I don’t know why I go.
Partly because I don’t want to see Mom when she wakes up.
Partly because deep down, I know I want answers. Answers to everything. Not just why my mom drinks, but why everything is so messed up. Why I have no idea what is going on.
I go because he has the answers.
I go to the church with the families and their children and all the people who seem real and happy. They seem normal. They’re not wearing hoods or upside-down crosses. They don’t have horns or 666 tattoos. They’re just normal people who probably didn’t puke all over themselves last night. Normal people going to church.
Pastor Marsh is there, and he looks normal and says normal things. He’s not normal—I know that. But to everybody else, he’s the pastor saying nice things like believe in yourself and fight the good fight and know there’s a reason for everything. He says these clichés, and they all seem very normal to me.
But I didn’t come here because I wanted a slice of normal.
I came here because I want the truth.
After the sermon, I wait for him. It doesn’t take long.
In some weird way, it’s like the pastor knows I’m here.
“Hello, Chris.”
Deep inside I’m shivering. At least it feels like that. But I stand firm and shake his hand and look him in the eye. “Good morning.”
“It’s a nice surprise to see you here.”
“I want to know.”
Jeremiah Marsh doesn’t look surprised or shocked. He nods, and then his eyes focus behind the narrow glasses. “I can understand one’s need to know. May I ask why now? On this particular beautiful summer morning?”
“I’m tired of just—of not knowing. Of living somewhere that just seems—really messy.”
Saying that makes me think of his house. The one I broke into while Poe waited. There was nothing messy about it, except his raving lunatic of a wife screaming at me.
“I can’t tell you everything at one time,” he says. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. It’s too much, too soon.”
“You said if I let things go—if I just asked. Well—the letting go part is already done. And I’m pretty good at that.”
“I know,” Marsh says.
“But I’m here—right now—I’m here to ask.”
His serious gaze focuses on me. “To ask for what?”
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to ask for.”
He nods. “What is it you really, truly want?”
I think of everything in one brief heavy downloadable second.
Leaving Illinois and meeting the girls and the mysteries and the love of Jocelyn and the nightmare to follow and Jared and Poe and Kelsey and Mom and Dad and Lily.
“Relief,” I blurt out.
Because that’s true.
I just want to feel lighter. The way I’ve almost started feeling this summer.
The pastor smiles, and my skin grows cold and I shiver as he places both his hands on my shoulders.
“You’re going to get that and more. And then you’re going to thank me. For everything.”