Pit and the Pulpit - Short Film
“Dedication
To the Sanctuary of Grand Blanc
On October 1, 2025, in the quiet community of Grand Blanc Township, Michigan, a tragedy unfolded that would forever change a congregation and a community. Located at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this sanctuary became a testament to the fragility of human connection and the profound impact of senseless violence.
This work is dedicated to those who were lost, those who survived, and those who responded with compassion in the face of unimaginable tragedy.
In Memoriam
Four lives lost
Five wounded
A community forever changed
Incident Details:
Date: October 1, 2025
Location: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Grand Blanc Township, Michigan
Victims: 4 killed, 5 wounded
Youngest victim: A 6-year-old child
As Dr. Sanford Ross of Henry Ford Health Genesys Hospital reflected, “We’re trained to deal with trauma. We’ll get through this.”
This narrative stands as a tribute to resilience, to understanding, and to the hope that emerges even in our darkest moments.
— With profound respect and an unwavering commitment to healing”
#nowplaying - High Hopes - White Panda Remix - Panic! At The Disco, White Panda
by Mitchell Royel: In the forgotten urban landscape of Millbrook, Michigan, a white family from Oregon arrives with missionary zeal, intent on transforming a struggling neighborhood through their newly established church. At the heart of this powerful narrative is the unexpected connection between Noah Matthews, a thirteen-year-old boy wrestling with his family’s well-intentioned but fundamentally misguided approach to community intervention, and Pit, a local Black teenager whose name carries the weight of unspoken stories. As Reverend Matthews and his congregation attempt to “help” a community they barely understand, tensions simmer beneath the surface, culminating in a devastating act of destruction that burns down the church and exposes the deep fractures of racial and socioeconomic divide. More than a story of conflict, “Pit and the Pulpit” is a nuanced exploration of good intentions, systemic barriers, and the delicate art of truly seeing one another—a journey that will reshape the lives of two boys caught between worlds, challenging everything they thought they knew about community, belonging, and the complex landscape of hope.
#nowplaying - High Hopes - White Panda Remix - Panic! At The Disco, White Panda
by Mitchell Royel: Pit And The Pulpit follows thirteen-year-old Noah Matthews and his father, Reverend Thomas Matthews, as they relocate from their comfortable Oregon suburb to Millbrook, a struggling urban neighborhood in Michigan. The reverend establishes a church with grand promises of uplifting the community, but his true intentions gradually become suspect when he creates the "Millbrook Educational Initiative" in partnership with the local school board.
The Burning
Chapter 1: Arrival
The summer heat hung like a heavy curtain over Millbrook, a forgotten pocket of urban Michigan where concrete dreams slowly crumbled. Thirteen-year-old Noah Matthews watched from the passenger seat of his father’s gleaming SUV, his fingers tracing nervous patterns on the window as they rolled into a neighborhood that felt nothing like their pristine Oregon suburb.
Reverend Thomas Matthews gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with a mixture of determination and something else—a tension that Noah had learned to recognize but never fully understand. The church building stood before them, a weathered brick structure that seemed to sigh with the weight of its own history. Faded paint peeled from window frames, and the surrounding buildings leaned against each other like weary soldiers holding each other up.
“This is where we’ll make a difference,” his father said, the words hanging in the air between them like a prayer and a challenge.
What Noah didn’t know—couldn’t know—was that his father’s eyes weren’t seeing a neighborhood in need of spiritual guidance. They were calculating. Assessing. Measuring the potential.
Noah knew better than to respond. He’d heard this speech before—about mission, about calling, about bringing light to dark places. But the darkness here felt different. It pressed against the windows of their SUV, watching, waiting.
The neighborhood seemed to hold its breath as the Matthews family began unloading their carefully packed boxes. Rows of narrow houses lined streets marked by cracked sidewalks and chain-link fences. Children’s toys lay scattered—a forgotten basketball, a broken tricycle, fragments of lives Noah could barely comprehend.
It was then that he first saw him.
