Resurrection

by Michael Clements

  Puzzled, Theia asked, “I thought you were hiding with Sophie, with your father.”

  Jeremy stared at her a moment. “I was…”

  “I mean, just you three. But I also thought that you and her were … adopted or something? I could’a sworn she told a completely different story.”

  Jeremy laughed to himself a little. “Adopted? Fuck no. You sure we’re talking about the same Sophie?”

  Theia shrugged. “Well… I’m pretty sure we established that before… I guess we know two different stories.”

  “I guess she was lying to you. Or maybe I am… Dun dun dun!”

  Theia didn’t laugh. She was actually irritated, but with Sophie. “Why would she lie to me? She was crying and everything. It… It really sounded like she meant it.”

  A memory uncovered itself in her mind. A long time ago, when her father asked her, “Why do people lie, Theia?”

  “…They don’t wanna get in trouble?”

  He paused. “Because they’re hiding something they don’t want revealed. Everyone’s afraid of the truth, and everyone hides from it in different ways. For some, it’s through lies.”

  Theia collected herself. Rather than fight what Jeremy was telling her, she chose to simply listen and discuss. “So, if some of you guys made it out – from, you know, the building – then, uh… Well… How come you were stuck with just Sophie and your father?”

  “The place was bombed. We were under attack. Everybody that ran away … we ran in every direction. We scattered. I only knew that Charlie, Jude, and Trin made it out because some people said they saw them get out. Me and Sophie, our dad, and a few other people, we ran down Burnside into this neighborhood. That’s where we hid out, until our dad made us leave with him because he didn’t trust our people anymore. He knew, he just knew, somebody ratted us out.”

  “I was on Burnside, too. That was the first place I saw.” Jeremy didn’t reply, so Theia reverted back to a small talk statement. “So, you saw the fighting, huh?”

  He nodded. “Bombs and everything.”

  “I never saw anything. Not when it was happening. I was right outside of downtown when it was happening. I heard a lot, but that’s it.”

  “How come you didn’t see the fighting?”

  “I was… Never mind.” Jeremy looked at her expectedly, making her feel pressured to elaborate. She gave in. “I was kidnapped… My dad was part of the mob and they took me.” She was hoping he wouldn’t ask her to explain that, because even she didn’t know the full story. “I ran away from there… When I got away, though, I was all alone running around. People were trying to hurt me. I went into a store to hide from these guys who were trying to find me. They almost did. I never felt so afraid before. I still get nightmares about that night too. Well, not as many nightmares as things that happened after that, like when…”

  “Nightmares about guys trying to find you in a store?” said Jeremy, smiling.

  Theia scowled. “Yes… Don’t you know what they were trying to do?”

  “Duh. But they didn’t. You got away, so you should be fine.”

  “It was scary, okay?”

  Jeremy laughed. “You think almost getting attacked is scary? How about actually getting attacked?”

  Against her better judgment, Theia spat it out. “Sophie said your father attacked her…”

  Jeremy scowled. For the briefest of moments, Theia was afraid of him. “He never hurt her. Never!”

  “She was crying about it when she told me. What are you doing: defending him or something?”

  He took his plate and flung it at Theia, scraps and all. “THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN, OKAY?” Every adult in their vicinity ran toward them.

  Theia remained calm. Jeremy hadn’t reached over to her side or attempted to attack her, but she was prepared. Jeremy was a foot taller, and more muscularly toned, but the manner in which he threw his plate showed Theia he was sloppy and lacked the discipline to possibly overpower her in a fight. When the adults reached him, they coerced him to leave without touching him. Jeremy angrily obeyed, stomping off out of the sanctuary.

  Dad said something about denial, she thought, cycling the memory of what set off Jeremy. Such a strong emotional reaction, when Theia said something so innocent and so far from hostile, could only mean that Jeremy felt shame, or pain, or guilt, or all the above.

