A Memoir In Matthew 7
Growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness, James knew how to create light on his own, but it is a feat that did not come naturally to him – there is much inside his soul he keeps hidden, and with each candle of light lit he fears he will accidentally reveal the worst secret of all. With this conflict, he finds it easier to reflect light than to create it, and he uses elements, shards of illumination gathered from every world he visits. He always felt clumsy in his attempt, a sham, a fake fakir in the religion, but that never stops him from trying. The most illuminated honesty he can create is an emotional steampunk patchwork clammer of metal and disheveled glass of Fresnel and convex lenses held together with wire and hope.
Aaron is so different. His light is natural and yellow without the need of a container or glass, a constant glow of purity and compassion mixed with the fluid heart of a poet and barefooted charm. James often remembers the first time he saw the sharp features, pale white skin, dark hair, and lean muscular body walk through the lobby of the A Building of the Watchtower Farms.
The problem is when working at the World Headquarters of Jehovah’s Witnesses in Wallkill, New York, any light that shines brighter than the conformed norm is considered treacherously risky and suspicious. James did many things while living in Houston, but nothing prepared him for the malevolent storm ahead. No one warned him of the fragility of life, the heart, and the light he held in his hands… and in his soul.
The darkness come upon him quickly and by the time he realized he needed to take cover, it was far too late.
James P. Perez © 2013