A boy about his age stood on the cracked sidewalk, watching. His skin was the color of rich earth, his eyes sharp and calculating. Something about his stance suggested he’d seen more in his thirteen years than most adults ever would.
“Pit,” a voice called from somewhere behind him. The boy didn’t move, didn’t flinch. Just watched.
Noah Matthews and Pit—two names, two worlds, about to collide in a story that would reshape everything they thought they knew.
Chapter 2: First Encounters
The church renovation began immediately. Reverend Matthews brought in a team of volunteers from their old congregation—white faces that looked slightly uncomfortable as they painted and repaired, their eyes darting around the neighborhood like skittish birds.
Pit watched. Always watching.
Noah found himself drawn to the edges of their work, catching glimpses of a world so different from anything he’d known. The neighborhood kids played basketball on a half-broken court, their laughter a sharp contrast to the serious work of church restoration. Spray-painted murals covered concrete walls—explosions of color that told stories Noah couldn’t begin to understand.
“You’re not from around here,” Pit said one afternoon. It wasn’t a question.
Noah shuffled his feet. “We’re starting a new church. My dad says we’re here to help.”
Pit’s laugh was short, sharp. “Help. Right.”
The tension between them was a living thing—part curiosity, part wariness. Two boys separated by more than just the color of their skin, but by entire universes of experience.
“Your daddy’s church is the third one to come here in five years,” Pit said, bouncing a worn basketball against the cracked concrete. “First one was just stealing. Second one was tax sheltering for some rich folks across town. What’s your daddy’s angle?”
Noah felt heat rising to his cheeks. “It’s not like that. He’s—we’re here to make things better.”
“Better,” Pit repeated, the word hanging in the air between them. “Better for who?”
Before Noah could answer, a sleek black car pulled up to the church. A man in an expensive suit stepped out, glancing around the neighborhood with thinly veiled distaste before hurrying into the building where Reverend Matthews waited.
“That’s Walter Keene,” Pit said, his voice dropping. “School board president. Runs things downtown. What’s he doing at your daddy’s church?”
Noah didn’t have an answer. But the question lingered, a shadow that would grow longer as the summer days stretched on.
Chapter 3: Roots and Revelations
Pit’s story wasn’t one he shared easily. His name—a joke from his father, he’d explain later—was just the beginning of a complicated narrative. Born in this very neighborhood, raised by a mother who worked double shifts and a father long gone, Pit knew every crack in the sidewalk, every hidden story behind each window.
His grandmother, Miss Ella, ran the corner store that seemed to be the neighborhood’s beating heart. She watched the Matthews family with eyes that had seen generations come and go, that understood the delicate dance of survival and hope.
“White folks always think they can fix what they don’t understand,” Miss Ella would mutter, sorting through inventory, her hands telling stories of hard work and resilience.
Noah began to see the neighborhood differently. Not as a project, not as something broken that needed fixing, but as a living, breathing community with its own rhythms and rules.
One hot afternoon, Pit brought Noah to the local high school—Millbrook Central. The building stood like a fortress of faded brick and barred windows. Inside, the hallways echoed with emptiness, summer school classes sparsely populated.
“Our textbooks are from when my momma was in school,” Pit said, pointing to a classroom where a few students bent over desks. “Chemistry lab got equipment from the 80s. Library’s got more empty shelves than books.”
Noah felt something uncomfortable twist in his stomach. “Why?”
Pit’s laugh was hollow. “Why you think? Money goes to the schools across town. Board says we don’t perform well enough to justify more funding. How we supposed to perform without resources?”
As they walked back toward the neighborhood, Noah noticed a sign newly erected in front of the church: “Millbrook Educational Initiative: Raising Achievement, Raising Hope.”
Pit saw it too. His expression hardened. “What’s that about?”
Noah shrugged, but something cold slid down his spine. He’d overheard his father on the phone the night before, talking about “redirecting funds” and “demonstrable outcomes” and “private management.”
Words that meant nothing to him then. Words that would come to mean everything.
Chapter 4: The Scheme Unfolds
Reverend Matthews’ church grew quickly. Services filled with both locals curious about the new presence and outsiders who drove in from wealthier neighborhoods, expressing how “brave” they were to venture into Millbrook. After each service, there were meetings. Closed-door affairs with men in suits and women with clipboards.
