Get Me To A Church

CHAPTER 16: BASEMENT

           "This is crazy," Travis said.

           He was totally pale in the face, sweating and biting his knuckle between his teeth. He quickly reached into his pocket and gripped tightly. Whatever he was holding sounded like beads and metal clinking.

           "I knew you wouldn't believe me unless you saw it," I replied cooly. Internally, I was kind of dying, too, because this decision could've been a massive mistake. If Travis went behind my back and told the police about the temple in the basement, we'd have been screwed. Something nuts could've happened, like... the cult temple could've been demolished, or we could've been tortured into not telling what we saw, or worse, we could've been sacrificed to the demon.

           Travis brought the thing in his pocket to his chin, his fist over his mouth: it was a rosary. "This is completely batshit crazy. My dad told me not to go to the apartments. He said it was filled with bad people," Travis declared. "I didn't think there'd be a fucking cult."

           "I'm sorry," I whispered automatically, but I really was the more I thought about it. Travis had been raised to be a nice little Christian boy, and now he was being introduced to the cold, hard truth... or maybe, somehow, he already knew. "You can leave if you want."

           Travis's buggy-eyed face burned holes into the walls. He gulped and shook his head slowly. "I don't think I can. Not after this."

           I sighed deeply. "You can stay with me for as long as you need. You can stay forever, if you don't have any other family," I said.

           Travis nodded quietly. "Yeah." He was hunched a little, like his stomach hurt. "I just... I shouldn't stay. I want to stay, because... you'll be here, and somehow, you... help." He admitted it like it pained him to say it, but he couldn't hold it in anymore. It made me nearly smile. "But at the same time... I know my father is safe. He's my place I go back to, no matter what. He doesn't have cults or demons or monsters. With him, I'm sinless. With him, I'll go to heaven."

           I wasn't offended by his words. "I understand. I don't want to rope you into this, too," I said. "I don't want you to be abused either, though."

           Travis stiffened and stood up straight like I'd pulled a string on his head. I supposed saying "abused" out loud was a bit on the nose.

           "I hate feeling like this," Travis hissed.

           "Like what?"

           "Like weak. Boys are supposed to be strong. They're supposed to know where to go: with your good, holy father, or your queer classmate who lives in a haunted apartment. The answer should be obvious. I shouldn't be saying any of this out loud, but I can't stop myself." He sniffed and looked up to stop any tears from spilling. "I wish I were stronger."

           I almost laughed. "Travis, are you out of your goddamn mind?"

           Travis set his jaw. "What?"

           I stepped toward him. "You're so much fucking stronger than you think. You've faced your dad. You've faced a demon. You've faced a cult temple. You've faced my dumbassery. You can do all of these things all while holding tears in. You're so strong it's unhealthy. Your so-called 'weakness' isn't the problem. It's the opposite: you need to let go. It's okay not to know all the answers. Letting yourself cry is good. Get the machismo out of your head, Travis. You're alright."

           Travis whirled around and glared at me with sheens of tears over his eyes. His hands were shaking, the rosary he was holding now on the dirty, dank floor. "How do you know that? How do you know that the sky won't fall if I'm not perfect?" he yelled.

           "Because no one is," I replied. I grabbed his shaking hands. "Who do you know that's perfect?"

           "God," he responded like a machine. It was in his code. "Jesus."

           I was silent for a moment, thinking about my next move. "Your dad?" I questioned softly.

           His mouth opened defiantly, but no noise came out. A tear escaped his eye and slid down his cheek.

           "You're mortal," I whispered. "It's fruitless to try to perfect yourself. The best thing you can do is to be understanding and polite. Missing church is fine every once in a while. Letting a rude comment come out every once in a while is okay. You just have to try to be a decent person."

           "My dad isn't decent," he muttered, then sucked in his lips like it would stop him from speaking again.

           "So stop trying to be him."

           Travis couldn't say anything else, and I didn't know what else to do, so I released one of Travis's hands, picked up his rosary, and walked him back up the stairs.

● ● ●

           "The demon was summoned by the Super Gear Boy?" Todd asked. "That shouldn't have happened. We banished the demon — it's also not a ghost that died or originated from the apartments, as far as we know. It shouldn't have appeared."

           "How'd you explain it, then?" Larry asked.

           Todd adjusted his glasses and exhaled. "For once, I have no clue. Unless someone summoned the Red-Eyed Demon, it shouldn't have appeared."

           "We deduced the temple hadn't been used in a while, though, right?" Ashley asked. "We all saw it was grimy and dusty in there."

           "Maybe they changed locations?" Larry suggested. Like the cult was a burger chain or a mall.

           "Maybe," I said. "How easy is it to summon a demon in one location and send it to another?"

           "I'd think it would be difficult," Larry decided. "Demons are, like, pure evil or whatever. The Red-Eyed Demon wouldn't  just listen to orders without reason."

           "I agree," Travis added quietly.

           "We can all trust Bible Expert," Larry said genuinely. "And clearly Sal and Travis didn't just summon the demon in the hallway."

           Travis and I glanced at each other.

           "Right?" asked Ashley.

           "You can't accidentally summon a demon," Travis said firmly. He softened up quickly. "Probably. Sal?"

           "I don't know," I muttered helpfully. "Todd?"

           Todd was sitting with his eyebrows bunched together inquisitively. He looked older, stressed. Only the rattling A/C could be heard.

           "I'll look into it," he said simply.