  –––––––

  Theia had slept well that night. Likely too well. She fell asleep the same time as everyone else, but was the last to wake when the adults sounded the alarm. One of the counselors came in to the room and rang a cowbell. Theia had just stood up by the time the other kids were finished taking turns changing in the bathrooms.

  When she saw Mr. Tull, she approached and asked him, “What’s everybody doing?”

  “Getting ready for church,” he answered.

  Indeed, everyone was changing into their Sunday best. Theia became nervous. “But I don’t have a change of clothes,” she said.

  “Yes, you do. Here, I’ll go grab it for you.” When he came back with a blue shirt and formal black pants, he said, “This is what Mercedes left for you. Hurry, the service is about to start.”

  Scowling with disgust, Theia responded, “I’m not wearing that!”

  “What are you going to wear, then?”

  Theia looked at her current outfit – a plain white t-shirt and blue jeans – then shrugged. “This, I guess.”

  “These clothes are nicer,” said Mr. Tull.

  “I’ll just wear this!” she said with a raised voice.

  Leaving him standing there, probably confused, Theia joined the other kids as they lined up at the door to the sanctuary. The last of them were returning from the bathroom through the room’s back-end door. She was stared upon, but she ignored it by not looking at them.

  Theia had never been to a church service that she could recall, except for special occasions involving family or family-friends who hosted an event at a church. Her most prominent memory of it was how utterly dull it was. The stories told, however, were quite fascinating. It seemed to Theia that the stories likely weren’t true, but it didn’t matter whether or not they were true, because they have meaning and lessons attached to them. Why else would they be told?

  Pondering the philosophy behind the stories taught in church brought Theia’s attention back to books in general. Why else is any story told? she thought. She reached an epiphany. Every story has a meaning. For this, she was not dreading the boredom that always, unfailingly, came with attending church. She was excited to hear another story from the Bible.

  Theia was sat in the middle of the pew, between two smelly kids in the second row to the front. Only one person led the service, who she assumed was the preacher of that church before the building was repurposed. When the pastor asked everyone to stand up, she wondered why he seemed to be talking to a large audience. She turned around and saw that he was. An entire congregation. The people who already go to this church? she guessed. First, everyone sang with the piano player for a total of five songs, the pastor preacher, then began his sermon. He started the sermon with a mention of previous sermons, like he was in the middle of a series. Sure enough, he was. He reminded everyone that he was spending half the year talking about violence, and how God uses it, but does not as a first resort. Maybe the preacher chose the topic because of the endless war happening all over the country.

  The war… she thought.

  She thought about Jeremy again. He had seen the fighting. The fighting had nearly killed him. Perhaps that explained his short fuse. It’s hard to be okay after losing a sister and a brother… Her thoughts went back to her now-deceased mother, who she consciously realized she never saw die, nor the corpse afterward. She felt lucky for that. But then, her mind drifted elsewhere, to bodies she had indeed seen…

  The motionless, silent, cold bodies that covered the floor of the house in which she was held hostage. The bodies that covered the streets of Portland… And then, the death she nearly w
itnessed – her father – if she had not ran for help soon enough. One life she saved, but no others. Some she knew, or at least had met. Bad people or not, they were still people. They each had a story and a past. They had hopes, dreams, goals, and aspirations. Then, for reasons she never learned, their lives were cut short. Now, they were silent, their bodies cold, rotting, and devoid of all which made them human.

  “Theia!” people were screaming at her. “Theia, stop!”

  When her mind returned to the here and now, she found herself standing frozen and remembered what had just occurred. A tall boy had been trying to fit into the pew, and once he had passed Theia, she leapt onto his back and proceeded to clobber at his head. He had then thrown her off of him before she cause any severe damage. The other kids in and surrounding the pew cleared. The congregation was hushed, the preacher was in shock, and no one stood within five feet of her.

  Theia couldn’t believe what she did. She felt she had no control over her body, or her mind, like being trapped in a cage while watching herself become exactly like the people who have threatened her. She wasn’t safe, not even with herself.

