Chapter 23
Saturday had gone much better than expected, despite a massive hangover early in the morning. Kevin had woken up first, mostly because he’d had the least to drink the night before. He managed to get both Sean and I up, in the showers, and eating a breakfast of muffins that helped settle our very unsettled stomachs.
Sean and I stared at each other across the table until we both nodded in silent agreement that the things we’d said last night were past now. He’d gotten some stuff off his chest, and I’d apologized for something I’d done, or not done, two lifetimes ago. Mike Andrews had shown up a few minutes after we finished breakfast, and he had taken Sean into the living room to continue their debriefing while I’d gotten dressed in jeans and a casual dress shirt for my meeting with General Barstow and Colonel Marken.
After eating lunch with the two officers, and finishing up a very productive meeting, I went out to meet Sam and David, along with their father. Mr. Wells had commented that he and his wife wanted to head out of town to visit some relatives and wondered if it was okay for the twins to stay overnight. He even commented that they could go to church with me since their family hadn’t been going to services in a while.
Sean joined us for a game of basketball that afternoon. He wasn’t use to the altitude, and he was nowhere near as in-shape as us, but he still had better coordination than I did when it came to dribbling the basketball. Sam and David also made things easier by being very friendly towards Sean. I hoped that their interactions with Sean would show that things were different here than in Modesto and the past he remembered. That night we’d all sat around playing pool while Ridgeway had his date with Lisa Aldridge.
The twins slept with me in the large waterbed, and as had become something of a custom when we were all together, we jacked off before going to sleep. Having just spent a few days with Brian, I felt a little bit of guilt over it, but there was no contact between any of us, and that was enough of a difference for me. David’s occasional glances at me, though, reminded me that he still held some feelings for me and might get hurt once I started pursuing a relationship with Brian.
Sunday morning saw the return of my daily runs with the Special Forces guys still on the base. The entire run took place within the confines of the base this time. Kevin got me up early, leaving the twins to roll over and cuddle up against each other as I slid out from between them. Then I jogged with Kevin down to the Armory where everyone else was warming up. The sky had just begun to lighten over the Diamond peaks, and the base’s lights were still on, providing some illumination. Normally, I’d have warmed up by myself, but since I was here already, I joined the rest of the men in regimented warm-up exercises before we took off, in formation this time. We set a fast pace this morning as we headed south towards the giant radio telescopes and the observatory. As we approached the observatory, I realized why we were in formation this morning when we passed two squads of Marines going in the opposite direction. They were chanting as they ran, and Barfous, the Air Force sergeant leading the group today started up a chant of our own to counter the Marines attempts at making fun of us. Fortunately, there were no Marine Recon guys in the group this morning.
The sun was well above the horizon as we reached the Armory again. Everyone took quick showers before we headed off to the main cafeteria for food. I usually ate with them on the weekends, chatting about whatever was the topic of the day. Saturdays were normally the day I’d spar with some of them, or we’d shoot at the range, but I’d been too busy yesterday. After breakfast, I headed back to the house with Ridgeway, and we’d woken up the others who were still asleep. They had time for showers and a bowl of cereal before we piled into the Air Force sedan Kevin had procured for the trip to the church.
It was weird seeing Dad and Jenny come out of the house at the same time we pulled into the church parking lot. It was crowded, as I’d expected, and there were more cars and trucks pulling in behind us. With fifteen minutes to go before Sunday School started, I could tell that those who came just for the church service were going to be parking any place they could find in order to get inside what would likely be a packed house.
Sean was the last one out of the car, and moved rather hesitantly. He was dressed in a new pair of slacks and a light blue dress shirt that seemed to highlight the freckles on his face. He looked very apprehensive, and it had taken a lot of wheedling from me to get him to come today. David and Sam were also dressed in slacks and matching yellow dress shirts while I wore a full dark-blue suit with a black skinny tie (as was becoming fashionable here in the near-mid-eighties. Kevin was wearing slacks and a pastel green shirt that made my eyes cringe every time I looked at it. Dad and Jenny saw us as we were getting out of the car, and my sister ran towards us, her long blond hair flowing as she ran as fast as her paisley-covered blue dress allowed.
“Davey!” Jenny shouted in greeting as she all but jumped on me for a hug. “I didn’t think you’d be here! I miss you.”
