The Church and Its Orbs - Chapter 6
I'm rewriting my Gemma story, which is tentatively titled The Church and Its Orbs. This is the sixth chapter. The previous chapters are linked below.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
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It’s been over a month since Lila offered me that ridiculous makeover, yet I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s impossible not to roll my eyes at the idea and the skimpy red shirt Lila showed me. There was something...disquieting about her offer and her interactions when Oliver came over.
Getting homework done should actually be easier when Lila isn’t around, but it’s hard to concentrate, because I haven’t talked to my best friend in at least a week. She’s been growing more distant the past month or so -- we’ve only hung out a few times.
Since Lila declined when I asked to come over and study, I’m at my house, and that means Ruby is around. At least she hasn’t bothered me yet.
“Oh, Gemma, isn’t your friend receiving her orb today?” The voice cuts into my thoughts -- of course Ruby would show up right after I started thinking about how she hasn’t been bothering me.
Rubys’ standing in the doorway, which doesn’t lock -- my mom said she didn’t trust me with that level of privacy. I put down my work and turn to look at my sister. She’s smiling, but there’s no warmth in it. It does reach her eyes, but in a way that looks oddly...malicious. Narrowing my own eyes, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Yes, Lila is getting her Testing Orb today,” I mutter. Since her parents are red orbs, I’m not allowed to join her for the official ceremony because I’m not family.
“That’s lovely for her, isn’t it?” Ruby says, entering my room and closing the door behind her. She sits down next to me on the bed.
“Just what are you getting at, Ruby?” I say. “And I didn’t tell you that you could come into my room.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder, causing me to pull myself backwards to get away from her. Her eyes widen slightly. “I’m just trying to be friendly,” she says.
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” I mutter. I turn back to my homework.
“Lila isn’t doing a very good job of being friendly, either, is she? I notice you two haven’t been having lunch together every day,” she murmurs. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice she wears an extremely irritating look of what she probably thinks is concern.
“Since when do you care about my social life?” I grumble, trying to concentrate on my work.
“You would have to have a social life for me to care about it,” she says, her voice filled with enough fake niceness to make me want to push her off the bed.
I turn around again and glare at her. “Leave,” I hiss as my body trembles.
“I offer you the goodwill of a genuine purple orb, and you refuse me? That’s not very Churchly of you,” she mutters, shaking her head.
“Goodwill doesn’t involve blatant insults delivered in a sugary sweet voice,” I say. I push a stay curl out of my eye.
“Maybe you’ll have more of a social life if you get your orb and start attending magic classes. And I’m not trying to insult you,” she says, folding her hands in her lap.
Oh, so it’s an accident every time she says something toxic to me? I highly doubt that, but who would even believe me if I said my own sister was trying to put me down?
* * *
“Blessed are the Church and the gods, for they watch over our souls and provide us the food we eat,” everyone at the table says in unison. Later in the day, my family and I are all standing behind our chairs, with our hands stretched to our sides and our palms facing forward, as if to welcome the gods into our home. Or like we’re about to hug them, which is really odd. I can’t imagine gods actually wanting hugs from any mortals.
After the short prayer is spoken, we all sit down. My dad is at the head of the table, and my mom is to his right. Ruby sits to his left, and I’m next to her, sort of sticking out from the neat three-person configuration. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have nobody at the head of the table and just seat two people on either side?
My mom smiles warmly at my father. “Henry, dear, how was your day?” she asks.
“Stressful,” he mutters. “One of my coworker’s children was caught at his school with another boy. Can you imagine?” His voice drips with disgust. “Bob was too embarrassed to show his face in the office, so I had to handle his job. I have my own work to do, Agnes.”
She puts a hand on his arm. It doesn’t seem to help. Dad’s dark brown eyes are hard as he shakes his head, and I can see how tense his body is. “Bob should have done a better job raising his son,” he says. “Sin hurts more than the sinner.”
“So you’re blaming this one kid for your increased workload?” I say. I didn’t mean to speak aloud, but his statement is confusing me.
My dad gives me a glare powerful enough that I flinch, but I don’t look away from him. “He shamed his father by sinning and refusing treatment for his perversion. Bob’s child ruined his father’s mental state, leaving me to pick up the pieces.”
