Chapter 49

“You know what?” I said, nodding my head as if in agreement. “Why don’t you take your tombstone, and your grave, and your coffin, and your vault, and your hearing aids, and your suit for Sunday mass, and your Ironman, and your Xbox and all your fucking Xbox games, and all those fucking books I bought you that you never read, and your clothes, and your toothbrush—why don’t you take all of that stuff and just shove the whole lot of it straight up your goddamned ass? Huh? How about that, Beloved Son? Beloved, my ass! If you loved me, you wouldn’t have left me! Are you listening to me now? And why don’t you take your halos and your sunbeams, and your heavenly choirs, and your ‘new, perfect body,’ and your ‘spotless, sinless dress,’ washed in the blood of the fucking Lamb—why don’t you…why…how could you do this? Oh Jesus, God, how could you do this to me? Was I really so bad? You were my little boy. My precious little boy! Why did you leave me like this?”