Idolatria Ch. 02

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Ash reaches out to pull the stranger into the light.
4.6k words
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Part 2 of the 20 part series

Updated 09/16/2023
Created 06/05/2019
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Asbel
Asbel
184 Followers

You could tell how well Pastor Len thought his sermon went that day by how high he bounced on his feet during the benediction. If he thought it didn't go over well, he would only sort of pop up a tiny bit or rock on his heels. If he thought it was enjoyable, then he would hop up on the balls of his feet, hands outstretched and smile unrestrained, as he spoke the usual words to mark the end of worship: "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen!"

With these words, the congregation began to disperse, most filing out of the pews and out into the lobby, some rejoining friends and neighbors to chat. Normally I would linger here with Marc until our families finally picked up and left. But when I turned around in the pew, I saw the strange man in the back doing something I hadn't seen him do yet.

He was standing up and walking out.

Heart in my mouth, I grabbed my bible, slipped into the aisle, and jogged after him, held back several times by little tangles of people. Pastor Len had taken his place by the sanctuary door and was shaking hands and greeting people on their way out, and I was stopped while trying to find a way around.

"Ash! Where are you going?" Marc was calling after me, but I only glanced back, gave him an apologetic look, and shouldered myself past the jam at the door, muttering more apologies. I was losing sight of the man. I had the strangest sensation of urgency - as if I was going to lose my only chance, the only moment possible...

But to do what? I dashed through the lobby, all manners be damned. He was outside, sunlight and wind in his hair... Moments from reaching him, I had no real idea of my intentions. To confront him? In anger, in retaliation of my embarrassment? To demand answers? To know, by any means, why he was here in the first place? I burst through the glass doors, still running, and shouted at him.

"HEY!"

He stopped and turned halfway back towards me. I had partly expected him to keep going, and found myself slowing to a jog. Panting slightly, I stopped a few paces from him on the walkway surrounded by dry mulch and curling hosta shrubs. The cold air bit my bare arms and the dry skin of my mouth. It was several deep breaths later that I was finally able to act, during which he only stood patiently, watching me, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and expression placid. I stuck out my hand awkwardly.

"We didn't... I didn't get to... I'm Ash."

Dammit! For all my bravado, I had come up short when my mouth opened. Now all I could do was stand there, lamely holding out my hand, uncomfortably aware of the man's eyes traveling from it to my face and back again. Blood was pulsing in my cheeks and ears.

Then he smiled, withdrew a hand from his pocket, and seized mine with a firm shake. "It's nice to meet you," he said, voice devoid of a sarcasm I had half expected.

I laughed weakly and let our hands come apart, my gaze flicking to my shoes, his boots, before meeting his face again. "And... uh... what's, ah..."

"My name?" he finished, still smiling plainly. "I'm Levi."

"Levi," I repeated. "Awesome. Yeah, nice to meet you."

Levi nodded with an indulgent grin, the corners of his eyes just barely creasing. After a moment of silence between us, he leaned forward slightly and raised his brow.

"Did you want something, Ash?"

I felt my mouth gaping like a fish and scrambled in my brain for the right words. I jammed my free hand in my pocket to keep it from wandering pointlessly, and to conserve warmth - I was quickly losing face in the open air's chill. "I just... I wanted to welcome you to the congregation finally... And say that if you have any questions or problems, you should come to me."

"Ah," said Levi. "I see. Thank you."

When he didn't show signs of trying to walk away, I continued, spurned on by my assumption of success. "Did you go to church somewhere else before?"

Levi smiled again, and very modestly shook his head. "No. Never."

"Oh. Well, um..." Despite my stumbles, I had momentum, and I clung to it, charging on blindly in an effort to reach out, to bring this person to my level. I had to. "Then... You should come to more stuff here. I can help you out - I know it can be like, a little intimidating. But I think you'd like taking part in some of our groups and... stuff like that."

I had no idea if my words were having any impact, my stammering, my lackluster encouragement. Levi crossed his arms, considering me. "Such as?"

"You should... I mean, you could come to bible study with me."

His expression was utterly unreadable. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out if he was actually considering my proposal, or questioning my mental capacity. This man, unwelcomed by the entire Lewitt First Baptist Church, who had politely declined taking communion, who had shown not even the slightest desire to worship or pray - but, after all, he was here. He was here for a reason. As I nervously thumbed the tabs in my bible, waiting for him to laugh at me, Levi blinked slowly, then spoke. "When?"

