Page 37 of Drag You Down
Here, in his living room, right by the front door.
I need to tell him the truth. I can’t be absolved of my sins if I don’t confess them.
But maybe there are some sins I don’t want to be absolved of.
Maybe there are some sins I want to cling to.
“I have been having… thoughts,” I say, stumbling over my words. It isn’t a lie. I can’t lie. He’d know. Is lying by omission really a sin?
Father Zachariah peers closer at me, and his thick, bushy brows furrow. “Thoughts?” he repeats. “What kind of thoughts?”
I open my mouth to speak again, then falter. “I wonder if God has abandoned me,” I blurt out. “I have doubts. There’s…” I scramble to pull together thoughts I have had, thoughts that have nothing to do with my personal Devil. “The world outside is so tainted, and I don’t understand how He could abandon so many and save so few.”
Father Zachariah purses his lips. “We’ve spoken about doubts, Levi. They’re the first foothold of the devil.”
I’m beyond the first foothold.
I’m beyond the second, or even the third. The way I touch myself after taking penance, the Devil’s incessant interest in me, the thoughts of men, the way I’m coveting this gift, the lies, the doubts… There are so many things I think and dowrong.
“Why does He allow so much suffering, Father Zachariah?” I ask, defaulting to my old questions, questions I’ve never had satisfactory answers to.
Father Zachariah puts an arm around my shoulder. “It is as I have told you many times, Levi. God wants us all to persevere. It is not true faith if you cannot continue to believe through pain and through suffering. Do you remember the story of Job? He?—”
Before he can continue the familiar parable, somebody knocks on the door.
Father Zachariah makes a frustrated sound and lets go of me to open it.
I don’t know what I expect, but it isn’t to find Gabriel standing on the other end.
He’s wearing a maintenance uniform, with a baseball cap on his head. In one hand he’s got a clipboard, and in the other, he holds up some sort of ID badge.
“Who are you?” Father Zachariah asks warily. “How did you get in?”
“I’m Gabe March,” Gabriel says, lifting the badge up higher. “Building inspector. I got a concerned call after a fire incident last week.”
My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest as I stare at him, dumbfounded. I can’t believe how bold he is, to come into the heart of the congregation andlieto Father Zachariah.
Why is he even here?
“There was no fire,” Father Zachariah says instantly. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be talking to the building supervisor?”
Gabriel glances at me briefly before turning his attention back to Father Zachariah. He writes something on the paper on his clipboard, even though I know he isn’t actually a building inspector.
At least, I think I know that.
“Funny. Couldn’t find anyone listed as building supervisor, and the administration office number is dead. So I came to the building owner. That is you, right, Mr. Baker? Joshua Baker?”
Joshua Baker?
Who is Joshua Baker?
I blink at Gabriel in confusion, the crucifix necklace feeling like it’s searing my hand, pulsing like it’s alive.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” Father Zachariah says immediately. “My name is Zachariah Carpenter. Now leave.”
He grabs the door and tries to slam it shut, but Gabriel blocks the door with his shoulder and forces his way inside.
“Zachariah Carpenter, then,” Gabriel says, looking around. “There are some issues with the fire safety standards of the building, which were noted by the fire rescue team when they arrived.”
