Sabre had sneezed quite loudly during the sermon, much to her embarrassment. This had prompted Sister Tulla to rush over to her while she was trying to make a discrete exit. In the corner of her eyes, she could still see Al, skulking by one of the stained-glass windows.
"Are you feeling ill, Miss Sabre?"
"Oh, no, I think... It's actually the incense they were burning. I'm sure I'll get used to it."
"That means you'll come back to service soon, yes?!"
That's not what she had meant, but she supposed it wasn't untrue.
"I," she glanced back again at Al, and unfortunately Tulla did notice, "Yes, I think I will. I have to admit that Father Allen's sermon was not at all what I was expecting."
"Ah yes! We hear that often of visitors and newcomers. He certainly lacks the 'fire and brimstone' temperament that many have come to associate with Catholicism," she said with a wink.
"That he does," Sabre said as she observed him sitting on the front stairs to the pulpit crowded around the children, fielding all sorts of questions along the lines of, 'is pulling your sister's hair a sin?' or 'what should I do if I get a bad grade?' He chuckled along as he tried to ask questions of his own.
"I'd love to introduce the two of you, but sadly, it seems he'll be quite busy with confessions this afternoon."
"That's where," Sabre drew on her somewhat lacking understanding of Catholicism, "you confess your sins... and he forgives you?"
"Not quite, but you have the right idea. It isn't for Father Allen to forgive you, only God himself can do that. It is Father's duty to help you atone for your sins and advise you how to do better in the future."
I see, Sabre thought, Forgiveness... It must be an appealing thought to so many, even her…
"Sabre!" Olly waved from the crowd, "Sabre! Hey c'mon with us! We're all going to the pub for a bite!"
"Indeed!" Bennen Smith's booming voice thundered through the chapel, "Let's have you all get your fill after such a stimulating oration!"
Out of nowhere, Sister Irena's voice rose to the rafters, "Not a drop of alcohol 'till past noon, you hear me Brennen Smith!"
A chorus of laughter echoed through the chaple, and the rabble began to slowly exit, milling about in the streets outside. Olly whispered something in Earnie's ear, and the younger crowd began to bid their parents goodbye and go their separate ways.
"You comin’ along mop top?" Astrid looked back at Sabre with a smirk.
"Oh, um, sure!"
"A little short for a security guard ain't ya?" she spun around to see yet another smirking face.
This one belonged to the blue-haired menace she'd run into at the shop earlier in the week.
"I'm not a security guard," she replied plainly.
"Yeah, I got that, heh," he said, still smiling, "So you goin' for drinks with us then too?"
"Don't remember inviting YOU, Tember," Astrid shot back.
He feigned offense, "Then I'm unwelcome at your little establishment? You must've slept through the sermon today all about inclusivity and understanding-"
"Ok, ok, we get it!" Earnie retorted, "C'mon then! We'll need a replacement asshole for Al."
So, Al won't be there, Sabre sighed with relief, but this guy... his 'good friend' will be.
Judging from the others' attitudes and her own limited experience, Sabre assumed that their temperments were much alike. She’d have to be careful what she did and said. She was interested in getting to know the other people in town... but not so much that she had any intention of letting this sour-faced punk get the better of her. She mostly just curious who on earth that scumbag would consider a 'good friend.'
As it turned out, completely unbeknownst to Sabre, Alistar had quite a few 'good friends' in town... and all in the right places.
Back at the port, Seamus, was tidying up the sheet-metal shack he called home, kicking aside a useless oxygen tank and breathing equipment, he'd kept for Alistair, who honestly wore it just for show. It was Sunday, though he'd missed services, and as Port Master he had no official duties today so he was trying to find a place for all of Alistair's shit. It was a never-ending battle, as his property backed right up against Al's own backyard, or garbage dump would be a more accurate description.
