Chapter#2.2: Father and the Devil

Sam always referred to any vice as the devil. As in “he caught someone snorting the devil off the bathroom counter or he saw some kid rolling dice for the devil in the ally way. And one of Amanda’s all-time favorites: he woke up to someone outside the church nailing the devil. Which for all he knew could have been a lovely married couple. But the point is it woke him with a sound unholy. In any case, where he could have used the term “personal demons” he used “the devil” instead. Amanda remembered once, as a teenager, that she caught Sam with his pants off playing with the devil in the laundry room.

In their father’s case, the devil was the bottle. It didn’t matter what it was as long as it got the job done “he hasn't been coming to the church meetings lately. I know you don’t talk to him much, but I was wondering if you've seen him around.”

            She hadn’t talked to him in months, nor had she wanted to “last time I saw him was here for Easter.”

 “You haven’t seen him out and about? You know, like in any bars or whatever?” This upset Amanda. What an assuming question. She despised how he compared her to their father. He assumed that since he went out looking for trouble night after night that she would randomly run into him. When the truth was she hadn’t been out in a while, especially since her ex. “A church member said they saw him place called the Holy Saints.”

 “That sounds promising.” Amanda chimed.

 “It’s not a church. The place is spelled H-O-L-E space ‘E’ and Saints ends with a bra shaped ‘Z,’” Portland was reported to have the most strip clubs per capita than any other city. Sam joked in the past that if AA meetings were held at these location, that more men would probably go. But that would be like sending a kid into a candy store and saying he wasn’t allowed to sample.

 “Whoa, what church member saw him at a titty bar?” She asked.

 “Lord’s business, not yours. Anyways, he’s a sick man Amanda and I want to continue to encourage him to keep coming.”

“To what end Sam? You can’t leave it up to him to decide when he’s going to change his life. He’s in his late fifties, lives off disability, has no motivation and doesn’t contribute anything to anyone. He needs to be put in a center for assholes that can’t help themselves. And if not for his sake, then for all the people who have to deal with him,” she exclaimed.

“He will commit to getting better when he’s ready, until then, all we can do is leave that door open and pray.”

“You pray, I’ve got better things to do with my time than worry about him,” she turned her head to the side and briefly stared at the mahogany paneled wall while betting her lower lip. She turned back to Sam and said in a raised voice “he’s never going to choose to stop. He’s like a dog with tunnel vision. Like Nick Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. Even if he didn’t have an addiction, he would still need a way to drown out all the shit he didn’t want to deal with whether it’s his unemployment, his kids or…” she trailed off and started shaking her head in frustration. She had no empathy for someone who not only was just waiting for a sweet release but treated her like crap in the interim. She closed her eyes rubbed her temples.

*****

Sam couldn’t hold back anymore. Heaven willing, he had to say what was boiling to the surface in both their minds. The topic that tore the only family she ever knew apart. The fulcrum that started it all “…or mom, ‘Manda…?” And there it was, he took a long pause and lowered his voice “it wasn’t your fault.” She had been told that so many times through her life that he wondered if it no longer had any meaning for her.

Their dear mother, God rest her soul, had passed during childbirth. Unavoidable and tragic, Mary Callahan’s life ended where Amanda’s began. It was at that point that Sam and their father started attending church weekly with little Manda, which seemed to help ease the pain of their loss and allowed his sister to understand that her mother was in a better place, that she was the miracle that sprung for the tragedy.

This continued up till Amanda’s teenage years when the stress of being a single parent of  two kids came to a breaking point and their father stopped hiding a deep secret he wasn’t sure he could forever hide: that he directly blamed  his daughter for the death of her mother and that given the chance, he would have them trade places. Upon sharing this secret, which Sam came to realize was eating him from the inside out, he became reclusive and spiteful, changing from a weekend drinker to a full-blown alcoholic.

No child should ever be told that their responsible for their own mother’s death and she may have grown up to be a very different person if it wasn’t for her supportive and reassuring older brother.

After that, their father stopped going to church with them. Sam still brought his sister but from them on, she despised going There were some good memories from when she and Sam would go together when Sam thought it important that he bring her along for her own salvation. In time, she stopped going altogether and Sam started studying to join the clergy. He had thought if the church couldn't save his little sister, perhaps he could. He ended up replacing Pastor Virgil Matthews after he passed a few years back and now stayed in close contact with her since he was no longer seeing her on a weekly basis.

Mary was a wonderful woman and a terrific mother, but God had a plan that involved taking her away and leaving Amanda to struggle a little harder so she could learn to be a little stronger. It was a test that Sam wasn’t sure she could overcome; no matter how many times she said it didn’t bother her.

After a moment of indiscernible thought, Amanda quickly stood up, walked out the door and started down the hall to the exit. As she did so, Sam opened a desk drawer, grabbed a set of keys and tossed them on the desktop and put his hands in his pocket as he stood up himself.

Amanda heard this and stopped. She walked back into the office to the desk and put her fingers on the key and quietly said “I know,”

He lowered  his face pursed his lips and nodded as if to say ‘glad to hear it, but I don’t believe you.’ The truth was, he knew she was on fire inside, but that she wouldn’t lash out at him for trying to help. He knew she was more frustrated than angry and that this was a conversation for another time, though it seemed like there was never time, a right time, to bring up the subject.

She grabbed the keys and walked out, back to the dark real world.
Sam put his fingers on the desk and said a silent prayer for her. Their father may have been beyond help, but Amanda still had a chance. He turned off the desk lamp and retired for the evening with more stress on his mind than one parishioner should have.