“I miss you too, sis.” I said with a smile as I extricated myself from her hug. “How was California?”
“Sad.” Jenny said as she scrunched up her nose. “Everyone missed you and asked where you were.”
“I wish I could have been there.” I told her and she smiled at me. It was hard at times to remember she was twelve now, and not precisely an innocent little girl.
“Oh, Mom told me everything.” She whispered softly. “She’s still pissed at you, you know.”
“I know.” I said softly as a spike of worry hit me.
“Don’t worry about me.” Jenny said softly while Kevin shook Dad’s hand and started talking to him softly. David and Sam withdrew slightly, dragging Sean with them. They’d heard that last part and knew I’d want some privacy for this. It was weird, but in many ways they knew me better than Sean, who had been my friend for twenty years while he knew me better in other ways. “Davey, I don’t care about all that stuff Mom said, you’re still my brother.”
“Thank you, sis.” I said softly as a wave of relief washed over me. “You know you can’t tell anyone, right?”
“I know.” Jenny said with a sheepish smile. “So, can I come see you on the base?”
“Yes, but you’ll see me in school every day too.” I reminded her and she nodded. I put my arm around her, nodded at my friends and then we went to where Dad was talking to Kevin. “Welcome home, Dad.”
“I’m glad to see you, son.” Dad said as he broke off the conversation with Kevin and gave me a hug. Jenny moved away from me slightly to stand between Dad and I, just off to my left while Kevin stood across from her. “How were things out here while I was gone?”
“Not too bad.” I said with a shrug. “How was California?”
“All things considered, it was fairly good.” Dad said softly. “We purchased both houses. Your Uncle Phil did a good job being the spokesman for the news reporters again. Your mom stayed behind. They’re divvying up Nanny and Papa’s stuff between the kids still. She sent Jenny back with me so I’m pretty sure that she plans to come back once that’s done.”
“I hope so.” I said softly. Mom wasn’t dealing with this well at all, but then she’d always been very close to her mother.
“Why don’t you young men go ahead and go inside.” Dad said to my friends. “Jenny, show them to where the classes are for their ages. Davey, let’s go to my office.”
“Sure thing, Dad.” Jenny said. She was actually making eyes at Sean, who was slightly shorter than her, and actually looked closer to her age than mine. Dad led me off with a nod of his head. As we entered the church, he greeted a few of the members who were standing in the vestibule and then we headed off to the stairs. One of the adult Sunday school classes were beginning in the auditorium section, to the left of the pulpit. Dad’s office was a room off to the right at the far end, and we made our way there without further interruption. His desk inside was an old, oaken desk he’d inherited from the last pastor. The smallish room was also filled with several bookcases of bibles, bible study books, and other books on religion in general. There was also several comfortable chairs, one of which I sat in. His desk was against the right wall, so when he sat down, it wasn’t between us. He spun his chair easily and sat facing me with a grim expression.
“Son, I don’t know exactly how to say this, but your mom is really upset.” Dad said heavily. “She’ll be coming back, but she’s already said she doesn’t want to see you.”
“Is she going to close her eyes every time I walk by in the halls at school?” I asked him sarcastically. He frowned at me, telling me I was being juvenile with just his facial expression. I let out a sigh and admitted he was right. “Sorry, Dad. I’ll do my best to stay out of her way, and her line of sight, for a while.”
“I knew you’d understand.” Dad said with a soft smile. “Don’t worry son, she’s hurting right now. Once she’s had some time to think things through instead of just feeling her way through things, she’ll come around. You are her son and she loves you, even if right now she can’t remember that.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I said with a genuine smile as a weight lifted from my shoulders. I was worried that Mom wouldn’t change her mind, but he was right. When she calmed down she’d think about things rationally.
“Well, we also need to talk about some other things, and I’d like to get your input on them before the sermon today.” Dad continued, dragging my attention back to the present and not some future day when Mom and I reconciled. “A lot has been happening even before the events of last week, and they’re still happening now. You know I’ve been involved in the state’s Republican Party, right?”
“Yeah, and you might even be a delegate at the convention this year.” I answered. Dad had been getting more involved in politics over the last year. The fact that he was a Republican in farm country, where Democrats had traditionally held sway, and that he had a lot of popular support in our county was something the state Republican Party had been noticing, and I’d expected something would eventually happen.
