Adam's Grace - 5. "The Articles Of Faith" (Part 2)

"Fun's over. You boys either do what I say, or none of you will leave this lake alive." The mysterious person forewarned. Adam's eyes squinted as he realized he knew that voice.

"Father Daniel..." He whispered.

"By how you three conduct yourselves, I doubt anyone would come looking for you." Father Daniel said as he came from behind his car and carefully approached the group, pointing a Remington shotgun at the leader's head. All three thugs flinched back, their eyes on the white collar popping from under his leather coat. "Get in the truck and get the fuck out of here. If I ever see you around Dog's Creek again, I'll shove a bullet between your eyes." He warned as he drew back the gun's fore-end.

There was a short silence in which the tattooed thug's eyes met Father Daniel's. After which, he chuckled, smirking at the priest before taking a knife out of his pocket and cutting Adam's hands loose. The boy fell backward, his naked bum hitting the floor. He immediately pulled his ripped pants up and ran for Thomas' body, falling over him.

"Copy that, chief. Boys..." The leader uttered, signaling the others to get inside the truck, purposely hitting the accelerator as they drove off, causing a storm of dirt to hit Adam and Thomas before vanishing into the main road, their insane hollering fading in the distance.

Father Daniel's eyes unfurled suddenly, his chest shooting from the car seat he had been sleeping on for the last couple of hours. His hand immediately came up, brushing the back of his neck, face withering in pain.

"Fuck." He mumbled, sloping his head slowly from side to side as his eyes zoomed in on the bar by the side of the road, just a few yards from where he had parked the car.

The night had settled. Everything was dark except for the large flashing neon sign above the pub's roof. Daniel opened the car, walked out, and across the road, pushing the massive door into the establishment. As he did, the loud music blasting enveloped his body immediately. Inside, spread evenly across the space, several men sat. Alone, in pairs, some on tables and some on a large counter facing the bar and kitchen. A communal gaze fell over the priest's figure as he entered. Understandably so, for Daniel was a beautiful man, his charm enhanced by his concealed sacred garments.

He walked calmly over to one of the stools and sat down, turning to face the bar before a handsome, bearded, tattooed bear greeted him.

"What will it be, handsome?" The bartender asked.

"Just a beer, thank you," Daniel replied, his gaze scanning the tilted mirror that stretched along the ceiling's baseboard, allowing him a privileged view of his surroundings.

His eyes perused the tables and all the men who sat on them, mostly in pairs, eventually drifting over to a corner cubicle where a man sat alone. It wasn't long before the bartender returned with his order, and without a pause, Daniel grabbed the large pint and turned around, walking over to the seemingly friendless man. "Evening," he greeted.

The man's eyes rose, dark and mysterious. They locked on Daniel with a tamed interest.

"You're not from around here," he pointed out.

"I'm just passing through," Daniel explained. "Can I sit down?" he asked, waiting patiently as the other man scanned him, his tongue glazing over his parched lips. He nodded, and Daniel punched his mug over the table, sliding inside the booth, facing the dark-eyed hunk, whose eyes darted around the room. Daniel could sense his hesitation.

"What's your name?" Daniel asked.

"We're not doing that. No names." The man promptly replied, making Daniel chuckle negligibly.

"Okay," Daniel calmly responded. "Well, in case I end up sucking your cock, then...what should I call you?" Daniel quipped. The dark-eyed man leaned back on his chair, his body sinking into it.

"Daddy. Baby. Sir. Master." the man answered, his demeanor changing slowly, lips stretching into a grin. "Whatever gets you going," he added before his hand discretely slid under the table, clutching his crotch.

"What are you having?" Daniel questioned.

"Scotch," the man responded.

"I'll be right back," Daniel replied, sliding off the booth and walking to the bar.

The guy sat there, his eyes utterly spellbound as they stared at Daniel's perfect muscle ass, stretching the fabric on his black pants. After a while, he returned with another beer and a scotch. He sat down and pushed the whisky glass over the table.

"You've been here for twenty minutes and haven't even taken your coat off," the dark-eyed man commented.

"I don't plan on staying long," Daniel immediately countered. Then, he smiled, raising his glass. "Cheers," he uttered, tapping it against the guy's thick glass.

