard to focus. “Divine,” she pronounced. Then she waited. Longer than she wantedto but likely not long enough. “So you’re saying we don’t need to do anything about the climate?”
Wallace offered a tight smile. He’d clearly hoped the conversation had reached its end. “You’ve got to remember, God gave man dominion over the earth. Later, he sent Jesus to weed out the unfaithful. Then he chose to bless the best Christians with the power and material wealth we need to lead the other men. What everyone else should do is follow.”
“Wealth is a sign of God’s favor.” Phoebe phrased it as neither a question nor a statement, but something in between.
“Certainly, and it’s a huge responsibility,” Wallace told her. “Before I make any decision, I ask the Lord what he wants me to do.”
“Does he ever ask you to make a sacrifice for the greater good?” Phoebe asked him. “Maybe put some of your profits into making the world a better place?”
“He asks me to worship him and live by his laws. As long as I do that, I can have faith that whatever I do is for the greater good. Every decision I make has his stamp of approval.”
“So your company’s new operations in the Amazon rainforest—all the clear-cutting that upset those protesters—God gave you his stamp of approval for that?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Wallace told her. “He and I had a long chat about it, and he told me to have faith in his goodness. You know it’s sad, Phoebe. So many people look to science for salvation when all they have to do is trust in the Lord.”
“A lot of those people are going to die if humankind doesn’t take action to keep the world habitable.”
He turned to her with the radiant smile of the blessed. “Has it ever occurred to you that the nations that will suffer the least are Christian nations? It can’t be an accident. God doesn’t make accidents. Europe, North America, parts of Australia. They are the ark on which the righteous will sail into a glorious future.”
“There are plenty of Christians who will be killed by climate change. You’re only concerned about the countries with large white populations?”