I blinked back. "When... when what?"

He smiled indulgently. "When is bible study?"

Oh! He was actually... Was he really considering it? I felt my pulse in my tongue as I grinned back at him. "It's on Wednesday - every Wednesday - the men's study group is, anyway. In the evening. I can pick you up, do you live around here?"

"I do," Levi replied, his brow furrowing slightly in... thought? "I've moved here recently. To Lewitt, I mean. But..."

I chewed my lip. "Are you busy that night?"

"Mm... no." His eyes were focused hard on me, mist foaming the air as he breathed out slowly. Finally he unfolded his arms and opened his mouth to speak again, hesitating before his words. "I'll go with you, Ash. To your bible study."

"Great! Do you want me to -"

"On one condition."

I paused, then hugged my bible to my chest. "What's that?"

There was amusement playing around the corners of his mouth, his eyes flicking from mine to the rest of me - searching for what? "Well, two things. One... I'll drive. I'll pick you up and take us here."

"Okay. That's fine."

"Two," he continued. "I'd like to grab dinner with you afterwards."

Was that all? I shrugged and laughed breathily. "Yeah, why not? Sounds great! Bible study starts at six. Should I text you?"

"Sure," said Levi. He reached into his chest pocket, pulling out what looked like a little black card - then hesitated, stuck it back in his pocket, and reached into the lining of his leather jacket instead. After a moment, he withdrew a tiny notebook and a pen, scribbled something down, and tore out one of its brownish pages. This he handed to me. "Here's my number. Text me any time. I'll get around to it. And send me your address so I can pick you up."

"Yeah - sure!" I glanced at the little page, a grin splitting my cheeks. "So I'll see you on Wednesday!"

Levi turned and waved over his shoulder. "See you."

I watched him head across the parking lot towards the back with interest, wondering what his vehicle looked like. Now that I was coming down off the high of chasing Levi down, I was coming to the realization that this could have gone so much worse than it did. And I also realized I was freezing my ass off. I breathed out hard, hugging myself. Just as I was wishing I had grabbed my jacket, it landed over my head.

"Mom wanted me to bring you your coat," said Dan as he came up behind me. "What the hell did you go running off for, anyway?"

I pulled the jacket off my head and slipped it on gratefully, shuddering as the raised hair of my arms rubbed the lining. Tucking my bible back under my arm and the phone number in my pocket, I turned to Dan. "Just being friendly to a new neighbor."

Dan craned around me and screwed up his face. "The biker guy from the back row? What'd you wanna bother him for?"

I gave Dan a light swat over the head. He scowled and fixed his hair. "He's not a biker," I said. Well... maybe he was, though, I thought. It would explain the boots and the jacket. "I'm bringing him to bible study this week."

Dan looked as if I'd just told him our mom was taking up motorcycling herself. "How'd you get him to agree to THAT bullshit?"

I gave him another swat. "In God, all things are possible. And don't cuss."

"Whatever," Dan scoffed. "He's probably just doing it to mess with you."

I opened my mouth to argue, but couldn't find exactly what I wanted to say. As Dan stalked back to the church doors to wait for our parents, I glanced over my shoulder as if searching for a glimpse of a motorcycle or any car that Levi had gone off to... But in the packed parking lot, I didn't see a vehicle that looked like it belonged to the strange man who had somehow agreed to join me in prayer.

~

Classes were slow to start and dragged on all Monday morning. Normally I was a decent note-taker - my binders and notebooks were meticulously kept and tabbed like my bible, not because I was an excellent student by nature, but rather because I was often so scatterbrained with my studies that this method was the only way I could keep track and remember anything. But that day, whether it was due to the frigid February cold seeping into the lecture hall or my Wednesday night plans weighing on my mind, I couldn't quite get my thoughts organized enough to write clearly. My shorthand notes were more incomprehensibly coded than usual. Further distraction came when my phone buzzed quietly against my leg, and I fished it out to see whatever it wanted.

Marc was texting me. We didn't have classes together on Mondays, but I knew he was probably in his Economics class at that moment. I opened the message under my desk, leaning on my elbow.

"You didn't even say bye after you ran off yesterday. asshole"

I snorted under my breath and smirked at my phone, tapping a reply out. "I needed to catch that guy before he left."

A pause, in which I tried to listen to the lecture again and failed. Marc buzzed back.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Yeah. His name's Levi." Or does he spell it Levigh? I thought. No, probably Levi. Like the jeans. "He's gonna come to bible study this week."

