Immortal Dichotomy

Chapter Two: Ciyoka

"And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't
'Cause if I say I miss you I know that you won't
But I miss you in the mornings when I see the sun
Something in the orange tells me we're not done

To you I'm just a man, to me you're all I am
Where the hell am I supposed to go?
I poisoned myself again
Something in the orange tells me you're never coming home"

-Zach Bryan

Devin killed the engine and peered through the windshield at the limestone blocks which constructed the exterior of the castle-like palatine basilica. Saint Andrews Catholic Church, in Juliette, was the closest town – if you could call fifteen houses, one USPS mail-deposit box, two churches, three streets, and a railroad cutting through the middle a town – to the Anthonys' property. Jim and Hilda Anthony were the owners of the six-thousand-acre farm that Devin helped manage. He took a deep breath and let out a brief sigh, thinking he must be out of his mind to be seeking the opinion of some catholic priest. He believed in God, sure, but he wasn't so sure of sending his prayers to the Virgin Mother Mary. His stomach rumbled, and he decided that food was more important to him than seeking the meaning of some stupid dream. Devin started his truck and put it in reverse, looking over his shoulder as he began to back out of the parking space. Besides, the whole thing felt entirely too cliché in his mind, and he thought he might have to give the King fiction a break as he put the massive Chevrolet in gear and drove back through Juliette to the main road.

What Devin really wanted to do was to go see his girlfriend, she would know how to frame it, and how to smile about it, too. He had the urge to blow-up her phone with some lengthy texts, or maybe a few calls, but he knew that she was in class. And knew that hell hath no fury like a pissed off girlfriend. Maddi was the only person he was comfortable talking to about the dream, as he tossed that bit of information around his mind he stopped the truck in the middle of the lane, it was a grey Silverado 3500 HD. Its engine purred while Devin looked out at someone's fodder crop that ran along the edge of his side of the road at the very edge of town. If he kept hassling Maddi about it, she was bound to do one of two things, either flip-out on him; or get so distracted helping him out that she fell behind in school. Devin swore out loud and pulled into an empty lot across from the field to turn around. He had to figure this out on his own, which he couldn't do alone, so he'd just have to suck it up, skip lunch, and feel a little cliché.

When he pulled in front of the church again, he parked in the same place, even though the truck was the only vehicle on the entire street. Devin killed the engine and got out of the truck before he could change his mind (again) about conferring with the parish. It was ridiculous but it had to be done. He left the keys in the ignition; highly doubting the crime rate – if there even was crime – in Juliette was high enough to warrant taking the keys with him or locking his doors. He shut the truck door and stepped over the curb, walking towards the main entrance of the church. The walk was just long enough for him to look up at the massive bell tower, which was taller than Juliette's dingy water-tower, the church was almost impressive yet ordinary compared with the fact that every building in Kansas pre 1900 seemed to be made with the same dreary, yellow-bleeding-black limestone. A place where the places of worship were as miserable looking as the prisons. Before he could bring his pondering gaze back to the earth, he noticed three black turkey buzzards perched on a ledge surrounding the belltower; there mean, red faces silently staring down at him like a bad omen from the West. Devin promised himself – with a slight smile surfacing – that if he came out of church alive, he'd never return to their hallowed grounds... the over-sized red front doors of the church opened with no resistance when he made his solemn entrance.