Aberrant: Mutant High - That Old Time Religion [Complete]

[Weft]

Jamie stepped into the chapel, trying to shake the feeling that she didn't belong. It wasn't so different from her church back home, really - except, you know, for the cruxifix at the back of the chapel, instead of a cross, all the antiquated-looking murals on the walls, the priestly vestments, the lack of a cross or crucifix around the priest's neck, the little kneeling thingies in the pews...yeah, other than that, it was Faith Lutheran Church made over. She found an empty seat in the back and sat down, straightening her dark green skirt and crossing herself hastily, thankful that at least that ritual was familiar, fallen into disuse though it was in some Lutheran churches.

"The lord be with you!" the priest intoned.

"And also with you," the congregation answered back.

"We lift up our hearts."

"Let us lift them up to the lord..."

Oh, and the elaborate liturgy. That was new too. If this went on, Jamie didn't know how the priest was going to squeeze a sermon in there. Maybe he didn't.

[Atomicweasel]

Ren stumbled into the chapel mid-sermon. Fuck. I'm early. he realized with a wave of cold dread. That meant staying for the rest of the stupid sermon or offending one of his regulars by turning on a dime and whisking out. Ren was sorely tempted to do the latter...but Father Gerald always paid, never complained, and made things easy. It was refreshing to peddle a fantasy where the worst that ever happened was that Gerald's kid dropped his ice-cream cone. In a way, Ren had almost come to anticipate their weekly sessions as much as the priest. Gerald's imaginary boy was always treated with such blind approval and selfless devotion...it was hard not to feel a certain pang, of what, longing, jealousy, empathy? Ren couldn't put his finger on it. But then, of course, Father Gerald was a sad fuck-up of a man, and there was always that...bittersweet flavor.

Still. Ren was curious to see what Gerald would want to do with his boy today. He hadn't done Disney World in a while...and Ren was secretly hopeful for that as he cast about, looking for some place to park himself and ride out the drivel.

He spied Jamie, sitting by herself in a back row. I know that girl... The portal maker. Friend of Sonja. Jenny something. No. Jackie.

Ren plopped himself down next her. She was cute, worth at least a second glance. Nice calves. he thought, glancing down at her matronly skirt. "Hey."

[Weft]

Okay. This sermon homily crap thing was boring as hell. The priest wasn't getting into it deep enough to make it intellectually stimulating, and he wasn't being whimsical enough to be fun. Jamie sighed and looked down, fingering her prayerbook. She flipped the funny little kneeler thing down, then slowly slid it back up again, careful not to make a noise. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down -

"Hey."

She turned, surprised to hear somebody speak so loudly while the priest was in the middle of his spiel (something about kids being a treasure or similar rot), and raised her eyebrows at him. He...well, okay, he didn't look too bad, but Jamie still did not approve. Church was supposed to be Serious Business, not a walk down the runway. But oh well. She looked closer, taking in his face and came to another quick conclusion: this guy's kinda cute. So she decided not to ignore him.

"Hey," she whispered. "Do I know you?"

[Atomicweasel]

"Yeah, sure. You're..." here Ren paused, squinting at Jamie. She wasn't nearly as beautiful as Oneca, but she was cute. Really, really cute. So much so that Ren had to fight an urge to reach out and pinch her cheek...or something else worth pinching. Hair's a little dykey though...voice is kinda mannish. He concluded. Still...

"Jackie. It's Jackie, right?" He prayed that it was.

"I've seen you around campus before." I just never realized you were pretty enough to bother talking to...why the fuck is that?

[Weft]

Jamie blinked, and then smiled wryly. "Um, actually it's Jamie. And I think I do know you! Kinda. You were with Oneca that day, right? You drugged her up or something." Jamie didn't sound particularly alarmed by any of this - curious if anything. But she's also taking pains not to touch Ren, and her eyes glint with a little more intelligence than perhaps Ren anticipated. She crossed her legs, smiling softly to herself and exposing a bit more calf.

Short hair and mannish voice aside, the girl has killer calves.

[Atomicweasel]

Ren glanced down as Jamie recrossed her legs. He pulled his eyes up with a blush and dropped his voice to a careful whisper.

"Right, yes. Jamie. I don't think I've had you...in any of my classes." He looked at her eyes, noted the savvy sparkle there. "I was, yeah...that was me with Oneca." Ren pushed his palm over the stubble of his hair. "But I didn't drug her, no way. I was just...we were just messing around," he concludes with an abashed grin. "It wasn't like that...Bar--Sonja totally took it the wrong way. You're friends with her, right?"

Ren's eyes cut quickly back to the girl's calves. Then up again.

[Weft]

Jamie eyed him. She'd caught the glance at her legs, of course, and was secretly torn between being pleased and being wary. Obviously this guy was constantly on the prowl, but he might not be too bad. Where was this going?

"Friends might be a bit of an exaggeration," she said dryly. "We just met that day." Her eyes narrowed, though there was a slightly wicked grin on her lips. "Why? You still after her sister?"

