Chapter 5

The sun had come and disappeared two days later making way for more rain. Jack had neither seen nor spoken to Lauren since he had left her alone in their loft. Her words haunted him and he had barely slept since last speaking with her. His mind raced as he thought about what might have been. He thought about her lying and about the loss of the child. He knew now that it wasn’t his, but that didn’t matter. He was deeply saddened by the loss.

Jack lay on his motel room bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the rain. The place was run down, but that was okay. It was on the edge of town across the street from an old Catholic church. The room was darkened from the early morning overcast skies. Every now and then headlights from a car passing by would shine into the room. Jack would stare at the headlights as they danced across the room.

Another hour passed and the headlights shining into Jack’s room began to appear with greater frequency. He sat up and looked through the foot long gape in the curtains. Several cars had already pulled into the parking lot and several more were turning from the road that was beside the church and into the circular drive, dropping their families off and then parking the car. Jack stood up, opened the curtains all the way and sat back down on the bed staring out the window at the church.

It was Sunday morning and people were coming to church.

Eventually the throng of cars slowed down and finally stopped. He looked at the alarm clock on the night stand next to the bed. It was 11:00am. He sat in silence and looked at the church. It was old and its white paint was peeling off on one side. It had a tall steeple with a cross at the top of it. The doors to the church were large and inviting. A sign in front of the church listed the times of worship. It was lit up by two large lights, one on each side. Another light behind the sign, shined directly up the steeple, enlightening the structure and the cross at the top. Jack stared at that cross for a while. He watched the rain fall between the light and the cross. When he glanced back at the clock, it was 11:30am.

Jack felt compelled to go to the church. He sat up from the bed, threw on a t-shirt to go with the jeans he was already wearing, slipped on his flip-flops and walked out the door.

The rain was hard and every few seconds the sound of thunder boomed in the distance. Jack crossed the highway that lay between the church and the motel. He walked up the stairs, opened the door and walked into the church.

The church was welcoming. Old wooden pews were evenly spaced on each side of the church. At least twenty rows per side. The aisle that separated the church was wide and a red carpet flowed from where I stood, up the aisle, then up the stairs that led to the altar.


The altar itself was about as wide as the stage and covered in white. To the right of the altar was a podium at which the priest was lecturing from. Jack sat in the last row and stared at the cross of Jesus that was behind the priest looking down on the congregation. He was soaked from the rain and water rolled down his head and face and landed on his clothes. Jack heard the priest talking, but he wasn’t paying attention. He stared at the cross. Bells rang a couple of times and then the congregation sang a song that was followed by some more discussion by the priest. Eventually the priest ended the service and ceremonially he and the altar boys walked down the middle of the aisle and past Jack. The priest glanced at Jack and nodded. His hands were placed together, his fingers all pointing up. As soon as he passed the rest of the congregation began to file out.

Jack continued to sit there and stare at the cross. Every now and then he would look over his shoulder and watch the priest shake the hand of everyone in the congregation then he looked back up at the cross.

“I haven’t seen you here before.” The priest was now standing behind him; he put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

Startled, Jack turned around and looked at him. His eyes were piercing; the hair that he had left encircled the back of his head and wound down by his ears. It was brown and thin. Jack thought that he was probably in his upper thirties.

“There is no need to get up.” His voice was kind and inviting. “What brings you here, out in this rain?” He finished the sentence with a smile.

“I’m not exactly sure.” Jack answered.

And with that, the priest moved from behind him, walked back towards the aisle, skipped the row that Jack sat in, and went into the pew in front of him, he then kneeled down to one knee while looking at the altar, made the sign of the cross and then entered the row in front of me.

He sat down at an angle in front of Jack, then he turned to him and said, “I guess it doesn’t matter why you are here anymore. What matters is how can I help you?”

“I’m not Catholic.”

“That doesn’t matter and it surely doesn’t mean that I can’t help.”

“I don’t know if anyone can help me.”

“Let’s give it a shot. What’s your story?”

And with that, I began to tell him what had happened.