"Bottoms up." The man teased, chugging the entire drink down his throat and slapping the empty drink on the table. By now, he was groaning slightly, and his hand was tucked under his pants, stroking his cock.

"Now...what do you say we get the fuck out of here?" Daniel suggested, smirking at the man's pleased countenance. "I think I can take care of that for you," he added, glancing at the guy's crotch.

"Fuck yeah..." the man groaned before they both leaped from their seats and walked out of the bar, the door slowly closing behind them.

(Hours later)

The dark-eyed man woke, his face pressed against the ground. He coughed a couple of times, raising a cloud of dirt around him, and immediately realized his hands were tied behind his back as he lay on the ground facing down.

"You're awake. Good." Daniel's voice spoke from behind him. The man's eyes darted around, his immobilized body preventing him from assessing the priest's identity.

"What the fuck is this?" the dark-eyed guy groaned, a noticeable frustration taking hold.

"This is what you get for messing with strangers. Sooner or later, you'll pick up someone crazier than you," Daniel mocked, leaning over the back of his truck. "Relax," he calmly stated. "Let's have a little chat," he proposed.

"I..." the guy stuttered, and a wave of rage finally burst from his throat. "You're messing with the wrong person, chief!" he hollered.

He could feel the scent of wet grass brush through his nose and the sound of Daniel's steps circling him. Then, he felt a hand grab his collar and pull him up, his back slamming against something cold and hard. His face withered in pain, and his eyes closed as he felt a sharp object hit his lower back. Then, as he opened them, he saw Daniel in front of him, just standing there before slowly squatting, his gaze coming down to meet his. The thug's eyes immediately gaped as he noticed the top part of Daniel's alb and the white collar on his neck.

"C'mon now, Arthur. That's no way to greet an old friend," Daniel said, purposely allowing the hooligan time to process. As Arthur's face morphed, surprise and awe taking hold, Daniel smiled. "I was sure you'd recognize me immediately, but..." he ridiculed.

"Danny...?" Arthur mumbled.

"You know...when you showed up at Dog's Creek that night, I have to say I was surprised," Daniel stated, his eyes scouring Arthur's face cautiously. "Took me a couple of days and a lot of praying to realize that maybe...just maybe, God was giving me a second chance," he rambled to himself.

"What the fuck...?" Arthur muttered, visibly shaken by Daniel's divulgences, gradually gathering the pieces. "Hey man, we were just having a little fun..." he tried to argue, unable to, from under his nervousness, hide a particularly troubling fascination with Daniel's presence.

"I know," Daniel uttered with a smile. Then he stood up and pulled a shotgun from the back of the van. He aimed it at Arthur's left foot and pulled the trigger, the blast echoing across the deserted clearing.

"Mother fucker!" Arthur's voice screamed in excruciating pain, his face turning pale, his body shaking, and his breath hectic. "Fu...I'm going to pass out..." the thug whimpered, his voice tumbling into an almost incoherent manner.

"Your fun cost those two boys a lot of suffering. And pain," Daniel uttered, circling back to the front, standing over Arthur, and lowering the shotgun. "God knows how many more people you hurt along the way," he whispered.

"Who cares about a couple of faggots?" Arthur screamed, his words waining into a deep silence, lost in the dark vastness around them.

Daniel lifted his arm and slapped Arthur across the face, pressing his palm against the thug's mouth, gagging him.

"Despite your best efforts, they survived," Daniel's calm, collected voice whispered as he leaned in. "More than survived. Their love is a testament to God's grace, his wisdom," he stated as his eyes beamed. "You see, Arthur...now I know it was God that held my hand that day in the cornfield when you shot Aziel. It was God that led you to that lake and forced your disgusting hands on Adam's body," Daniel revealed, his voice gaining momentum. "And it was God that led me there too. So I could finally understand that even the ugliest darkness can birth the most glorious miracle," he finally conveyed, releasing his hand from Arthur's mouth, a loud gasp following it.

"You're talking crazy, man," Arthur cried out as these eery giggles poured out his mouth.