[Atomicweasel]

Wow, this chick likes to cut through the bullshit, Ren thought. Which meant, if she was asking, that she was at least a little interested. Ren answered her first with a short chuckle, buying himself enough time to figure out what to say.

"Do I look that suicidal?" He grinned back at Jamie. "I mean...she's a nice girl and all..." and I absolutely want to get in her pants "but Sonja doesn't like me much and you know, baby sister..." Ren trailed off, still grinning wryly at Jamie.

"So," he teased, "you're not one of her little lackeys, not a dues-paying member of the Barbie fan-club? You just happened to be there to help her rescue her sister from the big bad wolf?"

[Weft]

"Actually, I was there to rescue her from this new girl, Morri. She's feral or something. There was some kind of altercation and my roommate almost got stabbed, so Sonja grabbed Morri and carried her off. I was there in case things turned sour for her...but then she got distracted."

The homily was wrapping up. They'd take communion shortly, in all likelihood. Except Jamie, who was very much not Catholic.

She smiled at him, deciding to tease back. "And I don't think the wolf was that big or bad. It was puppy love. All bark and no bite."

[Atomicweasel]

"That's what I keep trying to tell people!" Ren blushed, lifting his shoulders into a shrug. "I'm totally harmless. Well, mostly harmless." He confessed, sinking a little lower into the bench.

He crossed his hands in front of him and looked sidelong at Jamie while Father Gerald started oragnizing people for their communion. Then, perfectly dead-pan and inscrutably Asian, he offered her his hand and whispered, "I'm Ren. You come here often?"

Only the little twist at the corner of his lip as he failed to keep a straight face gave him away.

[Weft]

"Only on Sundays," she threw back, taking his hand. "I'm Jamie, as we established. Is this your first time to a Catholic Mass?" She leaned forward to say it, as if asking a very personal question that was best not overheard by anyone else. Her breath didn't tickle his ear but it totally could have. "I haven't seen you cross yourself once."

[Atomicweasel]

"Oh, shit. Is that what you're supposed to do?" Ren whispered back. He met Jamie's eyes and shook his head, looking a little amused.

"I'm not Catholic." He answered. Then, mimicking her--but without malice--he too leaned forward to privately consult her ear, an ear he found himself liking the shape of: shell-like. Delicate. Cute. Now I'm noticing girls' ears? he wondered as he dropped his loaded question.

"Are you?"

And Ren's breath did more than tickle Jamie's ear. From one moment to the next, his voice had subtly changed, and it seemed to come as much from inside Jamie as from without. So that those two little words, spoken so off-handedly, seemed charged with a peculiar intimacy and intensity, as if, suddenly so much depended on her answer.

(ooc: teh voice!!11 but just for effect and not to subordinate her will in anyway)

[Weft]

"No," Jamie said in a low voice, shivering. God, his voice was divine. She couldn't really sing anymore, except to herself, and so she was always, at least in a remote back part of her brain, on the lookout for good voices, and imagining her guitar strumming behind them.

And nothing turned her on like a good set of pipes.

"I'm a Lutheran," she said, as though imparting a great secret. "That's why I'm not getting up to take communion."

[Atomicweasel]

"No shit!?" Ren whispered, his eyes going wide, his grin going broad. "I'm Lutheran!" he clasped a hand to his chest, then cast a glance over the top of the row, and turned back to Jamie with a flustered blush.

"I'm Lutheran too," he repeated more quietly, in the same hushed and honeyed tones. "what denomination are you?"

[Weft]

"Missouri Synod," she said quietly, letting his voice wash over her. Kinda reminded her of Turretin mixed with...Orson Welles? And something Asian thrown into the mix.

"Don't tell me," she said wryly. She kinda suspected bullshit, but who cared? It was an understandable and slightly endearing bullshitting, if so. "You're Missouri Synod too?"

[Atomicweasel]

Ren shook his head. That's not the one. He tried hard to remember back to Sunday School. What the hell had their denomination been? Mom must've told him at some point.

He chewed his lip, and glanced sidelong at Jamie. "Um. No. Not Missouri...it's um..." he paused to squint at her fiercely, as if she held the answer and he were tugging it right out of her. "It's...what the heck is it? Starts with an E...it's based out of Illinois..." Ren shook his head again, despairingly.

"Obviously, I didn't take it way too seriously...but, you know, we're all Lutherans in Minnesota. Practically. It's like a State Law. Must be Lutheran."

[Weft]

"Ahh." The ELCA, she added in her head. Well, they were Liberal, but oh well. At least they had something to talk about now. "So, what're your plans after this?" Jamie asked boldly, deciding to take the bull by the horns. "Do anything special on Sundays, when you're not fraternizing with papists?" She smiled a little, to soften the edge of that last bit - after all, she was here too.

