Phoenix shook her head at Eliza's apology, a genuine offense on her face. "You don't have to apologize for talking to God," she said. "No one should apologize for talking to God. Just because we don't say a blessing before meals, doesn't mean you shouldn't."
Aries piped in, nodding his head, his slitted eyes having a difficult time staying Eliza's face and not on her cleavage, "You can even say it out loud if you want to," he offered.
Phoenix chuckled, showing her agreement, and nodded also.
"Christian is The Bible, right?" Medusa asked, again looking from her mother to Eliza.
Again Phoenix nodded, and Eliza did too. The healer watched the ferret woman, the doctor in her mind turned on, but the curiosity of her general noisiness did not turn off with it. Saying a blessing at the table indicated a deep level of faith, saying a blessing as to not offend others indicated a deep level of respect for other's beliefs as well. Eliza lived in a household that was not Christian, and not Christian enough that she felt the need to pray outside of the others that would sit at the dinner table. The nosy thing in her wondered, what religion were her hosts? Did they have a religion? Or were they like she and her children, it being an open thing, for each to discover on their own in their own way? A deep level of faith gave one something to hang onto when the times got tough, when things seemed at their worst, when despair crept into the bones around the heart, trying to wheedle its way into the muscle.
Again, the dichotomy of Eliza's reactions fascinated the Phoenix, in a clinical, professional way. Here, she was unashamedly telling her children of her faith, in a very practiced way that showed she'd said the words before. They gave just enough information to not give too information, and excellent way to answer any question. Yet, she seemed, at times, to have no faith in what had been put in front of her, and what had been put in front of her was impossible to ignore. The woman seemed to be making every effort, at least Phoenix's brief examination of her, to be doing just that. She had been changed into an animal woman, and after what was turning into months, had not come to accept it. She still worked with money, she sent people to the store to buy things. That, alone, continued to blow Phoenix's mind. She was now confirmed pregnant, and had fainted on the floor of Phoenix's water closet, long enough that the little woman had been able to take the door down off of its hinges.
And now, after the uncertainty of the time with the children not present, she was acting as if this was a regular social call, something done on a usual basis, giving off the air of confidence and comfortability. Phoenix could see where the knack for ignoring things would come in handy in a situation like this. It gave one the ability to act one way at one time, and another way at another time. She'd never been able to do that. Her emotions showed her face like a beacon, she knew, and had stopped trying to hide them a long time ago. There wasn't anyone to hide them for, until Chategris and the Grey Cats had come into her life. They were honest enough with her that she didn't feel the need to be dishonest with them. So the hiding of things was gone from her life, and she did not think it had ever even been present in the lives of her children. She had forgotten how much of a social convention that was, to school one's features, one's feelings, to the point that the people around you would have no clue as to what was going on in one's thoughts. If Phoenix had not been present earlier, she would not know that Eliza had any kind of turmoil twisting in her heart.
"Catholics use the Bible too," Aries said. "The Catholics are Christians, but not all Christians are Catholic." Arcos and Medusa looked at him like he was crazy.
"How do you know that?" Arcos asked, his voice highly incredulous.
"Myra told me," Aries' brows drew together in annoyance. "I do talk to her, you know."
Phoenix made a loud clearing of her throat to which all three children fell silent and looked at their plates.
Aries was the first to poke his head up, "Are you Catholic?" he asked Eliza. "Or some other kind of Christian?"
"There's more than one kind?" Medusa muttered.
Phoenix felt her cheeks going red again. So much for trying to give them an inclusive religious education.
Eliza had to contain a chuckled snort at Medusa's comment, more than one kind indeed! She swung her head to Aries first, giving him her most encouraging smile, pleased and delighted with his knowledge and enthusiasm in continuing the topic.
"You are absolutely correct Aries." She praised, as she would any student, and graced him with her most encouraging smile. He seemed to beam at the compliment and attention. "Catholicism is among one of the largest sects of Christianity, but by no means the only one. And though I have to been to several of their services over the years, I am not one."
She took a sip of water before continuing and saw that Aries was leveling a somewhat smug look at his siblings. The woman made note that she would have to be more careful in the compliments she gave in the future. Eliza didn't feel too bad though, he had earned his moment.
