by Terence A. Anthony
“We don’t have to this today, considering the past few we--” “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned” Calan interjected before I could finish my sentence. I may be "Father" Larson but for the next few minutes, this man is in charge.
It wasn’t just Calan’s mental health I was worried about. I wasn’t sure if wanted to hear anything dark from Calan’s mind. It was taking a toll on me. I was still mourning for Lewis, Calan’s father. Both of us saw him as a father figure.
“--Larson?” Calan continued while sobbing, dropping all forms of formalities.
“Yes, Calan?” I had to become more of a counselling brother for that moment; a sibling that Calan never had.
“Before Dad left the house, on the day he died in that car crash. I told him I hated him. I didn’t want to go to Catholic school, I didn’t believe in God and I never wanted to speak to him ever again.” I pinched his fingers wondering if I was sure of what he was listening.
“I think Dad was speeding because he was angry. I think I killed Dad.” Calan’s voice was muffled from all the crying. Had to force myself hold back. This was no longer an issue of church and congregation. This was more of a family-friend dilemma.
“Do you believe in God, Larson?”
I could just repeat lines I learned as a priest. God works in mysterious ways. God has a plan for all of us. God wanted to teach us a lesson. But I knew if God existed, he’d rather have me tell the truth.
“No” I replied, in an attempt to gamble with the truth.
“Well, he wanted me to be like you.”
Flash Fiction February is a daily short story challenge (within the 150-200 word range) for the month of February.
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