[Atomicweasel]

"Oh, yeah...no. I mean, I don't have any plans." Ren held up a finger. "Well, but...I've gotta see Father Gerald. We do like a, bible study thing, spritual counseling sort of...you know. That won't take long...and then I've just gotta meet this fucking kid for a minute or two."

Ren paused, took another surreptious glance at Jamie's calves. "But um, here, let's do this...gimme your number and I'll give you a call and we can do dinner or hang out for a bit or...Do it like they do on the Discovery Channel...listen to some music or whatever. Sound cool?"

Ren was already fishing for his cell-phone.

[Weft]

Jamie considered for a moment. Meh. Why the hell not? She gave him her number. "Sounds good. Don't let me hold you up, darlin'." Communion was over and people were beginning to leak out, as they always did during the last hymn. Jamie stood as well, brushing past Ren to get out of the pew. She knelt in the direction of the altar briefly, thinking, eh, he's the first boy who's shown any interest in me since I got here. Maybe that's what I need. Maybe I'm too timid.

And then she was out, being pushed along by the less pious crowd, the churchy types singing the last strains of "Adoro Te Devote" over her shoulder, but she spared one last glance and a wink for the boy behind her.

...Jesu, whom for the present veiled I see,

What I so thirst for, oh, vouchasafe to me

That I may see Thy countenance unfolding,

And may be blest Thy glory in beholding.

[Atomicweasel]

When Jamie glanced back she found Ren still looking after her as she was hurried out the doors by those eager to be done with their lip-service to their religion. Her wink was answered with a boyish grin and he mouthed 'bye' at her before she was swept along and out into the snow.

Ren sat on the wooden bench, leaning forward to rest his arms over the next bench in front of him. He repeated Jamie's number in his head as he punched through the menus of his iPhone and added the entry: Jamie.

Finally, Father Gerald had said goodbye to the last of his little flock, and when he saw he was the only other person left in the Chapel, Ren rose and strode over to the priest.

"Father." They shook hands as they always did, and Father Gerald led Ren back to the little office connected to the East wing of the Chapel. Ren looked around the room, as Father Gerald shrugged out of his robe and hung it up behind the door.

"Thank you for coming, Ren." Gerald said in that sad serious voice of his.

"Not a problem, Father. What's it gonna be tonight?"

"I thought...perhaps, an evening at the theater." Gerald said.

"Movies are kinda tough, Father." Ren admitted. "Even the ones I've seen, well, there's always something to miss, you know? It's not like I've got 'em memorized. Scene by scene. It might feel...fakey. How 'bout dinner?" Ren's mind was on food anyway. "I could set up a nice dinner." Plus that way we can sit the fuck down and I don't have to keep you from banging into your desk every minute.

"Alright. That sounds nice." Gerald said agreeably. He took his seat at the desk and waited for Ren to seat himself across from him. As always, Ren turned the picture of the tow-headed boy on the priest's desk, angling it to face towards him.

"You've just sat down at a nice restaurant with your son, he's excited about it, you can tell..." Ren began after a small pause. His words filled the priest's senses. They were not simply heard. They were felt. Ren's magical voice spread its warmth through him like a sip of wine on a cold evening...and his office disappeared.

He was in the crowded intimacy of a fine Italian restaurant, the lights dimmed, the atmosphere cozy. Across from him at the table where he sat, his son, his boy, was looking all around him, saucer-eyed, at the pictures hanging from the walls.

"What's that, dad?"

"That's Venice." Gerald smiled at his child. He could feel the built up longing in his chest expand into equal measures of sadness and hapiness.

"How come they've got water under their streets like that?"

"That's how the city was built. People get along on skinny cannoes instead of cars."

"Nuh uh..."

Gerald's smile made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Yup." He would have liked to stay like this forever. To watch his son from across the table, to see him take pleasure in his food, attacking the lasagna the waiter brought them with all the voracious appetite of youth, to delight in the way his son turned his face and fingers into a greasy buttery mess, that he, Gerald, could reach across and wipe clean again. And Gerald tried to fit all the love he had for his son into that gentle parental gesture. And when his son smiled back at him, he felt he had. He felt so pure and whole and he wished the feeling might never end...

But the dinner did end, and when he stood to take his son back out to the car, he was no longer in the restaurant. He was in his small plain office, blinking at the harsh white light and watching Ren work his arms back into his expensive looking coat.

"Thank you, Ren. You have a true gift." The priest said thickly. "Here. As we agreed." He fumbled with his wallet and produced a twenty dollar bill, sliding it across the desk to Ren. He felt hollow. His fingers trembled.

"Sure. I'll see you next week." Ren answered awkwardly, tucking the bill into his jeans pocket. He turned away quickly before he could see the tears in Father Gerald's eyes or note the way the man's shoulders sagged with the weight of reality.

Ren hurried out of the Chapel, looking forward to dinner with Jamie. Father Gerald's fantasy had left him starving.

Back in his office, Father Gerald sighed as he sank into his chair. He reached out, took the picture of his son in its plain wooden frame, and held it to his heart.