Losing Faith (5 page)

Silence lingered between them for a moment, and then Abel stretched out and rested his arm on the back of the bench. “It was a really tough night.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Abel continued to stare out over the darkness of the Cape Fear River. “It would do no good.”

Swinging together in the darkness of the crisp fall night in perfect rhythm, the screech and whine of the swing protesting every move, Cullen counted the seconds between each time the Oak Island Lighthouse far off in the distance bathed them in the glow of its lamp.

In one of the rotations, Cullen could have sworn he saw the light reflect off of a single tear sliding down Abel’s cheek. Unable to let it go, Cullen finally said, “It might.”

“It was just another Bible study with those holier-than-thou, Southern Baptist, backwoods attitudes. I don’t think the church will ever change.”

“So that’s what was going on,” Cullen said. “I passed by the church on my way to dinner and saw the crowd mingling on the steps.”

“I thought that was you,” Abel said. “I waved, but you were already gone. I had some things to do in the church, but as soon as I finished, I took a chance and walked over. I was hoping I’d find you here.”

Cullen looked back out over the water. “What verses of the Bible were you studying tonight?”

More silence. And then Abel sighed. It seemed like he was about to finally take Cullen into his confidence. But instead, they both jumped at the sound of a woman’s voice.

“Pastor Weston?”

Abel jumped to his feet. “Courtney! Hey. What are you doing here?”

Cullen listened as the girl explained. “I saw you walk this way after Bible study, so I followed you. I just wanted to tell you that you did a great job tonight with those old coots.”

Courtney looked between Abel and Cullen. “Oh. Courtney. This is uh… uh… Reverend Cullen Kiley. He’s an Episcopal priest visiting Southport for a few days.”

What the…? Episcopal priest?

Cullen stood and extended his hand. “Uh… that’s retired Episcopal priest. It’s nice to meet you, Courtney.”

Courtney shook Cullen’s hand and looked back at Abel. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, Pastor Weston. I just wanted you to know there are people in your corner. I’ll let you gentlemen get back to your conversation.”

“Oh no, Courtney. It’s okay. It’s too late to walk alone. Where are you parked?”

“Back at the church.”

“Okay, then. I’ll escort you.”

Abel turned to Cullen and nervously extended his hand. “Good night, Reverend Kiley. It was great to see you. I hope I’ll see you again before you leave.” Abel’s face was full of pain and misery, and it broke Cullen’s heart.

“Good night, Pastor Weston.”

Abel offered his arm to Courtney and led her back in the direction of the church. Cullen watched until they turned the corner and he could no longer see them. He sat back down on the swing and looked out over the water.

What the heck just happened?
That was the most bizarre thing I think I’ve ever experienced. And where did that Reverend Kiley crap come from?

IT WAS
almost midnight before Cullen climbed back onto
T-Time
. After Abel’s swift departure, Cullen had spent over an hour sitting alone on the swing, hypnotized by the rotating glow of the Oak Island light and the sounds of the waves crashing against the seawall. As he pushed himself back and forth with one foot, the screeching and whining of the wooden swing lulled him into a rhythm. He contemplated his departure, and just before he left the park, he made a mental note that if he ever did come back to Southport, he should bring a can of WD-40 with him.

Now safely back onboard his boat, Cullen poured himself a couple of fingers of bourbon and settled topside to enjoy the clear, brisk evening. After much deliberation and weighing of the odds, Cullen decided he would get up at first light, run his five miles, and then cast off. Maybe Charleston and then maybe even farther south. The fun was in not knowing.

Run your five miles, huh? Yeah, right! You know you’re hoping for one last chance meeting with Abel.

“So what if I am,” Cullen said aloud and then looked around to make sure no one was in earshot as he talked to himself.

After panicking about forgetting Cole and the life they shared, followed by the almost juvenile revelation that he would never forget the man he’d loved or their life together, there was really no reason to hold on to the things they’d enjoyed together or the places they had visited. Therefore, there was nothing keeping him here.

