Season 3 Episode 4: The Buried Mother

Jade – Ashley McAnelly
Corey – David Kurze
Laura – Erika Sanderson
Maureen – Erin Lillis
Roz – Jessica McEvoy
Hanna – SH Cooper
Sam – Nichole Goodnight

I thought I was ready for this. I thought finally, finally those bitches have to tell me the truth about that night. No more vague she lived a hero she died a hero bullshit. I was ready to check my anger to get through this, to have some real answers about the night my mother died.

But I wasn’t ready for Laura to be leading the class.

“Welcome, initiates, to your first class as a full member and your last class separated from the rest of the coven. Tonight we will be celebrating your success with a little bit more information on a topic you were…given the broad strokes on, so you had an idea of what we as a coven do and to know what may be asked of you, should you rise to an office in the coven.”

Maureen, Roz, and Rachel are on either side of me. They made a bee-line to me as soon as I got to the circle to tell me the small change in plan. Since Laura is the new High Priestess, it’s only logical she takes over the duties as such. To their credit, Roz and Maureen asked if that was okay or if I wanted to hear it from them. After thinking about it I agreed to still listen to Laura with the class because to my knowledge, Laura was there that night to see it all unfold. But I wonder just how much venom she’s going to put in the retelling, specifically to spite me.

Queue Maureen and Roz staying close to help regulate me with the truth that Laura may shroud in a dark light – to immediately whisper to me she’s baiting me and to also intervene in Laura’s telling if needed. Laura knows the bylaws and should be trying her damndest to be a good High Priestess, but that won’t stop her from poking at me if she gets the chance. Hell, Roz did it too, but Roz at least had a line. I’m not sure Laura does.

“Roz and Maureen taught you the long and stoic history of this coven, that we stand as one of the pillars of light in the darkness. One of those forces of darkness is not far from here, and we have been steadfast as a sentinel to that particular entity. It’s time you learn who that is, what they are capable of, and exactly what we do to stop it.”

“She is called the Buried Mother. We do not know for certain how long she has been here, but she revealed herself during the Second Crusade. Her followers brought her to the New World, and once the colonies pushed past the west, she made her home here in the Boston Mountains. A central point between the Rockies and the Appalachians. Something keeps her tethered to mountains. We theorize that her power is seated in their towering forces, her voice carrying high through the winds down into the valleys below, seducing more people to follow her.

“She enjoyed the bloodshed of our Civil War, and the corruption of the Reconstruction. But that’s when our coven came into the picture, the Sisters of Hecate. We sensed the danger lurking behind the facade of our neighbor’s faces, their actions not their own. Unearthing the source of the evil driving the dark in their hearts, we found the Buried Mother. We were not powerful enough alone. And so we set out to find other communities troubled by her influence. Ten of us were chosen to represent our groups. These ten joined in a covenant to seal the Buried Mother away deep in the earth, in the mountains she so loves to cling to. But her power cannot be contained forever, and so every seven years the covenant must meet and perform the sealing ceremony again. That is our duty as a coven. The high priestess and two others are chosen to be the Sister of Hecate’s representatives in the ceremony. In case the worst is to happen, our coven does not offer up all 3 of our highest officials. The high priestess, her priestess, and one other sister deemed strong enough for the task are selected. That will not be you for years, and it may never be you, but you deserve to know what may be required, and the dangers that we keep at bay.”

Laura takes a breath and the young girls take that as their queue to ask questions.

(Hanna) “What kind of power does the Buried Mother have?”

“That akin to a goddess who walks among her people, though she will never be one we worship. Her temple seeps with tar and disease, her followers, while forever living, live a life in the shadows. She has her champion, who unfortunately does not steer far from her, who waits near Hawksbill Crag for her to be set free.”

(Sam) “What happens if the sealing ceremony fails? Is there anything we can do?”

Laura looks at me for a long moment before turning her gaze back to Sam. Shit, this is it.

“The ceremony has failed before. It is an eventuality. The last time it failed was in 2007. The Buried Mother’s strength was too strong for the sealing ceremony then, as the seal had weakened too much to be merely reinforced and renewed by the spell. It was the summer solstice when the ceremony failed, and we lost our high priestess.”

“Emma Allbright saw early signs that the seal was breaking, but the covenant refused to heed her warning and proceeded as planned with their scheduled ceremony. By the time they all gathered, it was too late. Still, they tried the spell and during the casting, several lives were lost that night. But the only one from our coven was Emma, when she sacrificed herself, invoking our fail safe, to create a new seal and put the Buried Mother in the ground once more.”