He glanced through his window to glare at the steep hillside of Al's property, that hung over a cliff face above sea below, bordered only by a rusty chain mail fence, bursting to the brim with anything and everything, unidentful car parts, batteries, tires, the hull of an of and old ship, steel poles and masts, rudders, propellers, broken furniture, a run-down kiln and an eye-sore of a machine shop.
Ughhh... What am I going to do about that brat of a selk?
He'd seriously considered filing a complaint with the city, but considering his own innumerable code-violations, he'd held off.
Suddenly his CB Radio crackled to life. When he went to pick up the mic, however, he hesitated, seeing the channel blinking on the display.
"This is closed channel," He stated plainly, "Use the open maritime chan-"
"Seamus," he was interrupted.
He stiffened, "And to what do I owe the pleasure my esteemed councilwoman, my dearest jewel of the sea?"
"Skip the formalities, and flattery for that matter," Ainslieghn Dirkken's voice crackled, "You're too old for my taste."
He sighed and slumped down in his chair. Given their last encounter, he could safely say that he couldn't have been more thankful to ...'not to be to someone's taste.'
"I'll be coming to visit my brother. Be ready."
"Wait! What? When?" he fumbled at the sudden announcement, "The pressure chamber hasn't been used since-"
"You've got a week."
"But that's not enough time-"
"Get to work then."
She cut out with a crackle.
Welp, there go MY plans for the day.
At the pub, Jasper and Lewis were already in the game room as the rest piled in. Olly tried to order a drink first, only to receive a stern look from his sister and mother both.
"Please! Not at the same time! I beg of you women!"
"Time to get a watch," Jasper nudged him jestingly.
"Oh YOU'RE one to talk!" his older brother chided.
Astrid lit a cigarette and donned her apron, tossing one to Olly as well, "Make yourself useful FIRST, THEN get shitfaced."
While Earnie and Wen chatted about the sermon, Tember's eyes had fixed uncomfortably of Sabre. He stepped to approach her, but was thankfully intercepted by an all-to-enthusiastic Jasper Campell, who embraced her, lifting her up off the ground.
"My hero!" he exclaimed, much to Sabre's confusion. She had NO idea who this mad man was.
"Your... what now?"
"You found his chicken," Lewis explained.
"Ahh..."
"Technically, I found the chicken," Astrid pointed out.
"Doesn't count if ya' don't return it," Olly chided.
Suddenly a loud *CLANG*CLACK*CLANG*! came echoing through the bar, and for a few moments there was utter mayhem.
Sabre and several others eventually settled down into a booth. And for a while she happily found herself not the topic of conversation.
"Where is Seamus anyways?"
"I know, right? He skipped out on church and now no cards? It feels like missing a piece of the scenery to not have him puffing away in the corner."
"Slacking on his duties, and on the LORD'S day no less!" Astrid said in a mockingly high-and-mighty tone, with her nose pointed up in the air, and set down two more pitchers of beer at their table.
Everyone erupted with laughter. It had become clear to Sabre that there were many devout Catholics in town who had a... loose interpretation of the scripture.
Sabre caught a rare wide smile from Astrid, and smiled back- but then- something was off. Astrid caught herself and turned away immediately.
What was that? Something's... different about her teeth, though Sabre had only seen it for a second.
Sabre shrugged it off. It was common, after all, for people to not have straight teeth, and moreover, to be slightly shy about it. Although... Astrid hadn’t struck her as particularly shy.
She continued to drink with her new acquaintances, and even ended up sharing a plate of perogies with Oliver, when he finally got a chance to sit and take a break.
“My treat,” He said with a wink.
Sabre wasn’t sure if she was being flirted with or not, but she didn't really mind the attention.
The evening wrapped up rather early, and thankfully without any confrontation between her and Tember. Although, she wasn’t sure what put her ill-at-ease about him. She thought at first, maybe it was that her landlord considered him a 'good friend,' but that couldn't be it. After all, Olly, Earnie and Wen had all been happy to call Al a friend, and despite his stand-offish demenor, he seemed to converse easily enough with all the others, even moreso after several drinks. After some careful consideration, she decided that she just didn't like him.