"But what you did to Aziel...?" Daniel mumbled, his tone suddenly shifting, turning dark and gritty. "You robbed him of a life. You broke his beautiful spirit," he added, grabbing Arthur's hair and dragging him across the ground as the thug whimpered in pain, his bare feet dragging across the dirt. Daniel had blown two of his toes off.

"Kneel," Daniel ordered.

"Wait, wait, wait...c'mon, man..." Arthur nervously muttered as he tried to straighten himself. Daniel stood there, shotgun in hand, patiently waiting for the hoodlum to assume the position.

"You know Arthur...hate is just like love. A seed that, if nurtured, ends up growing and becomes part of who you are," Daniel preached, his voice subdued and composed. "So, in order to get rid of it, you need to burn the root to its core," he added, the sound of the shotgun's fore-end being pulled back reverberating.

"Fuck...please, Danny...what about God?!" Arthur's desperate voice bargained. "He'll never forgive you for this," the thug whimpered.

"You're probably right. But that's something I'm willing to accept," Daniel stated, lifting the barrel and firing a shot into the back of Arthur's head.

The miscreant's head burst open, bathing Daniel's white color in red, and his body tumbled forward and hit the ground as the sound of the shot fired resounded across the deserted valley.

(The following morning)

"And who is this man you seek?" The priest finally asked.

Silence took hold, and this time, it seemed to linger purposely until Daniel's voice finally replied from the other side of the grid.

"His name is Aziel."

The priest's expression froze, eyes shivering slightly.

"Well, Father?" Daniel insisted.

"Aziel...he...doesn't take visitors anymore," the priest stuttered. Daniel leaned in, his breathy voice puncturing the grid.

"What do you mean?" Daniel questioned.

"He was just a boy when that awful tragedy took place," the priest stated, his nervousness slowly thawing. "Word eventually got out that he had survived, and a few days later, the town was filled with reporters and religious mobs, trying to turn him into a symbol, a martyr of sorts. It took a toll on him and his family." He explained while Daniel sat there, eyes locked on the priest's every word.

"What happened to his family?" Daniel asked, voice quavering with dread.

"Aziel's father couldn't handle what had happened to the boy, and he put a gun to his mouth a few months later...or so I've heard," the priest informed. Daniel pulled back, leaning against the burgundy leather seat. "His mother passed away a few years ago. His sister takes care of him now," he added.

"Fatima," Daniel inadvertently remarked.

"Yes..." the priest reacted, slightly surprised. "I visit them every now and then," he divulged.

"What does he..." Daniel stumbled. "I mean, what do you talk about?" he finally asked, his words choked by emotion.

"We don't talk. I sit there and hold his hand," the priest uttered as Daniel's eyes filled with a glistening layer. "Sometimes I... never mind. I shouldn't..." he stuttered.

"What, Father?" Daniel pressed, his face leaning against the grid.

"Most times, it seems he's just there, waiting for death to come," the priest whispered, almost as if his inner thoughts were being made known unwillingly. "But, sometimes I stare inside his eyes, those deep blue eyes...and I see..." the priest stammered, hearing Daniel's caged breath on the other side.

"What do you see, Father?" Daniel asked, his words claiming.

"Hope," the priest uttered, allowing Daniel's tears to tumble down his face.

Both men sat there in silence as if an invisible force had taken over their souls, an unstated understanding.

"Thank you, Father," Daniel whispered through the grid.

The priest smiled and leaned back before he heard movement on the other side. He lifted his arm and slid the grid sideways, opening the small confessional portico. But by then, Daniel was gone.

One hour later, he was sitting inside his car, gripping the stirring wheel firmly, gazing intensively at a small house on the other side of the road he had just parked on. The house was aged and battered down. It had a light brown picket fence around it and a small barn next to it. Despite the odd circumstance, Daniel's presence there was anything but random. In fact, that house had been the stage of most of his childhood, spent walking in and out of that porch door. His lips stretched into a nervous smile before his hand went for the door. But as it did, the home's entrance flared open, and an older woman, probably in her fifties, walked out. She wore modest clothes and an apron covering them, her silky fingers brushing against it as she wiped off her flour-covered hands. She ambled down the small steps and across the carefully tended garden in front of the house. It wasn't long before her astute gaze locked on Daniel's car. She squinted and pulled back her neck, darting around before slowly walking to the car.

