Ayanna, unsure of what to do, treated the area in back with candles and statues like it was a small museum gallery. She stuck her fingers into the holy water, remembered to make a cross, and for a moment, it felt like her mother and sister were in the vestibule talking to other congregants while she was left to explore. All the lit candles were in long blue containers, and Ayanna wondered what that was about. An organist was practicing for the next Mass, a song Ayanna remembered from going to services on and off over the years with her mom and Olivia. It was a song about eagles, maybe? It seemed impossible for anyone who was not truly talented at singing to hit all the notes, but the melody made Ayanna’s eyes feel a little fuller.

One of the things she liked least about churches was that they tended to be places where spirits liked to congregate. Before, it had been one of the few places where there was no effort. There were so many dead that the rooms in a church were always glowing and pink to Ayanna. The dead seemed to like to follow their routines: grocery stores, liquor stores, churches, gas stations, hospitals, bingo halls, and fast-food restaurants, most often Wendy’s. In this church, they were interspersed throughout the rows, present enough that to Ayanna the air felt a little thicker. A spirit was sitting directly in front of Jane, but neither noticed the other.

A statue of Jesus presided over the lit candles, his carved hair lush and voluminous, his eyes blank in the white marble, his nose perfectly unremarkable. He had cheekbones and a chin that would make him always get noticed in a crowd. Ayanna thought, as she continued looking at the statue, that everyone rendered Jesus conventionally attractive, not just because he was in charge and everyone wanted to listen more to handsome people, not just because it would maybe feel a little blasphemous to render God’s son as a real uggo, but because maybe it felt like a bigger deal if Jesus was hot and he decided to never have sex. They wanted to give people no room to say “Well, look at him, of course he was celibate.”

“Do you want to light a candle?”

“I shouldn’t,” Ayanna immediately said. “I don’t go here.”

She turned, realized what she’d said was weird, put her hand over her mouth. A priest was standing next to her. He was the youngest priest she had ever seen. Black with skin so moisturized and perfect, it felt like she was in a Catholic-church-themed photoshoot. Sell perfume with your holiest face. He was smiling and his teeth were a brighter white than his robe. He fished around for something in his pockets and pulled out a lighter. It was cheap and decorated with a polar bear wearing sunglasses. Jane used a matching one to light joints.