The ferret turned her head to direct her next comment to the girl next to her. "There are a multitude of ways that Christianity is practiced but it can generally be divided into two major camps. Those who count themselves members of an organized religion, like Catholics, Baptists and Protestants, and others who believe but do not adhere to any form of formal structure. Preferring to take a more individual approach to their spirituality. There are still others who take a type of middle ground. Choosing what tenants they believe but still like to gather together in non-denominational congregations to enjoy worship with other followers of Christ."
Eliza did not expect to be giving a religious lecture with the meal. But she was reveling in the opportunity to discuss the topic so openly with a group. It was not as if she was restricted in anyway from doing so in the lair, just that no one had expressed more than a passing curiosity in her and Gwyn's religious observances. The only exception possibly being Mikey who sometimes joined them for their sabbath day lessons. Eliza suspected that he came more for the individual attention that Gwyn would dote on him or to possibly get on her mother's good side. Still he had a lovely tenor that blended nicely with Eliza and Gwyn's more practiced voices during the hymns they sung. So when the teen sought admittance to their room on the occasional Sunday morning, an old found paisley tie draped about his neck, she welcomed him in.
"While I believe that all spirituality should be approached on an individual basis, I would classify myself firmly in the first camp. I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but we are more commonly known as Mormons." The woman swept her gaze around the table as she declared her affiliation. She was pleased to find no judgement or preconceived notions reflected back at her. It was a pleasant change. "I would consider myself a very involved member and consistent in adhering to its' beliefs and practices." Immediately the pleasant feeling she had been enjoying deflated slightly as guilt tried to claw at her.
"Until recently that is." She clarified before tucking into her plate with gusto, using the perceived hunger to acquire the mental space she needed to stamp down her self-doubt. Regardless, the food had come out very good and she hated to let it cool too much before enjoying her meal.
"Oh!" Medusa smiled and nodded proudly, returning her brother's smug look, "We've read the Book of Mormon! Mama read it out loud to us."
She had indeed. She's also read them The Bible, with The Apocrypha, as that was the one her own Grandmamman had tried to drill into her and the rest of her generation in her family, The Koran, The Baghavad Gita, Dianetics, The Kojiki, The Tipikata, every ancient Greek and Roman holy text known to exist, and many other lesser known books, all of which were found in the garbage. At least she knew her kids were listening to her when she read out loud.
"Is that the one where the guy builds the ship and comes over the sea?" Arcos asked, his eyes squinted in thought.
"That's Noah's Ark," said Aries.
"No," the bear drawled. "I mean, the one where the guy sails across the sea with the big family, and they tie him up."
Their mother just listened to her children's conversation, and Eliza's answers. So, Eliza was Mormon? That surprised the Phoenix. Of all denominations, she had never thought of a mutant as a Mormon. Of course a mutant could be a Mormon, why couldn't a mutant be one? If one was before they came in contact with the mutagen ooze, why wouldn't they be afterward, unless they consciously decided to leave the faith?
She was aware that many of the Grey Cats had a strong faith, Chategris himself being one of them. A Haitian Catholic himself, raised with a strong dose of Voodoo, he had a crucifix around his neck sometimes, Phoenix guessed in times of personal trouble. She knew that Myra was also a Catholic, from a Hispanic background, both of them different from her grandmother's French-Canadian brand. She would think that there were others, Catholic and otherwise, within in the group, and she wondered errantly if any of them were Mormon.
The ferret woman's last comment struck her, however, and the strange mixture of faith and uncertainty came to the forefront of her mind again. A little niggling began in the back of it, tied to the front, but the thread was fuzzy, a dull gray color, and she couldn't read it accurately in her own head.
"Why until recently?" Phoenix asked, after the ferret mutant had addressed her children. While an unmarried pregnancy might denote a divergence from a religion's set path, the Phoenix knew that no one could keep all tenants of any faith. That would not have been the first transgression in two years the woman had committed. "Do its beliefs and practices change when one becomes mutated?"
Eliza had to take a step back from her previous concept that the children were not exposed to religion. To hear that they had been read the Book of Mormon and apparently, from the banter between the siblings, the Bible as well, she found extremely impressive. She swallowed her mouthful and waited for an appropriate point to enter the conversation. When Acros showed that he had actually retained some details she could hold back no longer.
"Well done Acros!" She was so happy that it colored her tone and chased away her personal shadows. "You are thinking of Nephi. He sailed with his family from the old world to the American continent. Unfortunately he had a couple brothers who had a habit of forgetting the hand of God in their lives and did not take too kindly to being reminded of it. That family's journeys and trials are the first ones we learn about when reading the book, but certainly not the last."
