It wasn't until the following Wednesday that Elsa allowed Cainan to start actually working around the church. His injury seemed to be doing better, though Elsa was the real expert. Abelard took her word for it, when she told him on Tuesday night that Cainan should have recovered enough to go back to working around the grounds. And so Abelard had brought the younger cat with him the following morning. Things still weren't ideal between the two of them, but Abelard had elected to refrain from speaking to Cainan about his parents for the time being. Granted, he had overheard him joking around with Bobby around the house a few times. Abelard took this as a good sign.
Even on this day as they walked together along the dirt road, Abelard noticed that Cainan's gait was more natural, and he didn't seem to struggle as much as he previously had. Neither of them said much. Abelard hadn't the faintest clue what to say. He could tell the sour taste that their conversation had left in Cainan's mouth on Sunday night still lingered.
"Are you certain you're ready for work? With your leg and all…" Abelard asked as they reached the peak of the upwards sloping road. It was a cooler morning today, so much so that Abelard could see his breath before his eyes when he spoke. Just the wonders of early spring, he supposed. The younger cat was back to wearing his thick, brown jacket over his clothes, along with a pair of old beige pants, which Abelard recognized to have once been his own. Abelard also carried a single lantern in his hand, the same one he used to light his way as he walked home from the church.
"I still am, yeah – you've asked me that three times now," Cainan replied. Abelard's ears perked up. His tone didn't sound annoyed at all, but rather almost… amused. When Abelard glanced over at Cainan by his side, he even saw the white cat smiling. "I'll be fine. And if not, I ain't going to overdo it or overexert myself."
"Very well…" Abelard noted. He had taken to wearing all-black, as he so often did. His hand held onto his hat as a surprisingly strong breeze threatened to blow it off. "I'm sure Wendell will be pleased to see you back. He did seem quite happy to finally have someone to help him out. And you're absolutely certain you know what it is you've agreed to do? This job isn't easy, it's physically demanding, Mist- Cainan…"
Abelard had addressed the younger cat by his first name ever since that night, but even now the Turkish Angora seemed equally surprised to be addressed that way. The younger cat just snorted. "Well, I know. But right now, I can't afford to be picky, Father Arbogast. If it breaks my back, well at least Elsa can stitch me back together."
As Cainan chuckled, Abelard simply shrugged. He supposed that was the right attitude to have in his situation. Truth be told, Abelard didn't even know where else to go looking for someone who would be willing to take Cainan. The white cat was convinced that the locals wouldn't like him much, but Abelard was hopeful, especially given how readily Wendell had been willing to take him on. Perhaps working around the church would restore some good will.
"What about you then? What do you do all day?" Cainan asked as they continued on their way. Abelard realized the younger cat had never actually asked him this before, which in turn caught him by surprise. "I mean, there aren't services every day, right?"
"No, usually we reserve that for Sundays and holidays," Abelard agreed, nodding. As the breeze died down, he let go of his hat, walking with proper, fast strides by Cainan's side, his arms swinging as he did. Cainan meanwhile slouched and walked with his hands in his pockets, as per usual. "Well, once I've walked you to the church, I'll be visiting with the people of the town. I make my daily rounds early, then I return to the church eventually. I used to do confessions as well, but we haven't had a confessional in quite a while."
"Oh, I bet you heard some fun stuff in there," Cainan said, his tone one of intrigue, like he was hoping Abelard might share some stories with him. Of course, he wouldn't. Confessionals weren't a thing made for one's entertainment and especially not one such as himself. Never would Abelard commit such a breach of trust between him and the people of Defiance. Not to mention the fact that it would be an abuse of his position. "You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"I most certainly am not," he grunted in response as the two of them continued on their way.
"Hmmm, didn't think so, but it was worth a try." The younger cat just chuckled, seemingly not bothered by the response he got. Abelard side-eyed him momentarily, but said nothing else of it. As they continued past the many surrounding fields, the morning sun shone its bright light onto the crops all around them, bathing them in its golden glow.
The two of them continued in silence, though Abelard did have to slow down a few times to let Cainan properly keep pace with him. Occasionally he'd glance over to look at Cainan on his left. They made eye contact a few times and out here in the morning sun, Cainan's white fur looked like it was glowing, not unlike some biblical imagery Abelard had seen in his time.
Just before the two of them reached the treeline that fenced in the area around the church, Abelard's black hat blew off his head as it got caught by a stray breeze from his right. Abelard reached up for his hat, but didn't catch it in time. However, Cainan managed to do so.
"Oh, thank for you that, Cain-" However, instead of handing the black, wide brimmed fedora back to Abelard, Cainan put it on his own head. The white cat's head was seemed slightly smaller as it didn't fit quite right, though Cainan's white ears helped hold it up.
