Chapter Text
Situated on the British coast lies a small town called Lyme Regis, home to almost 3,000 people. Its hilly terrain makes for a beautiful sight, but the best sight is the ocean.
Especially for Ralph, who lived on the outskirts of the town.
The house, whose window Ralph peered out of, was dressed in a robin egg blue, with windows erupting from the roofwork, providing lighting for the attic, which could also be called Ralph's room. His room was furnished, with white walls, a small bed, which was directly from his window, a writing desk, and to the left, between the two, a bookcase, providing Ralph with entertainment.
Leaving Ralph's room led to steep steps, made of dark oak wood, which matched the flooring in his room. Over it lay a carpet, held in place by silver intricate stairrods. The carpet, which was old and worn, had, in its best days, been a beautiful blue, but now was grayed and frayed. The stairs led to a banister, overlooking more stairs which led to the first floor of the house. To the left of the banister, excluding the stairs, was the hall which contained Ralph's parents' room, and his father's study. The inside of his father's study was a mystery, for neither his mother nor he had ever been allowed inside.
On the first floor, the stairs were creaky, and where the house had been closed on the second floor, the first floor was spacious. The flooring was worn from walking and salt from the sea, bleaching the wood and ruining the finish. Underweight, the wood creaked, a consequence of the moisture during the summers, which caused the boards to stretch. The kitchen was connected to the dining room, only being separated by the kitchen tiles, which cut off and turned into the wood that spread throughout the rest of the house.
This is where our story takes place.
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Leviticus 18:22
"Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination."
“Damn teenagers,” a door slammed from the first floor, vibrating through the entire house and startling Ralph from where he sat at his desk, reading a copy of the King James Version. Ralph jumped and set his pencil down. He had been underlining its important parts.
“Ralph. Come down here now!” He heard his father yell. Ralph sighed but made his way down the stairs. His mother was holding a towel, clutching it as she stood confused. Ralph slowed, looking to his mother and then to his father. His father wore a black suit with his leather suitcase in hand.
“Good evening, father.”
“I have a job for you.” His father spoke angrily. “Our church has been defaced, and since you seem to be doing nothing to benefit society, I expect you to clean the mess.”
“Father, I was-“
“Do not fight against my words. What I've said is final. Get a pail and a washcloth and go. I want you to see the sin so you can understand that your peers are sinners.”
The house was quiet until Ralph reluctantly nodded. He slipped on his shoes and headed outside once his mother gave him a washcloth. He went to the side of the house and grabbed a pail, which had rusted against the harsh salt air over time. He walked to the church, taking him 20 minutes or so. He hadn't thought it was fair. They had a car, but no, here he was, walking in the sun and sweating through his shirt. When the church was in view, his stomach dropped. Smeared on the two front doors was some sort of green paint.
Suck my fat one, allebach!
Read the vandalism. It was known that the teenagers in Lyme Regis were rebellious, and this hadn't been the first time the church had been defaced, but his father took it personally every time. He would talk about this for months. The teens were always caught, but would only be given a stern talking to or a few switches on the palm. It just made them resent the church more. Ralph wondered if they could be saved from their ways. He filled the pail with the hose, which was attached to the back of the church, and went to the doors. He soaked the washcloth and rang it out. The paint smeared as he tried to clean it, running green streaks down the peeling white lead paint. It would be sundown before he would be finished cleaning all the paint off.
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It was Sunday, the first Sunday of the summer, and the first Sunday of attending church and sabbath while not having to worry about school the next day.
Like always, Ralph dressed his best. His father would have him by the neck if he didn't. He slicked back his hair, and instead of his usual casual jeans and button-up, he wore a white shortsleaved that rose halfway up his neck, tucked under his tan trousers, and to top it all off, covered by a jacket, which was orange in color. In his room, looking at himself through his full-length mirror, he could see the sweat beading on his head. He knew he’d probably ditch the jacket eventually, but he needed to look good for his father. He collected his bible and loafers. Heading downstairs, he watched the white curtains swish in the wind since the windows were open. The wind cooled his head.
