Devout Boil Over

Standing tall at his communion, his folk’s heart’s swell with pride; completion through the institution ensures their eternal spot by God’s side. Rigorously conditioned he was free from his own decisions, his wants and ambitions all squelched by his need to abide. His priest says, “This world’s a complete disgrace, people’s hearts are in the wrong place, but all this could be overcome with prayer and faith.” He remembers the few times he lost his way; he strayed from the beaten path, but when he inclined to disobey, he swiftly felt his parent’s devout wrath. Standing in front of the mirror he’s not sure what he sees, his actual physique is totally masks by how small he thinks himself to be. His reasoning and sensibility, his feelings and spirituality, has all been washed clean from his mind religiously. His every thought enforced to be moral, his mentality is loyal, not a single lesson deplorable since his birth. Their power and authority stands before him like towers, and in their dark shadows he shakes and cowers. And at 18 he set out into the world as the meek to inherit the earth.

Now at work he doesn’t seem to mind to finish off the clock so he won’t get into overtime; he finds it impossible to cross any proverbial line. He’s respectful to his superiors in every sense and always laughs at all the jokes at his expense; always on the band wagon, never on the fence. At home in his simple personal life, he does all he can to please his materialistic wife, but living paycheck to paycheck causes her too much strife. He’s sure his hard work will pay off some day, but she just doesn’t feel the same way. Even with the baby on the way she feels that she can no longer stay. Everyone was sure he would lose it when he was called into his boss’s office and found his recently divorced wife. The subject for discussion wasn’t business; it was about her new changing life. She’s had feelings for him ever since they met at that Christmas party back in 05. He didn’t show that he felt betrayal or disgrace, he didn’t even take the smile off his face, and he congratulated them with his un-folding amazing grace. And as for the baby, he just dealt with the separation with his forgiving acceptance; he had no grounds for a custody battle to commence. It didn’t really matter, since he found out the child wasn’t his.

In the mornings when he walks to his cubicle he overhears snickers and short sided jokes. His co-workers give him smiling insincere greetings that just feel like prods and pokes. Every now and then he phones home to get some loving sympathy; his folk’s remind of all the things he should have done to save his sacred unity, they say, “This is not the life we’ve raised you to lead.” His only office friend, an older woman named Marcy always asks with concern, “How is your day?” He just gives a quick half smiled glance, and quickly turns away. He knows to her his pain is clearly transparent, so there really isn’t much to say.

On a warm spring Monday morning he found his ex wife serving all the jokers chocolate cake. With a grin they tell him not everyone can celebrate the boss’s birthday at once; he’d have to wait for the celebration until his break. Someone’s got to put themselves aside for the business’s sake. His day was tedious and hectic covering all the work from the missing flock. When it finally came time for his break, he thought he’d sit down and enjoy his chocolate cake, but all he found was an empty box. He just sat there for a moment, but then for the first time allowed himself to show dismay. He started shaking nervously as if he was going into shock. He threw himself out of his chair violently and headed out the main entrance way. Just when he was about to leave someone had something smart to say. Then he reached both hands in both pockets and with one pulled out his key, and broke it off in the lock.

When the detective asked Marcy for her statement, her quivering lips could hardly make a sound. The blanket the cops gave her didn’t do a thing for the coldness she felt all around. She never had to search so intently for the proper words to be found. She said, “What happened was an inevitable disorder; a devout boil over. A lifetime of suppression finally broke free from his shoulders. His mind was an intense hot simmering mess concealed within; tucked away and hid. The rolling heat of his tension anger and distress built up so much pressure it over powered his lid. It was the buildup of his past that caused this duress; it was the timidness of his lifetime that caused such a gentle man to what he did.” Inside amongst all the carnage the only lifeless body not lying on the ground was his hanging from the balcony, and under his feet a letter addressed to his parents was found. It read, “I never deserved your blessings, I don’t deserve your praise, once again my evil thoughts manifested in to evil ways; I don’t deserve to be graced with another God given day. I’ll never see the kingdom; I don’t deserve to be seated next to the throne. I’m off to hell and I’m sure I created this on my own”