"How's it look on me?" Cainan asked, grinning at Abelard from under the brim of the hat. "Does it suit me?"
"Very funny, Cainan. Now, please give it back," he grumbled at the shorter cat, coming to a halt and turning towards him. He reached for his hat, but Cainan dodged sideways, almost falling over in the process. Abelard glared at him. "Alright, playtime is over – give it back before you get hurt."
Removing the hat, Cainan sighed and rolled his eyes, before handing it back to Abelard. "Oh, you're no fun…"
"Not at all," Abelard agreed as he placed the hat back on his head, adjusting it slightly once it was there. Cainan just chuckled and walked forward along the dirt road, his bushy, white tail giving a swish. Abelard snorted and followed behind, catching up to the younger cat after a few long strides. The two of them reached the treeline up ahead soon enough, and just beyond it, they could see the church as it was bathed in the early morning light.
It was a sight Abelard adored, one he'd grown used to over the decades of living in Defiance. The world around him may have changed in the decades that had come and gone, but this sight remained an unchanging, fixed constant he could always seek comfort in. Even on rainy days, the sight of the church always brought him sense of familiarity, its white exterior practically shining in the gloom, like a star.
"Alright, this is where we part ways, Cainan," Abelard said, perhaps being a bit overly formal – he even got a funny look from the white cat, but he didn't care. "I shall be doing my rounds, I trust that you'll do your best to not burn the church down."
"Oh, that reminds me, I forgot my matches in my room," the younger cat chimed in sarcastically. Abelard scowled down at him, which apparently made him chuckle. As annoying as it was, Abelard supposed he should be glad the younger cat was at least showing signs of being in a better mood already. The past few days had seen a more subdued version of Cainan, which had been unusual. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. I'll see you later, yeah?"
"You will indeed," Abelard said calmly, before he left the church. He knew Wendell ought to show up soon, unless he already had. Odds were he was over in the barn nearby where they kept supplies and equipment. Abelard hoped the old groundskeeper would be pleased to have some help. All the same, Abelard was trying his best to remind himself to give Cainan a chance. He didn't want to be called a hypocrite by anyone, especially not kids like Cainan. Cainan was a kid, wasn't he? He certainly acted like it often. Abelard hadn't a clue how old he really was, given the vague statements he'd made about when he'd left home and how old he'd been at the time.
As he climbed the gently sloping hill that overlooked the fields surrounding the church, Abelard reminded himself to worry less. If Cainan did a good job, Wendell would be pleased, and the church might have a new groundskeeper with lots of potential. If he didn't? Well, if he didn't, Abelard would know for sure to start looking elsewhere for something the younger cat could do. That would be at least one thing he wouldn't need to worry about. And yet… Abelard couldn't help but wonder… if Cainan did do a good job, if he were to be taught by Wendell how to maintain the church grounds… Would he stick around for long?
Abelard tried his best to imagine himself one day retiring and leaving the church to someone new, along with Cainan as groundskeeper, the same way Wendell had been there before Abelard had become ordained. It was hard to picture, admittedly. Though Abelard didn't want to assume the worst, he did have a hard time imagining that Cainan would stick around for that long.
Setting course for the scenic route that would take him back out towards the fields surrounding Defiance, Abelard thought back to Cainan, how much more cheerful he seemed today. For a while, following the conversation about Cainan's parents, Cainan hadn't spoken to Abelard much and certainly hadn't acted the way he had been this morning. He was a strange one. Nothing had really changed, but Abelard supposed it might just be a matter of time before he reverted to… whatever he was supposed to call his behavior.
Even now, Abelard wondered if Cainan was being put to work. He didn't know exactly what Wendell might need help with today, but he hoped the young cat would at least be able to do something. Ideally he would do a good job. Abelard knew it was in both his, Cainan and Wendell's best interest that the young cat did a good job; Abelard wouldn't need to worry about hiring someone for the position; Cainan wouldn't need to worry about finding a job; Wendell wouldn't need to worry about slaving away all on his own.
Given what little he knew of Cainan's life before returning to Defiance, Abelard was curious about how well he'd do. It had sounded like he'd spent quite some time living off gambling, though he hadn't specified what kind of gambling. Abelard didn't know much about that business, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was legal or not. What kind of gambling was it? Was there such a thing as legal gambling?
Stopping in his tracks, Abelard couldn't believe he'd never thought to ask. As much as he didn't feel as though he ought to interrogate Cainan again, Abelard would have to ask, just to make sure this young straggler hadn't partaken in yet more illicit business he shouldn't have. He scoffed and lit a cigarette before he continued on his way.
In any case, if he truly was as versatile as he had made himself out to be when they met, Abelard at least hoped he'd do a decent enough job under Wendell's watchful eye. He didn't actually know what the old groundskeeper had to teach Cainan, but he hoped he'd be receptive to it; Wendell had been at it for longer than the boy had been alive, after all.
