Golgotha

Tolerance

Grace was too far away to see who the woman was, but she looked a lot like Maya. It couldn't be her. Maya never came to any of the seminary classes. The woman was talking to Pastor Frank in front of the rows of chairs, which the pastor must've brought outside and arranged under the Argol tree. The sky was cloudy, but it wasn't supposed to rain, making it a perfect evening to have his first class outside. Grace counted fourteen chairs arranged in two semicircles, which was way too many; they would be lucky if even half that many people showed up.

After getting out of her car and stepping onto the lawn, it didn't take more than a few steps to see that the woman was Maya. Grace would've liked more than anything to march right up to her, take her aside, but not too far aside (Pastor Frank should hear what she had to say), and tell Maya that the way she acted on Sunday was uncalled for. What she did in the chapel was bad enough, but the way she barged into the kitchen, making all kinds of accusations, with Milly sitting right there, it was just a terrible way to treat another human being. 

Seeing Maya there, standing so close to Pastor Frank, it should've been obvious it was her. There wasn't anyone in Kennesaw who had a figure like that. Her hair up in a bun, wearing light gray jeans and a bright purple tie-dyed shirt. Those jeans looked like they were saran-wrapped to her barely-there butt.

Grace felt like she was past all of this, but it wasn't only Maya, it was everything Sunday; it all came rushing back to her—Milly's hallucination in the chapel, Maya storming into the kitchen, and later, when Matty—

"Grace!" Pastor Frank was waving at her.

She didn't move. She barely heard him because her thoughts felt more real than the present. It was the Argol tree bringing her back to that day. It happened whenever she was near it. Every single detail scurrying around in her head like a rodent, red eyes, rascally teeth nibbling at her brain.

She again saw Matty carrying an ice cream cone for him and another for their dog, Luna, the two of them rushing out the back door of their house. Milly was not far behind, getting her cone and hurrying after them before Grace could tell her she was running way too fast. Pastor Frank, who was sitting at the dinner table, chuckling, saying Milly's ice cream didn't have a chance of staying on top of that cone.

"Hey! Grace! Are you alright?!" Pastor Frank shouted. She waved and walked towards them, the pastor watching her for only a moment, before turning to Maya. 

Grace again saw the pastor at her dinner table. While the kids were outside, he asked so many questions, mostly about the house, which everyone asked about. Grace always assumed they were thinking, a single mother, on her income, how could she own such a nice house with so much land?

When she was only a few steps away from them, Pastor Frank said, "Maya was telling me about the Argol tree." He gazed up at the tree. "It's one of the most unusual things I've ever seen."

"Grace can tell you a lot more about it," said Maya.

"I didn't know your grandmother founded the church," said the pastor.

"Well, I don't know that much," said Grace. "Noah could tell you a lot more than me." 

"Did your grandmother know about the tree?" asked the pastor.

"What do you mean?"

"Did the redemptions maybe start with her?"

"Oh no, they started with the girls."

"I heard that people came and prayed near the tree, and their prayers were answered," said Maya.

"Yeah well, people still do that," said Grace.

"But before the girls. People were healed before then, right?"

"I think so," said Grace looking away from them, hoping to change the subject. "I thought Noah was gonna be here."

"He's inside," said Pastor Frank. "We needed another cord for the bug zapper."

"I didn't see his car."

"I gave him a ride. He was having problems with his Buick."

"Why didn't he use Shirley's car?"

Pastor Frank told her about Noah's doctor's appointment, his Buick breaking down on their way home, and a few other things Grace didn't hear. She remembered him talking, just like he was now, in her kitchen. He was telling her about his father, who was also a pastor and didn't believe the redemptions were real.

Maya asked Pastor Frank something about Shirley. Grace closed her eyes, thinking maybe if she concentrated, she could block out what she was remembering, but the pastor's voice was like a humming incantation—the Argol tree was all around her, like a metal trap, its teeth tearing at her while she tried to rip away from her thoughts.

"Mom! Mom!" she heard Matty screaming from the backyard.

Grace rushed over to the kitchen window. She couldn't see him. His screaming was so horrible. He must've hurt himself badly. She ran to the patio, Pastor Frank following behind her, and saw Matt and Milly all the way over by the oak tree. They were just standing there facing each other. Luna was nowhere to be found. Grace yelled their names. They didn't respond. It looked like there wasn't anything wrong, the two of them doing nothing but staring at each other. When she was not far from them, she could only see Matty. He was facing her, he wasn't hurt, but his face was ghost-white, his mouth hanging open. Something was wrong with Milly.

Before Grace reached them, she shouted, "Matty!? What's goin' on? What's wrong with her!?"

Milly was mashing her ice cream cone into her forehead. Melted ice cream dripped down her face with nothing but the end of the cone still intact. Her body rigid, except for her left hand mashing what was left of the cone. Her eyes were closed, her eyebrows raised, her open mouth trembling. 

"She... she won't talk to me," Matty stammered. "She won't tell me why she's doing that. Why, why is she doing that, Mom?"

"She'll be fine." Grace carefully reached her arms around Milly and hugged her. Milly didn't move. Grace gently placed the side of her face against hers, the melted ice cream cold on her skin, Milly's heavy breath brushing her ear. Grace held her tighter. She felt the nudge of Milly's heart pawing frantically at her chest.

"Grace?"

"Yes?"

"How is Amelia doing?"

"Do what?"

Maya asked her again, but what she said wasn't registering at all. Grace heard nothing but Milly talking to their dog, Luna, asking, "How have I wronged you, Luna? What have I done?"

"It's been a rough week," said Grace.

"How have I wronged you, my poor Luna?"

The next day, Milly appeared to be fine, but Grace could not get her to say anything about why she was mashing the ice cream cone into her forehead. Sometime in the afternoon, Milly was in the living room, her face in front of Luna's. Grace was on her phone standing by the stairs when a garbage truck stopped outside their house. Luna started growling. The truck made a loud noise. Luna barked. It was only a couple of times, and she wasn't very loud, but Grace could see it was bothering Milly. When Luna barked again, Milly grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and shoved her head to the floor. Luna yelped and whimpered as she tried to wriggle free. Somehow, Milly had enough strength to hold Luna's head against the floor.