Laura pauses and looks at me. There’s a weight in her gaze, whether pity or spite I’m not sure, but whatever she’s about to say, she knows it’s important to me, or at the very least, I won’t like it.

“By doing so, she became the next vessel for the Buried Mother. Her body now timeless, living forever as one of her followers, but with an even emptier life than that the Buried Mother offers her disciples. The Buried Mother can never take her true form in this world, supposedly another sign that she is a goddess, so she always had to borrow bodies. With the failsafe, Emma was able to force the entity into her body. It was with her sacrifice that the Buried Mother was entombed once more, and since then we have not made the same mistake. [SFX: this last sentence slowly fades and Jade’s thoughts trail off.] Though it does take some research before a decision is made for the covenant to come together for a ceremony before their scheduled time…”

Her words fade into the ringing in my ears slowly growing. Roz and Maureen tense, their eyes on me. Roz raises a hand to touch me but stops mid-motion, thinking better of it. She’s smart. If she touched me right now I might punch her.

“My mother has been down in that hole with the Buried Mother for almost two decades…alive?”

[Intro Roll In]

Laura is smart enough to call for a break once she sees my rage seething below my skin. I tremble with it, but am trying very hard not to be the wicked witch of the south that they think I will be. But damn it, I deserve some of my rage.

Maureen and Roz herd me towards the front with Laura while the rest of the class murmur. Sam’s in a crowd with her friends, and I know by the glance she throws me she’s trying to quell their curiosity because their questions are all about my mother. I love her and hate her for it.

I get up to the front, barely containing my anger.

“My mother has been alive all this time and you didn’t tell me?”

(Maureen) “That’s not your mother anymore–”

“Do you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my mother’s soul isn’t trapped in there with her? Swear to me on the Mother and I’ll believe you.”

A double whammy on Maureen, because I know there’s no way to know for certain and I know she would rather eat worms than swear on the Mother about anything. To the Christian God, maybe, but not the Mother.

Her silence is answer enough, now it’s Roz’s steps toward me to try to reign me in.

“It doesn’t matter. Your mother made her choice, she sacrificed herself to save all of us from the darkness the Buried Mother would sweep across these mountains and beyond. We would not dare make her sacrifice in vain.”

“There’s got to be a way–”

“Do you really think we didn’t consider it? Fight tooth and nail to come up with a plan that didn’t doom us to save her? She would kill us if we undid the good she cemented for us. You know that. You know what it would feel like to give up everything just for everyone else to be safe. If Sam came and undid the good you’ve done, you’d raise hell.”

That’s an analogy I was not expecting her to use against me. This topic is so rooted in the past, I didn’t expect her to use some of the present to cool my temper. Damn woman, it does work a bit. But she’s fighting against 16 years of rage I’ve been letting simmer on and off. It won’t be undone that easily.

But I just remembered something else, another thread connecting the present to the past.

“Sam. Sam was the reason you weren’t there that night. You were with your sister at the hospital in Fayetteville, waiting for her to be delivered.”

“You already knew that.”

“Yeah but, but I didn’t–”

(softly, pitying) “Oh, Jade.”

I never put two and two together. Yes, I’ve known Sam is Roz’s niece. Yes, Roz and I were friends up until that night, so I knew her sister was having a baby. But until this moment, it never dawned on me that Sam was born the night my mother died. Not died, was taken from me. I never realized how ingrained Sam was into how my life changed that night. If Sam hadn’t been born, Roz would have been there for me, and maybe our friendship would have been able to survive that night. That’s a big maybe, but it was a maybe that was taken away because Sam came into the world.

I shake that revelation away and focus on my mother. I take a moment and let them stare at me while I try to keep my cool. Still, my words are charged with venom that I am happy to relay to them.

“Do you understand all the evil you caused? The blood spilled, staining my hands. Horrific things you probably don’t even know came to pass over and through and by me, all because of the decision you made. If you would have told me the truth, included me in the discussions trying to figure out what to do…”

(Roz) “Do you really think that would have made a difference?”

“Yes! I wouldn’t have felt so abandoned and betrayed!”

Everyone’s eyes are on us now. Damn it. I will not cry. I will not.

“What happened that night Maureen?”