Once Abelard made his way out to Defiance General, he put out his cigarette and stepped into the small shop. As usual, Mr. Weaver was up early. Though the topic of Cainan's presence had come up a few times, it wasn't the most frequent matter of discussion when Abelard visited Mr. Weaver. He certainly didn't feel like discussing it now that Cainan was finally being put to work.
Abelard had kept his statements about Cainan vague; no one outside Wendell, and Bobby and Elsa knew that the young cat was being put to work around the church. For the time being, Abelard intended on keeping things that way.
"Ah, good morning, Father Arbogast. Fancy a game of chess?" he asked immediately. The shorter orange cat looked to be in a good mood, which hopefully meant that Cainan wasn't about to be brought up. If there was one thing the older cat seemed to like it was to talk about Cainan, however. Abelard couldn't say he approved of this behavior, but all the same…
"And a good morning to you as well. I do have the time, yes. I shall let you play white today," Abelard said as he removed his hat. The two of them moved to the small table by the large window where an old wooden chess set was placed. Abelard sat down and placed his wide-brimmed fedora in his lap.
"Really now? Did something happen?" Abelard didn't answer right away as he and Mr. Weaver set about putting all the pieces back in place from where they'd last left off. It was true, Abelard usually played white when it came to chess.
"Oh no, I just wouldn't mind taking the second turn for once," Abelard responded once the board was fully set. He let Mr. Weaver make his first move, uncharacteristically glancing out the window instead of paying attention.
"Alright, now I'm certain something's on your mind. What is it? That Wirth boy giving you trouble?" Abelard immediately turned back to look at Mr. Weaver once Cainan was addressed. The old shopkeeper was the only one who knew that Cainan was staying with Abelard and his family. Everything else was undisclosed, as Abelard didn't like sharing too much of his private life.
"No. The boy has been quite civil while staying with us. As a matter of fact…" Abelard barely paid attention as he made his own first move. "… he's been quite cordial. He helps Elsa out around the house. Bobby doesn't seem to mind having him around either."
"Ah, Elsa, it's been a while since I last saw her. How is she doing these days? Does she still have trouble around people?"
"She's doing quite well. She doesn't mind strangers these days, but she still prefers to stay at the house." Abelard could feel his face tightening a bit. He didn't like talking about Elsa with the people of Defiance. Most remembered her either as the little girl who never smiled or they remembered her for the episodes she used to have right after she returned to Defiance. He never liked the way they spoke of her, as if she weren't even a person anymore – as if she were broken.
"So the Wirth boy doesn't give her grief… that's good." As it was Abelard's turn once more, he couldn't help but notice that Mr. Weaver almost sounded sorry, as though he'd hoped Cainan's presence might be less than ideal.
Nevertheless, Abelard put his knight into play. He tried to think about a way to steer the conversation away from Cainan, but what else could they really talk about? As much as Abelard didn't want to admit it, Cainan's reappearance had likely been the most exciting thing to happen in Defiance for quite a while.
"And how has business been? You haven't had any troublemakers stop by as of late, have you?" Abelard finally asked. His questions were rather dull, he knew as much. In fact, he knew the answer to the latter, given that the troublemakers that visited by Defiance General in the dead of night were from Marigold, the very same people that he and Bobby did business with. They were never pleasant fellows, to say the least, and whenever Bobby and Abelard could avoid it, they chose not to interact with Marigold's rumrunners. Most times, they could luckily leave the liquor in specified locations for them to pick up, which was the ideal arrangement for everyone.
"Business is good. There's nothing exciting to talk about as far as that goes… I haven't seen any of those people around in a while – you know, the ones with the flower pins," Mr. Weaver said contemptuously as he finally made his own move, bringing out a bishop onto the board. "But I suspect I've not seen the last of them…"
"Hmmm…" Abelard knew for a fact that he would see them again, but he wasn't going to say that. Despite everything, the moral complexities, the complications that prohibition had brought on and the questionable choices he, Bobby and Elsa had made, Abelard still wasn't proud of his involvement in this business. He'd had many restless nights, thinking things over, trying to reason with the Lord and with himself that he wasn't leading his fellow man and woman into sin.
Cainan had to admit, despite everything that had gone down between him and Father Arbogast, he wanted to make an effort to prove himself. Putting his best foot forward and making a good impression seemed like his best option right now. Of course, it wasn't a cakewalk, he knew as much. And indeed, Wendell set out to prove it to him by making him clean headstones for the day.
"Here. Just make sure to brush 'em till you can properly read all the text," the older cat told him gruffly as he handed him a brush with stiff hairs. "Just start with them ones here by the church, and we'll see how far we get."
