take me to church.

ii.

by now, most of the people had cleared out of the cemetery, leaving the boy alone with the young girl who had laughed during the funeral. he approached her cautiously, not wanting to be intimidating.

"can i help you?" asked the girl. the boy froze in his spot, and suddenly he was the one who was intimidated.

"what was so funny?" the boy asked boldly.

"how serious we all take ourselves." she replied unenthused.

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"everybody lives their whole life just to die. look at father benedict, he dedicated his whole life to god, and now he's buried beneath our feet, and for all we know his devotion was for nothing- for all we know each and every one of us is damned to hell, just wasting our lives trying to repent."

"saying things like that is why your family is ostracized from this town, i agree with you, but i keep my mouth shut." says the boy in a hushed tone.

"i know everybody's disapproval."

-

later that evening the boy sat around the table with his family. he sat across from his uncle, who was in town following the murder. his uncle was a pastor, and an old friend of the deceased priest, he had come along with a detective. he was to lead the church temporarily, while the detective investigated further.

his young sister was on his left, aimlessly poking at her food. she was five years younger than him. as the youngest, she was the favorite of the two, however the boy didn't mind.

"son, are you listening to your uncle?" a loud voice interrupted the boy from his train of thought. he was staring blankly at his food, lost in his head.

"pardon? can you repeat what you said?" asked the boy shaking his head to clear his mind. his father sighed as his uncle cleared his throat.

"you spent a lot of time with father benedict. we're going to need your help. the officials and i want to ask you a few questions, if you're up for it."

"sure." the boy nods. "why do you want to ask me questions?"

"for investigation. you aren't a suspect, but you could provide us with crucial information."

"they haven't figured out who the murderer is yet?"

"no." replies the uncle.

"this town is isolated, it had to have been someone here." the boy points out.

"sister margaret said it was the devil who did it. she says father used to perform exorcisms-" begins the younger girl, his sister.

"that's enough bethany." the boy's father snaps, a vein in his head rising to the surface of his skin as he clenches his teeth.

"have you got a real detective? the kind that looks for fingerprints, and such?" asks the boy.

"that's the thing, luke-" the uncle began but was cut off.

"jonathon, not in front of bethany." his father asserts. bethany scowls at her food as she stabs her fork through her chicken.

"luke, would you like to come with me? the uncle, jonathon asks. luke nods. they stand up and venture out of the room, and out of the door into the brisk cold winter air.

"tomorrow you'll meet detective sullivan. he'll explain things further. but luke this is something you should know."

"what is it?"

"listen careful luke, this isn't for you to tell to anyone, especially not bethany. your father doesn't even know. i'm only telling you, because i think you can really help us here." jonathon explained.

"you can trust me uncle john." luke assured. the icy wind stung his exposed skin, and he wanted to get back inside as soon as possible.

"we looked for fingerprints. but there were none. not one in the whole church. not even the priest's fingerprints." jonathon said in a breathy whisper.

"what does that mean?" luke asked, leaning in to hear the words he would reply.

"it means the devil is here, luke."