Noah found himself increasingly drawn to Pit’s world—the vibrant, struggling reality of Millbrook—even as his father’s vision took shape around them.
“There’s a school board meeting tonight,” Pit said one July evening as they sat on the steps of Miss Ella’s store. “People saying your daddy’s church is proposing something. Something about the school.”
Noah felt his stomach clench. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t know. But my momma’s going. Says it’s important.”
Noah slipped into the back of the meeting held at the local community center. The room was divided—Millbrook residents on one side, board members and church representatives on the other. His father stood at the podium, voice resonant with practiced conviction.
“The Millbrook Educational Initiative offers a unique opportunity,” Reverend Matthews was saying. “A partnership between our ministry and private educational consultants. We’ve secured funding to implement an intensive test preparation program for Millbrook Central students.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
“In exchange,” Walter Keene continued, stepping forward, “the board proposes a restructuring of the district’s budget allocation. The improved test scores will qualify Millbrook for state incentives, which will be channeled through the Initiative’s management structure for optimal distribution.”
The technical language rolled over the audience, but a few sharp voices cut through.
“You’re talking about taking our school’s funding and running it through your church,” a woman said—Pit’s mother, Noah realized with a jolt. “What’s to stop that money from disappearing?”
“I assure you, Mrs. Wilson, this program has been implemented successfully in other districts,” Keene responded smoothly. “The Initiative merely acts as a facilitator for resources.”
“And who sits on this Initiative’s board?” another voice called out.
Reverend Matthews smiled. “Concerned citizens committed to educational improvement.”
Noah slipped out before the meeting ended, his mind racing. Something was wrong. The words sounded right—education, improvement, opportunity—but underneath ran a current of something else. Something that made his skin crawl.
When he got home, he found his father’s office door ajar. Inside, on the desk, lay a document: “Millbrook Educational Initiative: Financial Projections.” Numbers swam before his eyes, but certain phrases stood out:
“Administrative allocation: 43%”
“Consultant fees: 27%”
“Direct educational resources: 12%”
Noah didn’t understand all of it. But he understood enough.
Chapter 5: Caught in the Middle
August arrived with a heavy, suffocating heat. The Millbrook Educational Initiative launched with glossy brochures and a ribbon-cutting ceremony attended by local news. Teachers were brought in—not from the neighborhood, but from across town—to run intensive test prep sessions for selected students.
Pit was among them.
“Why are you doing it?” Noah asked as they walked home after a session.
Pit shrugged, his face unreadable. “They’re offering college scholarships to kids who improve their scores. Mom says I should take the opportunity.”
“But don’t you see—”
“See what?” Pit stopped, his eyes suddenly hard. “That your daddy’s church is probably skimming? That this whole thing is messed up? Yeah, I see it. But what am I supposed to do? Turn down a chance at college because the system’s corrupt? That’s how it’s always been, Noah. We take what we can get.”
Noah felt the distance between them widening—a gulf of understanding he couldn’t cross. He’d grown up believing in systems, in fairness. Pit had grown up knowing better.
At home, Noah began paying attention. Listening at doors. Reading documents left on desks. The picture that emerged was clear: The Initiative was designed to improve test scores enough to qualify Millbrook for additional state funding—funding that would then be channeled through the church’s program, where it would be quietly siphoned away through inflated administrative costs and consulting fees.
When confronted, his father was surprisingly forthright.
“It’s not illegal, Noah,” Reverend Matthews said, his voice steady. “The school gets better scores. The students get better opportunities. And yes, our church benefits. It’s a win-win.”
“But the money—”
“Is going to good use. We’re bringing resources to this community.”
“By taking their education funds?”
His father’s expression hardened. “You’re thirteen. You don’t understand how the world works. Sometimes helping means making difficult decisions.”
Noah thought of Pit, of Miss Ella, of the neighborhood that was becoming more real to him than the sanitized world he’d grown up in. “This isn’t right.”