"We try to take the record of these people and apply their lessons in our own lives." Eliza abandoned her meal, folding her arms and inclining her body forward, completely engaged in the topic. "In fact you all remind me of one of my favorite stories."
Eliza fell naturally into her teacher mood without even consciously deciding to. "There was a righteous general who had to lead 2,000 young men into their first battle to protect a people who could not defend themselves. The fight was long and fierce but they were eventually victorious over a much larger force. As the general inspected the troops afterwards he was afraid to find how many he had lost. Every one of them had many wounds but not a single soul had perished. He asked them how they had all made it through the battle and they said that they were taught by their mothers that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. They said "We do not doubt our mothers knew it.""
She looked around the table and gave the children a mischievous smile. "The story teaches us about a just cause, righteous leadership, obedience and the value of faith." She paused and winked. "But my favorite point is that moms really do know what they're talking about and you should listen to them." She leaned back and laughed, unfolding her arms and placing her hands on the table on either side her plate.
Eliza looked to Phoenix, hoping that the other mother would enjoy her take-away message, only to find that her friend seemed distracted, lost in her own thoughts. As if sensing her attention the older woman looked up at that moment and asked about Eliza's recent change in activity. The ferret felt her neck warm with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
"No its beliefs do not." She said, fighting to keep the harshness she felt out of her voice. "But it is rather hard to 'attend meetings regularly' when you can't even walk into the building." She sensed her hands clenching and tried to relax but she could feel a tide of emotions rising up even as she fought to explain her situation in a calm manner. "Even then there are past examples to pull from. People who have had to practice their faith in isolation. Adaptation is acceptable where necessary." She flattened her hands on the table and pushed herself to standing while looking directly at Phoenix. "And sometimes 'ones' adherence has nothing to do with their mutation."
She looked to the rest of the table and said in an overly sweet voice, "Be right back, just need to check on the cobbler." and walked away, her tail puffed and swinging with agitation as she entered the kitchen.
Aries would have happily oogled at Eliza's rather nice behind as she bent over to check the cobbler, but the change in her voice from appraising, to downright snippy, to as sweet as honey utterly shocked him. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about it. He had still been basking in the praise she'd given him from his knowledge, but she spoke to his mother in a way that no one ever spoke to her, not even Chategris. What she said wasn't wrong, there was nothing wrong with the words, but the way she said it was filled with venom, like a verbal face slap. He decided didn't like people speaking to his mother that way, and a niggle of protectiveness fingered his chest. At the same time, it didn't seem that this nice, and very attractive, lady from a moment ago could suddenly have turned so hostile.
Arcos blinked confusedly, what just happened? Eliza was acting like his mother had said something inappropriate, but the ferret-woman had been going on about her religion. He seen some of the Grey Cats get upset when the concept of religion came up, Myra being one of them, but Eliza seemed more than eager to share. He had the impression she would probably even have gone into her own personal beliefs, especially with her comment about keeping tenets until recently. Yet, when his mother had asked about what had changed since her mutation, she'd brushed up like a electrified cat. He could see the fur pricking up through her clothes, and the smell of fear, indignation, and anger filled his nostrils. He turned to his mother questioningly, at a complete loss as to how one was supposed to act in a situation like this.
The agitation in the ferret-woman's body language was clear, she was almost thrashing her tail back and forth just as Medusa did when she was upset. A flick of the snake's tongue tasted anger, and below that fear. What in the world did she have to be afraid of? Medusa turned to her mother, and then heard her retort. Oh poop, Mama was mad. The ferret mutant definitely had something to be afraid of now.
Did the woman just sing-song to her children that she need to check the cobbler? The three kids looked at her bushed up tail, a sure sign that a ferret was upset. All of them knew that from their experience with the Grey Cats. From Eliza's back, they all turned their heads to their mother, their expressions confused at the sudden change in their guest's attitude.
While none of them were unfamiliar with such tactics, the Phoenix had never had it directed between herself and her children. It was always between she and some other woman, usually to get Chategris' attention. Or, it was one of the Grey Cats attempting to get the attention of one of her children. It was never to draw a line between she and her children. The fact that it could be done, within her own family, from someone outside of it, had never really crossed her mind, and the fact that it happened now seemed almost incomprehensible.