“Well, last week they confirmed I’ll be a delegate to the national convention this year.” Dad said, and his smile told me that was not all they had said. “They also want me to run for the State Senate. Also, a week and a half ago, I had a meeting with the deacons. The deacons… well, you know church politics, son. They’re worried about some of the extra duties I’ve been doing, and I have to admit they had some good points. I don’t have the time like I did when we first moved out here. The base is taking up more of my time as their chaplain and we both know that until they assign a permanent chaplain out here that will continue to grow. Plus, the stuff in town with the land development for the trailer park, and that project you suggested for renovating the Opera House will take even more time.”
“So you’re looking at leaving the Pastorship?” I asked with a great deal of surprise. Dad nodded.
“If I win the seat in the State Senate, I just won’t have the time the church needs.” Dad admitted with a frown. “I’m not sure what to do here, son, and I thought you could give me some advice.”
“Have you talked about this with Mom and Jenny?” I asked him in order to stall for time to think about what he’d said.
“Yes.” Dad answered with a nod. “We talked about it out in California. Your mother has gotten to like the town, but she hates living all the way out here. She’d be happier living in town, she said. Jenny’s only concern was being able to get out to the Jerkins ranch and her horses. It’s on the school bus route so she can get out there after school the same as now, and either Mom or I can pick her up in the evening. I’m out at the base three days a week as it is, so she can go out there the same days and I’ll pick her up on my way home.”
“That really leaves the church, doesn’t it?” I asked him cautiously and he nodded. “What does your heart tell you, Dad?”
“It tells me that focusing the time I need on the church will just hold me back.” Dad answered with a sad frown. “I always thought that this is what I wanted, a good, solid church to nurture, but now I’m finding out that I’m good at a lot of things, including politics.”
“The State Legislature doesn’t pay much, and while the extra money from the work as base chaplain helps, it doesn’t cover everything.” I said. “That’s especially true if you’re living in town. I know Mom won’t put up with living in a trailer forever, so you’ll have to buy and renovate one of the older homes that aren’t occupied anymore. That’s going to take a good deal of money, especially to insulate it properly for Mom. There’s that place on Monroe Street that she remarked would look good if it was spruced up some. I guess where we’re going is if I’ll continue to help support the family even if I’m not living with you anymore.”
“That’s part of it.” Dad admitted uncomfortably as he shifted slightly in his chair. He hated to be reminded it was my money, not his, but he was getting better at that.
“I should make it an official salary for you to help handle my finances.” I said softly. The idea of giving Mom money while she refused to admit I even existed galled me some, but I couldn’t really blame her. Nanny and Papa had just died, and that was affecting her harshly. Dad had just lost his mother, sister, and a niece and nephew as well. “How about we set a salary of sixty-thousand, and you take the rental income once we rent out the houses in Modesto? Combined with your other income that should give you enough income to make the payments on the loans you’d need for the house and the renovation.”
“You sure about that, son?” Dad asked and I nodded.
“What about the church though?” I asked him softly. His answer was something I was genuinely interested in hearing.
“Do you remember where your Uncle Phil was a preacher at during this time?” Dad asked me.
“Yeah, up in Washington until he got another church down in Pixley, California.” I answered and the reason behind his question bloomed in my mind. “Oh, wait, that was this year he got canned at the Washington church.”
“Um, the church decided to go in a new direction.” Dad corrected me with the euphemism many preachers liked to use for when they got fired by a church.
“Yeah, that’s it.” I replied with a half-smile. “So, he’s looking for a new church now?”
“Yes, he is and I’ve suggested something to him that he’s thinking about.” Dad said evenly and it all clicked in my head.
“You’re going to recommend him to replace you.” I stated and Dad nodded.
“It’ll take care of a few things at once.” Dad said. “You probably haven’t heard yet, but your Uncle Billy is being reassigned.”
“Uncle Billy is being sent out here?” I said incredulously.
“Yes, he is.” Dad confirmed. “He’s the best in his field
and they’ve got all those communication towers out here.”
“I know, we’re right on top of them.” I said and he nodded. Of course he knew that because he’d seen where the trailer was being set up.
“With Billy and Paula and their girls moving out here, it would be a lot nicer with Phil and Chris as well.” Dad continued on his train of thought. “You may not remember this, but when you were little, we lived in Florida and they lived out there too.”
