The Church in the Wildwood by Alanna Rusnak

Author:Alanna Rusnak
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction & Literature
Publisher: Indie Author Project
Published: 2018-05-02T00:00:00+00:00

Saturday, October 12, 1968

SAMUEL STOOD AT THE BACK of the sanctuary, his hands gripping the scrolled lip of the pew as his eyes wandered over the stained-glass shepherd standing watch over the building. There was no true silence there, though he often found himself alone within the church. The sound of branches scraping the roof or the groan of the old wooden beams reminded him he was never completely on his own.

“How did you do it?” he asked the shepherd, whose sad eyes didn’t move. “Women threw themselves at your feet. They kissed you and rubbed their hair against you. How did you do it? How did you resist?”

The window gleamed in the sunlight and the lamb remained nestled against the chest of the man who claimed to be as human as he was God.

“Perhaps there are fights you can’t understand,” he challenged the empty church. He read the words framed across the bottom of the glass picture, “Though I walk through the valley, you are with me always. Then be with me,” he prayed. “Make me strong.”

He turned and left through the front doors, climbed into his car and made the short trip out to the Carver land.

He had to end things with Iris. He knew he couldn’t continue. More time in her presence would cause him to fall away from the values and truths he had cherished his whole life.

For a few moments he felt strong.

Until she opened the door.

She stood before him, bare feet and wild hair, with tender eyes that made him think maybe—just maybe—she could truly love him. Conflicting needs tore at him. His love for the church was powerful. But his desire for this beautiful woman made that all seem distant and irrelevant. The idea of walking away from her ripped at his heart.

She studied him quietly, her face soft, lit gently with light from the porch lamp beside the door.

His jaw clenched and unclenched. There was a battle for his soul and he already knew which side would win. He was weak. But being in her presence filled him with a strength he couldn’t quite define.

“Samuel?” she finally said, her voice gentle with concern, cutting through his conflict and pushing back his hesitation.

He crumpled at her feet, wetting them with tears he didn’t even know were falling until he felt the dampness on her skin. She remained silent, her hand lost in his hair as he wept and kissed her feet.

Iris waited patiently until he settled and wiped his eyes. She knelt down so she could see his face. “Remember Jesus and the prostitute and how she wept at his feet?” She brushed hair from his forehead and touched his wet cheek.

Samuel nodded but couldn’t yet form words.

“Perhaps I am your salvation.”

If it had come from anyone else he would have thought he was being mocked, but she said it with such innocence; he could do nothing but pull her into his arms and bury his face in her neck.

“I came here to say I couldn’t see you anymore,” he mumbled against her throat.

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