Lawrence Looks for Treasure

Part 2 - Chapter 13

13

Mass had ended before I arrived. The congregation ate lunch outside on picnic tables. In shorts and a tank top, I looked for Chris and Matty. My dress was unfit for the Lord's house, but our family had been such frequent visitors that I doubt He quite minded.

I couldn't find Chris or Matty anywhere. In vain, I weaved through tables, and bobbed in and out of huddled conversations. No one had seen Chris or Matty since service ended, though all agreed that they were not the type to miss lunch.

Scratching my nose, I wondered whether they wussed out. For another twenty minutes, I weaved and bobbed. I couldn't find them anywhere. Reality soon set in. They weren't coming. The trip was stupid anyway, almost as stupid as not going to university. Boy did I feel dumb. As I started home, excitement turned to disappointment. The passion of adventure drained from the top of my head, from the peaks of my tallest cowlicks, through my knees, out my toes and into the earth below. For me it was devastating, but for the earth it was trifling. That earth had absorbed, across space and time, tragedies far worse than mine.

I had already mounted my bike when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

'Lawrence, I didn't spot you at mass.'

I turned around. A tall man with a with a short, black beard stood behind me, smiling.

'Pastor Simes!' I hoped not to see him, but once I had, I was glad I did.

'Leaving so early? Stay, eat.' He said.

'Actually, I'm looking for Chris and Matty, sir. Have you seen them?'

'Yes, somewhere.' He said. 'We miss you at church, you know.'

Because of Pastor Simes, I used to go to Church quite a bit. The more time I spent with him, the more I embraced his lifestyle. I sang in the choir. I helped the nuns. I even fasted all of Lent. What can I say? I've always wondered how to live, and the guy had answers. Pastor Simes, quite literally, practiced what he preached.

'I know, I'm sorry.' I said. 'I've been busy with school.' Of course, that wasn't true. I couldn't give two turds about school, as you may have guessed.

It was just, the more I learned about doctrine, the more skeptical I grew. Sure, Pastor Simes was a good man. Whether or not you believed in heaven. But the doctrine itself didn't add up. Was God really three dudes in one—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost? What about women? And if God truly was all powerful, could he create a rock too heavy for him to lift? Pastor Simes's answers were unsatisfying. I wanted to believe. I couldn't.

Then one day I asked Pastor Simes a question that set my mind against it entirely. I remember clear as water.

'Do you think it's wrong to be gay?' I asked.

He looked at me with this pained understanding.

'Yes, I do,' he said, nodding. It was hard to hear the words out his mouth.

'But it's not their fault,' I said. 'Besides, they don't hurt anyone.'

'I know. God tests us all differently.'

'Being gay is a test?' I asked.

'Yes,' he said, again with this difficult look. 'I feel badly for them.'

That's when I knew, religion just wasn't my bag. Pastor Simes stayed important to me, a model, of sorts, but it was no longer personal. I kept away. Still, our bond from those days remained. We were probably closer than half the people at that church.

'Maybe I'll come to mass next weekend.' I lied.

'Please do,' he said. 'However, I'll be in Toronto.'

'The big city,' I said. 'What for?'

'I'm applying for a new position in the Church.'

'I'm sure you'll get it,' I said. 'God's on your side.'

He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a voice behind him.

'Lawrence . . . where the helluvya been?'

It was, unmistakably, Chris.

'Alright, I'll let you boys catch up,' Pastor Simes said, and he walked away.

'Jesus!' I replied, once Pastor Simes had disappeared. 'Where the helluvyou been?'

'We've been here, waiting. We thought you bailed. Or maybe left without us. God knows you're crazy enough.'

Laughing, I said. 'No, we're a team. I'll only skip out once we already have the treasure.'

'Not if I do first,' Chris returned, laughing.

'So where's Matty?' I asked.

'Follow me,' Chris said.

He led me to the church basement. Vast and poorly kept, the basement was comprised of a winding, dimly-lit hall, with rooms breaking off along the way. It was used mostly by kids, who ran around looking for ghosts, while their parents sat and stood and sat and stood at mass upstairs.

I felt nostalgic passing through. As kids, we also looked for ghosts there. Eventually, I came to know the space so well that the adventure went right out of it. Now, the adventure had gone right out of Kinnard too. It was time to find one elsewhere, and never look back.

Chris led me to a musty, windowless room. Matty sat on the ground, his pack and bike in a corner next to Chris's.

'Gentlemen,' Chris said. 'We have a big week ahead. Treasure has been lost. History, forgotten. Millions of dollars, disappeared. Only we can save the day. Are we ready?'

'Yup.'

'Uh-huh.'

'Good,' Chris continued. 'But before we leave, we need to know we can count on each other, right?'

'Right.'

'Right.'

'So Matty, please tell us: Where have you been all summer?'

'What?' Matty said.

'You heard me,' Chris said. 'Spill it.'

'I can't believe this guy,' Matty said.

'And don't blame it on work either.' Chris continued. 'I stopped by your office. You've had the whole month off.'

Matty paused, looking guilty as ever.

'I'll tell you on the way,' he sighed. 'Let's just get going.'