  Theia ran hard back to her Sunday school room, then slammed the door. Many of the adults ran after her, but she couldn’t allow that, at any cost. She took a nearby chair and pinned it under the knob. Then, she ran to the opposite side of the room, opening the door, which led a small hallway that led to the bathrooms and storage at the far end. Before reaching the bathroom, she found the door to the kitchen, and decided to go there instead. The first and only hiding place she saw or considered was the sink. After clearing some space, but not throwing anything out, or letting anything hang out, she squeezed herself there and closed the door.

  Before long she heard the adults running up and down the hall, coming in and out of the kitchen, but they never found her. One person had opened the sink space, but it was the door opposite the one Theia hid behind; she had held her breath, didn’t move, and was thus never found among the supplies. From what she heard the adults say, none suspected she was hiding, but rather that she had escaped somehow. No one was in the kitchen for long, but she remained under the sink regardless.

  Once it sounded like she was in the clear, she crawled out, then at that moment decided to escape. She selected the one window in the kitchen to as the means. By the time she had opened it and started to crawl through, someone found her, but she was already beyond reach by the time they ran up to her.

  Theia nearly headed for the street, but quickly realized she couldn’t outrun the adults. Turning around, she found a gathering of outside another building on the property, much larger than the church. She chose that direction. About three adults had come out of the church and found her running in that direction.

  When she reached the gathering, she found that it was a group consisting primarily of older kids, seeming to be around sixteen to early twenties. They were playing card games, sports, and some were just talking. When Theia came among them, they all froze in surprise. “Theia?” she heard a familiar voice say. She turned toward the source, and found Jeremy. Then, whatever came over her, it wasn’t pretty.

  She stomped toward Jeremy, and then stood directly before him, saying, “You think you’re tough? Then hit me.”

  “What? I’m not gonna hit you.”

  Theia struck him across the face. “Oh yeah? You’re not? Well, what if I keep hitting you until you hit me?” She hit him a second time, then a third.

  “Stop!” he said, raising an arm to shield himself. But Theia did not stop.

  When the adults from the church were close, still calling out to her, Theia became impatient, and punched Jeremy in the gut as hard as she could. “How about now, huh?”

  “What is wrong with you?” screamed Jeremy.

  Right before Theia could throw another punch, Jeremy blocked it and shoved her. He balanced on his right foot as he leaned forward, swinging a punch of his own. She was fearless – far too consumed with emotions to flinch or freeze – as she redirected his swing away from her, then climbed onto his back and began to choke him with the bend of her elbow. Everyone screamed at her to get off him. She did not want to harm him, but defeat him. Jeremy tried to pry her off, but he was already losing consciousness. When he dropped, Theia let go.

  None other than Mr. Tull came up to her and seized her by the wrist. With anger he told her, “You’re going to isolation!”

  –––––––

  Theia never returned to the church. Instead, she was placed in the building opposite, where the older kids were placed. She was given a room all to herself, with no restraints except a locked door. While being moved there, however, she heard Mr. Tull, as well as the other adults argue about how to inhibit her. One person had even mentioned a straitjacket, and from the sounds of the conversation, they didn’t use one only because they didn’t know where to obtain one.

  Despite being in a different building now, she still had Mr. Tull as a counselor. About an hour after first being placed in that room, he came inside, with an accompanying big guy for a bodyguard. He attempted to communicate with Theia via casual conversation about nonsense like what food she likes to eat and what she wants to be when she grows up. Theia kept quiet as much as she could get away with. She was neither capable nor interested in conversation. She remained in the corner of the room while the poor man tried to befriend her. When he finally segued into the subject of Theia’s crazed assault on the tall boy in the sanctuary, and Jeremy, she turned away and pretended to sleep. From there, she paid the man no attention, and didn’t know when had ultimately left.

  Matters were different when Mercy paid a visit later that day.