Or was there? Something was nagging at him. Or someone, to be exact. Abel. He couldn’t deny he was worried Abel was alone and wasn’t going to make it through this tough time. Could he help the man in some way before he left?

Come on! You don’t even know the guy. You met him on a random park bench, and he hasn’t opened up to you, so how can you help him?

Their meeting had been a chance one. They had simply been two strangers who crossed paths in the early morning hours. One person reaching out to another person in a moment of distress. That’s all. End of story.

Then why are you so hell-bent on helping the guy? And don’t say you’re doing this out of habit. You’re retired and no longer required to do this kind of work. He doesn’t need saving, and he’s not one of your congregation. You no longer have a congregation.

That realization made Cullen think about his own situation for a moment.
How could you go from a happily married Episcopal priest with your own church and thriving congregation to where you are today?
Cullen looked up to the stars.
Shit happens! That’s how!

But Abel. He seems to be in so much pain. I can’t just leave him.

Sure you can! He’s not your responsibility.

Logically Cullen knew all this debating and back and forth was stupid, but his head and his heart were two totally different things.

CULLEN WOKE
before the alarm sounded. There were no signs of light peeking through his cabin portholes, so he knew it was still fairly early. Rolling onto his back, he stretched and looked up at the ceiling, trying to gauge how he felt emotionally. He’d slept pretty well and hadn’t been plagued by any bad dreams.
That’s a start.

Cullen glanced at the clock: 5:55. Without a second thought, he hopped out of bed, made a brief stop in the head, and ended up in the galley making coffee. While he waited for the coffee to brew, Cullen’s thoughts drifted back to last night’s internal tug of war.
Do I go, or do I stay?
He’d gone over every pro and con, and after much internal deliberation, just before he’d drifted off, he’d made the decision that when he went out for his run, if Abel was in the park, he would try one last time to get him to open up. If he didn’t or wouldn’t, Cullen would simply go. In truth he was still feeling pretty good about his game plan. “If I’m meant to stay it will work out that way,” Cullen whispered while he poured his coffee.

Well! Listen to you, Cullen Kiley. Is that a little faith I hear in your voice?

“Absolutely not!” he mumbled and put the thought right out of his head.

Cullen sipped on his second cup of coffee and watched the bright orange-and-gold hues of a beautiful dawn filling the eastern sky. When he saw the arc of the sun peek over the horizon, he downed the rest of his coffee, went down below, and changed into his running clothes.

It was still a little chilly when Cullen stepped off the boat, and he was thankful he’d worn a long-sleeved running shirt. He started his exercise application, attached his cell phone to his right bicep, put his earbuds in, stretched, and took off down the dock.
Well, Kiley. Let’s get a move on and see what the day brings.

Cullen exited the marina at a brisk pace. He turned right on East Bay and ran along the front of the Municipal Marina. He figured taking a longer route would give Abel a little extra time to get to the Riverwalk—if indeed he was planning to go there. And if Abel happened to be there and they started talking, it would most likely be the stopping point for Cullen, so he wanted to get as much of a run in as possible before he reached the park.

After a half mile, Cullen turned left on Caswell and enjoyed the charming little neighborhood of clapboard houses painted in various pastel colors, all with white scroll work and lattice trim. After three more miles, he turned right onto South Atlantic Avenue and started working his way down to the Riverwalk. As soon as he rounded the corner, he could see the water off in the distance, and his heart started beating faster in anticipation of what he would find when he got there.

When Cullen was about a half mile from the water’s edge, he started his sprint. He was tired of the building anticipation, and it was time to know if Abel was there or not. He pushed himself as hard as he could and sprinted across East Bay and into the park. He took to the sidewalk and almost stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded the turn and saw a guy sitting on one of the park benches. From the guy’s body language and the sun reflecting off of his reddish-blond hair, Cullen could tell it was Abel. By the time he got there, his heart was nearly leaping out of his chest, and he was having a hard time breathing.

“Hey,” Abel said, handing him a cup of coffee.

Cullen waved him off and dropped down next to him. He lowered his head between his legs and tried to catch his breath.