“I remember.” I told him. “It may have been over fifty years ago as far as my memories go, but I do remember.”
“I thought you would.” Dad said with a hint of sadness. We’d talked about those memories before, I realized, and why we had to move from there. “Your Mom, well if she’s got her sister Christine and her brother Billy out here, it should help her recover faster. The church will want to hear Uncle Phil and get to know him and his wife and kids before accepting him, but one thing in his favor is he’s a little more conservative than me, so he should fit right in. The older members, the ones who form the core of the church, really like their hellfire and brimstone every now and then. I haven’t been giving them that, but Phil still includes it in his sermons. It also fits in with what your mother has been blabbing about.”
“Oh no, she hasn’t.” I muttered with less surprise than I should have felt.
“She blabbed about you being responsible for the deaths to Aunt Chris, and when Chris said you couldn’t be to blame, your mother told her everything she knows.” Dad confirmed. I’d been opposed to Mom knowing in two time lines for just that reason, and hoped she’d not told anyone else. “Later, she did the same with Uncle Billy.”
“Please tell me no one else.” I murmured and Dad nodded.
“You know she’s never really confided in Junior or Fern.” Dad said. “She also knows better than to trust Priscilla, although I think she was tempted. Priscilla just agreed with her that it was all your fault.”
“Priscilla blamed me when Mom died in the last two time lines anyway.” I dismissed it with a shrug. I hadn’t liked my Aunt Priscilla since that first time line when she’d blamed me for Mom dying. In fact, she was one of the few people I came close to hating after she used Nanny’s Alzheimer’s to rob her of nearly eighty thousand dollars in that first time line. I’d stopped it from happening in the second, at least. Both times, though, it had been Uncle Phil who’d played a key role in helping my grandparents out, and that more than anything else made me slightly happy he might be moving out here.
“Well, she won’t be coming out here.” Dad said with a gruff laugh. “She balked at the idea of living anywhere that didn’t have a department store or a shopping mall. Chris already told Phil, so he knows. I gave them the national security speech and reported it to the President when I got back out here and could use the secure phone. By the way, he told me it would be removed. Sometime in the next few weeks, most likely. I also talked to him about me running for public office and he told me that as long as it was just state-level there weren’t any real security concerns.”
“I wouldn’t think there’d be any.” I agreed. State-level politicians rarely made much national press unless they did something really insane, and Dad wasn’t the type to do that, or at least I was fairly sure he wasn’t.
“I just wanted to be sure.” Dad said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Anyway, your Mom will be coming back out here with Aunt Chris and Uncle Phil. More than likely they’ll drive out. Phil was actually in the middle of loading up their moving truck when the stuff happened. He said his church members had finished loading it while he was in Modesto so he’ll be driving it down. They’d planned to stay with his mother and father while he searched for a new church.”
“He’s got Pepper, Dustin, and Dwayne now right?” I asked, a little ashamed because after two life times I still didn’t know exactly when those three cousins had been born.
“Right, Dwayne’s about two right now.” Dad said and I shook my head slightly. That sounded about right. I had only met them a handful of times, but I was pretty sure from the way Uncle Phil had talked about them in the first time line that they would grow up loving it out here.
“Well, if the church likes ‘em, I’m sure they’ll love it out here.” I said with a shrug.
“That’s what I’m hoping.” Dad said with a heavy sigh. He looked at me for a long moment before continuing to speak softly. “Your friend Brian and his family came to the funerals.”
“They did?” I said in surprise. I would think they’d be too busy packing to attend.
“Yes, he brought his girlfriend with him.” Dad said and my stomach did a slow flip as he stared at me. “I thought he was the young man that you…married in the last time.”
“We did get married.” I said instantly and with a little more passion than necessary. His gaze was firm at my tone, and I took a deep breath.
“Stay calm, son.” Dad said firmly. “I was just commenting that he seemed to really care for her.”
“Brian always cares about people.” I said quickly. “You could say the same thing about Tammy.”
“I’ve never liked you going out with someone you had no interest in.” Dad stated with a sour grimace. “Are you sure you’re not interested in her?”
“Not in the least.” I answered his question.
“Brian seemed quite interested in that girl.” Dad noted and I struggled not to say something in anger. “He seemed quite…sad to be leaving her.”
“He… he cares about people.” I said.
