Get Me To A Church

CHAPTER 4: EXCUSED

TRAVIS

           I carefully cracked open the doors of the church. Dad obviously wasn't sitting around in the lobby, but I knew that God was watching my every move. Maybe, if I was quieter, sneakier... he wouldn't mind that I was about to lie to my Dad.

           I saw the receptionist smile widely at me with perfectly straight, white teeth. "Good afternoon, Travis! What can I help you with?" she asked. She'd always seemed so friendly... now that I knew I was betraying the church, she seemed scary.

           "Oh, I-I was just going to tell my dad that I would be out," I said nervously, all one jumble I had to get out. "I'm going to have flyers to spread the good news o-of the Lord."

           "Alrighty, then! Should I go and tell him for you?"

           If I didn't tell Dad personally, he would put another bruise on my face. "No thanks." I said. "I'm just gonna... tell him... He's not in the middle of a sermon, is he?"

           She shook her head exaggeratedly and grinned. "No! Go on ahead!"

           I ducked my head and walked towards the next set of doors, mumbling a thank you. I could feel her eyes burning through the back of my skull like a hawk. I pushed open the doors and kept walking down the grandiose halls, lit by ancient-looking chandeliers. I'd gone there for Sunday school since I was four, then youth group since I was eight. Finally, I started going to the adult services and had been since I was thirteen. I knew its corridors like the back of my hand. I took a left, a right, and another right and I was at my dad's office. I shakily knocked on the door.

           The door swung open and revealed my dad in his clergy clothes: black pleated pants, shiny dress shoes, and a collar. He looked down at me with a stink eye that made my heart stop no matter how many times I saw it. I reached up to the bruise on my chin and pressed on it — a reminder. I winced in pain.

           "What do you need?" he asked coldly.

           "I-I just wanted to let you know that I'd be out giving people fliers today... instead of being home. I won't miss dinner," I explained quietly.

           He scrunched his face up; I never realized how much he looked like me. "Why have you decided to do that today instead of coming home?" he asked slowly, suspicious.

           He didn't give a damn when I ran away at night and was with Sal, so I didn't know why he bothered now. Sal asked about me, which couldn't be normal. Now my dad was more aggravating and terrifying, which was so weird. Compared to Sal, he seemed like the Devil. Sal should seem like the sinner. "Just wanted some... uh, some fresh air." I pressed on the bruise again. It was my way of facepalming for my own idiocy.

           He glared a moment longer, then closed the door til it was only ajar. "Come back by dinner, you hear me, boy?" he hollered through the crack.

           I squeezed my eyes shut. "Yes, Dad."

           "Then get out." He slammed the door shut.

           I popped one eye open, then the other. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and smiled for the first time that week. Rubbing the metal cross that hung around my neck with my fingers, I looked up at the ceiling and silently thanked God for allowing me to break just one rule.

           When I ran back outside, Sal stood there waiting, fingers twitching oddly. I wondered if that was a habit or something he did on purpose.

           "We can go now," I said, being as curt as possible. It was better to be defensive rather than open, or you would be impressionable. I didn't want Sal to affect me more than he already had.