The Savior of the Font

Chapter 6

 That rain I smelled earlier is here. The roar of the droplets against Sam's roof fills the house. Glancing out the window, I can see only a gray sheet of water obscuring most of the fields beyond. My eyes are drawn to the storm as Sam sits in the recliner opposite his couch. He's leaned back, legs spread with his fingers pressed to his forehead. It seems we weren't the only ones Faith kept her secrets from. Sam knew even less than I did.

"Holy shit, girl," he says in disbelief. Faith and I are sitting together on the couch. She has a blanket over her shoulders and a mug of tea in her hands. My hand rests on her knee. Sam leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees. "So, you like, actually died?"

Faith nods before taking another sip of tea. Even back in Charlotte, most people didn't know about her resurrection. Those who did hear of it dismissed it as an embellished rumor. Faith didn't venture out much before she disappeared, so not many got to see the scars on her wrists. "For three days," she says quietly.

"That's hard enough to grasp without all that mess 'bout being chained in a basement," Sam continues. His mention of it makes me squeeze her knee. I can't help it. The thought of her down there just destroys me. "More than a year you been working for me, and I had no idea."

"That was by design," Faith admits. "I came here so I could be in a place where nobody knew."

Sam pushes off his knees as he stands. "Well, sorry to be blunt about this, but that was dumb."

"Sam, come on," Faith complains.

"What if she hadn't a' been in the truck with ya?" he demands. I've only known Sam a couple of days, but I've never seen him this forceful. "What if she hadn't already known all a' this shit and could recognize the signs?"

She gives no reply.

"When you came to me, I thought you was just looking for a quieter life," he continues. "That I understood. City life ain't no place for me neither. That's why I gave you our old house and let you work the fields."

"Wait, her house is yours?" I ask.

He sits back down, and the leather seat groans. "It was my folks'. Well, mine and Danny's. Don't know if you've seen the pink nightmare behind the first door on the left, but that was mine."

"The girl's room?" I question.

"Yep," he says. "Mama and Daddy was super religious Didn't take too well to their little girl tellin'em she was really a boy."

"You're transgender," I say.

He nods. "Mama made me keep the room just like that. Said I wasn't allowed to grow up if I'd stop being her baby girl. When I turned 16 I ran away. I transitioned and started livin' as me. That was... gosh... 'bout twenty year ago."

"Why'd you come back?" I ask. His story is fascinating.

"The Rapture. When religious folk went floatin', I was sure Mama and Daddy would too. I rushed back to make sure my big brother was okay. It was nice to be with him again, but I told him I couldn't stay in that house no more. When we found out our neighbors in the farm house across the road floated too, we just sorta took it for ourselves."

"Where is Danny?" I ask.

"In his room," he replies, pointing towards the hall. "Danny don't like company much. He's a good man, just not great 'round people. I think if folks understood Autism when we was kids like they do now, he'd have grown up a little easier too."

"You're a good brother, Sam," Faith says warmly. Her right-hand rests on mine. It's warm from holding the mug.

"And you got a good friend in Ms. Molly here," he says, gesturing at me. "Speaking of which..." He stands again. "Molly, you and I need to have a word in private."