(Laura) “You just heard me–”

I put my hand in her face and step closer to Maureen. I don’t want her summary, her lecture on the coven’s commitment and the dangers of that commitment. I want to know exactly how it went down that night, and Maureen knows this. I thought Laura would reveal those details to the group as a whole, but she didn’t. I need to know. And honestly, I need to hear it from Maureen. I’ve been playing too nice, trying to show them I’m not that horrifying monster of a person they thought I was, but I also deserve the truth. And I deserve it from Maureen.

Maureen meets my eyes, finally ready to tell me. But as she starts speaking I know her eyes don’t see me. They’re focused on that moment so many years ago that she’s seeing that night instead of what’s in front of her.

“The ceremony to recharge the seal had failed, so did the protection circle. It all happened so fast. The Buried Mother wasted no time. I was beside your mother, Beattie on the other side of her. The other members started to fall, with every death she took in their life force to strengthen her power. Your mother, aunt, and I were strong enough to set the protection circle again, but just as we completed it, your mother pushed us out. We did not dare break the circle for fear of letting the Buried Mother out, and honestly we weren’t sure how long it would last. But your mother left us little choice, and had to act fast. There was no hesitation in her, she had already decided on what she had to do.

There isn’t a strong enough word to convey what your aunt was feeling. Destroyed doesn’t even cover it. She begged your mother not to do this, but in the end all she could do, all any of us could do, was watch and lend our energy to her, to make sure the failsafe spell worked.”

I swallow the burning lump in my throat. Maureen steps closer. My grief must overtake the fire in my gaze, because she dares to raise a hand to press against my cheek.

“If I was able to go back and redo it, I honestly don’t know if I would do much different. I know then that I thought I was doing what I could to protect you, and protect what your mother wanted. But when you turned to the darkness, I feared there was no saving you. Even when Beattie brought you back, I thought you were lost to us for good. I’m glad to have hope now that I was wrong. Please do not use this as a reason to turn away again. There is so much good to be done here, that your mother would be so proud to see you lead.”

I let myself lean into her hand for a moment. I, will, not, cry.

“You still should have told me, but thank you for saying that. I think I’ve heard enough for now.”

(Roz) “I can open the circle for you.”

“Please do.”

Following Roz to the edge of the circle, I know there will be talk about me. Gossip will fly and Sam will undoubtedly try to defend me. I wish I could tell her not to bother. But as Roz cuts the circle of protection open to let me through. As I step out, I’m already thinking about what I decided a long time ago. What has to be done, in order for the coven to set things right for leaving my mother to make the sacrifice herself. Because if she’s alive, that changes everything.

Because if she’s alive, I’ll need a new plan.

——

[SFX: doorbells jingle as front door opens]

“Hello, welcome to Which Way Between the Lines. How can I help you today?”

“Hi, I saw your billboard off of I-40 and thought I would stop by and see if you have the books I’ve been trying to find.”

“Oh, glad that ad is still worth its monthly rent. What books do you need?”

“I can’t recall each books name, but they are in a series, something. My girlfriend made a joke about the main character being a wannabe Jesus.”

“That..does not narrow it down. In what way are they a wannabe Jesus?”

“They could turn water into…something other than wine. I can’t remember clearly. But it wasn’t a religious vibe. I think the character was more like an Indiana Jones type, but with magic tied into the spelunking old tombs?”

“Ah, would that be water into vinegar?”

“Yes! Now that you mention it, that sounds right.”

“Sounds like the Vela series by Amelia Cole.”

“Bela Series! I knew there was some tie to Twilight.”

“Vela not Bela.”

“Oh, so more Scooby-Do, Velma, less Twilight.”

“I like the way your brain works.”

“It keeps me entertained most days and my friends looking at me like I’m a weirdo.”

“Normal is vastly overrated. Anywho, I have the second book, Bridge of Eternity, but will have to order Breaker of Mountains for you if you want both.”

“I’m only passing through, could you have them ship it to my address?”

“Can do.”

Embark on a breathtaking adventure in the Vela Series by Amelia Cole. Alongside Ella Dawson, a tenacious photojournalist who stumbles upon hidden magical realms and discovers a newfound power from a mysterious enchanted statue. Faced with the daunting task of preventing an otherworldly gate from unleashing chaos and destruction upon the world, Ella enlists the help of her enigmatic ex-boyfriend, Jason, a fearless secret agent. Globe-trot with them through treacherous landscapes and ancient ruins as they unravel mystical secrets from a long-forgotten past spanning over five thousand years. This gripping tale is a perfect blend of magic, mystery, and intrigue that will leave you on the edge of your seat. Link in the show notes.

