Page 80 of The Man with a Treasure

“I keep trying, but,” she tapped her chest, “being alone makes my heart go so fast.” Her eyes met mine. “I don’t want it to stop beating.”

Not only were her eyes entrancing, but her words were as well. Especially one. Scarlett had said ‘don’t’.

Every day, she was growing.

The thought of her heart ceasing had my legs weakening and me sitting on the lidded toilet.

She said, “Sal says it will all get easier over time.”

“You’ve talked to him about your loneliness?”

“He is willing to talk to me about anything.”

I didn’t even know I was snarling again until Scarlett’s face scrunched as she tried to lift her upper lip. “Why do you always do that?”

“No good reason,” I told her. After exhaling, I admitted, “I’m glad he is there for you.” Down, jealous man. Down. “Is there, uh, anything you would like to talk to me about?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, that was quick.”

“It has been on my mind a lot.”

I suddenly wanted out of the bathroom again. What was she going to say?

“Angelo… if my heart were to stop beating, and I ‘passed’, where would I pass to?”

Oh, sure, Sal gets loneliness and mashed potatoes, and I get fucking religion? “Uh. Well, that would depend on who is right.”

“Explain.”

Yes, I am definitely taking my chances and shooting Sal.

I only had to sum up and simplify a subject that has caused wars throughout all of history. No problem. Fuck! “Hmm, let’s see. Where to begin?”

“The beginning.”

I chuckled until it hit me… “And there lies the problem. Nobody truly knows the beginning. There are scientific speculations—” I stopped when her brows pinched in confusion. Simple terms. “Okay, speculation means to guess.” She relaxed with a nod. “Now, try to understand, all this ‘guessing’ started before there were books.” Gasp! “That’s right. Stories were told and passed—” she recoiled. “No. No. Not that kind of passing. Umm… Oh. In the kitchen, has Sal ever asked you to hand him something?”

“Oh, yes!”

“That’s passing. You,” I hand gestured, “passed him a bowl of grapes—” I stopped when she beamed at me. “You like grapes?”

“I do, but that is not why I am smiling. Sal was right and you were wrong.”

Snarl.

“He told me that you don’t spend as much time with me because you don’t believe you are a good teacher.” She shook her head in wonderment. “You were wrong.” Her eyes closed in a beautiful exhale. “You are marvelous, Angel.”

Blink. Blink.

Maybe I won’t kill him.

Ego properly stroked, I readjusted on my seat—toilet. “Thank you for the compliment, Scarlett.”

Her eyes opened, but she said no more. She wanted to grow.

Humbled, I smiled. “Okay, where was I? Oh, yes, so, as the stories were passed along, some of them changed slightly. Some people didn’t agree or believe the stories so they began their own. Over many-many years, these stories came to be known as religions. Most religions believe in a higher power. That means they believe in something that can’t always be seen. It is more like the instincts that you and I talked about. Gut feelings. Love in your heart. Beliefs, known as Faith.”