The warm summer light iridescently streamed through a stained glass window, covering the dark wood pews with splotches of colour. Even with his eyes closed, he knew exactly where the blue from Mary's shawl covered a cigarette burn at Mrs. Wisham's regular seat. He leaned back, basking in the quiet serenity of this familiar place, limbs relaxed and mind blissfully empty. In this emptiness, he suddenly felt the presence of another: a familiar form, steady, measured breath, the smell of incense and candlewax. Without opening his eyes, he leaned towards this form sitting beside him and placed his head on a sturdy shoulder. He heard a warm chuckle, vibrating through them both as his father exhaled.
"What are you doing here this early?"
Adam finally let his eyes flutter open, expecting to be blinded momentarily, but instead his view was shaded by a large male hand protecting him from danger. Just as Adam believed his father always would.
"Mom had some things to do in the office before service and I called dibs on the best spot!" Adam said out loud, his childish voice resonating through the walls of the church. He raised his head and looked up into the smiling face of his father, the pastor of St Mary's Church in their small town of Burkittsville, Maryland.
Pastor George was a bright and confident man, handsome enough to be a scintillating cause of local gossip when he took over the parish. Adam was always told that he looked like a miniature version of his father, with his piercing blue eyes and golden hair. But he always thought that similarity was surface-level. His eyes didn't sparkle with mirth, compassion and wisdom. His hair never had the ethereal halo when the sunlight hit it at just the right angle. His father radiated some sort of energy that made everyone around him want to fall to their knees and believe in the existence of a merciful God.
It was silent in the church, with the exception of a few muttered expletives from the adjacent room, where his mother was rummaging through the papers. Adam couldn't suppress his giggles and his father shook his head in exasperation.
"Old habits die hard." Pastor George whispered conspiratorily into Adam's ear. "Let's keep this between us, dear. Your mom… is still adjusting to the small town life. We wouldn't want Mrs. Wisham or the other church ladies gossiping, would we?"
"Mrs. Wisham calls mom a …" Adam scrunched his nose in contemplation "Uptown trumpet." His father made a choking sound and began to cough "Though I don't know why. Mom doesn't play the trumpet…"
"I don't think that's what she meant, love." Pastor George got his breathing under control and huddled Adam closer. "Let's keep this one to ourselves also. I will have a word with her later."
They sat there quietly for a few minutes that felt like an eternity, enjoying the moment of peace. Pastor George shifted and began to stand up, gently pushing Adam's head away.
"Where are you going!" Adam did not know the reason for his panic, but his deepest desire at that moment was to keep his father with him at all cost for as long as possible.
"I have to prepare for the sermon, darling. I will be back soon…"
"NO!"
His father froze as Adam screamed and clung onto him for dear life. The warmth of the church now felt scorching, sweat beading on his forehead and top lip, as he gripped his father's arm, probably leaving bruises. His hands were so small… too small.
"I'm sorry, Adam. But I have to go…"
Adam lifted his head, trying to see his father's face one more time. It was blurry from either the effect of this unbearable heat or his own tears. His father slipped out of his grasp and was gone. Gone forever.
***
Adam startled awake with a violent shudder, his hands gripping his duvet, as the unusually hot September morning rays of sunlight were hitting him just at the right angle to give him a light sear. He pushed the covers away to find himself breathing heavily and sweating, still shellshocked from his recurrent dream. He hadn't visited that memory in years. Perhaps it was first-day-of-school nerves… or the heat.
He gathered his sheets and climbed down the stairs towards the laundry room. He heard clanking noises from the kitchen, his mother probably making breakfast. He heard a cursory "Morning, dear" and a soft snort, probably due to his outward appearance. Hair disheveled and barefoot, he stumbled downstairs while yawning, clutching the tangled sheets. As he shoved them into the washer and set the quick cycle going, his mom appeared in the doorway to the laundry room with a mug of coffee for him.
"Ah, to be young again. Excited for your first day of school?"