Somehow, my dad’s logic seems wrong -- I almost think it’s not the kid’s fault if his father couldn’t handle showing up to work. Of course, being a sed is unnatural, but -- aren’t we supposed to carry on in the face of adversity, even when the adversity is as serious as a deviant child?
“It seems awfully...indirect to blame your coworker’s child for your bad day,” I say, still looking Dad in the eye.
“I think it makes perfect sense,” Ruby says, nodding in my dad’s direction.
“As do I,” Mom says. She nods in a way strikingly similar to my sister.
I take a sip of my water because my mouth has gone dry. My thoughts are jumbled, and I can’t seem to organize them properly. Everyone else focuses on me, and their attention becomes an almost physical thing.
“I’m sorry you have such difficulty understanding basic concepts,” Ruby says. “You know, questioning your parents isn’t very Churchly.”
Neither is surreptitiously insulting your sister under the guise of being “concerned” about me. I managed not to say that much out loud, but I do glare at my sister. Unfortunately, Mom notices.
“Be nice to your sister,” she says, her voice tinged with warning.
“Gemma, you could make a little more effort to behave decently,” my dad says. “Ruby is just trying to help you.” His eyes are still hard.
Keeping my mouth shut and limiting myself to glaring is “being nice,” or as close as I can get to it with Ruby right now. If I were not trying to be nice, I would be tempted to call her words that aren’t very Churchly at all. I wouldn’t ever use such terms out loud, but she does make it tempting. Preventing myself from merely thinking inappropriate words is more than I can manage.
I know loyalty to your family is important in the Church -- why does my sister have to make that so trying? “One family, one blood, one bond,” is a popular saying. We’re bonded together, yet I feel so apart from all of my immediate family. It’s wrong to feel that way, but -- would it hurt my sister to show more genuine kindness to me? Would it hurt my parents? If we’re all supposed to “walk the road of righteousness,” together, I would rather have traveling companions who I felt trusted and respected me.
Why is that so much to ask? I wish I knew how to make my family like me better, but I have no answers.
next chapter
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
---------
It’s been over a month since Lila offered me that ridiculous makeover, yet I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s impossible not to roll my eyes at the idea and the skimpy red shirt Lila showed me. There was something...disquieting about her offer and her interactions when Oliver came over.
Getting homework done should actually be easier when Lila isn’t around, but it’s hard to concentrate, because I haven’t talked to my best friend in at least a week. She’s been growing more distant the past month or so -- we’ve only hung out a few times.
Since Lila declined when I asked to come over and study, I’m at my house, and that means Ruby is around. At least she hasn’t bothered me yet.
“Oh, Gemma, isn’t your friend receiving her orb today?” The voice cuts into my thoughts -- of course Ruby would show up right after I started thinking about how she hasn’t been bothering me.
Rubys’ standing in the doorway, which doesn’t lock -- my mom said she didn’t trust me with that level of privacy. I put down my work and turn to look at my sister. She’s smiling, but there’s no warmth in it. It does reach her eyes, but in a way that looks oddly...malicious. Narrowing my own eyes, I cross my arms over my chest.
“Yes, Lila is getting her Testing Orb today,” I mutter. Since her parents are red orbs, I’m not allowed to join her for the official ceremony because I’m not family.
“That’s lovely for her, isn’t it?” Ruby says, entering my room and closing the door behind her. She sits down next to me on the bed.
“Just what are you getting at, Ruby?” I say. “And I didn’t tell you that you could come into my room.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder, causing me to pull myself backwards to get away from her. Her eyes widen slightly. “I’m just trying to be friendly,” she says.
“Well, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” I mutter. I turn back to my homework.
“Lila isn’t doing a very good job of being friendly, either, is she? I notice you two haven’t been having lunch together every day,” she murmurs. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice she wears an extremely irritating look of what she probably thinks is concern.
“Since when do you care about my social life?” I grumble, trying to concentrate on my work.
“You would have to have a social life for me to care about it,” she says, her voice filled with enough fake niceness to make me want to push her off the bed.
