CHAPTER 19

Clay came to church a bit earlier than most sitting in a middle pew alone, it was a grey cloudy morning, the sun hardly lit through the windows today. Reverend Putty opening the door from his office to surprisingly see Clay sitting in the pews face to the ground. Reverend Putty walked down the steps and greeted Clay.

"Hello Clay, a little early aren't we?" Reverend Putty stated with a hint of annoyance in his voice mostly because of Clay and his previous interaction.

"Yeah." Clay said simply.

"And alone as well?"

"Bloberta, was too sick to come." Clay said trying to avoid Putty's eyes.

"Hmm? Its nothing too serious is it?"

"Oh its serious." Clay said with a bit of nuance to the word 'serious'

"Look I know we don't have a lot of time right now before church...but why don't we talk about everything over a drink afterwards." Putty offered with care, Clay's interest was piqued. Anything to keep him out of the house with a sick woman he figured...

Bloberta for the first time finally tried to rest in the master bedroom's bed, Clay's bed, she felt more worn out than she ever had been in the morning. She typically was a morning person, whereas Clay seemed to be more of the night owl. The roles were seemingly shifting over time...The feeling was miserable. Getting up to use the bathroom...A chore. Trying to keep food down...Impossible.

Another feeling of intense resentment, had she been able to feasibly get up with full energy and vigor she would go to Clay's study, smash that "ole' Gunny" to pieces, and slash the walls ceiling to ground. Fortunately that was just out of the question. Her rational mind came to her every hour or so telling her she wasn't thinking straight. It was like being drunk without any of the pleasure of the mindlessness it brought. No...These were all very conscious thoughts. Her more thoughtful side was afraid of it. These mood swings were going to be difficult for her to endure given her circumstance.

Bed ridden and hungry she could only wait for Clay. Either to berate him or to ask him to help her with her condition. Which ever she felt first she supposed...

After the sermon Clay and Putty met outside the church having a little small talk about the weather and other little topics they hardly cared about. Putty led Clay to a building with a sign reading 'Forghetty's' on the top of it. Clay noticed and tried to get Putty's attention to ask about it but was ignored as Putty opened the door, sitting at a table with Clay sitting next to him.

"Um...this place its called Forghetty's? Isn't that?"

"Oh yeah, don't sweat it. Down on his luck Forghetty went and bought out this bar after you beat him." Putty informed Clay. Clay looked around at the memorabilia and liquor bottles. Sweet envy. Too late now Clay thought...A blond woman came to their table and awkwardly asked what they wanted to order. Clay looked up to realize it was Dolly.

"Dolly? What are you doing here?"

"Aheh, um Clay, this is my new job. I resigned at city hall remember?"

"I- I'm.. happy for you." Clay had other feelings but she was beneath his view, hardly a background character in his own life.

"Two 77's for me and Mr. Puppington here. On me."

"Of course, I'll be right back."

"So Clay, how's the job treating you."

"Its very mind numbing."

"Aheh, well most every job is. I'm sure the corner store wasn't much different." Reverend Putty attempted to give a little wisdom about work and how its never ideal.

"I'd say that was more tedious than mind numbing personally." Clay said with a sigh getting what Putty was going for about work in general. The two were brought their drinks. Putty and Clay respectively drank. Clay jerked slightly at the somewhat sweet nature of it being taken off guard. "Ugh what is this?"

"Its a 77? A highball whiskey mixed with 7down?" Putty explained. Clay called out to Dolly before she left completely.

"Hey Dolly keep that lemon lime crap out of my next drink okay babe?"

"Ahah sure will do Clay." Dolly said walking away attending to other customers. Clay tried to stomach the drink as it was still alcohol.

"Not so much of a drink connoisseur are you, Clay?" Putty remarked as he sipped from his glass.

"Of all things to mix with a highball you like lemon lime soda?" Clay being more of a drink to get drunk guy wasn't really into the sport of mixing.

"Look thats not what I'm here to talk about with you Clay." Putty getting back on topic opened with: "You told me your wife was..too sick to come to church?"

"Ugh yesss..." Clay again sipped from the 77.