Adam sighed at the innuendo and reached for the proffered brew. He stopped for a moment, realising he now towered over his mother. His recent growth spurt had robbed him of his favourite jeans and given him joint pain akin to an aging cyclist. But only now it hit home that he was almost a head taller than her. His mother's face changed immediately upon seeing his own, and the frown of concern clued him into the fact that he probably had tear streaks down his face.
"I'm sorry, dear, I didn't mean to tease you. Is everything alright?" his mother reached towards his face with a soft hand and wiped at his cheek gently.
"I'm fine, just… Had a dream about dad again" Adam saw recognition flicker in his mother's eyes and a veil of profound sadness and grief, that he was so accustomed to seeing for the last 5 years, descended upon her face. He always thought his mother was the strongest woman he knew. When his father first received his diagnosis, she did not shed a single tear. She picked him up from the floor of the church where he was praying to God for salvation and a miracle, and tried everything humanly possible to make one happen using modern medicine. Neither worked in the end. Adam hadn't understood it at eight. Over the next three years, as his father slowly wasted away, he'd been forced to grow up and make peace with death. Sometimes, remembering seeing this once vibrant man lying in bed as a shell of his former self, Adam wished he had lost his father suddenly if he had to lose him at all. The shock and grief would have been sharp and quick, unlike the slow all encompassing wait for the inevitable.
They stood there in silence, looking into each other's eyes with understanding, until the toaster dinged and pulled them out of their spell. His mother startled lightly and the moment was gone. The rest of the morning was a blur of breakfast and getting ready for school. Just as Adam was about to head to the bus stop, he heard a loud honk in the driveway. A dark navy blue Honda Civic with a few discoloured spots had flashed its lights at him to get his attention. As he was descending from his porch, he saw a young man emerge from the driver's seat and smile at him brilliantly. His best friend, Dylan Ward, immaculately dressed yet seeming artistically disheveled, beamed at him while gesturing to the car.
"Your carriage awaits, my lord!" he bowed like a true Edwardian valet and hurried to open the front passenger door. Adam laughed at the theatrics, the young man before him dispelling any last dregs of depression and grief from his mind with his radiant disposition. And just like that he was transported to the first time they met, Adam crying by the back entrance of the hospital and Dylan hobbling towards him on sticker-covered crutches. Five minutes later, Adam was holding his stomach from laughter, while Dylan was animatedly telling him how he sleepwalked right out of his bedroom window into his mother's rose bushes. They have been inseparable ever since.
"'Tis not a Bentley, my lord, but at least it is better than the peasant's bus." As usual, Dylan knew exactly what to say to get Adam out of his ennui and looking forward to the day. Just as Adam was about to act along and board the seat with all the pomp of a snobby royal, he spotted another familiar figure hurrying into a car on the other side of the road. He turned and yelled a greeting.
"Morning, Jesse!"
The figure didn't stop or respond, and he could swear that she sped up a little. By the time he was about to yell louder or even head over there, she was long gone. He looked at Dylan.
"What's up with her?"
"She is probably late… Just like we will be if you don't get your ass in the car. Sorry, ma'am." The last part was directed at Adam's mother, who was watching the entire scene unfold with a curiously raised brow.
"Bye, mom!" Adam waved quickly and closed the door behind him. As Dylan pulled the car out onto the main road, Adam tried to find Jesse's car ahead of them, but to no avail. Jesse Ashford, being his oldest childhood friend and neighbour, wasn't one for pleasantries but neither would she ignore him for no reason.
He hadn't seen her since the beginning of summer, their last meeting being the day before he left on a road trip with his mother. While she was visiting new churches to write about in her book, he was wallowing in youth camp for a month. They got delayed on the road and returned only yesterday, right before he was to start his sophomore year at Brunswick High.