—

I haul myself off of the couch in the store, not even pretending to work. Everything I had learned about my mother the night before has been swirling in my mind, my focus bouncing between what to do when it comes time for the ceremony, and what it will mean if she’s alive. I gave up on productivity and let myself stew all afternoon.

“Can I help you?”

I took in the man before me, tall and muscled in a way that spoke of an athlete whose prime was years ago but nobody bothered to tell them. The small paunch of his belly strained the dark polo shirt he wore, the first sign of an alcohol-induced decline.

“Yeah, do you do the readings? I mean, the tarot stuff?”

“Yes, I do the tarot readings here. Are you interested in a reading right now?”

Relief washes over his eyes at my words.

“Yes. Thank god, yes.”

I half-heartedly wave him back towards the reading room. I wasn’t intending on doing anything remotely important today, but it seems like the world has other plans for me.

I watch him as he steps through the vervain, the leaves remaining green and lush. When he takes his seat at the table, I turn to grab my deck.

“My name is Jade. What questions do you have for the cards today?”

“I’m Corey. And I’m not really sure. I’ve just had some… weird things happen to me lately, and I don’t know how to find out why.”

“What kind of weird things?”

“People keep telling me they’ve seen me around town when I don’t remember being out, or that they heard I was at clubs that I’ve never been to, things like that. I thought it was just pranks, you know? My friends do stuff like that sometimes, and I can see them working together to try to convince me that I’ve gone crazy, that I’m sleepwalking or something and that’s why I don’t remember what they’re talking about. But then I saw the video.”

“A video? Of you out somewhere that you don’t remember going?”

An icy chill slides down my back, circling the spot on my ribs that had bothered me so much last year. I hadn’t heard from the Devil or Stephen since the night at the Arlington. What if they’ve decided that they aren’t done with me yet? Goddamnit, Maureen, will the repercussions of your silence about my mother ever end? None of this would have happened if I had been told immediately about her supposed sacrifice.

“Yeah. Here, hold on, I’ll show you.”

He pulls out his phone, kept safe in a battered case, and taps the screen a few times before turning it around. It’s some sort of surveillance footage, taken from the outside of a store. As the video plays I can see Corey, clear as day, walking up to the front door and casually smashing the glass with his elbow. He doesn’t look around as he reaches in and unlocks the door, disappearing from the camera’s view as he goes inside. Moments later he walks back out, arms full of boxes of tech equipment – computers, tablets, and phones from what I can determine through the grainy footage. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look suspicious at all as he walks unhurriedly down the street.

I look up at the man holding the phone.

“And you don’t remember any of this?”

He shakes his head, avoiding looking at his image on the screen as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“No. Thank god Joe came to find me before going to the cops with this video, but I don’t have an answer for him. When he told me what time this happened, I would have sworn on my life that I was at home watching The Office. But seeing my face on that camera, how dead in the eyes I look…. I just don’t know anymore.”

He looks over at me, his blue eyes alive and scared.

“Have you gone anywhere unusual lately? Met anyone strange, or found yourself somewhere you don’t remember going?”

I try to shuffle the cards nonchalantly, but I am too focused on him, on his answers. A few slip through my fingers and slide across the table as I pray to the Goddess that this isn’t a return of that demonic entity that tormented me from my own basement. I haven’t sensed him nearby, but maybe he was lying in wait, sending in plants like Corey to get close…?

“No, nothing like that. I barely go anywhere anymore. Every time someone says they saw me somewhere, I remember where I was at the time, and I was always home alone. Sometimes I remember I was watching tv, or napping, or working out, but I always have some memory of what I was doing, and it wasn’t this.”

He gestures to his phone, to the video.

“Did your friends mention talking to you when they see you out?”

“Some of them, yeah. They said I seemed kind of out of it, like I was drunk, but I responded like I normally would. My buddy Brian actually was pissed with me for a while because he invited me to a party when he saw me out, and then I never showed up. But I swear, I had no idea about it. I finally convinced him that I was just too drunk to remember, even though I’ve been sober six months now.”

His gaze drops to the table at the words, embarrassed. I set the cards down and laid a hand on his arm.

“Congratulations. That takes a lot of inner strength.”

