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“There’s a new religion forming in Silicon Valley,” Joe calls out from his seat by the tv. Nicky’s half way through boiling a pot of coffee and thinks about what Joe is actually saying. By the time the coffee is done he carries both their mugs into the tv room and offers Joe his.
“That’s a cult,” he explains at last.
Joe looks up from his computer screen with a small frown.
“Is there a difference?” he asks frankly.
If anyone else asked him that Nicky’s hackles would raise, but because it’s Joe he rolls his eyes and sits down. Hundreds of years of debating the philosophical merits of religion and the world still threw new things at them. It wasn’t that they both didn’t see the good and bad of religion, they’d fought in holy wars against each other after all, it was just the divine was fascinating to them after having being raised in such equally zealous societies.
Nicky reaches his hand out to Joe and Joe takes it without looking. They fit, perfectly, they always do.
“A cult,” Nicky says after some consideration and a sip of coffee, “is defined by the number of participants it has.”
“So all religions are cults until they become popular?” Joe counters, then, “So a big cult is just a new religion.”
On principle Nicky would like to argue, but there’s something to the logic that’s sound. Even after all this time language is limited in its capacity to express the complex.
Nicky sips his coffee some more and Joe scrolls through news pages reading bits and pieces.
“Do you want to go?” Nicky finally asks, and Joe smiles at him. The question is worth it for the response.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Joe says, pleased and smitten. Nicky is happy at the display, and nods his head at the computer.
“When do we leave?”
Finding the cult in the middle of Silicon Valley is a slight challenge but Joe is determined and Nicky only too happy to indulge, so after some time they find their right leaflets, get an invitation, borrow a car, and drive out to a wooded estate with ‘no trespassers’ signs hung from every post and high-tech security cameras that follow their every move.
“Nice place,” Joe mumbles as they enter the gravel driveway.
“You wanted to be here,” Nicky replies and smiles tightly when another car passes them going the other direction.
Joe reaches for his hand and Nicky gives it. It’s a little awkward for driving, but the car’s an automatic and Nicky would not deny Joe anything.
Founder Greg greats them at the car park, and Joe curls his arm over Nicky’s shoulders and smiles bright and joyfully at the man. He’s in jeans, sneakers, and a loose white top that looks a bit like a short night gown but has a designer label on the outside by the hem.
“Guys!” Founder Greg greets and claps them on the shoulders, “What can I do for you?”
Nicky leaves the talking to Joe who laughs and compliments the man before explaining that they’re there to join. Founder Greg takes it in stride, walks them inside the complex and greets everyone they pass by name.
Nicky squeezes Joes hip in reprimand for dragging him into this, and Joe kisses his cheek and keeps smiling.
“The water’s not clean,” Nicky says in absolute horror on their second day.
“What?” Joe is reading a pamphlet on greater living and looking like a brooding mess against the stark white everything of their room.
“They drink creek water,” Nicky holds up his own pamphlet titled ‘The Health Benefits of Raw Water’. Joe’s expression compresses then relaxes.
“It’s only for a few days,” he apologises, and Nicky reminds the man that he loves him dearly, but it is a trial sometimes. They don’t always have clean water, but there’s a difference between having to drink what’s available to you, and going out of your way to drink unfiltered creek water.
“Maybe the difference between a religion and a cult is that cults are too stupid to last long,” Nicky theorises and Joe is inclined to agree.
The group wedding happens on the Thursday because it's the day with the ‘lowest turnover’ Founder Greg tells them all as he stands in the middle of the round. It’s a bring-your-own partner kind of affair, and if you don’t have one one is randomly assigned to you. Nicky and Joe cling to each other’s hand and smile through the formalities.
“And that,” Founder Greg says after a lengthy speech about growth, and harmony, and immortality through vitamins, “makes it official. You’re married everyone.” He claps at all the couples standing about, hands clasped and dressed in jeans and t-shirts and slowly the crowd starts to clap with him, the volume rising as the crowd gets into it. Joe and Nicky forgo clapping to kiss sweetly.
“You big softy,” Nicky murmurs against his lover’s lips and feels the curl of Joe’s smile in reply.
“I told you,” Joe kisses him again lingering, “I will swear my devotion to you in every religion on this earth for the rest of eternity.”
Nicky’s heart swells at the promise again, at the fulfilment of it again, but he still says, “It’s still a cult,” but he’s not objecting. This is another crowd, another belief system that has witnessed their endurance, their love, and that is worth everything.
When Joe pulls back he’s dreamy eyed and content and Nicky is in love again.
“Do you want to get a burger and fries?” Joe asks, and Founder Greg who is passing through the couples congratulating them all pauses.
“Fast food will hinder your access to immortality by rotting your cells,” he says looking concerned. “Have you had trouble with the reading material?”
Nicky takes a backseat and lets Joe go. They might have been married in a lot of religions, but they’d also been kicked out of them. They’d started with their own.
Joe stares Founder Greg in the eye and says, “No, we’re leaving. Because this cult is bullshit and you can’t become immortal by taking your vitamins and drinking piss infested creek water.”
Founder Greg’s facade of pleasantness nearly evaporates, and only the shocked noise of a nearby disciple seems to still him.
“But thank you for the wedding.” Joe finishes much more politely. Then he takes Nicky’s hand and leads him to the car.
“Burgers?” Nicky checks.
“I know a place,” Joe says promises, “they say eating there is like meeting god,” and that’s a good enough recommendation for Nicky.