What Comes After

In the beginning

Joe

Deep breaths, in and out. Look out to the sea of people and read the script word from word, just like how father taught me. I turn the first page, raise my hand and suddenly I spoke.

"In the beginning, God created the universe, the world as we know it, the sea and land, and the animals that inhabited it." I paused before continuing. 

"Man, and women." What an arbitrary choice of action. 

"I wonder, did God know why he made man and women then and there? He must've known what would unfold not too soon afterwards right? The ultimate betrayal ever made in our history." It's silly to think that a simple fruit could damn us all. But it did. I looked down at the bible sitting on the podium in front of me, trying to regroup my thoughts. "I can't be the only one to have questioned God at one point, correct?" I look up to see the faces of my flock. Confused, saddened faces, my friends, their families, my family. It was clear to me what they must be thinking of me. But the show must go on, or something like that. 

I finished the sermon with the same thing I say every week "God is all-knowing, and too glorious for our understanding. And we must do everything in his favor." And then a prayer to end the morning. 

As I exit the stage, everyone dismisses themselves to the back of the church to exit. Saying their goodbyes to my family and me. I wonder if they all are the same as me, go home and watch the television, ignoring their wives and husbands and children all together. What kind of life is that? To go without knowing what love really is. 

I drive home with my wife Blaire, and my two children Hope and Wes. Blaire and I married each other in 1961 while she was pregnant with our oldest kid, Rosie. But that was 19 years ago, and I suppose it's been different since then for us.

Blaire was the prettiest girl in our small town, popular too. She was 18, and I was 23 when we finally got together. We would talk and talk about stuff I had low interest in such as the "hot gossip" in town. "Mrs. Albright had an abortion a couple weeks ago now, I can't believe she'd do that." "Josh asked me to the dance next Friday but I told him no because I know you wouldn't want to see me with another man." "Let's start a family, Joe! And get married that way we can be happier with each other." I've heard it all from her. But lately, she hasn't spoken much, almost like she's gone completely mute on me. I wonder if she knew I didn't care at all about any of that stuff. Sometimes it feels like she isn't even there.

My oldest daughter, Rosie was always good at reading people. She loves psychology so now she's in her sophomore year in college another state over. She doesn't visit much or write us back when her mother sends her letters, but I think she's happy where she is. I can't imagine her being frightened, or nervous about this new world she has been exploring. 

Hope, the middle child in our family is an artistic talent. She has an eye for beautiful things and wants to create. I admire her the most out of my children. I think it's because she doesn't have much of an opinion on things like me. We're similar like that. She doesn't speak much or do anything but sit out in the grassy hills in our backyard and draw in her little sketchbook. Anything she sees in a piece of art made just for her to study. What a brilliant mind she has for a sixteen-year-old girl.

And my youngest and only son, Wes short for Westley. He loves to goof off which frustrates my wife, he loves to talk and say whatever is on his mind. Lately, he's picked up a special interest in reading and writing. Anytime I come across him he has a book in his hands and it'll most likely be a Shakespearian novel. The boys only in sixth grade but he seems to have the brains of a genius much like his two older sisters. 

And then there's me, Joe (Joseph) Charles. I don't have much to say about myself. I'm a priest in the Barebrook's town church. I like to have my occasional drink, and I watch football on Sundays even though I don't like football. I only watch it to get out of doing chores or socializing with my wife and her friends. I do like music, I suppose. I'm 42 years old, my birthday is June 3rd, 1938, and I have almost nothing to show for my life's progress. I got married, became a priest, had three kids. But what else? Is there anything else I can do to show that I matter? Do I matter at all? Is this all I can be?