“Good morning, Ralph, would you like an orange?” Ralph’s mother asked. She wore a plaid dress that fell below her knees and covered her chest. She had always been a modest woman. Her hair curved on the sides, resembling the newest fashion of the time.
Ralph nodded, and his mother tossed him one. “You look very put together, you're becoming a true young man.” She smiled. Ralph smiled too.
A few minutes later, Ralph's father came down the stairs, rambling about how they were going to be late and that there was no time for silly fruit. The small family made their way to their car, a sleek autin morris 1100 that was red in color. The car was stuffy, and Ralph was aware of himself. He fumbled with his thumbs in the back. The choir would be at the church today.
The church came into view, and the older man stopped the car. Everyone got out and hastily made their way to the doors, which still seemed the slightest green. Once inside, his father made himself busy with getting today's readings ready. His mother helped get out the wine and thin crisps. Ralph always felt out of place. He wasn't sure what to do, so he'd usually just sit in a pew and read. Within the next 10 minutes, the choir filled in, taking the place. The boys were his age, all his own classmates, thought ralph wasnt sure he could name all of them. There was Simon, a batty person, sure, but still Ralph's friend, and there was Jack. Ralph had nothing much to say about him, except that he was frustrating and he was sure the lord had a plan for him in store.
“Ralph!” Simon said, walking ever between pews. Ralph looked up and shut his bible.
“Simon!” He was excited to see a friend. It was the first time he'd seen him since the beginning of summer. Ralph looked over the other choir boys, who stood slumped and looking annoyed. They had a superior complex about them. “What's got them so slouched?”
“We've been practising since Wednesday pretty hard,” Simon said, shrugging. He leaned back on the pew seat. “How have you been?”
“I've been quite well. I had to clean off more vandalism the other day. It was SamnEric who did it, I heard. They got in massive trouble with their parents.” Ralph laughed, and Simon did too. “How are you?”
“I'm well. Batty just as usual.” Simon sighed. Ralph rolled his eyes. Simon gasped. “I forgot to tell you, haven't I?”
“Told me what?”Ralph asked, tilting his head. Simon hesitated before slipping closer to Ralph and whispering.
“Jack's father is in the hospital, and his mother is threatening to leave them to go live with her family in Canada. Can you believe it? I feel horrible for him.” Simon leaned away and looked at the choir, probably at their subject. Ralph did the same. Jack didn't look sad. He looked like he normally did: angry and like he was above everyone else.
“I suppose it is horrible. If anything happens, what will he do?”
“That's what everyone seems to be asking.”
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The choir sang beautifully. He had always liked it. What was there not to like? They sounded like angels, despite the fact that some didn't act like angels.
After they were done, everyone joined in prayer:
"Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed."
Then, everyone joined for communion. Ralph believed it was his favorite part. To drink the wine. He had liked the taste of it. Being 17, he only had a few more years before he could drink it at his own will, maybe every night, while he read a book, or maybe with his wife while they danced to-
“Ralph,” his father said, snapping him out of his daydream. He stepped forward, sipped the wine, and took a crisp back to his seat at the pew. Others began to socialize, but his mind kept slipping back to Jack. Should he say something? Keep them in his prayers? Most definitely, he would. He looked around for Jack, standing up and eventually wandering out of the church, where people also spilled out. It didn't take Ralph long to finally find Jack. He was leaning against the side of the church, alone. Ralph frowned. Jack was probably dirtying his choir cloak. “Jack,” Ralph said, walking up.
“Yes, Ralph? Here to tell me about how I'm sinning?” He said, a slight mention of when they were 10, and Jack swore. Ralph had tattled to his father, and Jack was given a switch on his palm.
“No,” Ralph said, pink flushing his face. The memory still embarrassed him. He stood a good distance away from Jack, but still close enough that nobody else would hear. “I just wanted to say that I've heard what's going on, and I wanted you to know that you and your family will be in my prayers, and I hope you will be able to prevail over these hard times.” When Ralph finally looked over at Jack, Jack looked outraged.