“Thanks. That’s part of why this is all so hard, you know? They all think I’m just an alcoholic loser who forgets about seeing them when I’m out, but that’s not me. Not anymore. But I can’t convince them that that’s the truth, because I don’t know what’s true or not anymore.”

“Let’s see if the cards can shine some light here.”

I swallow the fear that Stephen is still behind all of this and turn over Corey’s first card. A man with an upraised hand stares back at me from the reverse position, an infinity sign hovering over his head like a warped halo.

“The Reversed Magician. This points to some kind of illusion or trickery, someone using manipulation for selfish gain.”

My heart thuds in my chest, and I can almost hear his name in every beat. Ste-phen. Ste-phen. Ste-phen. But this guy passed the vervain check. Am I just paranoid, looking for signs of his return where they really aren’t? But since I know what demon possessed him, I know I’ll see him sooner or later. He’ll come for the deck once it returns to me. If it returns to me. Or try for the last card again.

“That’s kind of funny. I just saw a magic show a few weeks ago.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“What kind of magic show?”

He waves a hand at me and leans back in his chair.

“It was this hypnotist guy. The Amazing Andy or some shit. Kept bringing people on the stage and making them squawk like a bird or do jumping jacks. Nothing really amazing. My sponsor took me. Said that it would be a good way to be around alcohol but not have that be the focus of the evening. I was honestly more tempted to drink after watching that terrible show than I was before going.”

“Did he hypnotize you?”

“He tried. The man was desperate for volunteers, so I went up there. He had a pocket watch out and waved it in front of my face a few times, just like he did with all of the other volunteers, but nothing happened. He had a really soothing voice, though, which is why I raised my hand in the first place. I thought maybe it would work. I’ve heard of hypnotists helping addicts with their cravings, so part of me thought that if he could hypnotize me to act like a dog, then maybe I could ask him to try again with getting alcohol out of my mind.”

“Was this before or after the incidents started happening?”

His eyes turn to the ceiling as he scans his memory.

“Before, I think? I don’t remember anyone saying anything to me about it before that show, but there could have been something that happened that no one has told me about. Do you think he did something to me?”

A tentative relief floods my body. If this hypnotist is responsible for his missing memories…

“The cards certainly believe that someone is pulling the wool over your eyes, and my money right now is on that hypnotist. Let’s see what else they can tell us.”

I flip over the second card. Two of Swords; a difficult decision, where someone must intervene.

Shit. This is going to involve a little bit more than a basic reading, and I doubt there’s someone else who can intervene in a situation like this one.

“The Two of Swords. This card is saying that you need some help, that someone must intervene for you. I would suggest staying with a trusted friend for a while, have them watch you to make sure you don’t go all five finger discount again until you can get a clear answer.”

“What? I just stay with a friend and hope for the best? Who is supposed to intervene for me when we don’t even know what’s going on? What kind of a solution is that?”

“A temporary one. Look.”

I reveal the last card, knowing where they are heading before I even see the young man struggling to carry a bundle of swords.

“Seven of Swords. This is all about deception and strategy, using backdoor tactics.”

“That sounds like something a hypnotist would be good at.”

“It sure does. These cards together are pointing at the hypnotist having done something to your brain, possibly implanted a code word deep down that you can respond to when he’s not around, or maybe some kind of timing system to have you do his bidding. It doesn’t matter how he’s doing it, really. All that matters is that he stops. And soon, before your life is truly in shambles.”

So I have to outwit a hypnotist before he ruins my life? How do I do that when he’s got access to my brain?”

“(sighing) Because I’m going to help you.”

“How? Can you get him out of my head?”

“Not without killing him.”

I pause, but Corey doesn’t laugh. It wasn’t really a joke, anyway.

“Kidding. I’m going to confront him. I’ll find out where his next show is and go talk to him, preferably beforehand so he can’t slip away immediately. I’ll let him know that I know what he did to you, and tell him to cut his game and get out of town.”

He looks me up and down, skeptical.

“No offense, but you’re not that scary. How are you going to get him to stop?”

“I’ll tell him I have ties to the mob, and that I’ll send them after him if he doesn’t listen to me.”

“Do you have ties to the mob?”

“Not anymore. They’re too afraid to talk to me now.”

I give him a wicked smile and his eyes go wide. I gesture for him to stand up before sweeping the cards off of the table and following him out of the reading room. This bit of revenge might be a little too fun for me. At the very least, I’ll be able to blow off some steam when I drain the Amazing Andy dry.