“Right and wrong aren’t always clear-cut, son. Sometimes the greater good requires compromise.”
The greater good. Noah would come to hate those words.
Chapter 6: The Incident
As tensions in the neighborhood grew, so did the divide between Noah and Pit. Their friendship, once cautious but promising, had cooled to barely-concealed hostility. Pit continued attending the Initiative’s test prep sessions, driven by his mother’s insistence and the dangling promise of a scholarship. Noah watched from afar, guilt and frustration gnawing at him.
One evening, as dusk settled over Millbrook, Noah decided to confront Pit one last time. He found him walking home from the community center, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Pit, wait up!” Noah called out.
Pit turned, his expression guarded. “What do you want, church boy?”
Before Noah could respond, a group of older teens emerged from an alley. Noah recognized them as local troublemakers—boys who’d aged out of school and into the streets.
“Well, well,” the largest one sneered. “If it ain’t the preacher’s pet and his little study buddy.”
Pit’s posture changed instantly, tensing for a fight. “Back off, Darius. We don’t want any trouble.”
Darius laughed, a harsh sound. “Trouble’s all we got around here. Ain’t that right, white boy?”
Noah felt his heart racing. He’d never been in a situation like this before. “We’re just heading home,” he managed to say.
“Home?” another boy chimed in. “You mean that fancy house your daddy bought with our school’s money?”
It happened so fast. One moment they were talking, the next Pit was on the ground, Darius and his crew on top of him. Noah stood frozen, watching in horror as they pinned Pit down.
“You like studying so much?” Darius taunted, pulling something from his pocket. “Here’s a lesson for you.”
With a sickening realization, Noah saw what it was—a dirty diaper, probably snatched from someone’s trash. Before he could react, they had taped it over Pit’s face, laughing as he struggled.
“Stop!” Noah yelled, finally finding his voice. “Leave him alone!”
Darius turned, eyes glinting dangerously. “You want some too, church boy?”
Noah did the only thing he could think of—he ran. Not away, but straight at them, yelling at the top of his lungs. The surprise of it made them hesitate just long enough. Noah managed to grab Pit’s arm, yanking him up.
“Run!” he shouted.
They took off down the street, the gang’s angry shouts fading behind them. They didn’t stop until they reached Miss Ella’s store, bursting through the door, gasping for breath.
Miss Ella took one look at them—Pit with the filthy diaper still half-attached to his face, Noah wide-eyed and panting—and ushered them into the back room.
As she helped Pit clean up, her movements gentle but her eyes hard with anger, she fixed Noah with a penetrating stare.
“You want to tell me what this is about?” she demanded.
Noah opened his mouth, then closed it again. How could he explain? That this violence was just another symptom of the rot his father’s church was introducing to the neighborhood? That the resentment building against the Initiative, against the false promises, was spilling over into senseless cruelty?
Pit spoke up, his voice raw. “It wasn’t his fault, Miss Ella. He… he helped me.”
Miss Ella’s expression softened slightly, but her eyes remained wary. “That so? And where were you when this started, Noah Matthews?”
The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Noah felt the weight of it, the unspoken accusation. Had he set Pit up? Was this some twisted form of retribution for Pit’s participation in the Initiative?
“I was trying to talk to Pit,” Noah said finally, his voice small. “I didn’t know those guys were there. I swear, I didn’t want this to happen.”
Miss Ella studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Alright. I believe you. But hear me good, both of you. This neighborhood’s a powder keg right now. And your daddy’s church,” she said, looking directly at Noah, “is striking matches left and right.”
Noah nodded, shame and resolve mixing in his chest. “I know. And I’m going to do something about it.”
Pit looked at him, surprise and a flicker of something else—hope, maybe—in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
Noah took a deep breath. “I mean I’m going to tell the truth. About everything.”
Chapter 7: The Warning Signs
September brought the first signs of trouble. A local journalist began asking questions about the Initiative’s financial structure. Community meetings grew tense. Reverend Matthews spent long hours on the phone, his voice dropping to hushed tones whenever Noah entered the room.
