There is nothing horrific about this experience, not with Jesus there to soothe him, to stroke his damp hair once the water collects in his bangs and beads over the edge of his forehead. He pulls Tony close, he allows him to rest against his chest, a thumb rubbing circles in the back of his neck.

"You are clean, Anthony, though I know it will take nothing so simple for you to realize this. In my eyes, in God's, you are clean."