Church of the Epistles
A Story of Guilt and Redemption
by Gareth Young
A call from Cheryl just before lunch to tell Dwight that Robbie was home transformed his anxiety to anger. He barely paid attention to the store, to Darlene, as his fury grew, and by the time he approached home that evening, he could bear it no more. He made straight for Robbie’s room.
“Hi Dad.”
Robbie’s door was open and he was lying on his bed. He lowered his magazine and looked over the top as he spoke.
Dwight reeled, but not for the reason he expected. His first glimpse of Robbie was an old photograph of himself. His son had the strong nose and forehead that Dwight remembered from his own youth, the same narrow face, angular cheeks, and light blue eyes. His sandy hair was thick and wavy, though much longer than Dwight had ever allowed his own to grow. For a split second Dwight yearned for something lost: the sharp edges had vanished from his own face, now flat and featureless, lost along with the thrill of living.
But then Dwight saw something alien staring at him from Robbie’s eyes, and with shock recognized anger and intolerance.
“Where have you been?” Dwight demanded.
Robbie shrugged. “With a couple of friends.”
“Where?”
“Sorry, but I can’t tell you.”
“What do you mean, you can’t tell me?”
Robbie shrugged again. “It’s pretty simple: I can’t tell you.”
“Your mother and I have been worried sick. So long as you live in this house you will follow basic rules of courtesy, and that includes coming home at night.” Dwight’s temper had snapped and his voice was rising. Cheryl arrived behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Dwight ignored the click from down the hall as Clark disappeared quietly out of the way into his own room.
“Now, where have you been?”
“I told you, I can’t say.”