"Uh… Alright, I can do that," Cainan noted as confidently as he could. He knew he especially ought to do a good job around Wendell – while technically not his employer, the old tuxedo cat had been the reason for his employment to begin with. Cainan wasn't about to forget that fact. But even so… scrubbing headstones hardly seemed like the most riveting thing to spend his morning doing.
Cainan made his way to the small grave site closest to the church and sat down on his knees first, careful not to put too much pressure on his leg where he'd had his injury. As he set to work on the first of the headstones, a tall, spire-like one, he thought back to the talk he and Father Arbogast had shared that Sunday night. The abrupt ending to their window conversation had seemed to leave an impact, at least, which Cainan was thankful for. Father Arbogast hadn't pursued the topic any further since. Normally, Cainan would've rather stayed and just argued, but that night had felt different.
Not only was it about his parents, a subject he would ideally keep to himself from now on, but it was also just… rather disheartening to have Father Arbogast revert to using his surname to address him. Cainan didn't care what the Bible said about honoring one's parents. Even as a child, he had found much of the Bible hard to swallow, being force-fed hamfisted tales and values from that book by his parents.
With a grim sort of satisfaction, Cainan remembered how, as a child, he'd sat in his bedroom, crying and started tearing pages out of his Bible, torn them each to pieces or crumpled them up. It was one of the last memories he'd had in the Wirth house before he left, at least one of the last significant ones. He had skipped town just a few months later.
He remembered being beaten over the head with how he would suffer and be punished in the afterlife for every little thing he did; he remembered being told that God himself would intervene, if he did something that was bad enough. The ever-looming threat of a divine force that could strike at any second had kept a young Cainan in check, at least for a while.
Scrubbing and brushing the headstones turned out to be just as dull as Cainan imagined it would be. So, while working under Wendell's watchful eye, he hummed to himself. His thoughts drifted to Father Arbogast, wondering exactly what he was doing. He hadn't the faintest clue what a reverend did when they weren't in their church, but he supposed he would have to really ask for himself whenever he got the chance to. Cainan had barely finished the first headstone before Wendell lumbered over to inspect it.
"Not bad, kid," he grunted from above Cainan as he looked down at the now remarkably cleaner headstone. "Make sure they all look like that."
Looking up at the old tuxedo cat, Cainan offered him a smile and a nod, before moving onto the next headstone, taking a more relaxed stance as he cleaned, sitting in a far more comfortable way. Cainan couldn't help but wonder how long this actual apprenticeship would last.
How long would it realistically take him to learn what he needed to know? Swinging a scythe for the first time had seemed easy enough, cleaning headstones did as well. But then again, Cainan couldn't possibly begin to imagine what else he'd be expected to do. He was sure the church itself needed maintenance all year round. Was he expected to paint the building all by his lonesome?
He cast a sideways glance at the white walls of the church, then resumed brushing the headstones. He supposed the upside to Wendell doing as good of a job as he did was that the headstones hardly seemed dirty at all. As Cainan positively lounged by the third headstone he came to, he did remember how the older cat's halted gait looked. Would he end up like that as well, if he worked a job like this for years?
The thought made Cainan hesitate momentarily. He was only twenty-seven… becoming as old as Wendell seemed so far away, but still the thought lingered in his mind as he worked. This job could and would wear down his body eventually…
No, he wasn't going to be here for that long, surely. No, right now it was purely about survival, he'd figure things out on his own once he'd made enough money to either find a new home or travel elsewhere. Cainan hadn't the faintest clue when that might be, however. He hadn't actually discussed money with Father Arbogast; he'd just been happy to have somewhere to live and have food to eat. How did working for a church somehow seem less official than partaking in the more illicit business Cainan had some amount of past experience with? Even the more proper jobs he'd worked in his time had seemed more official with money discussed up front.
Cainan gave a small snort. Many of the jobs he'd worked didn't give him wages that amounted to more than the bare minimum for living or loose change. Even living out of his car wouldn't have seemed nearly as bad if he'd at least had food. But then again, Cainan didn't think he could really complain, seeing as he'd at least survived for this long.
"Well, how did it go? I see he didn't burn the church down," Abelard grumbled at Wendell, as though this had been a genuine concern for him. Abelard had spent more time in town today than he likely would have otherwise. As a matter of fact, he had partaken in not just one, but two chess games by Defiance General. He'd even gotten a chance to speak to some customers as they appeared towards the afternoon.
"He's… a bit rough around the edges, but he'll do nicely. Boy's got potential," Wendell grunted right back, his bright eyes shining in the glow of the lantern Abelard carried with him. The black and white cat watched as Cainan reappeared from the barn after putting away the equipment they'd used that day. "I had him cleaning up the headstones around the church. He's… Hmmm…"
"What?" Abelard asked, ears perked up as he thought whatever comments Wendell might have about Cainan were important.
