Heaven (new version)

chapter 18: vulnerable

It wasn't Sunday when Sina headed back toward the church. Not that it made any difference to him. It was just another day. And it was not that he was making his way to Saint Agatha's to pray (as if). He was going because he wanted to feel Father Caleb's presence. The priest's presence, he reminded himself. He isn't a man like the ones who walk into the club. He's a collar-wearing, bible-reading, get-on-your-knees-to-pray-not-suck-dick sort of man. Shit. Why am I putting myself through this? It's not as if I have a chance with him. 

But the thought of Father Cal made Sina shiver pleasantly. He hadn't been able to get the preacher out of his mind. He had to see him again. If only from the window. If only for a minute. Sina wondered if priests went to church on days that weren't Sundays. "Sunday. The sunniest of days," Sina chanted.

"The first day of the week is Sunday. It'll make it easier to learn the days this way. Start with the sunny day, the sunniest of days, and go on from then, OK, Sinny?" His adoptive mother's words were a whisper in the back of his skull. He kept Bel there in a safe and secret little spot – in a place where he kept the most important things in his life that he never wanted to forget.

Sina thought back to when he'd once asked Cybele about her parents and she told him that she had none. She had stated that she'd been hatched from an egg.

"Seriously, mum." A young Sina had rolled his eyes at her silliness. "An egg? Like Mork? Did you come from the planet Ork, too?"

"Not exactly like Mork."

"Then?"

"Let's pretend I've always been and leave it at that. I mean you don't like talking about your father, right?"

"Touche." Sina'd tipped an imaginary hat at her and never asked again.

Sina looked up at the sky. There were a few gray clouds loitering but there was no sunlight anywhere. It was like the sun wasn't a huge fan of shining down on Heaven anymore so it rarely did. "That's how I feel about okra," he remarked out loud. "I tend to stay as far away as possible. Heaven is the sun's okra."

As soon as the last syllable left his mouth, something cracked above and a drop of rain fell upon Sina's nose. "Bite me," he grumbled and shook a fist at the sky. But the sky, defiant and with about as many manners as a two-year-old pumped full of sugar, laughed at Sina and the single raindrop was followed by many, many more.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Hoisting his hood over his head, Sina narrowed his eyes and hurried on.

By the time he reached the church, the rain had still not stopped. It felt like little needles over whatever parts of skin were exposed under his hoodie and cargo shorts. Sina looked down at his feet. He was wearing a pair of army boots that were now stuck in a mud puddle. When he lifted a leg, the ground made a faint sucking sound. Sina stepped out of the puddle and into a patch of grass. He was careful not to step on any of the wildflowers growing in the yard. "I'm surprised ol' witch-with-a-B Cullen hasn't sprayed you guys with arsenic or something. She's not a fan of you wild ones.." Sina looked up to the church and uttered an afterthought, "But I'm sure ol' pudding-brains is happy to see the flowers every Sunday when he comes here. Maybe they all remind him of Cookie." 

Sina's thoughts faded away when he saw a shadow move past the window. He didn't expect his heart to cartwheel across his chest the way it did, but the mere thought that he was going to see the priest again made him want to laugh and cry at the same time. Tiptoeing closer to the building, he reached the bottom of the steps and nearly lost his breath when the door opened and Father Caleb stepped out.

"Hello," Father Cal said warmly. "It appears you're always here with the rain."

A breeze wrapped itself around Sina's legs and made him shiver. "I'm bad luck."

Father Cal leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought only black cats and walking under ladders was bad luck in the 80s."

"Everything is bad luck in the 80s, padr...er..."

When Sina faltered, Father Caleb spoke, "Cal is fine."

"Cal." Sina watched Father Caleb reach up and absentmindedly run his thumb along his bottom lip. At that moment, Sina nearly lost it. Oh, fuuu...

"Are you alright?"

Sina shook his head. "No. I mean yes. I'm fine."

Caleb gestured towards the entrance of the church.

"No, I'm good."

"It's raining."

"I'm aware. I mean I'm pretty soaked."

"I can see that. That's why I think you should come inside and dry off. I have towels. You can stay until the rain stops."

"It never fucking stops."

"It eventually will." Caleb shrugged. "It can't last forever."

"I'm good."

"You'll catch your death."

"Can't catch nothing."

"Well, I would feel terrible if you did get sick."

Sina looked up when he felt the rain gradually come to a stop and a rouge sliver of sun shine down from between two clouds. "Guilt be gone." He returned his gaze to Caleb. When he blinked, he felt drops on his lashes. "I'll dry up soon enough now."

"Your sweatshirt looks like it needs to be wrung out," Father Caleb said as he walked down the four steps leading from the building to the path.

With each step Father Cal took, Sina took an equal one backward. "You got to be careful."

Cal raised his brows. "For what?"

Sina pointed to a bunch of flowers at the edge of the preacher's toes. "Don't step on them. They are especially vulnerable after the rain."

The corners of Father Caleb's lips curled upward. "We need people like you at church. You're a good soul."

Sina scoffed. "Good soul? Ain't nothing good about anything inside me. I've got a void where a soul should be. I'm a sinner. A big one, too."

"We are all sinners, friend. None of us are as pure as we think we are. Or as others think we are." Caleb gestured to the hood. "People catch pneumonia this way. You really should do something about this." He stepped to Sina and reached him before the younger man could back away like before. "May I?"

Remaining still, Sina decided to throw caution to the wind. "Yes, but you might turn into stone if you touch me."

Father Caleb removed the hood off Sina's head. As Cal reached around and wrung the material, Sina closed his eyes and held his breath.

Through the sound of blood pulsing in his ears, Sina heard Father Cal whisper in a way that made him think the preacher had just been punched, "Your hair is wet too... You should...you need to..."

Opening his eyes, Sina saw Cal linger for a second longer than he should before letting go of the hood. He saw the priest squeeze his eyes shut, he saw the man's jaw tense; then he watched Cal suck in a mouthful of air and back away. "I'm sorry."

Sina looked upon Caleb's face. Between heartbeats, he heard singing. In the depths of the priest's eyes, Sina was floating. "Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong."

It was a good moment before Caleb replied, "I don't have the habit of doing that."

"It's a priest thing, isn't it? Trying to help people, I mean."

"I wish it always worked."

"Can't save everyone, huh?"

Father Cal ran his fingers through his hair, and in a voice that was more like a melancholy man's and less like a Holy Father's he said, "You should go home and get into dry clothes before you catch your death." Above, the sky cracked with the promise of more rain. "Go before the storm comes again. Before something happens that should not."

*Fun Fact: I do not like okra and that is why Sina doesn't like okra. Yuck!