Chapter Four

The next few weeks left Silas filled with joy. Every moment was a new experience and awe inspiring at that, for a man like Silas. What a long time it seemed since his father's death, the prison, the beginning of his end.

This particular day the two had explored the church grounds to their limit, leaving the property (never before had Silas ventured so far without his guardian) following a small creek into a wooded grove. They were silent as was common for them, soaking in the beauty of the woods. Amelia lay down, facing the sky, searching for shapes among the woolen clouds. Silas carefully lowered himself to the ground beside her.

"What do you see when you look at the sky Silas?" Amelia asked, her arms lay at her sides, palms up to the sky as though giving thanks for the beauty surrounding her; Silas only wished he could see as she did.

"I see clouds, nothing more, nothing less." Amelia turned her head, looking at Silas' still form.

"Truly?"

"Truly." Amelia grew annoyed,

"Then you're allowing yourself to be closed-minded Silas. You say you believe in God, but you don't let yourself see his gifts."

"Gifts?" Silas felt his skin grow hot. This woman cut him open to his soul. He had spent the last several years of his life devoted to understanding God and his power.

"Yes, His gifts, His sense of humor in making clouds form shapes, His artistry in life. You don't seem to see that, just the condemnation. That if you trip on the path of life, you're doomed to burn in Hell. That's a very suffocating way to live." Silas looked away from her. She had the ring of truth. It wasn't that she disputed his faith it was his approach.

"Amelia—I understand, but I have spent my whole life fearing my next day would be my last. I do not want to die failing my faith." Amelia clasped her hands across her stomach.

"Do you want to know what I see when I look into your eyes?" Silas turned his face once more, stopping in a pool of sunlight that dripped from the great ocean of sky above them. Amelia pointed to him,

"I see possibilities—you see Silas, it isn't always what you do that proves your faith, it's having faith at all." Silas could only shake his head, not in disagreement, but disbelief that a woman who didn't attend church, who had no denomination, understood faith, belief. She understood as if born to hear God's thoughts and needs, Silas' thoughts and needs. He studied her features from his vantage point. Amelia saw him staring.

"What is it?" Silas just watched,

"I was wondering how someone as perfect as you could have become the artist. Someone should be drawing you." Amelia laughed,

"I'm flattered, but I prefer the side of the canvas I'm on now."

"Why, you're beautiful, your skin has color, it is flawless. Your eyes are, a shade that makes this very grass look wilted. You are perfect, something I will never be."

"Silas let me share a secret with you, no one's perfect. Not a single person." Amelia got to her knees in front of Silas and pulled the corner of her shirt up, revealing an angry scar.

"This skin you find so faultless is flawed because of an appendectomy when I was five." Silas looked at the scar as though she had shown him a miracle. He hadn't believed it possible that someone could make him feel as though he were as normal as the next person. Amelia shook her head at his look of wonderment.

"Anyone who says there's nothing wrong with them is lying." Amelia pulled her shirt back into place and faced Silas once more touching his face. Silas shivered, still unused to the contact of another person.

"But we are all created in the image of God… Or at least those worthy." Silas said softly, taking in the feeling of her skin against his. Her paleness darkened by his own colorless flesh. Amelia tilted her head and looked into his clear blue eyes.

"Perfection is earned Silas, not given. I don't think I've ever met someone worthier than you." Silas leaned into her touch. Amelia tilted her head, and smiled at him,

"You are who God intended you to be, if we have to keep this conversation religious. If He didn't believe you could be strong, He wouldn't have made you so unique." Finally Amelia dropped her hand and stood.

"I believe you have a mass to attend to." Silas nodded, and stood as well, slightly dumfounded.

"Yes, yes I do." As Amelia walked away, Silas felt himself desire something. Something he never would have desired to do several weeks ago. He grabbed Amelia's arm and pulled her back to him. Her surprise quickly melted to match his look of longing. His hand slid behind her neck pulling her face to his, Amelia didn't fight him. Before their lips met, Silas stopped.

What was he doing?

This was sinful, to act upon carnal desires, to become an animal. He pulled away, leaving Amelia confused and very clearly hurt. She composed herself, straightening the hem of her already straight shirt. She shifted her weight to her heel and turned to go as she had planned.

"If you're afraid it's sinful to love someone—you're more closed-minded then I thought."

She imparted a final look at Silas and walked away. The moment he could no longer see her Silas stumbled to one of the trees in the wood, the rough bark splintering against his pale fingertips. The pain in his hands only helped him focus on something other than the ache in his heart. Tears slid from the tidal pools of his eyes, his anguish obvious.

What had he just done?

All he wanted was to feel the love she offered, he just wanted to be loved.

He wanted her.

He clung to that tree for what seemed like hours until Father Aringarosa picked his way towards the grove, his robes brushing through the brambles and brush.

"Silas?" he called for Silas as he would a lost soul. He had seen Amelia leave, face set in absolute pain, Aringarosa had realized Silas must have shown his impossibility and undying devotion. Although the priest was pleased Silas had found religion, he was saddened the man couldn't—wouldn't allow himself to have as normal a life as possible.

He found his lost sheep, arms wrapped around a tree.

"My son, why are you hiding out here? You've missed mass, the sun is nearly gone." Silas didn't answer, just stared at him blankly. Eyes wet from tears. Aringarosa set his hand upon Silas' head,

"Silas why do you allow yourself to suffer? You know what you want, now take it." Silas shook his head,

"No Father, I do not know what I want." Aringarosa knelt beside the child-like man.

"Silas, you have not taken the same vows as some, you needn't suffer when you have been blessed with someone to care for." Silas looked at Aringarosa, with swollen eyes and pallid skin. They spoke no more.

That night Amelia reluctantly opened the door to her apartment. Eyes tired from crying over her earlier rejection. She hadn't wanted to cry but her feelings for Silas had grown to the point that his pulling away from her had truly crushed her.

Those tears were nearly started fresh as she realized who stood before her.

"Silas, what are you doing here?"