Shameless

When a sinner goes to church II

Ashly's grasp on his palm tightened slightly as a quick, hard breath slid from between her lips. Cristian raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” he mumbled.

Her lips tightened as she looked over Cristian's shoulder, then leaned in close and said, "I honestly don't understand how he can justify stepping foot in God's house when he lives an openly immoral life, without guilt or regret."

“What?” Cristian sighed and looked around. “Who-?” When Isaac's penetrating gaze captured his as the man went to sit by Faustino, his words were stuck in his throat. Cristian jerked away from Isaac's look, the uncontrollable shaking, the cold sweats, and the general anxiousness all coming back at him full force. Why had he assumed the man had gone?

He became acutely aware of every movement Isaac made just behind him. Even though he couldn't see him, he felt compelled to lean forward and put his elbows on his knees. He wasn't close enough yet for Isaac to sense his illusory breath on the base of the neck, but his illusory breath sufficed.

The preacher approached the platform as he walked by.  Cristian resisted the desire to lean forward to avoid Isaac's gaze. But he didn't want to give the man any more clue that he was going to get him.

You're a hoot, man. He has your phone number and can call it whenever he wants and always get you.

No, it was not appropriate. He's caught Cristian off guard on both occasions. But not this time. He had picked up on Isaac's strategy at this point. As long as he could see it coming, he could fight it. His jaw was clenched with determination. Whatever the man's game was, Cristian had no intention of participating in it.

Simply ignore him. Take a look at Pastor Joaquin. Listen to the sermon. You're going to be OK. You've arrived at God's abode. You are saved.

“Good morning, all of us,” Joaquin said from behind the platform, opening his bible and looking out over the audience. “It's great to have everyone here.”

The tiny throng mumbled their good mornings to him, then became silent again. Cristian concentrated on the man. He had a pleasant demeanor and a nice smile, and he appeared to truly care about people. That should be a given for all pastors, but Cristian had met enough of them to know that they didn't all follow the scriptural advice to love your neighbor as yourself.

“Let us begin with a prayer,” Joaquin said, motioning for everyone to rise.

As the crowd stood nearly simultaneously, a faint rustling of shifting bodies filled the sanctuary. Cristian was among the last to rise to his feet. As Ashly grasped his other hand, he clutched the back of the seat in front of him.

“Let us bend our heads,” Joaquin said.

Everyone's heads are bowed and their eyes are closed. Cristian took a look around the church before closing his eyes and bowing his head. Joaquin began the Morning Prayer, and Cristian attempted to listen but his ears were ringing. He felt eyes on his back but shrugged them off, convinced it was all in his imagination. Isaac's head was undoubtedly bent, as did everyone else's.

Even yet, the small hairs on the back of his neck pricked as if someone was gently stroking him. He adjusted his weight and moved his shoulders gently as if to dismiss the tingling sensation. But it persisted.

His eyelids slowly opened, and he cast a nonchalant glance behind him. Isaac stood next to Faustino, his hands on the back of Cristian's seat. His brow furrowed, yet his eyes were open. As soon as Cristian returned his gaze, he snatched it. Cristian tried to get away, but the man had a near-physical grasp on him. He couldn't make out Isaac's eyes. The man obviously understood how to obscure the glimpse into his soul.

Cristian wasn't sure how long he could stand there, staring at Isaac, until Joaquin cut the prayer short. Amen's. An unexpected whisper shattered the grip, and he turned away quickly, his heart pounding. As he nearly fell back into the seat, his buttocks collided with the pew. His skin felt damp beneath his dress shirt. Isaac's presence was greater than ever before. He believed he could hear every beat of the man's heart, every breath that escaped between his lips.

Cristian's mind reeled as he remembered Isaac's warm breath on his lips and entering inside his mouth.

Cristian clenched his fists and wished the memory was gone. But the aching in his groin would not go away. Anxiety welled up in his stomach as his heart pounded louder, faster, with every image of Isaac kissing him and trapping him against the hearth.

A whimper tried to escape, but he swallowed hard and forced it down. Please, God...not now! Please don't let me think about it here...please don't let me think about it.

The pastor summoned Antoine Break, a sixty-year-old woman dressed in a floral pattern, to the platform to conduct the song service. Antoine was a little woman with a lovely face and loving eyes. During prior ceremonies, Cristian had talked with her in passing several times. She exuded a calmness that Cristian admired. That meant she was on good terms with God, and her place in paradise was guaranteed. Something Cristian was quite certain about not long ago. Now…

As he reached forward and pulled a hymnal from the slot on the backside of Cristian's seat, Isaac cleared his throat and shifted in the seat behind him. For a brief time, the warmth on the back of his neck wasn't his imagination. He forced himself not to move his neck to get rid of the prickling feeling. When he noticed Isaac in his seat, he relaxed a little, but not much.

Ashly took out a hymn book and opened it for Cristian. Singing was the last thing on his mind right now. He couldn't even swallow, let alone speak in a melodious flow.

Antoine announced the page number and music from the podium. Cristian didn't understand a word she said, but Ashly quickly went to the right page. Cristian fixed his gaze on the selected music. “Everyone wishes to get to heaven.”

Everyone stood as organic music filled the air. Cristian sat down again, the dizziness returning. Ashly placed a hand on his shoulder. “Cristian?”

“I'm fine,” he replied gently, motioning for her to proceed without him.

Voices swelled and fell as they sang words of hope for the hereafter. The anxiety increased as the voices merged into a cacophony of buzzing noise until just one voice remained perfectly distinct. Who would have guessed Isaac had an angel's voice?

‘Everybody wants to go to heaven,

Get their wings and fly around.”

The words rolled from Isaac's tongue and landed on Cristian. His head started to throb as he closed his eyes.

‘Someday I want to see those streets of gold in my halo

but I wouldn't mind waiting at least a hundred years or so’

Cristian's head was throbbing and swiping. A searing heat engulfed him, tightening his neck and squeezing his gut. Oh my, I'm going to become ill.

He grasped the back of the seat in front of him and pushed himself up, then went out into the aisle.

Please don’t let me pass out right here in front of everyone. Or worse-vomit on anyone.