Chapter forty one
When I was a kid, I was usually taught to connect good with God and the heavens, while everything bad came from the devil or the pit of hell.
Mostly all kids were made to believe that.
However, as we grew older, we got to learn that if God was all loving and powerful, then, he could stop evil.
Doubts arose; we'd go through tough times and expect him to descend from heaven and come save us.
And when he didn't, even more doubts arose. As for me, any ounce of faith I might have had got quenched when I lost Mr Allendro. Why? Had I expected him to live forever? No?
I wasn't sure. But, here was how I'd viewed things; if there was a being up there willing and able to stop evil, but never actually did it, then why call him God?
We had those questions race our minds now and then, without answers legit enough to nullify them. People said God knew best.
Cut the crap talk and tell me what was so "best" about losing my entire family!
St Eugene's was pretty much one of those places Emily would love to visit; historical, medieval. The stone pillars reached high up to touch the beams, mostly all of it was formed out of grey bricks, except for the windows made with stained glass.
Anyone who knew me would go for an eye check-up if they saw Jeffery Thompson limping through the doorway of a church on his own.
As I did, I took in a pound of air. It smelled of candles, stone, incense, all together sending a painful sensation through me. The never ending rows of pews were gladly empty and clean, something I'd cared to notice while moving along the center aisle.
From aetheist, I turned agnostic after I'd survived that accident. I thought, maybe there was a God; he spared me.
But then, another part of me asked why he hadn't spared Max. By then, I tried to accept that bad things just happened without reason, until minutes earlier when Simon told me Noah was alive.
What was that even supposed to mean? I saw him die! Or did I?
If he was alive, where had he been for sixteen years without caring to come back to me? Or was I just a burden he wanted to let go?
I suddenly wished he was truly dead. Had all four victims of mine been innocent?
These questions and more made me crazy. My eyes were heavy from crying all through my drive here.
This wasn't happening!
Finally, I reached the front row and glared straight up at the crucifix hanging upon the brick wall. I still felt sick from everything. Mr Allendro's words had haunted me ever since.
We all have our fair share of pain and bad luck, but the truth remains. I've never seen the righteous regret following the path he laid for us. Just let go…test it and gain peace.
Peace…all I'd been wishing for this bloody time! I'd expected it to drop in a gift box from heaven and unto me like rain. It had only dawned on me minutes ago that you could not feel peace without forgetting everything else.
My joints buckled from the numbing pain in my feet, and abruptly, I'd surrendered to my knees as my bones weakened.
All the while, I kept my eyes high upon the statue. Saviour, my foot. Where was He when Uncle tortured us day and night? Where was He when people died unjustly?
Working in mysterious ways? Where was He when I'd killed innocent people when Noah was very much alive?
When the load upon my chest became too much to handle, I screamed into nothingness, hearing my own yell echo across the vast, empty space of the church.
That was when I understood I was not alone.
"It happens to the best of us, friend," said a calm, steady voice from closely behind me.
Out of pure shock, I faced the direction of the sound. Apparently, seated on the first pew behind me was a Priest clothed in a brown vestment. Maybe, a monk. I wasn't sure of the difference. There I was wondering why I hadn't seen him before.
"It happens to the best of us," he repeated, his understanding eyes meeting mine.
Wiping my face, the first hunch that came to me asked me to ignore him. He's one of the self proclaimed righteous ones who just wanted a new recruit into their church by vain, spiritual and deceitful talk
Until he said. "Come, sit here. A confession should make you feel better."
The easiness with which he'd said it made me laugh. He didn't understand, nobody did! "Oh, I'm not here for a confession, I need answers! You think you can give me that?"
He smiled lightly, rising to his feet afterwards. Slowly, he came towards where I was knelt and did same right by my side.
"I'm listening," he shrugged and stared straight up at the coloured paintings on the glass.
By then, I tried to catch my breath, to wipe my face even more and clam my nerves. Lowering my gaze to the stone floor, I sniffed. "Why do these things always happen? Why is there pain? Loss? Destruction? I've shed blood of innocent people in the name of getting revenge for the death of my brother. Guess what happened half an hour ago," I felt laughter erupt from me before I could hold it back. "I heard he's alive. It's ironic how I now wish he weren't."
I remember the day I killed Jake. He'd told me he was innocent, that he'd done nothing. But I…
"Life's a mess, yunno," the tears resumed as my pitch heightened. "The good ones fade away like they worth nothing while people like me get spared over and over again. I've lost everything I held dear to me! I'm confused…I mean I don't even know why I came here…"
"Lets start with the part you lost your family, Jeff," he rushed his words without necessarily acting like he was speaking to me. And, there I was listening patiently.
Why? Because a part of me urged me to try this path that Noah, Mr Allendro, Anna and even Joey advised me to. That part of me told me why other paths had been totally wrong. I'd been acting on a drive of emotion; my heart.
This part came from my head, the result of events around me that strived to humble my thoughts to something more simple. Finding answers.
"You ran away…" he went on "…probably imagining you were cursed and all left alone. Look where it ended you, a shattered, rich boxer who runs a five-star gym. You don't still seem satisfied you got your dreams, do you?"