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Stealing God

Free online fiction by Alex Draven

"You can't do that!"   Paul hissed desperately. His hand was tight around Cameron's wrist, pressing pale against the tendons, but the older boy didn't drop his arm. He smiled.  He smiled so wide that it stretched his words, rich with something Paul wasn't so sure he wanted to be able to recognise. .

"Oh Paul, I can. You think … tell me. Why not?"   Cameron's chin tipped up to mark the question; a challenge, like they were in a boxing ring, not hiding in the wide open dark of the church.

"Because … Because it's Holy! It isn't right. You're stealing the blood of Christ."

"Drink of my blood, which is given unto you." Cameron rolled the words into the shadows cast by the guttering memorial candles. "Can't hardly be stealing what's been given, or are you doubting the words of the Christ now?"    


Paul's fingers were starting to cramp and tremble, with only desperation to hold the tableaux in place. He'd followed Cameron without question, careful not to be seen sneaking from their meeting place at the end of his garden, across the school playground, and over the lane into the churchyard. He'd held his tongue when Cam had produced a screwdriver and jimmied the ancient iron bolt using cheap steel with a plastic handle. He'd even, God save him, enjoyed it: the cool night air, and knowing Cameron trusted him enough to bring him along, even if his heart was racing with the daring of it. He'd followed, and he'd tasted guilty pleasure for a second, but not for this. Not to watch Cam steal God and poison his mouth with the warm bitter taste of Sunday Mass, and things that couldn't be forgiven. 

He tightened his grip, digging his nails in, and Cameron twisted his wrist, mouth screwed up like it hurt. Cameron's breathing hitched, and Paul realised he was holding his breath only when Cameron finally yielded, crumpling back and down the altar step, and both of them were panting.  

"So."  Cameron was looking up at him, and in the dim moving light Paul couldn't read his expression. "You're serious, aren't you? You believe in that?"   Cameron nodded towards the alter, and Paul nodded, almost unwillingly.

"So, you didn't follow me to get a drink, which makes me wonder, Paul Giles Marshal, why did you follow me in here?"

Paul's cheeks were burning, he was sure. About the only thing he was sure about, because up until ten minutes ago he'd have sworn that Cameron knew exactly what he'd been after, that Cameron wanted the same, and now... Now there was just unrelenting silence and a leaden feeling in the base of his stomach.

"Because up until ten minutes ago I'd have followed you anywhere."  Paul was proud of how level he kept his voice, grateful that it hadn't cracked on his confession.

"Interesting."  Cameron tugged the cuff of his coat sleeve back into position over his wrist. Before looking back at Paul.   "And now?"

"And now I know there are places where I won't." 

"Would you follow me down to the Rec?"

Paul nodded.

"The beach?"


"My dad's place?"

Paul hesitated, but he would.

"Then you're stupider than I thought, Paul Marshal, but you're honest with it.  Get out of here, and I won't tell anyone."

He snapped his head with such authority that Paul had taken two steps before he thought to stop.

"What'll you ... I'll tell. If you take things. I'll tell we were here."

Cameron's laughter was sharp in the smoky air. "You're a fucking kid, Paul. You've no fucking idea. Get gone, lad, before someone teaches you."

** end **

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Stealing God by Alex Draven is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales License.
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