Corey is silent as I ring him up for the reading, handing me his card to run without a word. Before he heads out the door, though, he turns back to me.

“Do you swear you can handle him?”

“Oh honey, you have no idea how much I need to handle a prick like Amazing Andy right now as a distraction. I’ll take care of it.”

“Are… are you going to hurt him?”

“Not if he listens.”

Corey just gives me a small bob of his head and practically runs out the door, the bells jingling in his wake.

I smile as I sidle up to the computer behind the desk, googling Amazing Andy. It looks like he’s got a show tonight at the Convention Center. I can get there before he goes on if I leave right now.

Good. I’m in the mood for some vengeance, even if it can’t be my own.

I quickly begin my closing up routine, dumping the old coffee and locking up the reading room.

[SFX: Bells jingling]

“Corey, I promise I will get this taken care of tonight. Don’t wor–”

But the man standing in the doorway isn’t the fading victim of a hypnotist.

I’m stopped dead in my tracks when I see him. The tall, slightly slouched form of a man clearly getting on in years. The salt and pepper, mostly salt now, coloration of both his hair and goatee, the blacker notes of which fight for dear life to hold on. The deep grooved lines etched into his face and under his eyes, showing a past of hearty smiles and many a night spent without sleep. The same long, faded brown coat that accompanies him everywhere, like a wool and polyester suit of armor, neatly laying over a white dress shirt and black slacks.
He’s gone by many names. The Reclaimer, Gabriel’s Shield, The False Prophet, The Golden Soldier, all of which are, or were once correct. The only name that mattered to me, he lost a long time ago.

We lock eyes for what feels like days, the front doors closing being the only thing pulling me back into reality, not that it changes anything. I still stand and stare at him for longer than is probably polite, analyzing every intricacy of his features and form as if to confirm to myself, over and over, that what I’m seeing is real.

“Hello, Jade.”

His voice has barely changed, still that low, scratchy base that used to comfort me in the past, though age seems to have made it… weaker. It’s hard to explain, but there’s a sort of emptiness in it, as if the charm and life it once had has long since left. Huh, long since left. How fitting.

Hearing his voice now does anything but comfort me, as with every word he speaks, I feel the emotion well up inside of me. Who does he think he is? Walking in here after all this time? There’s venom on my words as I respond to him, hoping that every syllable feels like a punch to the gut.

“What the hell are you doing here, Efrain?”

His eye twitches and his coy smile falls a bit when I use his name, or maybe it’s the cussing. Who knows what kind of terrible image he created of me in his head, how this moment would go. It’s a moment I never wanted to have to live through, and I’ll be damned if I’m going through it right now.

“I’m closing shop for the night. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t spare just one minute for–”

“Nope.”

The smile comes back, and I want to smack it off his smug face.

“Ever the stubborn little one.”

“Do not talk to me like I’m a little girl, Efrain. Do not talk like you have any sense as to who I am.”

I push past him and open the front door, turning the sign to closed and flipping the lights off. I look at him, holding the door open to get him out. Then the smell hits me. That same, Jóvan 37 brand cologne that I still get whiffs of in my mothers room, filling the room like a noxious toxin.

“You asked me why I am here. I was called here, Jade.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“No one in the state of Arkansas would call for you.”

“God is everywhere and nowhere, Jade, you know that.”

Sam’s damn Hierophant card flashes in my mind. Son of a bitch. He must be the male authoritative figure she saw coming with her reading. But I don’t have time, let alone the energy for this. Between finally getting some answers about what happened that night with my mother, realizing Sam seems fated to be in my life from the moment she was born, trying to still help others to push away the memories of all the ones I’ve hurt, and now Efrain decides to show up? No, I’m not doing this right now.

“If you’re not coming out, I’m locking you in.”

Efrain practically falls into a seat at the table near the door.

“I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”

“Even if I’m gone for days?”

“I need nothing but the body of Christ and His will to live.”

I slam the door shut behind me and lock it as quickly as I can, having no response to his comment but repulsion. I thought Uncle Dale’s self-righteousness is overwhelming, but Efrain’s seems to be on a whole other level.

But that’s most Dads, right?

This episode was written by Ashley McAnelly and Morgan Valko

Featuring the voice talents of Ashley McAnelly, David Kurze, Erika Sanderson, Erin Lillis, Jessica McEvoy, Nelson Albrego, S.H. Cooper, and Nichole Goodnight

Theme music by ThaArsonist

Produced by Scott Thomas