tanner garcia 🐮 district 10 🐮 fin

t a n n e r    g a r c i a   .

It's still good, just got to wipe the dirt off a bit. The book's falling apart at the spine, cover held together by just a few threads, but still, it's his. A copy of the Bible his father had passed down to him, an amalgamation of notes between the two of them pressed between the pages. Other people may not understand, but Tanner's different. Devoted. Religion ain't nothing new around these parts, but when it comes to Toddism, that's where people tend to draw the line and knock the book out of his hands. 

Pay them no mind, the naysayers. Tanner has tried his hardest to live his life exclusively with members of his own following; that's always where he seems to be the safest. He does not fear the other - in fact, he fears for them. How are they so unaware? How do they deny the Rapture? Questions that only see the light of day in the confessional box, his own father's voice responding that one day, the denial will end. They can reject God, and they can reject Todd, but they cannot reject the truth when it comes. 

And it will come, Tanner fears. 

Toddism is a subsect, a sanctuary in the form of a church and its private school, for people like him who are rightfully afraid. Its commune small, its population smaller, Tanner knows the name and story of every attendee. There's less than a hundred of them combined, and he's been to the home of each and every one of them. They each have their own role to play, a way to provide for each other and act as one; as the son of the Father, the expectations of Tanner proceed his age. He is to be a beacon of hope, and once he survives the reaping, he will become a Father of his own right.

Quis erit, erit; at twelve, he had his life presented to him. What he will amount to, who he will be, how he will get there. His father the founder and he the successor, and his first born son will be the liberator. It would be an honor, if only it felt right. 

It's a petrifyingly hot summer day, the sun baking the desert sands beneath the church the few children run amongst on. Tanner finds his way to the confessional, his head down and his hands to the side of his priest attire. Youth sermon has just let out at his discretion, a bead of sweat running down his brow from the stress of speaking on behalf of him, their God. This is merely child's play and soon, he will progress to his father's role as well. A prodigal son in his own right, he doesn't feel ready.

He doesn't feel worthy. 

"What brings you, my boy?" His father says, their most intimate talks proceeded through a hole in the wall. 

"Father, what if I'm not," he hesitates to find the right word, "ready?" Tanner grips his knees, tense at the idea. 

"Fear not, my child, for one day Ansgar will return, and allieviate us of all woes. Your reservations are merely temporary," his father speaks as if he doesn't hear him, "instead, rejoice. Rejoice for the life we live, our sensibility wouldn't exist if we gave into every apprehension we felt. Is that what you wish to hear?"

"No," he says, much to his father's dismay, "I meant what if I am not ready to bare children of my own. I- I don't think-"

"Then don't think, for you shall. There is no point in overthinking something that is sure to come, and Marybeth is more than amicable. Your partnership will succeed, and in part, you will succeed," the words hit his ears but there's a fluttering in his chest at the name, Marybeth. His wife to be, a woman described to be gorgeous, with large hair and a friendly smile. Tanner doesn't fear her, but when he thinks of her, he can't help but feel the need to run. It isn't right, no woman so far has been, and they have introduced him to quite a few. 

What if I am broken? He wishes to ask. 

"Besides, children are the ultimate gift of God. What more can you desire than that of creating life?" 

Nothing comes to mind, for Tanner has been programmed to believe it as so. Despite how terrifying the act seems, being the father of the church and the father of child, how will he ever manage it? He feels completed as is, in the final year of his teen stage, and the changes to come challenges the confidence he has built. "Is there anything else you wish to talk about?" His father asks, and he lingers on the question. There always seems to be the lingering sensation of yes, I have so much to ask, but the words evade him so. 

"No, my father," Tanner says, worry in his voice. 

"May he deliver you, my child."