Chapter Text
So hey guys, I'm doing NaNo again. See if you can tell from the chapter!
Adalia's comments on appropriateness are not especially accurate. If you're not paying attention at the time, it's amazing how scattered your recollection can be.
Good Faith
Sixteen Months Ago:
Two of the boys were snickering at the desk across the aisle. She glanced over. "What is it?"
The taller of the two grinned at her. "Didja hear about the new church thing the U - the GC's planning?"
"The multiple religions thing?"
"Multi-faith, you might say," he said. "In fact, they're going to get called that. Multi-faith churches. God, I wish I knew who managed that."
"Managed what?"
"The name. Multi-faith churches, MF churches for short. Get it?"
"Ha ha," Adalia said flatly after a second. "Doesn't your pastor say swearing's wrong?"
"Well, it's not like we're saying anything. Or even that they're saying anything."
"About their MFing churches," the other boy said, sniggering.
Adalia rolled her eyes.
Seventeen Months Ago:
"Ye-eah," crooned a voice. There was a silent beat.
"I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah," a woman's voice chanted. "I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah."
"He's coming," said another voice, just on the edge of hearing.
"I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah."
"The king is coming." The voice was louder.
"I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah."
"He's preparing his church!" shouted a man's voice.
The woman's voice was gathering speed. "I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah."
"He strikes the nations!"
"I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of the tribe of Judah." Suddenly the tone shifted, turned into something closer to real lyrics: "And he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song. Because he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song. Because he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song. Because he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song."
Her voice rose. "He's not a baby in a manger anymore. He's not a broken man on a cross. He didn't stay in the grave and he's not staying in heaven forever. He's not a baby in a manger anymore. He's not a broken man on a cross. He didn't stay in the grave and he's not staying in heaven forever.
"Cause he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive -
"People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming," she chanted. Her voice slowed and deepened. "I can hear the rhythm of the lion of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion of Judah. I can hear the rhythm of the lion -" Her voice picked up sharply. "Oh, he's said, he said, I was silent, like a lamb I was silent, but in my silence you thought that I was altogether like you. And I was silent like a lamb, silent like a lamb, and I've been praying, for two thousand years, I've been asking my father for the nations for two thousand years, I've been making intercession, I've been pleading and praying and praying -
"And in my silence you said no he's dead, he's gone, he's not there." And there was a second of silence. Then the singer's voice returned, starting at a whisper:" But know this first, in the latter days, in the latter days, in the latter days, scoffers will come." Another beat. The voice picked up. "Cause I'm about to sha-are - People get ready, Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. And he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song. Because he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song. Because he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song. Because he's doing a new thing. So we're singing a new song: He's not a baby in a manger anymore. He's not a broken man on a cross. He didn't stay in the grave and he's not staying in heaven forever. He's not a baby in a manger anymore. He's not a broken man on a cross. He didn't stay in the grave and he's not staying in heaven forever. Cause he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive, he's alive -
"Yeah. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming." The rhythm changed again. "There are - People walking round with their fingers in their ears, singing daladadadum, I don't want to hear the sound, of the coming king. And there are people walking round with their fingers in their ears, singing daladadadum, I don't want to hear the sound, of the coming king. Oh." The song sped up again. "Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready for this? Are you ready are you ready?Are you ready are you ready?" It slowed slightly, became more forceful again. "People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. People get ready. Jesus is coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming. He's coming .He's coming. Are you ready are you ready are you ready oh god," the singer wailed, "Come make us ready come make us ready come make us ready come make us ready come make us ready come make us ready."
Adalia's shoulders shook. She had covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed with a sense of misery and horror.
"Are you okay? Adalia?" Noah asked.
When she looked up through tears to see the concerned faces, she found herself surprised to find them whole, free of blood and mutilation, with looks of worry rather than agony. "I'm sorry. It must have reminded me of something." She smiled sheepishly, and wiped at her face. The feeling was gone, leaving only a lingering anticipatory anxiety, like she was certain that, eventually, something terrible would jump out at her.
A few days later, Noah said, "They say you get upset because you've got the devil in you." But next Sunday, when the service ended and they went downstairs for coffee and snacks, Maryanne had started to sob uncontrollably at the sight of a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
"My daughter," she had babbled through tears, "My daughter I loved her I love her I had to I had to," but she didn't have any children, and when they could get her to calm down she couldn't explain. It was like she'd woken from a dream, and the details fell away but she still had the transcendent force of the feelings left behind.
And in the whispered speculation of if the woman had an abortion or had given up her baby, Adalia was quite forgotten.
-
"Um..." Micky tugged at Adalia's sleeve a the library doors slid open. "Where's the children's section?" he whispered, looking anxious and timid.
"It's downstairs. But aren't you about thirteen?"
"Almost."
"Almost is good enough. Why don't you come with us to the young adult section? They have manga."
"Manga?"
"And comics."
He looked torn. "Maybe the next time," he said finally.
"Suit yourself." She pointed at the far stair. "The door's right at the bottom. I'll be over there -" She pointed across the room. "- by the manga if you need me, otherwise I'll come get you when it's time to go, okay?"
