The First Age

Jensen's heart beat sad for Pyotr. Effectively, the man proclaimed he didn't see the need to commune with the Lord on a regular basis. But Jensen said nothing. It was his first time in church in over four years. He couldn't say a word.

But Pyotr's subsequent question curled the black of death through his chest. His eyelids slid low beneath the heavy lines of a grimace. Instantly, he was standing in that alley, furious and terrified.

He steadied himself with a long breath. The air in the diner was stifling, but the heat inside was a furnace by comparison. It was a relief to let it out lest it consume from within.

"Like I said, I didn't think it was a gift at first."
The long, Texan drawl grew quiet.

He pulled his wallet from a pocket and ran a brief search. Moments later, he slid it across the way for Pyotr to read.

It was a short news article. Jensen's picture was positioned at the top. In it, he was smiling at something off-camera. His hair was slicked back and dark against his scalp. He wore a pristine black jacket and a white-button down, no tie, and open at the collar. The headline explained the rest.

"That's when I found out about it."
He forced himself to watch the light of recognition illuminate Pyotr's face. Meanwhile, the memory of Tomas' sweet smile filled his mind. Never in a hundred years would Jensen have believed the man was planning to blackmail him. Then again, never would Jensen think himself capable of leaving a dead body behind in the street.

He paused in case Pyotr had another question, or perhaps might leave the table altogether."What about you? How'd you find out about it?"

Pyotr took the Wallet from Jensen and read the article. Pyotr was shocked, not because of the content, but more from the fact that he had shared the information with Pyotr. Pyotr had no idea what Jensen expected him to think, but Pytor's admiration for the man rose. Pyotr could have found the information easily enough on his own, but had no intentions to do so. The man's past was his own to reveal when he willed it. And he had chosen to reveal it to Pyotr - who just a few hours ago was a complete stranger.

Pyotr handed the man's wallet back and sat silently for a minute, considering his words carefully. He wouldn't judge the man for a past that Jensen would find shameful.

Jensen had given him the tools to understand him better. He had been a televangelist and due to scandal had been "defrocked" so to speak, and forced to live in exile avoiding those he once led and constantly fearing their judgement. Pyotr didn't about all of that - what did it matter if he found men or women attractive. He had wondered about that himself at times. And the man's past was exactly that - his past.

"First of all, I'm honored that you trusted me with this. It takes a lot of courage to do something like that. Secondly, I don't care if you're straight, gay, bi, questioning, or what not. You are who you are - and a good man - and that's all that matters."


Pyotr paused. "As for the rest - well. How does it go -'Judge, lest ye be judge,' 'All have sinned and fallen short of the Glory of God,' 'that if you confess with your mouth Jesus is Lord, and believe in your heart God raised him from the dead, you shall be saved.' What's in your past is in your past. It doesn't take from my opinion of you."


Pyotr gave Jensen an encouraging smile as the man asked him how he had come to channel.

"Well, I'm kind of a klutz and also a waiter....I tripped over my feet and spilled water on myself. When I got to the locker room to clean up. All the water was draining from my clothing. That was the first time I used it."


Pyotr sighed. He liked Jensen. Jensen was probably one of the few people who had treated him with real kindness.

"Listen, I don't have a lot of friends. Most make me the butt of the joke rather than actually getting to know me. I'd like to keep in touch. It's obvious you think I should be in church again."
Pyotr chuckled slightly. "I also imagine you haven't been there in quite some time, so I'll make you a deal. I'll go to church every Sunday starting now if you come with me. It doesn't have to be Mass, but we can do that if you're worried about being judged. How does that sound?"



Edited by Pyotr Grigory, Aug 28 2014, 11:51 PM.

Not for the first time did Jensen wonder if those he'd met were easy on him because the affair was with another man. As though perhaps he was unwilling to control himself. It was natural, they said. They would not have been so quick to forgive if the affair was more typical. If he'd cheated on Jessika with another woman, it'd make him a bastard and an adulterer. Having given in to what he'd he'd given into, perhaps someday he could forgive himself, but betraying the fidelity he'd vowed to his best friend, he could never move past.

Pyotr was uncommonly kind. There was a gentle, quiet way to the man that Jensen found comforting. He could not understand why Pyotr was short on friends or people that trusted him, but Jensen was glad to be counted among them.

"That sounds like a great deal, Pyotr. I'd like to go back to Mass with you."
He smiled, reassuring of their promise, and happily finished his cup of coffee.

Pyotr smiled at the exchange, glad that Jensen at least seemed in a better mood. Pyotr finished his own coffee before asking for the check. Having paid, Pyotr turned to Jensen once more. He wanted to get home before he got sick.

"I better get going, but I'm glad we got to meet. Here's my contact information."
Pyotr readied his Wallet to transfer his contact information. "Call me anytime - and see you next Sunday"


Pyotr offered his hand to Jensen. The day had been pleasant, but the night would be spent in a less ideal way.