"Nothing… He's just an odd one. He would lay down and sit around while cleaning them. You'd think he was picking daisies." Abelard could most certainly picture Cainan doing just that. The young cat had never struck him as someone who would be very keen on physical labor, but… Abelard cast a glance over at the nearby headstones. Even in the afternoon's dimmer light, he could tell that they were quite clean – as clean as could be, possibly. "At least he did a good job of it. He'll fit right in, I think."
"I see… Well, this is good to hear." Wendell shot Abelard a skeptical look. The optimism of his words hadn't translated into his voice or his face. Abelard cleared his throat. "In any case, we'd best take our leave for today. I shall see you tomorrow, Wendell."
After bidding Abelard goodbye, the old groundskeeper left the reverend and headed home. Abelard moved the other way up towards the barn where he met Cainan by the grove. The sky above had taken on a darker purplish blue color, hues of orange closer to the western horizon, as the sun was setting. Cainan didn't look worse for wear, but he did look more ruffled than Abelard usually saw him, his bangs looking rather tussled and messy like he'd been wiping his brow a lot today.
"Are you ready to leave?" Abelard asked, seeing a look of pure relief on Cainan's face. It was an almost comical sight to Abelard, who couldn't help but show the slightest of smiles.
"Oh, I never thought you'd ask! Wendell worked me half to dea-" The white cat cut himself off and stared. Then he chuckled. In a far more teasing, playful tone, he asked, "Wait, are you smiling? I didn't know you could smile…"
And the small smile vanished from Abelard's face as he scowled down at the younger cat. He snorted. "Well, I usually don't have too much around here that makes me smile. It happens from time to time."
The white cat shot Abelard a curious glance, but said nothing else as the two continued on their way towards the funeral home. Abelard looked him over continuously. He seemed exhausted, his walking somewhat strained. If he had to guess, the younger cat was probably quite sore after a day of brushing headstones. Though it wasn't the most common occurrence, Abelard was glad to know that the headstones had been cleaned on this day. It honestly made quite a difference when looking upon the engraved headstones, especially the more text heavy ones.
Some had just names and accolades on them, others had pictures etched into the stone. Abelard even knew some with bible verses, others with metal inlays and designs. While he himself didn't see the need for some of the more elaborate headstones, he supposed that was more so for the ones the deceased left behind.
The two of them mostly walked in silence until they reached the funeral home. By the time he stepped onto the porch, Abelard noticed that Cainan looked about ready to keel over. The white cat was hunched forward slightly more than he usually did when slouching. The two had barely stepped into the foyer before Cainan carelessly kicked his shoes off, threw his coat onto the coat tree and left Abelard standing there, staring after him.
He didn't even get a chance to tell Cainan off for doing that.
Grumbling, Abelard simply pushed the younger cat's shoes aside as to not leave them as a tripping hazard, before he put out his lantern. Abelard had barely removed his own jacket and his hat before Elsa appeared in the doorway to the hall. "Ah, Elsa… How was your day?"
"Just fine, Abelard… Is Cainan alright?" she asked, looking remarkably worried, for once. It was a curious reaction to Cainan's behavior, but Abelard simply nodded slowly.
"I'm sure he is… Why?"
"Well, he just dragged his feet all the way through the house and threw himself onto the couch in the living room." Abelard gave a snort at his sister's words. "You two didn't overwork him too much, did you?"
"I, for one, didn't… I know Wendell had him taking care of quite a few things today." Abelard paused momentarily and crossed his arms. "I don't think he's used to manual labor yet. A good night's sleep will do him good."
As Abelard made his way into the hall, Elsa returned to the kitchen. She seemed to silently decide not to rouse Cainan to help with dinner for once. The white cat had helped her in the kitchen every night up until this point, but Abelard supposed it wouldn't be so bad to let him rest for now. He himself made his way into the living room where he found Cainan on the couch, face pressed down into the cushions. He looked like he'd just fallen over and hadn't moved an inch since.
Abelard snorted and moved up behind the couch's back rest, putting his hands on it as he leaned over Cainan. "Don't fall asleep now. You'll disrupt your body's natural sleep pattern."
The white cat didn't respond with more than a muffled groan as his white tail gave a swish, hitting Abelard in the face. He spluttered and waved it away with his hand. The white cat finally rolled over till he was on his back, looking straight up at Abelard with those pale green eyes. He put his left hand behind his head to prop himself up, the young cat looking so utterly exhausted and ruffled, Abelard almost felt bad for not letting him sleep.
"I think you underestimate how much I can sleep," he noted in an almost cocky tone, as though this was some great life achievement. "I once slept for twelve hours or so."
"And you're proud of that?" Abelard scowled down at the younger cat. "… What?"