"Did he ask if he could come or something??"

"No I asked him and he said sure"

"Are you sure he's not fucking with you??"

"My brother said the same thing. What's with you guys. He's been coming to church for a month, obviously he's interested." Right? I thought hesitantly.

"I saw you with him at communion yesterday for a second. What happened?"

"Nothing. I offered it to him"

"Yeah what did he say?"

"No thank you"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Three times. But he said he'll come to bible study"

"He's sketchy as fuck"

"Drop it. Also I'm in class right now"

"Yeah I know, me too"

"So go back to class"

"K"

Sighing through my nose, I pocketed my phone and leaned on my elbow, trying to catch up with whatever I'd missed in the lecture. But it was harder this time to keep my mind on the professor's rambling and often unrelated chalkboard notes. Everyone around me seemed to have given Levi up as a bad job, wouldn't even think about giving him a chance. I was sure that when I told my parents, they, too, would doubt and scorn him. But why? Just because of his looks? Because of what he wore?

I had judged him that way, too, I realized. The first time I ever saw him, I had craned away from him, tried to avoid meeting his eyes. But he hadn't exactly stormed in, put his feet up on the pews, and started smoking or anything. He'd just sat there politely, respectfully silent. So what if he didn't stand or sing or pray? I was coming to suspect that rather than willful, he was simply shy.

My notes hadn't been kept up with the last ten minutes of the lecture. My colored highlighters hadn't moved, either. I sighed again and put my forehead against the heel of my hand. Was welcoming Levi really going to be such a hassle on my part?

There were bible verses about it. I tried to remember which one really applied here. Was it Hebrews? "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares." I imagined saying this next time I saw Marc, and Marc laughing at the thought of Levi being an angel in hiding.

~

And in fact, he did.

"I mean, I get where you're going with that, but come on," Marc said, wiping the corner of his eye with his sleeve. "If God sent down an angel to visit you, I don't think he'd be wearing black leather."

"That's not the point," I muttered sheepishly.

Once class had let out for both of us, we took to hanging at the freestanding wall by the tennis courts where students could practice by themselves or play racquetball. I was around the courts a lot, and by extension, so was Marc if he ever wanted to see me after class, for the simple reason that I was on Immaculata University's varsity tennis team. My sports scholarship was the main reason I'd even gotten in - it certainly wasn't my grade point average. Since it was still the beginning of the semester and practices were starting soon, I'd been carrying my Wilson racket around in its specialty bag and would drill between classes if I had to wait, or to kill time afterwards with Marc. I stood around dribbling the fuzzy yellow ball and taking lob shots at the wall while Marc sat with his back to it, off to the side so I wouldn't hit him. With the sun at my back and no trees to shade us, the freezing temperature wasn't actually all that bad. Still, I couldn't hold the racket right with gloves on, so my knuckles would end up red and sore with the cold.

"It's not the point," I reiterated, taking a lazy backhand swing at the ball and bouncing it against the wall. "I don't care if he's an angel or a thug. Neither of us know him. All I did was offer for him to come to bible study. Why do you have a problem with that?"

Marc threw his hands out, raising his eyebrows and tightening his mouth. "I dunno, man! I got a weird vibe from the guy, that's all. I got an instinct about people."

"Come on, Marc. 'Don't judge a book by its cover' is something we learned in first grade." With too much topspin on the return shot, I had to hit the ball with an overhead swing to bring it back down. When it finally came back at the level of my hand, I went back to dribbling. "Look, he could be a really nice guy. He seemed nice when I talked to him. So what if he dresses like a punk?"

"I dunno, I just think -"

"And besides," I went on, lobbing the ball again. "I'm pretty sure you guys are only so intent on making a big deal out of this because Levi is the most interesting thing to happen to Lewitt in a decade." Another backhand hit. "I get it. Town's boring. We need something to talk about, and then Levi strolls in with his leather gear and his long hair to stir the pot." Forehand shot. "But how about we reserve judgment until we know he's an asshole?"

"All right, all right. Calm down, Serena Williams," Marc smirked, putting his arms behind his head.

I snorted and caught the ball again. "I don't have the ass to be Serena."

Marc made one of those doubtful noises again and raised an eyebrow. "I dunno, man, all those leg exercises give you some serious back. Believe me, I'm not even looking on purpose..."

"Shut up," I snapped, feeling my ears burn. But I found myself pulling the hem of my jacket down behind me.