  “People are telling me you’ve gone crazy, and you haven’t eaten since you’ve been here. What’s happened to you, Theia?” she asked, nearly crying.

  Theia only shrugged.

  “You’re lucky nobody needed to be sent to the hospital. When they told me what you did, I… I couldn’t believe that was you. Will you tell me what happened? Why you’re hurting people now?”

  “People hurt each other… It’s normal.”

  Mercy scooted closer, now less than a foot away. “Not for you, it isn’t.” She put a hand on Theia’s back. “Tell me, honey. What’s wrong?”

  Theia leaned her head back, but still didn’t look away from the corner. “I don’t know, Mom, okay? I didn’t even know I beat up the tall kid until after I did it.”

  “Okay…” replied Mercy with concern, but patience too. “What about the other kid?”

  “Jeremy? I thought he wanted to hurt me, so I gave him a chance.”

  “Now why would he want to hurt you?”

  “He already tried. I said something about his dad … doing things … to his sister. I met his sister down in Woodburn or wherever, and she told me that happened.”

  Mercy rubbed her shoulder. “Theia, whether something is true or not, that doesn’t mean it needs to be said. And … if someone tries to hurt you, that’s no reason to come back and let them try again. You’re smarter than this, Theia.”

  “People are always trying to hurt me; trying to hurt each other. Even if they’re not punching you in the face, or shooting you, or blowing you up, they hurt you in other ways, like leaving you and never coming back, and making you believe they’re coming back.”

  Mercy fell silent. She reached down and held Theia’s hand, then tugged on it to have Theia face her. When Theia looked at her, she leaned in and gave a loving embrace. “Yes,” she said softly, “there’s a million ways people hurt each other, but there’s also a million ways people love each other. Sometimes, the two are one and the same. You’ll understand when you’re older…

  “When I was with your dad, following him around downtown while he was looking for you, I saw him beat up a lot of people. Kill a lot of people, too… He never hurt me, though. Then, after we found you, you told me that he never hurt you either. Does that make him a bad person or a good person?”

  Theia shrug
ged. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, he’s both. Just like you, and me, and your mother, and everybody else in the world. It’s not like in the movies and comic books and Saturday morning cartoons, where there’s good people and evil people. Everybody is a combination of both. When I was with your father in downtown, I chose to be a pacifist. I chose not to hurt anybody, ever, for any reason. One time, I did, though, and I regret that.”

  Theia looked directly into Mercy’s eyes with shock. “You did? How?”

  “I was being forced to have sex with people. That was the business this guy named Isaac ran. The troops were about to rescue all of us, but I was being attacked. By a friend, actually. One of the guards got in my way and I stabbed him in the eye. I was … crazy. I was consumed with too many emotions: Panic, fear, grief… I wouldn’t have done that if I was thinking straight at the time. If that guard wasn’t there blocking my path to safety, I wouldn’t have even needed to hurt him. I regret it, but I don’t think I’m evil for doing it. I don’t think that man was evil for trying to stop me. I think… We all do the best we can, and it’s always less than perfect.”

  Theia pondered that for a moment. She then looked up at Mercy and asked, “What makes a person bad?”

  “In my view… I think a person becomes bad when they stop feeling remorse for their wrongs. When they don’t try to hold back from hurting people anymore.”

  Theia’s eyes sank. “I still care.”

  Mercy embraced her again. “I know, honey.” When Mercy let go, she stood up. “You can’t give up, Theia. Good people seem to be in short supply these days. I think the world needs you.”

  Theia smiled. “Thank you, Mom. I try to be good.”

  –––––––

  Two days passed, and though Theia was not completely recovered emotionally, she was eating again. Occasionally, Mr. Tull and other adults stopped by to assess her state of mind. It seemed to them that she had greatly improved since her visit with Mercy, and from the sounds of it, Mercy had spoken with the people in charge and assured them, somehow, that Theia would not have another outburst. It must have worked, because two days later, Theia received another visit, this time from someone completely unexpected.