It didn’t add up.

James pulled into the diner parking lot and then headed inside for a meal. He supposed he should go home, check in with his sister. She had told him they’d normally be eating dinner about now, but he just wanted to be alone to sort things out in his mind without subjecting anyone else to his clouded mind and inconstant mood. From high to low, from doubt and fear to laughter and being uplifted, his mind was a mess of roiling emotions which he’d still not sorted out, despite talking to Pastor Barrow. Uncertainty dogged his thoughts, his heart and mind warring with each other as they tried to still the troubled waters within.

The warmth inside the diner was punctuated by Christmas music tinkling in the background from the overhead speakers. Quiet chatter joined the chorus from the few occupied tables. He took note of the table of teenagers in the back corner as he took a seat a few booths and a row over. He recognized the one girl from the ball park…and the suicide house. James let out a deep breath wrought with sadness, and then he smiled at Loretta, and ordered steak and potatoes without looking at the menu. He might not know much these days, but at least he knew what he wanted for dinner.

Before he realized any time had passed, Loretta set a plate in front of him. Absently, he nodded his thanks before silently thanking God for the food. There it was again…that old habit that evidently did die hard. Maybe the pastor was right. Maybe God hadn’t forsaken James, and maybe deep down James knew it. Why else would he keep speaking to the invisible and non-existent Being?

Faltering faith. It was not a situation that had ever crossed his mind in the early days. Oh, sure, he had a few moments of being a doubting Thomas, despite the miracles he’d witnessed when the Lord stepped into someone’s life, but he never thought he’d be in a position to deny the God he served. But the silence in his heart was deafening…so deafening that it had obliterated the very passion that had sustained him all these years. Where are You, God? Why have You forsaken me? But he wasn’t here to worry about his troubles, not really. He was here to sort out Travis’s problems, and maybe make peace with his dad, with the town, and then start his own new life.

He glanced over his shoulder at the group of teens huddled at the table in the corner. Their low voices and sullen faces reminded him so much of Ian. Was there something in the water in Kipling, these days, or was it everywhere? Brooding seemed to be synonymous with teenager. He’d been emotionally withdrawn at that age, too, but he’d always assumed it was because of the death of his mother. Surely not every teen in Kipling had endured such loss.

The fire. Oh, right: The fire had affected the town in its entirety. And this group had also lost one of their own in a violent way. Still…