Hell Followed with Us(73)
I deserve this. I have to repent for the mistakes I’ve made. I want to destroy everything I see, but it’s just easier if I don’t fight back. I need to save my strength for the absolution, and I deserve it, don’t I? If it’s happening, I must deserve it, right?
Repent ye therefore, that your sins may be blotted out…
“Just,” I say. “Don’t say anything to Mom.”
“It isn’t right,” Theo whispers. “I love you.”
No, he doesn’t. He burned the ALC. He killed my people. He did this to me. I want to bludgeon his head against the cinderblock walls until his skull comes apart in my hands, seeping brain and shards of bone between my fingers.
I have to pretend I want to be home.
I say, “I love you too.”
Since Mom is one of the most important people in New Nazareth, our family’s apartment-style dormitory is a decent one. We’re in one of the biggest residence halls, closest to the heart of campus, overlooking the courtyard nestled in the middle of our U-shaped building. I even get my own room. That’s a blessing, because if this had been Mom and Dad’s room too, I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I’d keep seeing him over my shoulder. I’d keep screaming for him.
This is repentance.
Theo presses his face into the crook of my neck and stands there with me until Mom calls from the living room. It’s time to go.
“She may not be the most accepting,” Theo reminds me, “but she does care about you.”
I nod like I believe him.
“We all love you,” Theo says, and he holds out a hand for me to take. I accept, and my other hand touches the pocket of my dress, where I’ve hidden Nick’s note.
* * *
Sister Nelson plays the piano since Sister Shoemaker, the usual church pianist, sprained a tendon in her wrist while I was gone. Every note rises to the towering ceiling of Kincaid Chapel, twinkling like invisible stars. I wasn’t expecting to have a panicked reaction to an instrumental version of “When We All Get to Heaven,” but here we are. Theo squeezes my hand as I fight to breathe, and Mom smiles as if she can make up for the gory mess of my body.
For the whisper of the boy she’s tried to erase from me.
Kincaid Chapel is the centerpiece of New Nazareth, and it has been kept perfect even through the end of the world. The reception area is full of banners and murals, the sun beams through the glass walls, and there are so many people waiting for us that it feels like coming to the gates all over again. An apprentice reverend has left out a basin of water for us to wash our hands as we enter.
Sister May, one of Mom’s friends, whispers “blessed Seraph” as we pass. The whisper starts a ripple, blessed Seraph, blessed Seraph, and Mom beams in the perfection of it all. She’s smiling so wide, it shows every tooth, even the ones too far back in her mouth, like her lips are being stretched unnaturally. After so long in the ALC, it’s unsettling to see everyone unmasked. They’re all barefaced, showing their emotions to the world with nothing to hide them. Their smiles don’t look right anymore. Or maybe they’ve always been this wrong.
“This is for you, Esther,” Mom murmurs, resting a hand on the back of my neck. I want to grab it and break it. That or tear off the rest of my skin.
We’re greeted at the sanctuary by Brother Hutch.
I stop in the middle of the room, accidentally jerking Theo’s arm. Sister Nelson’s playing has softened to something light and dainty, but every note still pounds in the back of my head.
No, this isn’t the Brother Hutch I watched die in the street. This is a relative—his younger brother.
“Reverend Mother Woodside,” the younger, living Brother Hutch says in greeting. “Brother Clairborne.” That’s Theo. “Oh, Sister Woodside. I’m so happy to see you’ve made it home. We prayed every day for your safe return.”
When I don’t respond, Mom pinches the back of my neck, but Brother Hutch continues anyway.
“Please, I’m forgetting myself. Let me show you to your seats.”
The sanctuary is far too big, another belly swallowing me up just like at Reformation. Reverend Brother Ward, one of Mom’s closest friends in the clergy, stands at the pulpit, surrounded by curtains the color of fresh blood. Everything else is white—the robes, the hands, the faces. It’s wrong. I want to smear everything with dirt and make it right again.
Brother Hutch takes us to the front row, where Sister Nelson’s playing is so loud, I can’t make out my own thoughts. Maybe it’s better this way. I don’t want to think about anything.
I just have to make it until tomorrow. This will all end, and I can see my friends again. That’s it. That’s the plan, that’s what Nick promised. Just until tomorrow.
All of New Nazareth crams itself into the chapel. Even soldiers on duty lurk near the entrance, guns resting across their backs. Brother Hutch leads Sister Kipling to the seat next to Mom’s, but the prophet refuses to make eye contact no matter how hard Mom tries. Sister Nelson moves on to a gentle rendition of “There Is a Fountain Filled with Blood”—Lose all their guilty stains, and sinners plunged beneath the Flood lose all their guilty stains. Theo hums along.
“Now,” Mom murmurs, leaning her head to me. Her gaze doesn’t move from the pulpit. “I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming tomorrow.”