Everyone is absolutely fine | Short Story
In which everything and everyone is absolutely fine in Barkers Wood. Nothing strange or weird is happening anywhere. Just commitment to the community...
You’ve finally escaped the prison you were born in. Or as others know it, the town of Farley, Maine. You’ve managed to escape, a feat performed by few where you’re from. You’ve made it to the much larger town of Barkers Wood.
It’s perfectly normal. Respectable houses, good schools, low crime rates, even lower rates of teen pregnancy. This will be a fantastic place to raise your family. You’re even within walking distance of your new church.
Morai Tabernacle is a bright, airy building filled with sunlight shining through a huge cross shaped window behind the pulpit. It sits at the apex of the street from which it gets its name, in perfect view of all the identical white houses that line the street. You see it every morning when you open your curtains and again every night as you draw them closed.
Pastor Jacob is a friendly man who welcomes you and your family. Your son Danny has already found a friend. Sammy will take a little more convincing but she’ll come round. Your wife is happy. The other women have made her feel welcome. Morai Tabernacle is a home away from home.
It’s the fourth Sunday since you moved to town. Sammy stayed at her friends last night and isn’t back yet. Danny has a baseball game early in the morning. Your wife convinces you that missing church for one Sunday isn’t a sin. You aren’t sure but you relent. You’ve had a long week and deep down you want the morning to rest, even though it makes you uneasy how comfortable you are away from church.
You both take Danny to his match. He hits a home run and they win the game. Danny is delighted, proudly wearing the simile of a winner and wildly swinging the bat that scored the winning run.
On the way back through town you pass the church. The congregation is filing out, shaking hands with Pastor Jacob as they leave. You turn to watch and see them all look up at you. They stare.
Your wife doesn’t notice. Danny is reliving the glory of his home run. The congregation stares at you as you pull into your drive, watching as you step out of the car and walk up the steps onto your porch.
They watch you unlock the door and step into your house. They’re still watching as you close your blinds. You’re still the only one who has noticed.
An hour passes. Your wife is making lunch, filling the house with the scent of cooked chicken, steamed vegetables and fresh bread. Danny is playing computer games upstairs and Sammy is due home from her friends any moment now. You hear a knock at the door.
You open the door and see Pastor Jacob.
“Hi there,” he says in his thick Mississippi accent.
“Hello Pastor,” you say with the tone of a boy who’s stepped out of line. “We’re very sorry—”
“--would you mind if I came in for a quick chat?”
You nod and invite him in. Your wife brings you iced tea, smiling at the pastor and wishing him well. He smiles back and thanks her for the tea but doesn’t drink it.
It’s hot in the house. You’ve still not had a chance to look over the AC and the unseasonably cold June you’ve been having hasn’t given you much cause to push it up your to-do list. That AC is all you can think about now as the sweat sticks your white shirt to your back. Pastor Jacob’s looks as he always did. Pristine, proper and wearing the kind of smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes.
“I trust you know why I’m here,” Pastor Jacob asks you.
“I’m sorry we missed church this morning Pastor,” you say, readying your excuses like a batter waiting for the next pitch.
The tea remains untouched on the side table.
“Yes, that was unfortunate,” he says. “We value commitment here.”
“Yes, I understand and we’re very committed to our faith, Pastor,” you reply, feeling ever more like that little boy being reprimanded by their disappointed father. He smiles at you, all pure white teeth on show.
“Why of course,” he says, “We understand that. We’re all committed to the faith too.”
The ice in the tea is melted now.
“It’s just, we had a busy morning,” you say.
“Yes, a busy morning. We understand. It’s just our congregation values commitment. If one member of the flock strays we all stray.”
“I understand that Pastor,” you say, “but God is with us wherever we go, isn’t he?”
“Of course he is,” Pastor Jacob replies. “It’s just that we value commitment here. You are committed to us aren’t you?”
“We’re committed to our faith, yes.”
“Ah yes, your faith.”
You look out through the living room windows into the street. congregation is gathered outside Morai Tabernacle, still watching you.
“We’re all very committed to our faith,” the pastor repeated. “But are you committed to us?”
You don’t know how to reply.
“Is everything okay, pastor?”
He smiles at you again. In his sky blue suit, with slicked back black hair, he resembles one of those used car salesman you used to see in strip malls when you were growing up.
“Of course,” he replies.
“We’ll be sure not to miss another week,” you say.
“Good. Because we really do value commitment here.”
He stands up, flashes you that same smile and leaves. You watch through the front door as he rejoins his congregation. They all file away,one by one until just Pastor Jacob remains, standing on the steps looking out at the street.
You can feel him looking at you through your front door, through the blinds and curtains. You can feel his eyes on you as you shower and sleep and make love you your wife. You can see that smile and those teeth every time you blink.
You’re convince yourself it’s nothing. Just that nervous temperament the nurse warned you about as kid back in Farley. It’s just a new town with new people. Everyone worships in different ways. Everyone lives their lives in different ways.
Treat others how you would want to be treated. Commit to the community and you’re sure you’ll all be happy here. You’re sure that things will settle in time. And most of all, as you watch the pastor standing on the steps of the all seeing church at the apex of Morai street, you’re sure that everyone is absolutely fine.
I got a kick out of this. I enjoy how you’re trying to do less in a story. Showing how the painted lines that establish where normalcy lies are pretty narrow and also they’re just painted on.
Nothing more scary than religious people, good story!