"I'm not really an expert on anything regarding marriage or family...but she's pregnant isn't she?" Reverend Putty boldly guessed. After chugging down the 77 glass and chugging a glass of water Clay's confidence came on.

"Oh right. Yep, totally gave it to her."

"That's why she didn't attend church today?"

"Yessir."

"And that's why you are so upset right now?"

"Well juggling church, my job, her, the baby and finally myself. I find it hard to believe you wouldn't be upset either, reverend." Putty was about to respond in a unsympathetic manner but reeled it in for the moment.

"Lots of people have done it, Clay. And I think you can do it too. You are stronger than you think."

"Then call me Superman. No- Call me SuperClay actually."

"Clay, when someone like you gets this deep they need to make a sacrifice for the greater good."

"Sacrifice?"

"Yes. If you'll recall Jesus sacrificed himself for you and me to live a full life with happiness and able to be free from sin. Your sacrifice for your responsibilities comes with a far less stipulation. Remember what I told you about God wanting us to face our challenges and demons. Take them on in stride rather than actully fighting them."

"Hmm...Sure. I guess you're right." Clay looked down beaten.

"Hey come on. Clay don't leave me in the dark for weeks at a time. I'm here for you, let me know how her pregnancy is going. And hey reserve me as the God-father hmm? haha."

"Pfft sure, revs haha."

-

Clay entered his home at a late 8pm, after chatting up the reverend he wandered the streets of Moralton taking in the scenery, the people. And most importantly being by himself until his body yearned for rest. The house was quiet much to Clay's relief until he opened the door to the master bedroom seeing Bloberta sleeping. This was the first time he'd seen Bloberta sleeping in HIS bed and it was when she was ALONE. Why did it make him feel jealous? Weird feelings and thoughts came over him. There was no way he actually loved this woman right? Clay tried to rationalize his feelings with 'she stole your bed, grr I'm mad' but it was far deeper than that even Clay knew. Clay was going over some of his thoughts about his sleep schedule with and without Bloberta over the past few months. He noted that Bloberta though she brought upon nightmares the comfort of sleep was blessed upon him. In recent weeks sleep away from Bloberta brought on mostly fruitless attempts at rest with bizarre images before being jolted awake by his body.

Both prospects were very undesirable. But Clay was up to try out his sleep experiment. He laid on the bed next to Bloberta facing away from her. Sleep on-setting...A flash of a ghostly spirit holding doll appeared. Sleep on-setting...A vision of a knife through his chest. Suddenly his whole body froze. He was in a dark void screaming with a knife in his chest, he yearned to wake up but his physical body was paralyzed. After a minute of agonizing torture he awoke in a cold sweat. Experiment unsuccessful. This was his life now. Clay went to his study poured a glass of whiskey and tried to drink as fast as he could to get to sleep. Bloberta wasn't the answer, she was merely a symptom. Gone to black...The flash and the vision rightfully changed to a dream.

The best part of everyone's night. A simple escape from saddening reality into utter fantasy. Imaginative brilliance brought forth for you to delight in. But both man and women as every human share a crueler side to their fantasies of love and revenge, of hate and forgiveness. Being awake you have a semblance of control to your thoughts and actions, in your sleep you have the will to murder and justify it. Being awake keeps us from those dark truths we dare not act on. The more bold actions we rule as justice, that are actually injustice. We are not selfish we think we are merely being selfless, we try to say. We don't want to hurt anyone they only hurt themselves.

And in all that reason you realize you are a human. A soul within a shell that demands to thrive and live. A shell that needs not only nutrition but love and attention. A soul that has to abide by not only the laws of God but by the laws of Man. And you find that your moral compass is confused and torn between two scopes. A spiritual side, and a corporeal side. God, or Man? Should I choose between my morals or my feelings?

Clay realized that in marrying Bloberta he had been forced into a life of servitude and responsibility. No longer could he just be in debt to his lord. He was now a 'lord' in his own right. Feelings thrown out the window, all morals as well, he was just trying to keep it together at this point...God tried to speak to him in vain but Clay was far too gone.

He was going to father a child. A child his wife coveted more than even a husband, Clay reveled in the value of his son.