Title: Faith
Author: Ellie
Rating: PG
Notes: Written for the Housefic_pens drabble challenge, in a series of three,
100-word pieces. I’ve written neither Chase nor drabbles before, so comments
and concrit are appreciated.
****
He was a curious child, and no matter his question, his father always had answers for him.
The questions had never been encouraged, but they were thoughtfully answered.
He was told why the sky was blue (Elements in the atmosphere distort the
rays of light from the sun, making it appear blue.) and why sharks have
so many teeth (They’re not permanent. They lose them as they catch
prey, and new ones grow in to replace them.) and why the opera house looked
like sails (Acoustics. Just listen to this aria!).
But there was no answer for why he left.
***
He prayed until his knees were bruised and aching, and
his wooden rosary acquired a worn patina. He’d prayed for all three of
them, then just the two of them, and finally for her alone. Her consolation,
her health, her life.
Plans for entering seminary inspired hope that his piety
would be enough to convince God to listen, to intercede, if only he were good
enough, devoted enough.
He wasn’t, and his prayers fell on the deaf ears
of the universe.
The last time he spoke to God was after her funeral,
and it has been a furious, one-sided conversation.
***
No one used the hospital chapel in the dead of night, when the abstract stained glass looked demonic rather than divine. It seemed then the best place for him to contemplate his father’s passing.
Just last year, his father visited the hospital, and had never said a word to
him about the imminent.
He didn’t know what he felt. As a child, he’d idolized him. As a
teen, he’d blamed him. As a young man, he exorcised him from his life.
Was he now supposed to mourn him?
After several minutes, he knelt and whispered, “Requiem aeternam dona
eis Domine….”
****
End
****