"Oh, nothing." The younger cat had looked at him in a rather bemused way. "I definitely am, though – mayhaps it's some kind of record."
Scoffing, Abelard shook his head. He couldn't see how that was something to be proud of, but then again, he was so far removed from Cainan and how he had lived his life up until this point, he could hardly pretend to understand the Turkish Angora's mindset. Remaining standing behind the couch, leaning slightly over Cainan, Abelard cleared his throat.
"Well, I would hope it isn't something you plan on repeating anytime soon," he grunted down at the lounging cat on the couch. He just smirked up at him. "Perhaps on Sundays, but… I'm going to need you to help out Wendell all other days."
"Wait, I only get Sundays off?" At this, the white cat sat up, scowling slightly. Abelard raised his eyebrows in surprise. He supposed they hadn't actually formally discussed the conditions of Cainan's employment. "Can't I get at least… I don't know, two days off?"
"Two days off?" Abelard scoffed. He'd never heard of such a thing as a five-day work week.
"Yeah, it's not 1912 anymore, people get those now," the Turkish Angora retorted in a rather snarky manner, as though this was obvious. "May as well help this li'l town get with the times, right?"
Abelard wasn't entirely sure he thought this to be a good idea to introduce to Defiance, though he supposed Cainan would know more about these new, radical ideas. It was likely something he had experienced in St. Louis or the other places he'd worked. Cottleville wasn't so far away, was it a concept they had over there? Abelard supposed these new ideas were all the rage in the city, so people could dedicate more time to their self-indulgent vices.
"Well, I'll have you know that not all your workdays will be equal, Cainan…" Abelard said, still fixing the other man with a bit of a scowl. "Not all days require you to be there for the entire day. There won't always be the same amount of things to do for you in the day. But when there is work enough, your days will be like they were today."
"Oh, that's a relief. I think I'd die if I had to do this every single day." Cainan fell back onto the couch again and yawned. Making his way around the couch, Abelard moved to sit in the armchair opposite Cainan, just watching the white cat for a moment. The younger man gave another yawn and Abelard knew that perhaps he ought to keep him talking to better help him stay awake. "So… I did mean to ask, what am I getting paid, exactly?"
"Hmmm, I suppose we never did properly discuss that, did we?" Admittedly, that was a rather big flaw to Abelard. What kind of employer was he to not discuss this beforehand? "You're quite right to ask, Cainan… Hmmm, let's see… For an apprentice, I'd dare say twenty dollars a week ought to do."
"Twenty?" The younger cat screwed up his face in a rather exaggerated manner. "Hm, I don't know, Father Arbogast, that's a bit on the lower end, ain't it?"
"I'll pay you more once Wendell has finished teaching you," Abelard grunted at the younger cat, feeling slightly annoyed by the obnoxiously playful tone coming from him.
"Sounds good to me," he replied, decidedly more cheerful. Cainan cast a glance around the living room, as if seeing it for the very first time, and smiled. "This is a bit weird, I will admit…"
"Hm? What is?"
"Oh, you know… all this, just living in a house – an actual house like this." The white cat gestured around with his hand. "I mostly lived in apartments before… I think some of them were smaller than your kitchen, actually."
"Even the one you lived in when you did well for yourself?" The question seemed to catch Cainan by surprise, which Abelard found curious. The white cat's green eyes glanced down at the floor momentarily.
"Oh, that place was fairly big. Probably…" Cainan properly looked around, he even sat up for a moment, before he laid back down again. "Maybe twice as big as this living room, I think."
Abelard slowly nodded. It was nice talking to Cainan under the more civil circumstances. But still, there was so much he would like to know about their young house guest. However, the real question was how he would go about asking and how he'd get the truth out of Cainan. And Abelard just had to trust that the Turkish Angora would honor their agreement and tell him the truth when he asked. He cleared his throat to get the white cat's attention.
"Say, Cainan…" Using his first name was still something for Abelard to get used to, but he still had a hard time forgetting the rather hurt look on Cainan's face when he'd last used his surname to address him. "I'm curious as to exactly how it was you made your money back when you lived in St. Louis. How did you afford your car? It cannot have been cheap…"
Seemingly caught off-guard once more by the questions, Cainan sat up straight again and stared back at Abelard. "Uh… Well… As I said it was just a bit of gambling…"
"What kind?"
"I- Well…" He averted his gaze, scratching at his cheek fur in a self-conscious manner. Abelard sighed. He supposed he wasn't going to get a straight answer this time around either. Cainan perked up when he heard the sigh, his white, tufted ears on high alert. "Maybe- Would you like to step out for some fresh air?"
"Yes, some air would be nice…" he agreed and rose to his feet. Abelard noticed that Cainan did so with some difficulty. Even his gait appeared rather strained, not unlike how Wendell walked. Abelard hesitated before guiding Cainan to the foyer where the two of them put their shoes and coats back on. The two had barely stepped out before Abelard realized just how dark it was already. The sky had taken on a dark blue color, stars already twinkling above, and the moon too was visible in the mostly clear sky.
