Chapter 16
“I believe in the resurrection of the body and life everlasting. Amen,” Quinn said with the congregants at the five P.M. Saturday Mass at St. Francis.
But did he? To believe in the Christian afterlife was to believe in that neat tripartite, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. And what Hell could be worse than the one he was already in? For Quinn, Hell was the loss of freedom, and he was held fast, bound by obligations, expectations, commitments, and, especially, fears. The more feverishly he worked those chains, the more entwined they became.
“Let’s play a game,” Mal said in his now not-infrequent-enough visits. “Let’s play Strip Search.”
“I don’t like that game,” Quinn said.
“Okay, let’s play Slave Auction. You’ll be the slave and I’ll be the master and—”
“Are you kidding me?” Q
