Cramped Quarters - Love Under Lockdown

Chapter Thirteen - RachelIt really wasn’t what I’d planned. Things had gone well. Better than expected, actually, if I were to be super honest. I really didn’t think it would be possible for us to cross our obvious divide.

Or, at least, so I’d assumed.

Looking at it in light of the new information, what I thought would be a Grand Canyon of irreconcilable difference tuned out to be more of a puddle.

I tried my best to process it all. Almost every word from Augustus, either typed or spoken, since we started messaging that fateful morn, had been another shock to my system.

Everything I’d thought I’d known had being smashed like glass under a hammer. I was reexamining all my former thoughts and prejudices.

The Seven Tenets, as Augustus had put them, sounding like the most beautiful set of ideals I’d ever heard. Rational, practical and empathetic at the same time. Really basic, fact-based things that it honestly felt that all people could embrace. Even if they already had a religious belief.

Nothing I’d heard really contradicted the monotheism I knew. Even if it did have a few welcome additions like personal autonomy. If anything, the Jesus I knew would agree with most of it.

I wasn’t about to ‘switch teams,’ my faith far too precious to me, despite some uglier side effects. Though I would never forget what Augustus had told me, showing a better, more compassionate way to think and live.

“I’m sorry,” I said, finally pulling away.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For whatever I did, to upset you.”

“Oh, oh, no. You didn’t upset me. Quite the opposite, you freed me!”

“From what?”

“Prejudice. I never had any idea about any of it. We were taught that anyone not like us was a heathen and therefore our enemy. Including Jews and Mormons. Mom tried to point out that Jesus was a Jew. Dad called her a filthy liar and broke her jaw.”

“Your dad sounds like a real charmer,” Augustus said, dripping with sarcasm.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“He gave you that?”

I followed his arm to the cross. Unconsciously, I covered it with my hand, embarrassed by how it looked.

“Yes, but I deserved it.”

“No. I don’t care what you did. No one deserves to be mutilated like that. Especially not a kid.”

“How did you know I was a kid?”

“I started with your current age and subtracted the level of healing. My baby sister is fifteen.”

“Do you have anything?” I asked.

“Not like that. All of mine were voluntary. Like I said, my body is mine, along with all my senses, for both pleasure and pain.”

“That’s what upsets you, isn’t it? Not the fact of the brand but because I was so young and didn’t and couldn’t consent to it. I-I was forced.”

“Damn right you were, and if I ever meet your dad, I am going to give him a piece of my mind. I have a lot to spare.”

The giggle was wildly inappropriate but there was still nothing I could do about it. It wasn’t the threat against my dad that tickled me so much as his manner of delivery of the threat.

I didn’t think for a second that Augustus would actually hurt him. Aside from his stated principles, he just didn’t seem like the type. I’d seen violence in a man’s eyes and Augustus just didn’t have the look. But it was sweet that he was so concerned and wanted to protect me.

“I could use a drink, how about you?” he asked me.

“I don’t know. I don’t really drink. Except communion wine.”

“Obviously,” Augustus mused, searching fruitlessly through the kitchen.

“I think there’s some cider in the fridge,” I told him.

“Bingo,” Augustus said, coming up with two bottles of soft apple cider.

Popping them with the bottle-opener, he returned victorious, handing me one. We were a lot closer, both personally and physically, as I’d scooted over to the middle cushion.

I’d already wrapped myself around him like a baby koala and really didn’t see what it hurt. I figured if Jesus had been friends with tax collectors and prostitutes, I could be friends with a Satanist.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What happened to your eye?”

I thought he might leave. At least with the slow way he put his bottle on the coffee table and wouldn’t look at me.

“How much detail do you want?”

“All of it.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t even have to think about it.

It was clear he had something to get off his chest, and I was happy to help him carry that load. He’d already helped me so much.

“It was shrapnel.”

“Someone shot you?”

“No, not directly, anyway.”

Augustus took a deep breath and let it out, rubbing the palms of his hands nervously on his pant legs.

“It’s going to be a bit of a long story.”

“We’ve got time.”

“True.”

Recovering the cider, he took a big, long swig, emptying nearly half the bottle before beginning. I didn’t have the heart to remind him that it was non-alcoholic.