“I dont know who you think you are, Ralph, but you have no right poking into my family business. If I wanted to be in your prayers, I would have gone to your father.” Jack sounded as if he were trying to stay calm, but he would burst at any moment.
“I just meant-“
“I dont care what you meant.” Jack pushed off the wall and began to walk away. Ralph let him, and suddenly, he felt embarrassed.
The rest of the day was filled with reading. That's what ralph had liked to do in his free time.
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The storm outside surged on. Ralph lay in his room, huddled under his blankets. He tried to sleep, but with every lightning strike, his room lit up. He could never sleep during storms. He decided to get up and sit at his desk. Maybe he could write. But alas, being too tired, he ended up staring outside, noticing the puddles of rainwater that collected in the gravel driveway that surrounded his house. While staring, suddenly the puddles were covered by something driving down the driveway. It was a black car, driving almost erratically. Ralph blinked and leaned forward more towards the window. The car stopped abruptly, and a woman got out. Ralph only knew because of the heels the woman wore. Once she got out, she walked almost angrily to the other side and tore the door open. She grabbed someone out of the other side and gripped them, dragging the person to-
Ralph couldn't see anymore. He tried to shift, but unless he wanted to open his window and risk getting himself and everyone on his desk wet, he wouldn't be able to see. His heart was beating. Who was it? And why were they here at 2:00 AM?
Suddenly, he heard banging come from the front door downstairs; he assumed. He descended his stairs and looked over the banister. His father left his room and eyed Ralph. “Go back to sleep. There is no reason for you to be up right now.” Raloh frowned.
“Yes, father.” Begrudgingly, he went back up his stairs, but then smiled when he realized he could just put his ear up to the vent on his floor. In doing so, he could hear the conversation coming from the first floor.
“He’s died, and I cannot take care of him!”
“Mrs. Merridew, please, take a breath and come inside, you too, Jack.”
He heard footsteps.
“What is the issue, Mrs Merridew?”
“I cannot take care of this boy! I must go to my family, and I cannot take him with me. He is the devil!”
“Mother-“
“Silence!” Ralph heard a slap and a gasp. It was silent for a minute or so. Ralph wished he could actually see what was happening.
“I will not keep him. You must save his soul.”
“I'll take him in. Under the conditions that you pay support every month.”
Ralph's eyes widened, and he moved his ear closer.
“How much?”
“20 dollars”
“Are you serious?! Mother-“
“I am not your mother! You are the devil's son!” Mrs Meridew began to scream. Ralph ripped his ear away from her screeching. He didn't have to put his ear up to hear it anymore.
“Go upstairs, Jack.” He heard his father say, and following, he heard running up the stairs to the second floor. Ralph backed away from the vent and looked at his door. He swallowed and stood, walking over to it and opening it. He went down the stairs and finally faced Jack. The boy had a mark on his face, and tears welled in his eyes, which he tried to blink away.
“Jack?” Raloh found himself whispering. Jack looked over and blinked his eyes, but didn't say anything. He probably knew there was nothing snarky to say now. “I'll get you a towel and clean clothes.”
Ralph walked past his sopping wet peer and opened the hallway closet. He collected a fresh towel that smelled like lavender and handed it to Jack. “Follow me.” Jack still said nothing.
Ralph led him to Ralph's room and turned on his light. He cringed, not realizing it would be so bright. He tiptoed to his wardrobe and dug for a pair of trousers and a shirt. Once he found a good pair of both, he handed them to Jack, turning around while he changed. “You can sleep in my bed tonight.” Ralph heard Jack whisper a thank you.
Turning the light back off, Ralph collected blankets and layered them on the floor. That would be his bed for the night- or what remained of it. Jack had already lain down, but Ralph knew he wasn't sleeping. When Ralph lay down, he heard his father peek his head inside before silently shutting the door. Ralph pretended he had been asleep, but neither boy got a lot of sleep that night.