He nodded and started off for the stairs, while she led the rest of the kids to the comics section. She glanced back as they settled in and saw Micky at the top of the stairs, rail clutched tightly as he took slow, deliberate steps down.
The rest of the group had descended on the wall of comics like a horde of unusually careful locust, trying to paw through the layered mass of trades while treating each one as if it were made of tissue paper.
One girl managed to extract a collection with Teen Titans written boldly across the top and a cover far too busy to make out anything more. She settled down on the floor and began to carefully turn pages. Her expression became perplexed.
Adalia knelt down on the floor to get to the manga, the smaller, chubbier volumes neatly lined up on the bottom shelf.
"But why's Starfire an adult?" the girl complained. "When did her planet blow up? Why's she wearing that?"
"The comics don't have much in common with the show," Adalia said, looking back to her. The girl looked disappointed, and Adalia glanced over the comics wall. She almost grabbed the first Fables collection, then remembered Prince Charming, hesitated, and snagged the first Planetary instead, which she couldn't remember having any sex in. "Here, try this one." It was hard to know what was appropriate. She'd have let Noah read it, but with someone else's kid she wasn't so sure.
Another girl was still standing there, looking overwhelmed. Adalia offered her a Wonder Woman book.
"What's it about?" the girl asked.
"She fights a gorgon."
"A what?"
"Medusa."
"Oh." From her expression this hadn't cleared things up, but she started reading.
The rest of them had found things on their own. Adalia's eyes flicked across the titles and she was just in time to yank Empire out of one boy's hands as he started to open it up.
"Don't read this."
"What? Why?"
"It's not appropriate for you. Anyone. Sorry, but you really don't want to see the first page."
"But...but then if you've read it..."
"She's an adult, duh."
Adalia shook her head. "I wish I hadn't read it. The first page has people being tortured to death, torn apart. And the rest of it, it gets worse than that." The children were staring at her with perfect attention, and she shut up and put the comic book on top of the shelves and out of their reach.
"M- Mom said libraries were full of immorality," said one of the girls, looking more awed by the confirmation than anything.
Adalia sighed. She really hadn't intended it like this. "Libraries have everything, that's all. It's not such a big deal with books. Comics are newer and everyone's still working things out with them."
The children were looking at the comics with new apprehension. "Are there others like that?"
She shook her head. "I've never run into another one like that. Look, if you look at the cover, a lot of them have an age rating. If it says eighteen and up or has a big M on it, you might want to avoid it or ask me or something."
"Mine says thirteen and up. I'm not thirteen, I'm twelve."
"That's fine, ratings are kind of inflated sometimes," Adalia said. "Anyway, remember that we have to get back in an hour, and don't get more than a handful of books each."
Eighteen Months Ago:
The children had new names.
They were born again, Matthews had said. It was the start of a new life. They should dedicate themselves to God with a biblical name.
Adalia had begged off. Noah was already biblical, she'd said, and Matthews had accepted that and said nothing more.
Mostly, the other kids had gone along with it. One girl, though, had not been in the mood to do anything. Her face was flushed and irritable. "My mom said I don't have to do anything you say if I don't want to!" she'd shouted at him suddenly. "My mom said - my mom -" Her voice rises to an unintelligible wail of misery, and she's hustled away by one of the other women.
Noah said she'd ended up picking Ruth, which the pastor hadn't been pleased with, maybe because it was close to her old name, Rebecca. "She said it wasn't that, it was their favorite bible story. So it's okay because she didn't mean to be challenging him that time."
"She wasn't challenging Matthews at all," Adalia corrected. "People just get upset sometimes, and they need to be left alone to calm down. You do," she added pointedly.
"I don't!"
"Everybody does, Noah, now and then. It's normal. Little kids do it constantly, adults get better at keeping themselves under control. When you get older, you learn to realize when you should disengage and cool off, and other people learn to let you. It's an easy mistake to make with a bunch of kids, because you probably aren't paying attention to all of them, and often they can't just walk off and calm down. But it's not any kid's fault. Especially right now, I mean..." She trailed off, because it was hard to speak of any one person's loss without being reminded of their own. She spent a lot of time not thinking about it. "And some people deal with things in different ways. Some people get sad, and some people get angry."
Noah mulled over this. "But she said she didn't have to obey Matthews, because her mo-mother said so."
"Well, you don't have to obey the pastor either," Adalia said.
"Adalia!"
"Oh, come on, Noah. It's not like the poor girl's mother was talking about Matthews in particular. Mom told you the same thing, that you don't have to do what any adult tells you just because they're an adult. She only said Matthews because he'd been the one there when she got upset telling her to do something."
Adalia thought that was the end of it. A few days later, when she came to pick up Noah from Children's Bible Study, the girl was outside the room by the door. The woman standing over her slapped her, the sound ringing down the corridor. "I don't want to ever hear you talk about what your mother said," she hissed furiously. "Your mother's dead and if you don't behave you'll go to hell too. Is that what you want?"
The girl was shaking her head back and forth frantically, crying.
She wasn't Adalia's daughter. Adalia didn't have any authority over her. And standing there, Adalia thought, she wasn't the woman's daughter either. Her mother was dead. She wasn't anyone's daughter.
"Good." The woman grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down the corridor, past where Adalia stood and up the stairs.