Suggested listening: Angel of Small Death by Hozier

Chapter #2.1: Pastor Sam

            Amanda started laughing out loud to in the car. What a fucking idiot! She couldn't believe he fell for all the crap she was feeding him. All of Amanda’s grandparents were deceased, the tampons were her’s and there was no medical condition called a misanthropic rhizome. These two words had nothing to do with each other. Together, they would describe a human-hating plant root system. It didn't even make sense. They were just two big words that happened to sound good together.

The dinner was so boring, she had to find an entertaining way to end it. It worked as a great excuse to blow Don off too. At another point in her life, she might have given him more than the time of day, but not that day and probably not anytime soon after. She may have felt bad about her rouse, but she knew he'd never know the truth.

Amanda had one more chore to finish anyway before making her way home. The keys to her aunt’s home in Seattle were with her brother Sam. Known to most as Pastor Sam, he was the head of congregation at the First United Methodist Church of Portland. 

He and Amanda had always been close, but in the past few years, they had slowly been separated by their division of faith. Sam was trying to save a soul that refused to let him do so.

It was her opinion that if they hadn't known each other their whole lives, she never would have. But he was family, and while a sense of family had always been broken, he was the closest thing she had. The truth of the matter was that he raised her; and without him, she didn't know where she would be.

After arriving and parking her car, she headed up the stairs and through the front doors. She felt, as usual, like she didn’t belong; like she should burst into flames at any minute. There were a few evening worshipers around but the place, for her, was empty;  hollow instead of hallowed dismissed instead of divine.

She walked down the aisle between pews up to the alter. Behind it, a larger than life stained wooden Jesus was mounted on the back wall looking sad yet forgiving at the same time. She used to think he was actually looking down at her categorically when she was younger as if to say “you’re worried about going back to school on Monday? That’s cute. I have to worry about nails in my arms and feet. This hurts you know, it’s cool though, because it’s all for you,” and now the voice in her head just asked “are you lost? Seriously, did you think this was an O.R.? You save your way and I’ll save mine, ok?” the last part may have actually been a quote from her brother.

Past the crucifix and to the right was a doorway that led down a hall where she could see a light coming from Sam's office. As she walked, she could see through the window of the office door that he was talking to a younger man inside.

Usually, at this time of night, he would not be seeing anyone. She honestly didn’t know much about what he did in his free time. He never needed to leave the building to go home since the basement floor was his two bedroom living space. Sam mostly came to see her and would have dropped off the keys at her place but she decided this time to save him the trip. She did, however, know that he didn’t take meetings past 8 pm and it was half past so whoever he was talking too must have had a lot to say.

It wasn’t long before the young man stood up, shook Sam’s hand and exited through the office door “excuse me,” he said to Amanda in the 10 feet between her and the door as he passed her and made his way down the hall with a reassuring look about him. She watched him walk down the hall and could tell that whatever happened in that conversation left the man filled with hope and confidence about whatever step his life was about to take.

When Amanda turned back around, she saw Sam standing in the doorway with a closed smile and raised eyebrows. He was wearing his usual clerical collar black button up shirt with matching pants and shoes with a v-neck grey hooded sweatshirt and fleece hap with a golden cross-stitched into the front.

He ordered the caps for himself and the choir so they could stay warm last year during Christmas caroling. Sam thought they were something hip that the kids could wear and promote the church. Amanda gave him points for trying but thought they looked a little cultish.

He had similar features to hers; blue eyes and dark hair, just like their mother’s. He was a little taller and his 35 years looked more like 40, where Amanda was 25 and still got carded. Sam’s smile finally bared teeth and he called to her “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show this evening.”

“You seemed to be keeping yourself busy in the meat time,” she said nodding down the hall where his visitor just walked away.

“Responsibility is a messy business when it comes to teenage pregnancy. That member is understandably nervous about becoming a young father and needed to be aware that with great challenge comes great reward. A new revelation I shined a light on for him.”

“Should you be telling me this? Thought office visits were confidential?” She replied.

“His situation is no big secret; many know, yet few offer kind words or assistance when they judge the choices he’s made and the situation he is in. He’ll be fine as long as he stays on the right path and is a supportive partner. That and he stays clear of his girlfriend’s father,” they both took a deep chuckle.

“Sorry I’m late; I got caught up doing my good deed for the day.”

“I hope it was the lord's work.”

She hated when he said stuff like that “just helping someone get from point A to point B,” she took a seat in the comfy chair in front of his desk “then they bought me dinner and I couldn't refuse.”

“Do unto others,” he replied. Amanda rolled her eyes.

“I call it karma,” eastern philosophy was her weapon of choice when he talked scripture. She decided long ago that most religions had many common goals and ideas that followed a lot of the same thread. She, therefore, didn’t have to disagree with Sam about his believes, she could just look at things from her own point of view.

He ceded the point grabbed both her shoulders and said “to karma then,” and gave her a warm hug. She hugged back then came into his office. For all of the views she differed with her brother, he was the only strong male figure she had ever felt comfortable with and a little affection made all the difference. “Take a seat, I have something to speak with you about,” he said circling his desk.

“Actually I was hoping to grab the keys and split. I still have a lot of packing to do,” she replied.

          “Oh, it won’t take up too much of your evening. I’ll have you on your way in no time,” Amanda knew that wouldn't be the case and she started to tense up a little “it’s about dad. Well, more specifically, you and dad and the devil.”

Suggested listening:   Drop the Game by Flume ft. Chet Faker
                                            The Weight by The Band ft. The Staple Singers
                                            Church by Macklemore