The pastor’s son finds the dead raccoon during the church barbeque. Out beyond the field where the congregation is gathered, eating various potato casseroles, and burgers his father grills to order, just where the trees start but before the creek where Charlie Randall tried to drown him and told everyone they were playing baptism, he finds the creature unmoving. At first he thinks it’s asleep. It looks so peaceful the pastor’s son is jealous and he wonders if he’s ever felt as tranquil as the raccoon. He pokes it with a stick and it doesn’t move so he prays for the soul of the raccoon. Nothing happens so he starts to dig.
Weeks later, the pastor’s son is fishing with his father, waders pressed tight against his jeans by the flowing water. His father is in a good mood having just caught a nice big Rainbow after only snagging Brookies all morning. The pastor’s son has yet to catch anything.
They take a break and sit on the shore.
Do animals have souls? the pastor’s son asks.
Fish? No. Don’t worry about the fish. They can’t feel anything.
The pastor’s son wasn’t asking about the fish, but now he’s intrigued. Is that how you can tell if something has a soul, if it feels pain?
What? Why are you worried about what has a soul and what doesn’t?
The pastor’s son examines the water. Just curious.
His father nods but is looking at him in a new way. It’s not a bad way, but it’s not good either. He grabs their fishing poles. Let’s switch over to Prince Nymphs. See if we can get something on your line.
After Sunday school where the children learned about Lazarus and resurrection, the pastor’s son, already well aware of the story, heads back to where he buried the raccoon. It’s no longer there, and though he’s old enough to know about scavengers, and he’s heard the coyotes yelp in the night, he wonders what if this raccoon, his raccoon, might have been resurrected. He did pray for its soul after all. Perhaps God heard him. Perhaps God granted it more life.
That night at dinner the pastor’s son asks, What happened to Lazarus after he was resurrected? Mrs. Thompson didn’t know when I asked her.
Well, says his father between bites of roast, I guess he probably had a great life. Died happy in bed at an old age. But that’s not really the point of the story.
His life isn’t the point of the story?
Just eat your food.
The pastor’s son is playing in the baptismal font. It’s only filled when someone is getting dunked, otherwise it’s just a huge empty bathtub. He’s thinking about how baptism is supposed to represent burial and resurrection. About when he was baptized and he thought everything would change for him in that moment, that a new sort of clarity would fill him. About how proud his father looked. Now, he has his Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figures in the baptistery and Donatello and Raphael are the last two left standing and the Foot Clan won’t stop coming and Shredder is laughing from his perch atop the Plexiglas partition that lets the congregation see under the water. There’s no one out there now. No one clapping for him. No one welcoming him into the Kingdom of God and the Foot Clan won’t stop coming. They won’t ever stop. He takes Donatello and Raphael, leaving the others, figuring they deserve whatever happens.
The next time there’s a church barbeque, the pastor’s son waits until Charlie Randall isn’t looking and hits him over the head with a stick he found. He expects it to break but it doesn’t and when Charlie takes his fingers away, there’s blood everywhere and it runs down into Charlie’s eyes. Instead of coming after him like the pastor’s son assumed he would, Charlie wails and runs to his mother. The pastor’s son leaves and walks to the creek alone. He stands there for a while, because it takes a while for Charlie to calm down enough to blubber what happened and for Mrs. Randall to speak to the pastor and for the pastor to come searching for his son.
The pastor’s son hears his father coming and takes off his shoes and socks, rolls up his pants almost to the knee. He’s standing in the creek when his father arrives looking angry, and then confused, maybe a little concerned.
What are you doing? You really messed up Charlie. He’s on the way to get stiches. What happened?
The pastor’s son doesn’t respond at first. He’s thinking of the resurrected raccoon and fish that feel no pain. He’s wondering at a world that has cracked open before him and he no longer understands. He finally motions his father to join him in the creek.
Will you put me under again? Will you try it again? he asks, and the cold water flows over his bare skin, so cold it begins to burn. But he doesn’t get out. He knows the burning doesn’t matter because soon he won’t be able to feel it at all.
