tumbataure | 178th page

You just missed the service.

[looks up where he's leaning down to pick up the good word some careless bitch left open on a bench. pauses mid-grab because he spoke before he saw who it was. gets caught staring too long because he's never seen the dude in the church before. or because he's familiar despite that. who knows. this town is whack.]

Sergei, right? [did he say that right. he didn't. oh well.]

[ has this sense that he spends a lot of time in church. or at least in prayer. listening to prayers? prayers in that voice, but that'd be completely backwards. father remington would be the one listening. ]

[ one hand on the back of a pew, staring-too-long down at him. ]

[ snaps out of it when the priest says that name. like, it isn't the name he's supposed to say. maybe it's because he mispronounced it. ]

Right. I...can come back some other time, if you're occupied.

[straightens up and shakes his head, tucking the book back into its little cubby. you're looking kinda stressed out there guy. i guess that goes hand in hand with the grooms not talking to the priest until the day before their wedding]

Do you wanna speak privately?

If it isn't too much an inconvenience.

[ stressed is one way of putting it. hasn't slept in...well. he just doesn't remember sleeping at all, and that can't be healthy. ]

It's what I'm here for.

[waves an arm for him to follow and points to confessional in question? or to a private office instead? pointy fingers going every which way. take your pick. you never know]

[ nods in the direction of the confessional. somehow he's sure he won't be able to concentrate if he can see the priest's face while they talk. ]

[confessional it is. steps up into his little booth and closes the door behind himself, takes a seat on the stool. waits for him to get situated and turns toward lattice that separates them with a clearing of his throat]

Okay? How long has it been since your last. Confession. [you know, to our busty overlord. this is weird. it shouldn't be. he can't shake the familiarity. rubs a hand over his forehead and waits for him to say his part]

[ tries to think of the last one. what was the date? what time of day was it? he can't think of a single instance of Confession, but he's sure he's a spiritual man. no part of him doubts the presence of the divine. he wets his lip and glances at the lattice. ]

I fear it must have been a while, uh. Father.

[ no, wait, he knows. it was midday, and it was sunny. and there were children laughing nearby. ]

Yeah, we'll just go with a while.

[considering i've never seen your face up in my confessional before. maybe. ??]

Then what brings you here today?

[glances at the divider expectantly. go on with your bad self.]

I have questions. I have...doubts.

[ rubs away a bit of sweat from his temple. ]

I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore.

[ green grass and trees and the bright sun glinting off metal monkey bars. what the hell are monkey bars? ]

[watches the bottom of the screen for too many seconds to be kosher before looking up with a start, like he got lost in thought and forgot he was in the middle of something. absent-minded priest.]

-About your marriage?

[ marriage? what? oh right. ]

Y-yes, that's. That must be it. But there's no "out." Only duty.

[ oh ow. ow that hurt. has to cover his eyes with a hand for a minute. ]

Hey. You okay?

[turns attention to him again through all the nam flashbacking. touches the screen between them, apprehensive. you need a doctor or something. spiritual healing. exorcism. aspirin]

[ winces and looks back up at the screen, the shape of his hand outlined there. ]

A headache, I'm just. It's the stress, I'm sure. Thank you.

[ sits up straighter so he can stare a bit more. ]

Sure. [looks at him warily before taking hand down and continuing]

Well if you ask me- [i don't know. are you asking me. usually they're asking him] -you gotta do what's right. For you. You've always gotta choice. Might not like the options, but they're there.

[ looks at his own hands in absence of the one on the screen. kind of huffs a little laugh at that advice. ]

You suggesting I...what? Rip up the rules? [ rubs the back of his neck and hunches a little. ] Choice. What if I make the wrong choice? How am I supposed to know?

Well you won't know until you make it. That's kinda the whole point. But I can tell you, if somethin don't sit right with you, that's worth checkin out.

[yes. rip up those rules. throw them away. how did he make it into priesthood. no one will ever know. maybe this religion values smartmouthed little rebels]

Feelin like crap is usually the first sign you're doin somethin you shouldn't.

[ watching his silhouette and trying to understand what he's getting at. how frustrating it must be to be a priest, like trying to teach poetry to fish. ]

What did you feel, Father? When you were about to be married?

[narrows eyes briefly before looking down, knows he didn't mean to turn it on him, but he can't help react defensively.]

Like I was doin the right thing.

[he doesn't really remember, which is weird. how they met or why or where but it doesn't matter much, just that they did it for the kid and, well aaron may not make his heart pound but he's a good guy. usually. he could have done worse.]

Do you? Feel like it's the right thing?

[he'll just redirect that back around because delving into his history is equal parts confusing and headache-inducing at the moment for reasons unknown]

No. No, I don't, not at all. But whenever I try to do the right thing, I always end up ruining--[ exasperated headshaking ]everything?

[ why does he think that. ]

He has someone, I know that he does. And she's very kind, good to him, I'm certain. Who am I to take him away from her?

[ starts to chew on a thumbnail, because it's making his stomach churn that he can't see the priest's face. they've only just met but he trusts this man, bone-deep and deeper. ]

[doesn't question his assertion that he's a ruiner. which is probably one of the shittiest things that could choose to bubble up from the memory bank first but there it is. just takes it at face value.]

Sounds like you already got it worked out. I mean, you know there's a right and a wrong here.

[he's not gonna tell him what to do because it's not his place, but he can catholic guilt trip him six ways from sunday]

It sounds so simple when you say it like that. [ the next is softer, half to himself, but half intended for the priest to hear it. ] Where were you before, when I needed to hear it.

[furrows eyebrows, defensive again. he's never gotten so defensive with someone before. it's his job to sit and listen and offer advice, try to help, be some kind of guide. not take offense to every little thing. shifts in annoyance, throwing a glance at the divider. an automatic response comes to mind, like when you run through an argument in your head after it's already through, but it's too biting and he rewords it slowly, in that way you can tell he's being careful with what he says]

I'm always here if you need to talk.

[ isn't normally so aggressive either, but he feels trapped in this booth, like he can't leave until the priest releases him. double-takes when the response sounds a little wrong, like when an actor goes off script. ]

[ but this sounds so much better than what he'd been expecting it helps him to relax, shoulders sloping instead of winding tight. he leans closer to the lattice, trying to watch the man's eyes to see how sincere he is. ]

But what if it's too late now. What if I can't turn back?

[looks down at his lap when he leans in and smiles nervously, scratching at his forehead. are we still talking about the wedding. this is a very nervewracking confession]

You can uh, you can always turn back. Right up till the edge of that cliff. Sorry, I just, are you sure you've never been in here before because I could swear-

[can't help but veer into the unprofessional but it's bothering the holy hell out of him]

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