"Can I help you?" her tired voice asked. Daniel smiled, his eyes melting before the woman's presence. Daniel pulled off his dark sunglasses. The woman's expression immediately opened, and a glossy layer covered her eyes. "Danny?" she questioned before Daniel slowly nodded.

"It's nice to see you again, Fatima," he stated, stepping out of the car. She rushed over, stopping inches from him, eyes gaping in surprise.

"I can't believe..." she muttered, trying to cage her tears.

"Me neither," Daniel replied, lips stretching softly.

"How long has it been?" Fatima asked.

"Too long," Daniel replied before his breath stumbled, his throat locking. He could sense Fatima's body wavering, eager to embrace him. Daniel raised his hands, and she leaped into his arms.

"I can't..." she whispered, her head nestled inside Daniel's shoulder. "I didn't think..." she tried to convey, but her words failed her. She let her head fall on Daniel's chest, sobbing.

"I need to see him," Daniel whispered, pulling Fatima away. "But I'm not sure how he'll react," he nervously added. Then, suddenly, her eyes locked on Daniel's collar.

"I think he's been waiting for you," she whimpered.

"Where is he?" Daniel asked.

"In the back. He always sits there, facing..." she muttered before Daniel interrupted her.

"My uncle's house..." he uttered, eyes glistening. He smiled and leaned forward, kissing her forehead before walking towards the house.

Daniel's heart was beating out of his chest, his mind overpowered by the most disarming apprehension. He had never felt like this in his life. His faith in consecrated providence, which had been his source of strength for so long, now surrendered to whatever was beyond that door. He pushed it open with his fingers, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling his lungs. Inside, everything was quiet and peaceful, and as Daniel walked across the small kitchen towards the back door that led to a patio with a well-tended garden, he could feel his whole life flashing before his eyes.

A soft, familiarly tender yet feeble voice stopped him, and his body froze inches from the screen panel.

"Fati, who...was that?" Aziel's voice questioned.

Daniel felt everything going numb, his heartbeat pulsing inside his ears. But his feet kept pulling him across the floor, and soon, his arm stretched forward, pushing the door open. Standing on the back stoop, he paused, his eyes locked forward. Before him, a wheelchair with a tank of oxygen attached to the back and from behind the chair's headrest, Aziel's stunning blonde hair peeked through. Daniel exhaled, escorting a deafening silence and, with it, the painful realization of what stood before him. His best friend, that once youthful, spirited boy's body, had grown. Hostage and fettered to a wheelchair.

"Hello, Aziel," Daniel uttered, his voice puncturing the grassy lawn.

Another silence. It felt longer and sharper this time, like a sudden cold breeze. Daniel heard the oxygen machine fire a slight discharge seconds later, and Aziel's chest inhaled deeply.

"It took you...long enough," Aziel whispered between heavy breaths. It was apparent that breathing was difficult for him. Every couple of words was interwoven with deep, puncturing breaths.

"I didn't realize that..." Daniel stuttered, unable to find the words to comfort his soul.

"I was in a...wheelchair? Yeah. One of the bullets hit...my spinal cord," Aziel explained before the intensity of his voice began to wane. "You would know if you had...stuck around..." he muttered.

Daniel began to walk toward him, his eyes slowly scouring the chair. As he finally neared it, his gaze uncovered Aziel's frail body. His legs had thinned to the bone, and his beautiful skin was covered in little hives. His arms and hands fell flat over his lap, motionless.

"Actually...I hid for three months in my uncle's barn," Daniel revealed, stopping beside the chair, eyes darting at Aziel's figure, trying desperately to overcome his shock.

"Liar," Aziel uttered, eyes gleaming.

"It's true. You remember those busted stairs to the loft floor?" Daniel questioned.

There was a brief pause, and even from the side, Daniel could see Aziel's blue eyes glistening.

"You used to point your...flashlight into my...bedroom window from there, wake me up...in the middle of the night," Aziel commented in between weighty breaths while the oxygen machine aided his words.

"I'd snuck in and out every couple of days for food," Daniel continued, resuming his step and slowly walking over to Aziel's chair, stopping inches from it. "But weeks went by without a word from the hospital. I guess I got scared," he explained.

