8. Candles

'What kind of candles do you use?'

‘Use for what?’

‘Your home alter. What kinds of candles do you use for your home alter.’

They were sitting and eating wet cake in a church hall. The tables were always packed too tightly, and the voices created a din that was always difficult to speak over. They had escaped to a side room that Sunday where the typical occupants hadn’t shown up. It was quieter. The ceiling was lower, the lighting dimmer, but the double doors out to the hallways spoke straight into the main entrance. The doors there were being held perpetually open by people coming and going; standing in the entrance and talking to each other. While small, a low cave, it was drafty, that second room.

‘Beeswax gives off a very cool color and atmosphere, I like the beeswax ones.’

Tony nodded as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I have been meaning to set one up, I don’t know why I haven’t set one up before.’

Sheila nodded as she forked cake into her mouth.

‘There is something about it.’

‘What?’ She asked.

‘I said that there is something about it.’ Tony repeated.

‘No, I mean, what is there about it? What is that something that is about it?’

‘Oh,’ Said Tony. He took a second to think about it. How was he supposed to explain it? There was the real reason, he was embarassed. Embarassed in many ways. Not just about how the neighbors, how visitors might see it. But how might god see it? What would god say of his work? He figured God would be pleased in one way or another, sure, I mean it was a gesture on Tony’s part after all. But to make the alter, to make a place for god in his house, what would God see then? What would Tony then be sharing with god?

‘Just not always sure what to do, I guess. And then you never really get around to it, you know?’ was the reply that he came out with.

‘What are you not sure about?’

Tony shrugged. ‘I don’t know. What, are you just supposed to do it?’

‘Do what?’ Sheila asked. ‘Just make it.’

‘But what if it isn’t right?’

‘What’s not right?’

‘What if it is bad?’

Sheila shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘It could be really bad in the start.’

‘What could be bad?’

‘The alter?’

Tony nodded.

‘How can an alter be bad?’

Tony shrugged. ‘It can be stupid.’

Sheila wanted to repeat that word, stupid, back to Tony but didn’t dare think about it. She didn’t want to make him feel it. ‘Well, I don’t think so.’ She told him eventually.

Tony had already felt stupid.

‘Do you feel stupid now,’ Asked Sheila.

Tony arched his eyebrows and at some cake.

She didn’t say sorry, but she didn’t know what else to say either. She scraped the plate with her fork and took the remainder of the cake up into her mouth. ‘I need to get going.’

‘Where are you off to today?’ He asked.

‘I am headed back home, I have work to do.’

‘Work?’ He asked. It was a Sunday, he wasn’t going to go and let his friends go off and work.

‘I have some thinking to do. I haven’t been able to think much this week.’

Sheila wrapped her scarf around her throat and put her hat on. Before she got up out of her chair she turned to Tony again. ‘Tony, I have one more question for you. When was the last time that you felt in control.’

Tony thought for a moment. His eyes glazed over as he went deep into his mind, trying to think over the question and also the answer. The question felt like a trap. She wasn’t interested in the answer, he thought, she was out after his reaction. What reaction did she want? What did she expect? What did he feel, what was the anwer there? In his own thoughts he found a reaction, a defensive mechanism that took him away from his answer to the question, his immediate reaction to the idea of his own control.

His chest tightened before he answered her. He didn’t want to give the answer in his heart, he didn’t know where he could go from there if he did. What would there be to carry on with?

Instead he just smiled at her. ‘I have a lot going on; there is something, always something going on.’ He said.

‘Is it other people?’ Sheila asked, standing up.

‘Yeah, I mean, there are other people. They ask a lot of me.’

‘They take up all of your time, then?’

Tony shook his head. ‘No, not really.’

‘So you have a lot on, then?’

Tony shook his head again. ‘No, not really, there isn’t that much going on.’

‘So you have time?

Tony shrugged.

‘What does that mean?’ She asked.

‘In a way.’

Sheila picked her jacket up from the seat back and hooked it over her shoulders, passing her arms through the armholes and shrugging the collar up onto her neck.

‘She looked down at Tony and smiled. ‘I’ll see you later, then.’ She walked out through the double doors out to the exit, letting the draft leap into the small room behind her.

‘I think you are doing alright,’ Said Phil from beside Tony. He had had been sitting there watching Tony beg Sheila to share the secret of her practice. Phil had thought it misguided. He wasn't sure that Tony saw what was really there or, was indeed looking for the right thing.

‘I admire her focus.’ said Tony.

‘She is driven, that’s for sure.’

‘I would like to be driven like that.’ Said Tony to Phil.

‘You aren’t? You seem very driven to do make this alter.’

Tony boggled his head. ‘Yeah, there is lots of stuff that I want to do.’

‘But you don’t do it?’

‘No,’ Said Tony, ‘I don’t do it.’

‘Right, well maybe its not you then. Maybe its not right; maybe you aren’t the problem.’

Tony turned to Phil. ‘Well, I don’t see anyone else stopping me, do you?’

Phil looked around the table. ‘No, I guess there is no one else. Maybe me. Am I the problem?’

Tony smiled.

After a few seconds Phil had another question:‘What do you think about you?’

Tony stood up and looked down at Phil with a smile. ‘It’s time to go.’

Phil nodded. ‘Busy day, then?’

‘It’s time to get going, I should probably go.’

‘Are you going to go buy some candles then?’

‘Naw, I mean, the candles probably shouldn’t be the first thing that I buy. I mean, I need a cross, don’t I?’

Phil shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I mean, it’s your alter.’

‘But what is it supposed to be?’

‘Sounds like you don’t want to get candles first. Why don’t you go get what you need first, then?’

Tony wrapped his scarf around his neck and pulled on his gloves. ‘I don’t know, lets see.’

Phil waved at Tony. ‘See you later, then.’

Tony pushed open the double doors and let in a gust of wind. ‘Yeah, see you later.’

Tony went out onto the street and pulled his phone from his pocket. He checked it. He didn’t have anything to do on it. He had already bought a ticket for the bus, but he wanted to pull it out to check it. To see it, to see what was going on, to see the rhythm and the stories that were out there in the world. He didn’t really imagine that they were, in fact, other people’s stories, but they were stories to see. Stories other than his.

God, he thought to himself in a prayer hidden in an excuse, it is not that easy to be a saint. I mean, we should try, but the conditions- the circumstances – I don’t know how much to expect from myself.

Tony didn’t want to hear a reply from God, but still. He put his phone back into his pocket and walked towards the bus stop. He was now in a rush to get home. To do what, he wasn’t sure. But the journey was suddenly chafing, in the way of his life. It wasn't what life was supposed to be about, he thought distractedly.

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