"Wait here," he grunted at the younger cat as he stepped out onto the porch. Abelard walked back inside and retrieved the lantern he brought with him to and from church. Lighting the lantern, he stepped back out onto the front porch, his golden-brown fur appearing far more orange in the glow of the kerosene-fueled flame within the lantern. However, when Abelard stepped back out, he did immediately notice that Cainan was nowhere to be seen. "Cainan…?"
"Back here," came the other cat's voice from Abelard's left. He turned and moved towards the sound of Cainan's voice, stepping off the porch and onto the dirt path that led down to the shed nearby. Cainan's voice had come from behind the house and Abelard followed it till he found him in the backyard. The white cat was looking around curiously. Abelard realized he'd never actually been back here, as ar as he knew; Cainan had spent most of his recovery time inside, either sleeping or just resting.
"Ah, there you are," he grunted when he spotted Cainan in the shadow of the Black Oak, the immense tree already making the garden seem even darker than it really was, even with the darkening sky. Those green eyes almost shimmered in the lantern light as Abelard stepped closer to him.
"It's a nice garden you got out here," the younger cat said as he stepped out from under the tree. He cast a glance skyward as did Abelard. The stars weren't yet numerous, but the ones that were out did indeed shine brightly in the sky above. "So… about them questions…"
The change in subject surprised Abelard by how sudden it was, his gaze turning back towards the white cat, whose fur was once more looking remarkably golden in the light of the lantern in his hand. "Yes…?"
"Well, I got by on horse race betting… You know, they do those legally now," Cainan added rather hastily, which only made Abelard raise an eyebrow. The younger cat cleared his throat. "I mean… not that I really did so legally when I did it…"
"I figured as much," Abelard said calmly, just watching him silently, keeping his face neutral, even despite how much he disapproved of this. He didn't want to make Cainan feel like he was being interrogated again. He figured he might get a better result out of him that way.
"Yeah… Look, I'm not really proud of it, but it was all I really could do for a while – and I did it well. It was how I met-" Abelard watched the younger cat as he averted his gaze, glancing out at the nearby cornfields. His face had fallen quite a bit, much to Abelard's surprise, but when Cainan turned back to face him again, he put on a small, perhaps slightly forced smile. "Doesn't matter anymore… but the point is, that's how I made a lot of money real fast."
"Interesting… Hmmm… Well, I cannot say I approve of you partaking in illegal activities like that…" Abelard grunted at him, scowling slightly. Cainan just nodded, his ears laying back against his head. However, Abelard didn't pursue the topic for the moment, though he made a mental note to have a proper discussion about it at a later date.
"So… You ever done anything illegal?" When Cainan asked him, Abelard stared in surprise. He had to admit, he didn't expect the question to be asked… or at least he had hoped it wouldn't be. Cainan smirked when Abelard didn't immediately respond. "Oh-ho? Not so saintly, eh?"
"Watch your tone," Abelard immediately snapped at the Turkish Angora, glaring at him. "I've never partaken in gambling or the like, thank you very much…"
When the younger cat smirked at him, Abelard raised an eyebrow, but Cainan didn't elaborate. Instead, the young cat turned to glance out over the cornfields once more, the stars becoming more numerous and brighter in the sky. "I almost forgot how pretty it is here. Wish I still owned a camera, so I could take a couple pictures."
"It is rather… pretty, I suppose. I guess I'm just so used to the sight, I might not appreciate it as much anymore…" Abelard cast a glance out over the fields as well. He had grown up in this very house, spent almost every day in or around it. Every night he'd see the beautiful night sky above, which especially in summer could become absolutely stunning. As an adult, he hadn't appreciated it as much as he used to. He had plenty of other things on his mind… other responsibilities…
"I missed it a bit – been away from Defiance for so long, you can't really see the stars in the big city." Cainan groaned and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Good Lord, my legs hurt so bad…"
Abelard cleared his throat and scowled at the younger cat. Cainan blinked. Then he seemed to understand. "Oh… Oh, right."
Waiting in silence, Abelard looked at the white cat, who stared back at him, seemingly confused. "Well…?"
"Well what?" Cainan asked, almost chuckling. He had a skeptical look on his face as if he found what Abelard said amusing, somehow. He rolled his eyes, at which point Abelard felt annoyance turn into anger. "You want me to apologize? What difference does it make, if I apologize to you? It's not like it's your name I'm saying in vain…"
Under his fur Abelard felt himself going red in the face, glaring at Cainan as he stepped closer. "It may not be, but I don't want you to casually speak of the Lord in such a manner. It is not a matter of whether it's my name or not, it's simply a matter of respect, Cainan."