I turn around again and glare at her. “Leave,” I hiss as my body trembles.
“I offer you the goodwill of a genuine purple orb, and you refuse me? That’s not very Churchly of you,” she mutters, shaking her head.
“Goodwill doesn’t involve blatant insults delivered in a sugary sweet voice,” I say. I push a stay curl out of my eye.
“Maybe you’ll have more of a social life if you get your orb and start attending magic classes. And I’m not trying to insult you,” she says, folding her hands in her lap.
Oh, so it’s an accident every time she says something toxic to me? I highly doubt that, but who would even believe me if I said my own sister was trying to put me down?
* * *
“Blessed are the Church and the gods, for they watch over our souls and provide us the food we eat,” everyone at the table says in unison. Later in the day, my family and I are all standing behind our chairs, with our hands stretched to our sides and our palms facing forward, as if to welcome the gods into our home. Or like we’re about to hug them, which is really odd. I can’t imagine gods actually wanting hugs from any mortals.
After the short prayer is spoken, we all sit down. My dad is at the head of the table, and my mom is to his right. Ruby sits to his left, and I’m next to her, sort of sticking out from the neat three-person configuration. Wouldn’t it make more sense to have nobody at the head of the table and just seat two people on either side?
My mom smiles warmly at my father. “Henry, dear, how was your day?” she asks.
“Stressful,” he mutters. “One of my coworker’s children was caught at his school with another boy. Can you imagine?” His voice drips with disgust. “Bob was too embarrassed to show his face in the office, so I had to handle his job. I have my own work to do, Agnes.”
She puts a hand on his arm. It doesn’t seem to help. Dad’s dark brown eyes are hard as he shakes his head, and I can see how tense his body is. “Bob should have done a better job raising his son,” he says. “Sin hurts more than the sinner.”
“So you’re blaming this one kid for your increased workload?” I say. I didn’t mean to speak aloud, but his statement is confusing me.
My dad gives me a glare powerful enough that I flinch, but I don’t look away from him. “He shamed his father by sinning and refusing treatment for his perversion. Bob’s child ruined his father’s mental state, leaving me to pick up the pieces.”
Somehow, my dad’s logic seems wrong -- I almost think it’s not the kid’s fault if his father couldn’t handle showing up to work. Of course, being a sed is unnatural, but -- aren’t we supposed to carry on in the face of adversity, even when the adversity is as serious as a deviant child?
“It seems awfully...indirect to blame your coworker’s child for your bad day,” I say, still looking Dad in the eye.
“I think it makes perfect sense,” Ruby says, nodding in my dad’s direction.
“As do I,” Mom says. She nods in a way strikingly similar to my sister.
I take a sip of my water because my mouth has gone dry. My thoughts are jumbled, and I can’t seem to organize them properly. Everyone else focuses on me, and their attention becomes an almost physical thing.
“I’m sorry you have such difficulty understanding basic concepts,” Ruby says. “You know, questioning your parents isn’t very Churchly.”
Neither is surreptitiously insulting your sister under the guise of being “concerned” about me. I managed not to say that much out loud, but I do glare at my sister. Unfortunately, Mom notices.
“Be nice to your sister,” she says, her voice tinged with warning.
“Gemma, you could make a little more effort to behave decently,” my dad says. “Ruby is just trying to help you.” His eyes are still hard.
Keeping my mouth shut and limiting myself to glaring is “being nice,” or as close as I can get to it with Ruby right now. If I were not trying to be nice, I would be tempted to call her words that aren’t very Churchly at all. I wouldn’t ever use such terms out loud, but she does make it tempting. Preventing myself from merely thinking inappropriate words is more than I can manage.
I know loyalty to your family is important in the Church -- why does my sister have to make that so trying? “One family, one blood, one bond,” is a popular saying. We’re bonded together, yet I feel so apart from all of my immediate family. It’s wrong to feel that way, but -- would it hurt my sister to show more genuine kindness to me? Would it hurt my parents? If we’re all supposed to “walk the road of righteousness,” together, I would rather have traveling companions who I felt trusted and respected me.
Why is that so much to ask? I wish I knew how to make my family like me better, but I have no answers.
next chapter