“Are you sure he’s even… homosexual in this time line?” Dad asked me softly. “You know, he could have chosen not to be that way with you not there.”
“It’s not a choice of being ‘that way’, Dad.” I fumed as quietly as I could. For some reason I thought we’d moved past his argument, but apparently we hadn’t. “Brian has always had… some… attraction to women. It wasn’t as strong as his attraction to guys, though, and once he’s fallen in love, he’s just not interested in anyone else.”
“Are you sure he’s not fallen in love already?” Dad asked me softly. I wanted to hit him for even suggesting that. Why did it seem like everyone was trying to discourage me from reclaiming my love with Brian?
“He hasn’t.” I said confidently, and angrily. “I know that because we talked about her while he was out here. He likes her, but he’s not in love with her.”
“So you think you can swoop in once he’s out here and pick up your relationship?” Dad asked me and I glared at him for a long moment.
“No, it won’t work like that.” I answered after that moment of silence. “It’s been two years since I left the Brian from the last time line, and this isn’t him. I know that, but I also know that the happiest times of my two previous lifetimes was any moment, any second, that I was in his company. The Brian in this time line is different, yes, but he’s also very similar. He has the same values, the same beliefs, and the same humor that I fell in love with before. One thing you forget though, Dad, was that we were friends before we started to get into something deeper. We were boyfriends for years before we became lovers, and we were lovers for many more years. I have no plans to sweep him off his feet and expect him to return the love I feel for him. That will take time, and I’m willing to wait for that. Now, this moment, I’ll settle for just being his friend again. No matter how much changed between us as we lived our lives together, we always remained each other’s best friends, and that’s enough for now. If our love is meant to transcend the barriers presented by time travel, it will. It can’t be forced, it can’t be rushed, but I’ll start by being his friend.”
“What if he’s not interested in more than that?” Dad pushed and this time I did let out a small half-growl, half-sigh. My father just raised his eyebrow a little further.
“If that’s all he wants from me, that’s what I’ll live with.” I answered his question after making that growl. Dad nodded as if that’s what he wanted to hear and sat back in his chair with a more relaxed pose.
“I was hoping you were keeping these things… in perspective.” Dad said. “Now, how are you dealing with your grief?”
“Je…” I started to curse but realized he wouldn’t appreciate me saying that here. Indeed, his eyebrow shot up again and I shook my head. “I guess I’m dealing with it okay. You know, Nanny and Papa and Grandma were all alive in both time lines when I went back, but in both times they were suffering from a disease called Alzheimer’s. It wipes out the victim’s memories, bit by bit, until they’re left living in the past. I remember Nanny talking about going to see her Daddy before her baby’s born, but he died when she was sixteen. That’s when I realized that she got married very young, and had Aunt Priscilla.”
“Your Aunt Priscilla was a shotgun wedding baby.” Dad said with a chuckle. “She was born seven months after the wedding.”
“I figured that out after Nanny talked about it a bit like it was happening right then.” I said with a soft smile of fond remembrance. “There she was, eighty-five years old and talking about being pregnant with her first baby while her great-grandkids were running around the house.”
“Her great-grandkids?” Dad asked.
“Shantill’s kids.” I answered, and then flinched as I remembered Shantill wouldn’t be having any kids now because she’d just been buried. “Actually, it was her second set of kids. Her first daughter Whitney was born when Shantill had just turned eighteen. Fran kicked her out of the house because she wouldn’t have an abortion. Timmy and Lindsey were born twelve years later after she married a dead-beat named Alan.”
“I know she was pregnant now.” Dad said. “Fran didn’t exactly kick her out this time, but they were talking about Shantill moving in with Nanny, which was why they were all there when the attack happened.”
“Oh.” I said with a slightly dazed shrug. I still didn’t feel tears in my eyes, it was almost an academic exercise. I was sad they’d died, but I still didn’t feel anywhere near the level of grief as I did after Mom and Jenny had died in the last time line. “Dad, I’m sorry about them, and Grandma, and everyone who…”
“I know you are, son.” Dad said softly to me as he cut me off. “You know you aren’t to blame.”
“I know.” I said softly. “I… I just feel a little guilty because I’m not an emotional wreck like Mom, or like I was after Mom and Jenny died in the last time line.”
“How old were you when that happened last time?” Dad asked me quietly and I met his gaze. He had a look of concern on his face, and I realized he was worried for me.
