Page 59 of The Serpent King

Dill’s father pointed, his face a mask of contempt, and spoke with a perilous hush, his voice trembling with bile. “You are no savior of mine. Do not make yourself a Christ. Christ made me free. You made me a prisoner.”

Dill jumped as his father slammed his hand on the table, a sharp crack in the still room, and stood. “Goodbye, Junior. Give your mother my love.” He waved to the guards, who had tensed up at the noise. “I’m done here.”

He left without a backward glance.

Dill thought—incorrectly, as it turned out—that his exchange with his mother that morning had somehow inoculated him against more pain. He sat in the parking lot, his head in his hands, feeling as gray as the sky. Dr. Blankenship pulled up. “Hey, Dill,” he said with a cheery smile. “Candy cane truffle?”

Dill forced a smile in return. “No, thank you.”

They drove for a while before saying any more.

“I’m sorry I’m not talking, Dr. Blankenship. I don’t mean to be rude.”

“I understand. Don’t worry about it.”

More miles passed. They listened to a Christmas mix on Dr. Blankenship’s iPod.

Dill fought for composure. He assumed that he had a finite reserve of tears that he had already exhausted for the day. Wrong on that count too. He could feel a welling inside him that he couldn’t contain much longer.

“So…um.” He started to lose his grip. He choked back the tears until his throat ached the way it did right after he gulped a glass of ice water. “Things aren’t so hot with me and my dad.” And then he broke completely. He felt naked and ashamed. Adam in the Garden of Eden. But he couldn’t control it anymore.

Dr. Blankenship glanced over at him, his brow furrowed. “Hey,” he said gently. “Hey.” He pulled the car over to the side of the road. Dill had his head against the passenger window, sobs racking his shaking body.

“Hey.” Dr. Blankenship placed his hand on Dill’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

And out of nowhere (at least as far as Dill was concerned), he fell onto Dr. Blankenship’s shoulder. Dr. Blankenship hugged Dill while he cried. Dr. Blankenship smelled like warm cashmere, sage, and dryer sheets. Dill pulled himself together as quickly as he could, which took several minutes.

Dill drew a shuddering breath. He was a mess. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I’m keeping you from getting home. This probably isn’t what you expected when you offered to give me a ride.”

Dr. Blankenship rummaged around for a travel pack of tissues. “Actually, it’s sort of exactly what I expected, which is why I offered you the ride. You want to talk about it?”

Dill wiped his eyes with his palms and accepted a tissue. “Not really.”

“Okay.”

But then he did anyway. “My mom and dad both think I’m responsible for putting my dad in prison because I wouldn’t lie for him. And because he’s in prison, we have all these debts, and because of all these debts, I can’t do a lot of stuff. And my dad thinks my faith is too weak to do anything anyway. I feel trapped. I think God is punishing me.”

Dr. Blankenship sighed. “Let’s take these one at a time. First off, I’m sorry, but your dad’s predicament is not your fault in the slightest. I followed your dad’s trial. I understand why you had to testify. The jury believed you and didn’t believe him. End of story. That’s not on you. That’s on him. And if he tries to put it on you, screw him.”

Dill rested his head in his hands.

Dr. Blankenship rubbed his thumb on the steering wheel, looking uncomfortable. “Sorry. I’m not meaning to be rough on your dad.”

“It’s okay.”

“I get mad when people say that kind of stuff to kids who have their whole life in front of them. Make them doubt themselves. Your faith is plenty strong to do anything you want to do. You think God wants anything for you but your happiness? No way. And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Your dad doesn’t have license to crush your spirit just because he’s your dad.”

Dill sniffled and wiped his nose. Another shuddering breath. “Please don’t tell Lydia about…this.”

Dr. Blankenship patted his shoulder. “If I know my daughter, there’s no way she’d tease you for this. She’d give you the hugs I’m here to give you.”

“Yeah.” Dill paused. “That’s another thing. I’ll really miss Lydia. Like a lot. So I guess that’s another thing that sucks.” His throat constricted.

Dr. Blankenship’s eyes welled with tears. “Aw man, Dill. Look what you did. I’m right there with you, buddy.” His voice quavered. “I’ll miss her too. That sucks for both of us.”

Dill handed him a tissue. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Lydia about…this.”

Dr. Blankenship dabbed his eyes. “Funny thing is, she wouldn’t tease either of us for crying individually. But the two of us, sitting by the side of the road, both crying simultaneously? Over her, no less? We’d never hear the end of it.”