As she got ready to go, Earnie pulled her aside.
“Hey lady,” he was a little drunk, “you going home? Y’know, to Al’s?”
Sabre sighed, “I suppose I am, maybe he’s not home, heh?”
“Oh, he’s probably still at the church,” Earnie said, much to Sabre’s surprise, "If you fought- you should just *hic* settle it, 'cus he ain't going anywhere."
He had a point. But Sabre wasn't ready to admit it yet. She just shook her head and turned to leave.
“Oh! Oh oh! And Olly’s gonna’ walk you home!”
“Wait, what? I don’t need-”
“Nope nope nope,” Earnie shoved the both of them together out the door, “There’s no say in this, *hic* Off you go!”
It was true. Al was at the church long after the crowds had dissipated, even into the evening. He sat in the cramped booth opposite Father Allen for quite a while, rattling off the typical laundry list, until there was a pause.
“Let us bypass this dreary dance, my boy,” the Father finally spoke up.
Al remained quiet.
“Don’t mistake my words for impatience, Alistair,” he said softly, “It only seems as if you have something more to talk about, something weighing on your mind?”
“I-... Yes.”
“Let’s talk about it then. Father to son.”
“...”
“Have you been eating well?”
“...yes.”
“I thought so,” Father Allen nodded, “I saw the news article. Not of your doing, of course?”
“No! No... I just-”
“It’s fine my child. Never been much of a hunter have you?" he said with a chuckle that Al di not reciprocate, "Some things can’t be helped. I expect you know what to do.”
“Irena already has the bones…” Al sighed.
“And your prayers?”
“I’m working on them,” he assured Father Allen.
“I see,” he allowed for another long pause to pass before he nudged again, “I hear you have a tennant now… How goes it with her? After some consideration, I thought you two might share quite a bit in co-”
“Forgive me, Father,” Al suddenly cut him off.
Father Allen waited patiently for him to continue.
“I-...I,” Al swallowed, hard, “I put someone under my influence.”
“Oh,” the Father replied, trying to stifle his sudden sense of worry, “...the girl? Miss MacGregor?”
Al nodded silently.
“Well… that is serious…” he rubbed his forehead, “Forgive me, but, Alistair, it was my understanding that you would… outgrow these sorts of accidents. Your sister assured me that you’d be able to control it with age-”
“I can control it! I-” he hesitated, the full weight of his regret finally crashing down on his shoulders, “I… I did it on purpose.”
Father Allen gasped and stood suddenly, unable to contain his surprise, “Alistair!”
“I KNOW!” Al finally lost his composure, “I was SCARED! I WAS SCARED! That doctor! She won’t leave me alone! And- And- Who IS that girl?! Father-! She-”
Al swallowed a sob, and Father Allen had to remind himself of Alistair’s true age, not in years, but in his heart and mind. The Father sat down slowly, and allowed his child time to calm down.
“Calm now?”
Al nodded.
“Alistair, I know that I don’t need to tell you this, but I will remind you that free will is one of the most sacred gifts God has given all his children, including you. To consciously steal that gift from another is a sin I have yet to contemplate, and not something I thought you capable of. To say that I am disappointed would not do justice to the seriousness of this situation.”
Al slumped.
“No amount of FEAR justifies your actions, Alistair.”
He remained silent, then finally, “She could’ve just as easily done the same to me…”
“What?”
“...she has a bridle.”
Father Allen was again shocked into silence.
“Well… That does complicate things,” he admitted finally, “But it’s not an excuse. You cannot continue to live in such fear like this, Alistair. You will only continue to harm yourself and others. If Astrid can learn to-”
“Oh PLEASE do NOT bring her into this!! I’m NOT her. I’m not the Wrens. You KNOW why I’m sitting here!”
The Father remained silent. He’d long since grown used to the young man’s temper, and the answer to why Alistair came to see him was the same as ever.
To be forgiven...
Comments (0)
See all