“I was fifteen.” I answered quietly.
“So it was before you saw all that death in that time’s World War III?” Dad stated and I saw where he was going even as he continued speaking. “You saw how many people die in that war? Then you had that later war with China, and the attack on the time travel center.”
“Plus the terrorist incidents in the mid-nineties.” I added as an after-thought. That had been a lesson in the futility of assassinating one man. It had also been a lesson on handling President Clinton and then Hillary.
“So you’ve seen a lot more death than you had when that happened.” Dad said. “Plus, I know our family stays in decent contact, but they weren’t a part of your daily life like your mother is, or was.”
“True.” I said, feeling a little less guilty. His points had all occurred to me, but hearing them from another person helped me to accept them. When I let out a sigh and relaxed slightly, I looked up to see him smiling at me. “What?”
“It’s just… it’s nice to know that you still need me as a father, beyond co-signing your checks.” Dad said gently, and with a smile. That smile reached me and I returned it before standing up. He stood at the same time, and I hugged him tightly. We didn’t see eye-to-eye, we had arguments, but he was more my father now than he ever had been before, at least since I was a little kid in that first time line. “It’s almost time for morning services to start. You go meet your friends and we’ll get together after church. Why don’t you guys join your sister and I for lunch? I was thinking of going into town and eating at the Owl Club.”
“Okay.” I said with a nod. “We’ll need to stop by the house to get David and Sam’s stuff. They can go home from there.”
“You mean your new place?” Dad asked and suddenly it struck me that I was not living under his roof anymore.
“Yeah, that place.” I said softly as he put an arm around my shoulder and guided me towards the door. Sure enough, as he opened it, we were greeted to the sight of the pews half-full already. There was the buzz of conversation in the room that stopped suddenly as people caught sight of us. Jenny was already sitting in our regular spot, three rows from the front on the left aisle. She smiled when she saw us, and as conversation in the room started up again, I moved to sit next to her. David and Sam were already sitting next to her with Sean on the far side of the twins. Sam and Sean were talking quietly, and it looked like David had been talking to Jenny when I came out of Dad’s office. My sister scooted over, forcing all of them to move slightly so there was room for me at the end. As I sat down, Jennifer Bauman started playing on the piano. The young woman was quite good, and played the old upright with a passion not usually found in church pianists. I recognized the medley immediately, and smiled softly. Mom would have loved to hear it played so nicely. Dad was talking to Mr. Deacon and two of the other deacons on the dais, while Mrs. Connolly, the music director stood nearby. The service itself would start in about fifteen minutes.
“What did you and Dad talk about?” Jenny asked me softly. I was about to answer her, not fully, but an honest answer when movement to my right caught my eye. It was Mrs. Vera Bauman, an older grandmother who’d lived all her life in the valley. She had a sad look on her face, and when she saw she had my attentions, she started to gave her condolences for the recent losses in our family.
I never got to answer Jenny’s question because the rest of the time before the service began saw a stream of church members coming up to give my sister and I their condolences. The real concern, and real sympathy on their faces and in their voices reminded me of the good side of churches and organized religion. As a gay man in the past two lifetimes, churches had often been the ‘enemy’ at least in the realm of politics. They did have their good aspects, though, and this was one of them.
Good churches, and bad ones, provided a community for their members. It was more than a coming together to worship a God who may or may not exist. Members were people who shared a common connection, and when one of their own was hurting, good churches would let them know they weren’t alone. This sense of community was something I’d missed in many ways during the last few time lines. Sure, my relationship with Brian and our families and friends through that relationship had helped fill that gap. Yet, here were people who we usually only saw on Sundays, or maybe Wednesday services, or the occasional church function, and they were sharing their sympathy and concern freely, without political motivation or some sense of obligation.
“It’s good to see all of you hear this morning.” Mr. Deacon said by way of starting the actual service. “I’d like to ask all of you to bow your heads for a moment and join me in prayer for the memory of those who have gone to our Lord this last week.”
Mr. Deacon’s prayer was simple, but once again it was heartfelt as he named each of our relatives lost in the last week. I could hear Jenny sniffling beside me as I kept my head bowed. When I put my arm around her, she leaned into me and I knew despite the tradition of bowing your head in prayer that many eyes were trained on the two of us. I kept my head bowed until he was done, though. Still, I managed to see about half the congregation watching us with looks of sympathy, and slight smiles scattered throughout.