Abel laughed. “You don’t have to fake fatigue this time.”

“Not… faking.” Cullen gasped for air. “Sprinted… the last… half mile.”

Abel stood and put the two cups of coffee on the sidewalk. “Do I really need to call 911 this time?”

Cullen waved his hand in the air. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.” No matter how out of breath Cullen was, he didn’t miss how great Abel looked. He appeared to be very comfortable in a dark green V-neck sweater that really brought out the color in his eyes, blue jeans, and brown leather driving shoes with no socks. He’d been handsome in his suit, of course, but this was a different kind of handsome. More relaxed and youthful.

“If you say so.” Abel sat back down and picked up his coffee cup.

Cullen stood and paced back and forth on the sidewalk. Three minutes passed before he started to regain some sort of even breathing. When Cullen looked up, Abel was smiling and sipping his coffee.

“What’s so funny?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yeah! Why do you torture yourself like that?”

“Oh, please,” Cullen smirked. “I do it to try and compete with age and gravity. Why do
you
do it?”

Abel chuckled and once again offered Cullen the second cup of coffee. “I don’t.”

“You apparently do something. You’re in great shape.” Cullen accepted the cup.

“Thanks. The gym is my poison. Most days, at least an hour. Maybe two.”

“Well, it shows.” Cullen held up his coffee cup. “By the way, what’s this?”

“A peace offering, I guess.” Abel paused. “I really hoped I’d see you again before you left so I could apologize for being an ass last night.”

Cullen sat next to Abel on the bench and nodded. “Yeah? What was that reverend crap all about? You know very well I’m retired and on not so good terms with the man upstairs.”

Abel turned and looked Cullen in the eyes. “I’m really sorry. It was just an attack of paranoia.”

Cullen tilted his head. “Paranoia? I don’t understand.”

Abel hesitated.

Here we go again.
“Look, Abel. My plan is to leave Southport this morning. I came by here for one last opportunity to see if I could help you in some way before I left. But if I have any chance, you’ll have to open up to me. If you don’t feel comfortable enough to do that, then I’ll be on my way. It’s that simple.” Cullen looked away. “I have my own demons to fight, ya know?”

“Please, don’t go.” Abel said it so low Cullen almost didn’t hear him.

“Abel.” Cullen sighed.

Abel took another sip of his coffee.

Cullen did the same and waited patiently.

“Last night at Bible study….” Abel’s voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat. “We were debating homosexuality and the Bible. Pastor Williams argued against it, of course, and I was appointed to argue on its behalf. And by the end of the night, he had a bunch of the attendees about to get pitchforks, light torches, and drive the bad homosexuals out of town.”

Cullen chuckled as the scene unfolded in his head.

But Abel stood and started pacing in front of the park bench. “Leviticus 18:22. ‘You shall not lie with a male as with a woman. It is an abomination.’ And 1 Corinthians 6:9–10. ‘Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived. Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor homosexuals, nor sodomites, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners will inherit the kingdom of God.

“These were just a couple of the verses he used. Can you believe the Bible lumps homosexuals in with thieves, adulterers, prostitutes, and alcoholics? Not to mention slanderers and swindlers. And don’t get me started on what they said about Sodom and Gomorrah. Do you know the formal statement on homosexuality from the Southern Baptist Convention?”

“I don’t,” Cullen said.

“I do. Because I was forced to memorize it. ‘We affirm God’s plan for marriage and sexual intimacy—one man, and one woman, for life. Homosexuality is not a “valid alternative lifestyle.” The Bible condemns it as sin. It is not, however, unforgivable sin. The same redemption available to all sinners is available to homosexuals. They, too, may become new creations in Christ.’”

“Sit, Abel.” Cullen stood and took Abel by the shoulders. “In the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, God sent a couple of angels disguised as men to Sodom, where the men of Sodom threatened to gang rape them. The angels blinded the men, and then God destroyed the city. Abel, for centuries this story has been interpreted as God’s judgment on homosexuality. But gang rape was the only form of same-sex behavior that was threatened.”