No segue.  Straight away
to 1929 and a kid's bout
with his troublesome x-ray eyes.

Buried in her cerebellum,
the knowledge of where he came from
goes unnoticed.  Sarah doesn't want
to think on it on Sunday.  She won't.
Well, maybe later,
when their new preacher's done.

Reverend Ellis admonishes
his few believers with a lesson
from Peter's First Letter:

--    As Abram's mate called him her Master,
      submit to your husband, each wife.
      If he doubts the Word -- our very life --
      win him to it with gentle behavior.
      His penitence will surely end
      your present despair, so let your
      own inner beauty be a loud prayer,
      and rest assured: when you reach him
      the Lord will tell you He has heard.

Sarah wishes her partner were with her
in church, but in the two years since
"Jor-El's" lurching visitation
Eben has absented himself
from the minister's congregation.
That sinister configuration
purged his urge for salvation's comfort
and sowed in him the belief (her grief!)
that Heaven can't have a portion
in a soul that's been contorted
seeing a scion of Hell's fire.
He is missing much.
She gains strength from Ellis' speech,
straightens herself and looks down pew
at Clark, who's staring at the roof.
He and his father will deal
with their anger.  She will heal
the rift between them by showing
equal favor to both.  She smiles.
Clark is looking at the pastor,
listening intently.
Her heart beats a bit faster.
Her God has given her her proof.