Evermore Shall Live

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

            Have you ever been to Kansas? No? Well, lucky you. No one in their right mind would want to even drive through Kansas, let alone live there. It's flatter than a basketball court, hotter than a dessert, and has absolutely nothing interesting in it. It's probably one of the dullest places on earth.

          If there were a bright center to the universe, Kansas would be located about a hundred miles from it.

          It's not exactly a hot spot, if you catch my drift.

          And yet, here I sat, in the front seat of my Grandfather's old Chevy, cruising down the road at 30 mph, right in the middle of Kansas. In the little town of Seaview, which coincidentally has the most misleading name that ever existed.

          Why, you may ask, was I here? I'll tell you why. Because life hates me, that's why.

          "I don't want to go, Grandpa," I wined, my forehead pressed against the passenger-side window, watching the houses go by. I had been saying this ever since we left Grandpa's house ten minutes ago. I hadn't known we would be going out. It was a Wednesday night, dull and boring, just like Kansas. But then Grandpa had told me to get in the car. We were leaving. When he told me where we were going, my complaining started. I didn't want to go anywhere, let alone there. But we crawled down the road, none-the-less.

          "Please, Grandpa!"

          But Grandpa didn't say a word. He hadn't said a word the whole car ride. I hated how quiet he could be.

          The sun beat down on my head, causing me to get a headache, but I didn't move. I didn't want to look at grandpa.

          I felt the pavement beneath us change to stone. We had pulled into a parking lot. I looked at the sign by the entrance as we passed it. It read: Seaview Baptist Church. I sighed. We were here.

          Grandpa pulled into a parking space and stopped the engine. I heard the jingle of the keys as he slid them into his pocket. Then there was silence. It lasted a few minutes. Then Grandpa broke it.

          "I know you don't want to be here," he said, though my head was still facing the window, "but please try and have fun. Make some friends. It will get better."

          I didn't say a word.

          Grandpa opened the car door and got out. He shut it, rocking the car. I knew he wouldn't wait for me. I clicked the button on the seat belt and felt it slide across my shoulder. I removed my head from the window and, noticing that Grandpa was already going inside, I opened the door.

          Slowly, I got out and shut the door. I didn't want to go inside. But I went.

          I made my way across the parking lot extremely slowly. I glanced around, noticing the lack of a view. The view of the sea - something I wanted to look at again. The simple fact that the town was called Seaview made my heart ache. It reminded me of Miami, a place where you could see the ocean from anywhere. It was also the place I'd grown up.

          I looked down at the ground. A black stone sat atop the thousands of grey ones. I kicked it, a bad idea since I was wearing flip flops. But maybe I could pray and ask God to take away the pain in my toe. The thought of actually praying this brought a laugh to my lips. The mere thought was ludicrous, and here I was, going into a church that was filled with the sort of people who would bend a knee right now, asking God to take the pain away. I scowled at the thought of those people.