"Why didn't you..." Aziel whispered faintly.

"I tried. Your dad wouldn't let me see you...said he'd kill me if I ever came looking for you again." Daniel revealed before pausing. "I was just a fucking kid...so I believed him," he finally conveyed, head falling defeated between his shoulders.

"We both did," Aziel replied, his eyes facing the old barn in the distance, a murky portrait of their past—one of pureness and hope.

"I'm sorry," Daniel whispered, his hand inadvertently coming up, fingers brushing Aziel's uncomed blonde curls.

Daniel stepped forward and crouched, finally unveiling himself to Aziel, whose blue gaze dove instantly inside him, scanning every inch of his soul, like only he could, finally lingering on his neck.

"You're a priest," he stated in the most demilitarizing, non-judgmental way. Daniel chuckled.

"I prefer the term, man of faith." He replied cheekily, causing Aziel's lips to stretch into a subtle smile. But slowly, it melted back into the deep-rooted gloom the blue-eyed beauty seemed hostage to.

Their eyes lingered on each other, a sea of tacit words and dreamt moments washing before them. Inside that deep ocean, a life that could have been. One of love, intimacy, and desire fulfilled.

"You abandoned me," Aziel whispered, his chest struggling to breathe, confining his tears.

"Yes," Daniel admitted. His friend's presence gradually unearthed the truth he had so desperately hidden from himself all these years.

"Why?" Aziel questioned.

"I felt guilty," Daniel conceded.

A long silence followed.

"It wasn't your fault," Aziel's voice conveyed.

There was another silence. Daniel's head fell again, and Aziel's blue eyes followed him, scanning the priest's back as it shivered. Daniel sobbed in complete stillness like a frightened child. His tears were digging up all his rage, pain, and anger. And even though he physically couldn't, every ounce of Aziel's soul and spirit touched Daniel and consoled him.

After years of self-inflicting guilt, Daniel was finally allowed to atone for his sins. And Aziel, in the most selfless act of compassion, bestowed him with the most precious of gifts: forgiveness. Daniel raised his head, his face covered in tears, cheeks flushed. Yet, he smiled.

"Can you feel anything?" he questioned.

"Nothing below my neck," Aziel replied.

Daniel brought his hand up and brushed it softly over Aziel's cheek.

"Do you feel this?" he gently asked, fingers skating gracefully along his best friend's face.

Aziel blinked, signaling his approval. Daniel leaned forward and brushed the tip of his nose on his friend's cheek. Aziel chuckled softly, coating the small inches of distance between them with his breath.

There they were again, close enough to each other that they finally felt whole again.

"What about this?" Daniel questioned, leaning further in and kissing Aziel's face softly. He could feel the static waves moving along his moist lips.

"Hmhm," Aziel mumbled, his breath charged with emotion. "Danny..." the blue-eyed beauty whispered.

"Yeah?" Daniel whispered back.

"I love you." Aziel professed, his words charged with longing and overwhelming certainty.

"I love you, too. So much." Daniel replied, feeling himself sink into his friend's spirit.

"Then why...did you leave me?" Aziel asked.

"I guess I went searching..." Daniel tried to explain, his heart slowly opening up.

"For what?" Aziel questioned.

There was a long pause before Daniel finally detached himself from Aziel, gazing deeply into his eyes.

"Answers, meaning, hope," he said. "I went looking for God," Daniel said.

"And did you...find him?" Aziel's sweet voice asked, his every syllable bottled with yearning.

"Oh, Aziel, I did," Daniel replied, smiling. "Do you remember that afternoon at the church?" he questioned. Aziel chuckled, a sharp breath followed by a plunging inhale.

"How could I forget? It was the...happiest moment of my life," Aziel responded.

"Do you remember the angel on the stained glass ceiling?" Daniel continued. Aziel blinked slowly, the movement reviving his treasured memory. "What if I told you he's real?" Daniel added. There was a pause, a brief moment where he could see something shift inside Aziel's blue eyes.

"Danny..." he murmured.

"There's a boy. His name is Adam. I witnessed him do things I thought...impossible." Daniel revealed.