With Dylan's chatter in the background, he zoned out looking out at the Black Hills Forest speeding by his window. He had spent many summers with Jesse, and later with Dylan too, imagining themselves knights and hunters, while roaming through this dense thicket of ancient trees. Those were some of the happiest months of his life. He didn't know when it started. When Jesse started pulling away and three became two once again. But even with them drifting slowly away, he could always rely on a curt nod or a wave of a hand in the morning at least.
But he had time. He would find Jesse and talk to her properly. Getting the truth from her would be akin to pulling teeth, but Adam was well versed in inducing confessions when it came to his friends. Maybe he was more similar to his father than he was ready to admit.
***
Brunswick High was home to a multitude of unfortunate youth from around Potomac River valley, who languidly wandered the quad while dreading the beginning of the school day. Dylan pulled the car into a parking lot with rapidly dwindling spaces and hustled Adam out into the warm autumn air.
"Yeesh, barely managed to grab the last spot. I'll pick you up earlier tomorrow, so be ready, your highness." Dylan chatted as he was checking his parking position and waving to other students rushing by.
"Yeah, yeah. Woe to your theatre dregs, if you are this bossy with them too." Adam snickered as they headed to the school entrance.
"Hey! They signed up for it voluntarily, so they don't get to complain!" Dylan, outraged, exclaimed and smacked Adam's arm.
"Damn. Did you bulk up again? Do they distribute some sort of holy growth serum in your bible camp? Can you sneak me some?"
"You are not that short." Adam smiled as his best friend made a face of utter annoyance
"Easy for you to say, sasquatch"
"So first I am your lord, then your highness and now sasquatch? Thou art truly fickle."
Before Dylan could continue their verbal fencing, they finally reached the main doors. Jostled about by the heaving student body, they squeezed their way inside with difficulty. Once they were free, Dylan took a big breath to deliver another sniping comment when a voice reached them from the crowd.
"Adam, wait up!"
A very pretty blonde slip of a girl approached them, hair the colour of sunshine neatly arranged in a high pony tail and a brilliant smile finishing what was undeniably a very attractive visage. Dylan glanced with confusion at Adam, who while startled, hurried to introduce her.
"Hey, Monica. This is my best friend Dylan Ward. Dylan, this is Monica Warren, my…"
"Girlfriend. Nice to meet you, Dylan." Monica interrupted, after utilizing Adam's hesitation to jump into the conversation. She extended her perfectly manicured hand towards dumbfounded Dylan, who shook it in a daze.
"Morning, handsome." She tiptoed to peck Adam's cheek, her floral perfume briefly overwhelming his senses.
"I haven't seen you in a week and already missed you so much! Unfortunately I only stopped you to say hello. I want to make sure I sign up for the orientation during lunch. See you later, hon!" she squeezed his shoulder with a dismayed expression on her face and disappeared into the crowd in a whirlwind of skirts before Adam could manage a low, distracted "Ok, babe"
They stood there for a few seconds until Dylan snapped out of his stupor and grinned up at Adam.
"Dude… you go away for the summer to Jesus camp and come back with a girlfriend?! I ain't a believer, but maybe those camps truly do have some sort of magic juju… OUCH!" Adam turned and began walking away after slapping Dylan hard on the shoulder.
"I'll report you for assault, jerk!" Dylan's laughter followed him up the stairs.
He didn't expect Monica to just out and say it with no preparation or preamble. They haven't discussed how they are going to handle breaking the news to the rest of the school body and if he was completely honest with himself, he kind of forgot about her in the morning rush. But leave it to Monica to take the reins as per usual. As Adam was absentmindedly heading to his homeroom he suddenly realised that he couldn't remember the exact moment he and Monica started dating. He definitely did not ask her out and there never were any long and pining moments you see on TV. It appears that he just went with the flow, as usual, and ended up with a girlfriend. Just as he ended up being the football team captain, the unofficial school role model and in the running for student body president. Adam thought back on his behaviour to see if there ever was some sort of effort or initiative on his part, but came up with nothing. Life had simply carried him along, like a canoe on the rapids. Everyone else called it luck.