Marc sat up and crossed his legs, frowning. "I mean, I guess I just can't believe he agreed to go to bible study just like that..."

"Well..." I had taken to trying to bounce the ball on my racket without dropping it as I spoke. "He did have kind of a condition to it, if you wanna call it that."

Marc leaned forward an inch further. "Like what?"

The ball bounced off the racket and I leaned to grab it before it went too far. "He just wanted to grab dinner afterwards."

When I looked over at Marc, he had an expression of utter disbelief plastered on his face.

"What?" I said.

"Just wanted to grab dinner?"

"Well, yeah."

"Alone?"

I let the racket hang at my side and narrowed my eyes at him. "What exactly are you implying?" Then it dawned on me. "No - Marc, come on. He didn't mean like that."

"Are you positive?" he asked slowly. "Because 'I wanna go out to dinner with you' sure sounds like a date."

"Marc - have you seen him? Besides, you and I grab food together."

"Fuck, fine. But don't go telling me I didn't warn you."

I'd just about had it with this line of questioning. I shook my head, dribbled the ball one more time, and walked over to grab the racket bag from beside my canvas knapsack, packing everything away a little more roughly than I intended. "I'm going home. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Marc rolled himself forward onto his feet and straightened up, stretching. "You're not gonna stay and meet up with Janina?"

"Nah - she won't be here today. She texted me and said she'd be around for indoor training on Thursday."

"I can't believe you guys are prepping for the new season already."

"We're two months into the new semester. Gotta be ready for exhibitions."

Marc had never subscribed to the sportsman's life, but my father had pressed me into taking an elective in school. At least Marc showed up to my games, even if he didn't really get the hype. For all our bickering over Levi, I knew he only had my best interests at heart, forever the devil's advocate.

But until he had said something, I had not once considered the idea that Levi might have a deeper intention behind inviting me to dinner.

And now the thought harped at me.

~

Marc didn't press the issue during brief respites in class where we could speak to each other the next day, or at the wall where we hung out afterward again, or that Wednesday morning over text while I stayed home with essays for class. And yet he didn't have to, because a voice naggingly similar to his had taken its place in my head, nudging that little idea into the cracks of my brain, wherever it could surface. I had to keep telling myself, over and over: Levi doesn't want to date you. That's ridiculous. Look at him. He's a normal guy and he's going to come to bible study, and we'll have a good night.

Alone.

The umpteenth time I found myself thinking it that afternoon, I shook my head hard, as if trying to dislodge it from my ear like trapped water. What kind of filthy mind did I even have? I was sure Levi didn't think twice about our night out. Why should he? Two grown men could go get a meal without thinking it was something more. What more could it even be? Why was I obsessed? Why couldn't I stop thinking about it?

I had indeed texted Levi the address of my house rather late in the day, and I had only just noticed how late it was getting. At five o'clock I finalized my outfit for the night and examined myself in the mirror. I didn't want to try too hard - bible study wasn't like church where I was expected to fluff up a little. But I still went through a few different shirts before settling on a plain, heathered turquoise tee and dark jeans with the cuffs turned up. My hand lingered on my cross pendant as I tilted my head in the mirror before reaching and tugging on one of my thick curls, watching it spring back. What a mess. But then I realized I must have been spending too much time at the mirror... Who cared what I looked like? I certainly wasn't trying to impress Levi with my looks. I felt my ears burning as that crossed my mind.

Desperate to distract myself, I crouched down by my bookshelf and examined the small collection of devotionals and bibles I'd gathered over the years. I liked having them as a reminder of certain points of my life - my "Children's First" illustrated bible I had as a kid, a "Teen Boy's" devotional, each little book marking a chapter in my own story. I had my blue leather bible that I loved, but if I was bringing Levi with me, then he should have one, too. But none of the ones on my shelf that I had actually used would be much good to him... They were all (except for the children's bible) filled with colored highlighter and sticky tabs. Chewing on my thumbnail, I considered the numerous volumes before settling on the one I hadn't played with much: at the end of the row, overshadowed by my high school devotionals, a simple but otherwise nice bible my uncle had gifted me, its paperback cover in silver and pewter. I'd gotten it for Christmas when I was fifteen, and it had appealed to the edgy teen begging to burst out of me, but I'd been using hardback copies for years and was spoiled by them. This one, I thought, would be nice for my guest.

Asbel
Asbel
184 Followers
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