Aziel's eyes fell to the ground. But Daniel's voice swooped in immediately, unwilling to allow Aziel to succumb to despair.

"Look at me," he beckoned, grabbing Aziel's hand. Slowly, the beauty's blue eyes ascended, locking back on Daniel. "I would never lie to you," he swore.

But he could feel his friend's spirit pulling away.

"Why did you come back?" Aziel whispered.

"I came back because..." Daniel stuttered. "I'm not ready to let you go," he admitted. I'm going back to Dog's Creek. And I'm bringing Adam to you," he disclosed. "He'll save you. He'll heal you. I know he will," Daniel's hopeful voice declared.

"I'm tired, Danny. I'm...ready to go." Aziel's feeble voice muttered, visibly debilitated.

"Aziel, please...promise me you'll wait. Just a little longer. Please." Daniel beseeched, every particle of his soul clinging to his profound faith.

"You know...I'd wait an eternity...for you..." Aziel professed strenuously, his breath becoming weaker by the second.

Daniel leaned in and embraced him softly. His hands unhurriedly slid around his friend's neck, skating down into his back. Then, suddenly, his fingers stumbled as they brushed against what felt like a large lump—an all-too-familiar bruising along Aziel's shoulder blades. Daniel's eyes flared, and he pulled back.

"These lesions...on your back..." Daniel muttered, lost in thought. "Does it hurt?" he asked in a soothing tone.

"No," Aziel uttered, visibly tired.

"My angel," Daniel whispered, kissing Aziel's lips softly. He could feel the blonde beauty's mouth melt into his.

He pulled away, stood up, and walked back inside, rushing past the kitchen and over to his car. Fatima was leaning over a small orchard, gently harvesting strawberries and placing them neatly inside a small bowl.

"I'll be back soon," Daniel stated, stopping beside her. She lifted her head, eyes squinting as the sun hit them. "Those bruises on his back..." he mumbled.

"Oh, yeah... doctors said it's normal for acute spinal cord injuries. Too much time lying down," Fatima explained, clearly ignorant of its significance, one that Daniel was gradually uncovering.

"When did you first notice them?" Daniel questioned, his eyes lost in reflection.

"Hum...around the time you left. Why?" she asked, intrigued by Daniel's questioning.

"Nothing," he elusively replied before turning around and trekking to his car. He opened the door, sat down, and placed his arms over the steering wheel.

Daniel closed his eyes, and when he did, he felt a spirited draft fly through him, jangling every tiny hair on his body. A gentle wave, nudging his spirit, like a caged whisper. He inhaled deeply, overwhelmed by the aroma coursing through his body. An odorous, redolent scent of marigolds.

Daniel opened his eyes, and tears fell from them as he smiled.

He turned the key in the ignition and drove off.

(12 hours later)

The truck was about 5.5 yards from Dog's Creek entrance when Daniel's foot abruptly punched the brakes, the wheels sliding across the asphalt before finally stopping. He leaned against the wheel, eyes scouring the strange, insubstantial, shimmering, translucid wall that seemed to rise from the ground and stretch upwards, disappearing into the sky. He opened the car door and stepped outside, slowly walking over to it. He halted, eyes flickering with wonderment before his right arm finally stretched forward, and the tip of his fingers brushed the strange layer.

As they did, a tingling sensation rushed through Daniel's body, escorted by a cacophony of gentle whispers. Melodic yet indistinct voices brushed his soul like a comforting, loving embrace. He closed his eyes, his chest choking momentarily with overwhelming emotion before he exhaled. Suddenly, as he finally unfurled his eyes and pulled back, Daniel realized that the mystical barrier before him was only a tiny part of a massive dome, a mysterious nimbus covering the entire town.

Daniel stumbled back, his neck bending backward before he turned around, eyes glancing towards the other end of the road. He chuckled nervously and walked back to the car, hopping inside and turning the key in the ignition. But as he focused his attention back on the road, he paused, inadvertently glimpsing at the town sign whose engraved words gently glittered through the scraped, worn-out plate.

"Well, I'll be damned..." Daniel whispered as his astonished gaze lazed on the letters that seemed to magically rearrange themselves.

"Welcome to GOD'S CREEK"

(To be concluded...)