The hymns sung that morning were all slow and almost fitting of a funeral. I knew it was the church’s time to join our family in grieving for lost loved ones, and what surprised me was that I felt almost like I was at the funerals I’d missed. That morning’s Prayer List included our family as well as the typical list of those with sick or injured loved ones here and elsewhere. When it came time for Dad’s sermon, he didn’t surprise me by changing his planned sermon, but rather stuck with the study of Job he’d begun two weeks ago.
“Some of you might think I’d have picked another sermon for this week.” Dad began with a wry grin. “Yet, I can think of no clearer message in times of grief and woe than the lesson of Job, who was tested by God and Satan. He had all of his possessions taken away, his family distanced from him, and his livelihood failed, and yet he endured in his faith. When the going gets rough, as it has in the last week, I take comfort from the lessons learned by this man.”
He’d gone on from there, but his words flowed in and out of my ears without really registering. Instead, I soaked in the ambiance of the room and reflected on how all churches may be physically different, but they had certain factors that were almost always common. Before services began, the church would be cool. As the services began, it would warm up from the body heat of the congregation. Usually about the time Dad was half-way through his sermon, it would reach that comfortably warm level that usually drove me off to sleep. Over the years of going to churches, and doing so again in this lifetime, I’d learned to fight the urge to sleep that the specific temperature always brought on for me.
There were also the noises. Diamond Valley Baptist Church had the dark oaken pews of the unpadded variety. As adults shifted in their seats, there’d be a little creaking sound. Sometimes teenagers would whisper to each other, not really aware that their voices could be heard, if not their words. Kids would giggle once in a while and then go quiet at the stern looks of parents and other adults. Even more rarely, a muffled cry could be heard from the nursery that was behind the congregational area.
As Dad wound down his sermon, making his point about God never putting more of a burden on us than we were made to handle, I felt a sense of peace, of belonging, wash over me like I hadn’t felt since the last time I’d spent the night in bed with Brian. That had been in Taipei, in between my return from the war games on the Taiwan navy ship as an observer and the outbreak of hostilities. It wasn’t the same feeling by any stretch of the imagination, but it was similar. Like the twin brothers sitting just on the other side of Jenny; similar down to the smallest of details, yet different as you got to know them better.
It was this feeling, I knew, even more than the sense of community that brought people to churches all over the world. Some called it a crutch, and in a way it was, but no more or less than any other crutch that helps us get through life. People used that line and forget that the crutch is a tool to help humans who cannot walk on their own because of some injury, or some flaw. A man who cannot stand because one leg is broken, cannot get himself to the bathroom or to the dining room table, but he can do that with the assistance of a crutch.
As Dad finished his sermon, and the congregation stood to sing the old hymnal ”Just As I Am”, I remained seated. Jenny stood, and then looked at me and I realized I was still sitting. Even though I knew people were watching and wondering, I didn’t have the strength to stand as I felt several things click into place.
My life, ever since the first time line had always been impacted by religion. As a child I’d thrown myself into the belief in God with abandon, only to have it crushed as I grew older. It was here, in this place, if not this room, that it had died in November of 1984, this year. That had been when Mom found out about my father in that first time line molesting my sister for the past several years, and Mom had taken us home to Nanny.
Now, Nanny was dead and my sister remained untouched. I’d even come here today to find that Dad had driven all the way back here with her, had slept in that house alone with her during a time of stress, and the concern about possible molestation hadn’t even occurred to me. Part of me wondered if this second Do Over had been so I could heal my immediate family. The family members who’d died did not have happy lives in either of the two past time lines. They’d gotten to escape before they had to deal with the really tough issues we all faced ahead.
Was this the plan of God?
That was the question I pondered as the services ended. While the building emptied of people, they instinctively gave me some distance, sensing that I was lost in thought. In the end, as I moved to stand with Dad and Jenny at the entrance, shaking everyone’s hands as they left like the dutiful Preacher’s Son, I realized that it didn’t matter if this was all God’s plan.
I still had a duty to perform, a life to live, and a love to reclaim, all one day at a time.
As with all my stories, E provides immeasurable input, grammar checking, and all those other lovely editing thingies that make the story so much better!
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