She felt a surge of anger bubble up from her chest. Eliza may be disturbed at her mutation, but that was no excuse for such a breach of manners. She may be in distress at her living situation, in the sewer, with a man who was obviously rather uncompromising, but that was no excuse for such an underhanded reaction. She may be dismayed about her pregnancy, something that should be ultimately joyous, something that was downright miraculous, but that was no excuse for her to attempt to put a wedge between she and her children.
That was not acceptable.
"When I was growing up," The Phoenix said, watching Eliza's tail as the ferret-woman bent over to examine the cobbler in the oven, "all sins were equal, no matter what they were. None had more magnitude than any other. Has that changed?" Her voice, while not malicious, was imperious, truly the voice of The Phoenix, none of the mother or sweet healer in it.
Eliza bent into the oven, the dry heat not even close to matching the burn in her veins. What the hell was wrong with her? She knew that she wasn't really angry with Phoenix, just upset that she had brought her back to a reality that she was trying to ignore, but the knowledge did nothing to quell the rage that she felt. It was like a sleeping dragon coiled deep in the pit of her stomach, and she had let her guard down, been lulled into the pleasant conversation, so that when confronted with a simple question, one that that she set herself up for, she had not been prepared for how angry it had made her. The beast had awakened and trying to soothe it again was not proving an easy task.
As she looked at the cobbler, not even close to being ready, she felt the embarrassment of her actions slowly crowding out her anger. Then the Phoenix's comment and query reached her ears and it only added fuel to her dragon's ire. She stood up and closed the oven door with controlled precision. She didn't turn, didn't look at her host, just stared at the wall as the seconds ticked by.
"What a comforting thought." She said to no one in particular, her voice icy. "To think that what I've done carries the same weight as pinching a pack of gum from the corner store." Finally she turned and crossed back towards the group, body full of taut lines and measured steps. She stopped at the counter, using it as a barrier between her and the rest of the family. "I thought you understood, but I can see now that you don't fully comprehend the magnitude of the covenants I've broken. Or the limbo I am left in."
As soon as the words left her mouth she felt a backlash of emotion coming from the group. She'd crossed the line more than once and was on the verge of a real confrontation. A part of her almost welcomed it. She'd been so confined within this alien skin for so long, playing her proper part in the lair, that it might feel good to let loose. It was childish and stupid and something that she used to with Grant all the time. They would yell and scream and hurl insults at each other, but as soon as the poison of the moment had been milked out, they returned to laughs and 'I love yous'. There was never any pretense between them. And she had never been more free. But these people were not her family. They did not know her. They did not understand. Yet, underneath her hurt there was a burning desire for someone to know who she really was once again.
'Just apologize' she told herself. 'You need her, don't make it worse.' Her pride wasn't worth alienating them. So, like always, she yielded. Taking a breath she folded in on herself. She calmed her anger and hurt, pulling it back and chaining it down. The ferret dropped her head and let go of the tension in her body.
"I'm sorry." she said, showing her proverbial underbelly, "You didn't deserve that and I'm being rude. It was just nice to pretend to be the person I used to be, even for a moment, that your question caught me off guard and brought me back to the now. I took my frustration out on you, and that wasn't fair." She looked at Phoenix, but did not move from her spot, not yet feeling she had made amends.
"To answer your earlier question, well, I told you what happened in the days before I was mutated, at least the gist of what occurred." She could feel her neck warm, embarrassed to explain herself in front of the others, but knew it was the only way to make up for her behavior. "I broke covenants that night, promises between myself and God. And I feel that weight everyday." She blinked her eyes, trying to stave off the tears and regret that threatened to overwhelm. "If I were human still, there are steps I would have taken, comfort and council I would have sought."
Eliza took a deep breath and looked at Phoenix, hoping that she hadn't burned a bridge so newly build. "So even though I've tried to overcome it my own, I still struggle with feelings of unworthiness. That's what's changed recently. I teach my daughter about virtue and honesty when the whole time I feel like a fraud and a hypocrite." She was completely exposed and the fear of their judgement settled on her heart. "Now, what should have been my secret to keep, my trial to overcome will be exposed to everyone, and that terrifies me."
She took another breath. "But I will face the consequences and do everything I can to make this right." Eliza looked to the other woman pleadingly. "These are my burdens to deal with and I should not have been rude and taken them out on you. Please forgive me. I will leave if you ask me to. But, I hope you'll still let me come back for the check-ups. The baby and I need you."