The white cat looked rather startled and that was also when Abelard realized just how close he was standing to the younger cat, their faces mere inches apart. Abelard snorted and took a step back, straightening up his back as he still scowled down at Cainan.
"Do we have an understanding, Cainan?" he asked, hoping his tone made it abundantly clear that it wasn't up for debate. The younger cat looked mildly surprised, but ultimately nodded. "Good… Now then…"
"Mind if I ask you something?"
"Feel free to ask," Abelard told the younger cat, quite curious about what Cainan might want to ask him. For once, he wasn't the one asking all the questions.
Cainan smiled, his bushy tail giving a single swish. When a furtive smile showed itself on his face, Abelard braced himself for the worst. Who knew what he might have in mind? Abelard didn't like the position he'd been put in. Given that he had pushed so hard for Cainan to start being honest, he also knew that he was in a bit of a bind now; if he didn't return the favor and answer honestly, who was he to demand that Cainan answer his questions honestly? A hypocrite… that's what he would be.
"So, what do you do besides… preaching and all that reverend business?" A surprisingly innocent question… or rather, a surprisingly innocent question compared to what Abelard might have feared. At least it seemed innocent enough to him. "Got any hobbies or anything?"
"Well, I enjoy reading up in the study when I have the time. I also enjoy going into town. I partake in games of chess with Mr. Weaver fairly regularly. You remember Mr. Weaver?" Abelard asked, genuinely curious. He hadn't been to Defiance General with Cainan, but he wondered if perhaps the old shopkeeper might have stuck in Cainan's memories.
"Ah, Mr. Weaver, yeah… I 'member. Been a long time since I saw him, though," Cainan replied. His tone was rather casual, but Abelard also sensed an underlying tension. He of course knew why the younger cat might be speaking with that tone. He had seen the tension between Cainan and the locals on display.
Of course, at the time, Abelard hadn't thought much of it, but in hindsight he realized that Cainan had been onto something, when it came to his reservations about the inhabitants of Defiance. Mr. Weaver certainly had very few kind words to say about the white cat, so Abelard figured it might be best not to bring Cainan to Defiance General anytime soon. Mr. Lang in the post office likewise hadn't shown much warmth towards Cainan.
"Actually, I was wondering as well… That big, fancy electronic stove and the refrigerator… How much money do you make?" It was a surprisingly sensible thing to ask, one Abelard was surprised Cainan hadn't asked sooner. "I mean, those things can't have been cheap, right? Is there really that much money to be made off the dead?"
"We do not profit off the dead," Abelard snorted at Cainan, who didn't seem convinced. Abelard supposed he wasn't entirely wrong in being skeptical, seeing as it was a business like any other. But he also knew to watch his tongue now; he wasn't planning on telling Cainan where the money really came from – not now, nor ever. "There's a lot of good faith involved for a reverend, Cainan. That is all."
"Ah, so profiting off people's faith, is that it?" the white cat asked, despite Abelard's attempt to bring the conversation to an end. Abelard glared at him. "Alright, I get it, I get it. So… handouts then…"
"Hmmm, well then, may I ask you something, Cainan?" Abelard inquired after what he considered too much silence, neither of them speaking a word for a short while.
"You just did, so I guess you can me something else while you're at it."
Abelard frowned at the young cat, who just chuckled lightly, seemingly amused by his own response. Abelard sighed. In any case… "Have you made any long-term plans about what you're going to do exactly? I assume you do not plan on staying with us indefinitely, do you?"
"Good question… I don't really know, I suppose I'm just going to work here as long as I can," the white cat said, casual as always as he shrugged. He stretched each of his arms, before he walked around the darkening garden. "Or until you get sick of me… Now… How come there ain't a Mrs. Arbogast?"
The question had hit Abelard so suddenly, like a slap to the face that all he could do was momentarily just gawk at Cainan. Abelard was at a loss for what to tell the young cat. "I- I- Well, let's just say I'm not a very domestic man. I have never had time for those sorts of relationships. I devoted my life to the Lord and the Church."
"Ah, so a loner by choice then? That's interesting…"
Abelard raised an eyebrow as he gazed upon the shorter cat before him. He hadn't the faintest clue what he was talking about. "Interesting? How so?"
"Oh, nothing – just surprising is all…" There was something about Cainan's tone that Abelard didn't like. As if he were privy to a secret or something else that he wasn't. "Never been interested in any woman? Anyone at all…?"
"No…" When Abelard saw Cainan's smile he knew for sure something was up. He squinted at the white cat, but before he could utter another word, the living room door swung open and Bobby called them in for dinner. Abelard squinted at Cainan one last time, but he didn't pursue the subject, and just walked with the younger man towards the door where light was pouring out into the night.