Indignant Heart

Chapter 7: Resentment

"In Jesus' name, we pray, Amen."

How long did that last? Five minutes? I'd rather be a nun. Are they kidding me?

"Oh Zachary, you've made it again." The pastor looked pleased.

Ever since that boy came in, I haven't been able to sit still without feeling jittery, too curious about who he was and where he disappeared to.

"Carter."

The whole room twists in their seat, and I take this as an opportunity to do the same. My eyes wander to where he sat: the back corner of the room. His eyes find mine in a single glance and I feel my stomach twist. Why does he make me feel so strange? I don't even know the guy.

"I'm sorry?" Pastor Cole questions.

"It's Carter, Pastor Cole. You know how I feel about my first name." The mellow tone of his voice warms up the room. His eyes were still glued to mine.

"Oh yes, of course. Carter, welcome back. I would like to introduce you to Naomi Taylor. Naomi, this is Zachary Carter, but he prefers to be addressed as just Carter." The pastor makes the air tense as we're supposed to greet one another.

It comes off as a shock to me when he stands from his seat, his tall build towering over me as I crane my neck. I stand to my feet and notice that in height, I'm significantly shorter than he is. My head lined up with his broad shoulders.

I watch his hand as it moves from his pockets and stretches toward me, slender fingers waiting to hold mine in a meeting, and I don't hesitate to give it to him. All the while, my interest seemed fixed on his leather boots, matching mine in color.

"Hello." He says and I look up into those honey eyes and melt. What in the world was happening?

This is bad. I snatch my hand away from him and shove it into my pocket. "Hi."

His face shows nothing, but I shouldn't have expected it to. He's a stranger, and that's how he should remain. "Welcome to Foundation of New Faith." He sits back down, his piercing gaze leaving mine a moment after.

I take a seat and face the front, feeling better compared to when he first walked in.

"No 'thank you'?"

I twist around and face him again, his tone carrying the slightest disturbance. His gaze finds mine momentarily and his eyes are testing. I narrow mine. "Thank you."

The smirk on his face was modest, slightly there, but I hardly missed it. "You're welcome."

I turn back around, feeling the confusion sink back into the pit of my stomach.

"Alright, the last time we were here, we left off on John chapter three—" the pastor mumbles to himself, glancing at me before getting himself together and sitting up straight. "Please, can someone get Naomi a bible?"

"Sure." Carter answers, eyeing me before he walks down the hall and returns with two.

"Thank you."

"Much better." He mumbles before taking his seat in the back.

Henry shifts over a bit and helps me locate... Job? Is that what he said?

"John." Henry whispers to me and I flip towards John.

"No, that's First John, we're in John." Henry corrects me and I groan, rapidly flipping all over the book and deadpanning.

"This is stupid. How many Johns are there is this damn book—" I growl lowly before I am hushed and silently scolded by Henry. "This is stupid." I repeat.

"Okay, chapter three, Carter, can you please read verses one through ten?"   

I settled on John again, but it turned out it was Second John, the next one, Third John. Frustrated, I began to close the book, but Henry stopped me, taking the book in his hands and flipping towards the Table of Contents. He gently placed it on my lap and went back to reading. I expected him to find it for me, I thought while huffing.

Carter continued to peruse each verse while I still hadn't managed to find the book itself. My eyes scanned down the list of books in alphabetical order and, finding John, I realized I was way off.

Flipping there, I scanned chapter three until I found the place Carter was reading from.

"...Jesus answered and said to him, 'Are you the teacher of Israel and do not understand these things?'"

My eyes widened after I realized that I just missed the entire reading.

"Good, good Carter." The pastor complimented as his focus remained on the text. "Now, what exactly is going on in these verses?"

"Jesus is teaching Nicodemus." One of the married woman answer with no hesitation.

The pastor nods his head and finally looks up from the verses he was so engrossed in. "That's exactly it, Jesus is teaching Nicodemus. Teaching him what, exactly? Teaching him that man cannot be saved unless he is born again."

I scoffed, and this time, everyone could hear it. They all turned to look at me and I began shaking my head lightly. I used to hear this story plenty in my home. It made little sense then, and it made little sense now. It's dumb.

"Naomi, is there a problem?" The pastor questions and I nod, finally letting it loose.

"This is fiction." I spit. The women flinch back, but the pastor remains unmoved, almost like he was expecting this. "It's fiction, made up, unreal."

"Naomi." Henry hissed to stop me, but I was like a dog who escaped from its leash.

"Born again? Are you all dreaming? Wake up! Nicodemus was right! There's no way you can be born again! We're all already here, we were born! Now, we're going to die! It's as simple as that." My face was furious and my hands were shaking.

We're all going to die...

I pushed the memory back and shook my head, eyes wrathful and staring down the pastor. "Jesus fed his disciples and all the people who followed him a bunch of crap and they ate it."

"Naomi!"

"He didn't know what he was talking about because fictional characters in a story never do. They say the lines their authors give them because it's their job to. They don't exist. He never existed. You all should realize that sooner than later, instead of wasting your time here, it's screwing with your minds."

A pin could have dropped from the top floor and we would all hear it.

"Then why don't you just leave."

The bitter words plummeted against my chest as quickly as they came. That was the pin drop, the end to all the excitement. My heart hammered against my rib cage as the voice echoed through my ears, playing over and over. His words, they were insulting, they hurt, but I didn't show it. I turned and faced him and his cold, indifferent eyes. I froze in my seat. They were once this bright hazel, but they seemed darker now, furious.

"If you feel that way, then leave." He spat. His jaw clicked. "Take your opinions, take your anger, take your indignant heart, and leave this church."

And that's exactly what I did.

~*~

Thanks for reading! God bless!