The Book of Wagner
By Immortaljedi
Prologue:
Sunday, June 29th, 2003
The figure sat alone in the empty church. It was unusual for the church to be empty on a Sunday, but at 9 o'clock at night, it was understandable. The boy had been sitting there for close to an hour already and as he stared at the alter he didn't seem inclined to move.
The elderly Priest, Father Francis Mulcahy, entered the sanctuary once he noticed the lights hadn't been turned off. When he saw the boy, however, he paused. With careful, measured, but strong steps, Father Mulcahy walked to and sat on the opposite end of the pew from the boy. The boy didn't move his gaze.
Father Mulcahy watched the young boy as he drifted in thought. His shoulders were slumped and indigo hair brushed the boys' collar. The boy's hands seemed to be folded in prayer, yet when he looked at them closely, the fingers were grouped into pairs before the hands were twined. The boy's dress was typical for the modern teen; brightly colored and baggy. The boy became suddenly aware of the scrutiny.
He jumped and muttered softly in German. "I apologize, Fazzer, I deedn't see you zere." Mulcahy smiled.
"That's alright, my child. You'd be surprised how many times I've heard that." The boy smiled faintly and Mulcahy smiled reassuringly at him. The smile wavered however when the boy looked away, eyes saddened. Mulcahy shifted closer.
"Are you alright, my child? What is troubling you?" The boy shrugged.
"Life." He answered simply. Mulcahy smiled.
"Ah." The boy sighed.
"Fazzer." he began cautiously, "Vhat do you zink of zis mutant eessue?" Mulcahy blinked at the sudden change in topic, but answered anyway; glad to get the young boy talking.
"I have a feeling the media isn't presenting the whole truth, only parts of it and false accusations. But even if I believed it, it's not my place to judge that. Only one can do that, and He created Mutants too, after all." Mulcahy stared at the boy knowingly. "That's what's troubling you, isn't it. You are afraid of the anti-mutant backlash." The boy started, but nodded.
"Ja.eet vas very bad in Germany.zat is vhy I moved to America. Zen zis." Mulcahy was now close enough to the boy to put a comforting hand on his arm.
"Just so you know, you will always have sanctuary in the church, especially as long as I'm here." The boy smiled, then looked at his watch and exclaimed sharply in German.
"shieze!" He flushed red. "Zorry Fazzer." Mulcahy laughed.
"Let me guess. You're late for curfew." The boy nodded.
"Ja. Zank you for talking to me.eet means a lot to know I haf a place to go vhen zings get rough." Mulcahy smiled.
"It's nice to see you here. Come back anytime if you want advice, confession, or just to chat. I have a wonderful chess set and I play a mean game of checkers." The boy laughed.
"Zank you, I may take you up on zat." Mulcahy smiled, and the boy turned to run.
"Wait a minute!" he called out, "What is your name, my son?"
"Kurt!" the boy called back, "Kurt Wagner."
Mulcahy smiled.
"Niec to meet you, Kurt," he whispered to the altar.
TBC.
A/n.um.is the accent too strong? If it is I'll not write it that way anymore. Just let me know.
I was, am, and will always be, Immortaljedi
Prologue:
Sunday, June 29th, 2003
The figure sat alone in the empty church. It was unusual for the church to be empty on a Sunday, but at 9 o'clock at night, it was understandable. The boy had been sitting there for close to an hour already and as he stared at the alter he didn't seem inclined to move.
The elderly Priest, Father Francis Mulcahy, entered the sanctuary once he noticed the lights hadn't been turned off. When he saw the boy, however, he paused. With careful, measured, but strong steps, Father Mulcahy walked to and sat on the opposite end of the pew from the boy. The boy didn't move his gaze.
Father Mulcahy watched the young boy as he drifted in thought. His shoulders were slumped and indigo hair brushed the boys' collar. The boy's hands seemed to be folded in prayer, yet when he looked at them closely, the fingers were grouped into pairs before the hands were twined. The boy's dress was typical for the modern teen; brightly colored and baggy. The boy became suddenly aware of the scrutiny.
He jumped and muttered softly in German. "I apologize, Fazzer, I deedn't see you zere." Mulcahy smiled.
"That's alright, my child. You'd be surprised how many times I've heard that." The boy smiled faintly and Mulcahy smiled reassuringly at him. The smile wavered however when the boy looked away, eyes saddened. Mulcahy shifted closer.
"Are you alright, my child? What is troubling you?" The boy shrugged.
"Life." He answered simply. Mulcahy smiled.
"Ah." The boy sighed.
"Fazzer." he began cautiously, "Vhat do you zink of zis mutant eessue?" Mulcahy blinked at the sudden change in topic, but answered anyway; glad to get the young boy talking.
"I have a feeling the media isn't presenting the whole truth, only parts of it and false accusations. But even if I believed it, it's not my place to judge that. Only one can do that, and He created Mutants too, after all." Mulcahy stared at the boy knowingly. "That's what's troubling you, isn't it. You are afraid of the anti-mutant backlash." The boy started, but nodded.
"Ja.eet vas very bad in Germany.zat is vhy I moved to America. Zen zis." Mulcahy was now close enough to the boy to put a comforting hand on his arm.
"Just so you know, you will always have sanctuary in the church, especially as long as I'm here." The boy smiled, then looked at his watch and exclaimed sharply in German.
"shieze!" He flushed red. "Zorry Fazzer." Mulcahy laughed.
"Let me guess. You're late for curfew." The boy nodded.
"Ja. Zank you for talking to me.eet means a lot to know I haf a place to go vhen zings get rough." Mulcahy smiled.
"It's nice to see you here. Come back anytime if you want advice, confession, or just to chat. I have a wonderful chess set and I play a mean game of checkers." The boy laughed.
"Zank you, I may take you up on zat." Mulcahy smiled, and the boy turned to run.
"Wait a minute!" he called out, "What is your name, my son?"
"Kurt!" the boy called back, "Kurt Wagner."
Mulcahy smiled.
"Niec to meet you, Kurt," he whispered to the altar.
TBC.
A/n.um.is the accent too strong? If it is I'll not write it that way anymore. Just let me know.
I was, am, and will always be, Immortaljedi