Pit withdrew further. The incident with Darius and his crew had left more than just physical bruises. The easy, if cautious, friendship they’d been building was now strained to breaking point. He still attended the test prep sessions—his mother insisted—but he no longer walked with Noah afterward. No longer shared stories about the neighborhood. No longer trusted.
Noah couldn’t blame him.
The first test scores came in—markedly improved. The Initiative celebrated with a press conference. Walter Keene praised the “innovative approach” and announced that additional state funding had been secured as a result.
“This is just the beginning,” Reverend Matthews announced to applause from Initiative supporters. “Millbrook is on its way to educational transformation.”
That night, someone threw a brick through the church window. No note. No explanation needed.
Miss Ella cornered Noah outside her store the next day, her eyes fierce with protective anger.
“Your daddy thinks he’s slick,” she said, voice low and intense. “But we’ve seen his kind before. Come in talking about help, leave with our resources. Tell him we’re watching. Tell him Millbrook isn’t as simple as he thinks.”
Noah nodded, unable to defend what he knew was indefensible.
He tried to talk to Pit that afternoon, waiting outside the Initiative’s tutoring center. Pit emerged, surrounded by friends, and for a moment their eyes met. Something passed between them—acknowledgment, perhaps. Or judgment.
“Your daddy’s church is stealing from our school,” one of Pit’s friends called out. “How’s it feel to be a thief’s son?”
Noah had no answer. The words hit like physical blows.
Pit didn’t defend him. Didn’t speak at all. Just turned and walked away.
That night, Noah confronted his father again.
“People know,” he said simply. “They know what the Initiative is really doing.”
Reverend Matthews sighed, rubbing his temples. “People always resist change, Noah. Even change that benefits them. The scores are up. Students are performing better. In a few years, they’ll thank us.”
“Will they? When the money’s gone and you’ve moved on to the next ‘mission’?”
His father’s eyes flashed. “That’s enough. You’re speaking about things you don’t understand.”
But Noah did understand. More than his father realized.
Chapter 8: Breaking Point
October brought falling leaves and rising tensions. The Initiative expanded, taking over more aspects of Millbrook Central’s operations. Teachers who questioned the approach were sidelined. Parents who raised concerns found their children excluded from the most intensive—and promising—tutoring groups.
Noah watched it all with growing horror. This wasn’t help. This was conquest dressed as charity.
He tried to warn Pit, catching him alone after school one day.
“They’re going to take everything,” Noah said urgently. “The improved scores are just bait. Once they control the funding stream—”
“You think I don’t know that?” Pit’s voice was cold. “You think any of us are stupid? We know exactly what’s happening. But what choice do we have? Play along or get nothing at all.”
“But if people stood together—”
Pit’s laugh was bitter. “Easy for you to say. Your future’s secure no matter what. This is our one chance.”
“It’s not real, though. It’s a trap.”
“Maybe. But it’s the only trap with a scholarship at the end. So I’m taking it.”
The divide between them seemed insurmountable now. Noah, unable to convince his father of the moral bankruptcy of his scheme. Pit, unwilling to reject an opportunity, corrupt as it was, in a world that offered so few.
The community fractured along similar lines. Some embraced the Initiative’s resources, however questionable their source. Others resisted, their protests growing louder.
Violence simmered beneath the surface of Millbrook that fall—a tension ready to snap.
Chapter 9: The Documents
Noah made his decision on a rain-soaked November evening. His father was at a board meeting. His mother was visiting family back in Oregon. The house was empty, and his father’s office unattended.
The files weren’t even locked away—such was his father’s confidence. Noah gathered what he needed: financial projections, bank transfers, emails discussing the “reallocation strategy.” Evidence of a systematic plan to redirect educational funds through the Initiative and into accounts controlled by church leadership and “consultants.”
He made copies. Carefully. Meticulously.
The next day, he approached Pit after school. The other boy’s eyes were wary, suspicious.
“I need to show you something,” Noah said, voice low. “Something important.”
Pit hesitated. Then nodded once, sharply.
They met at Miss Ella’s store, in the small stockroom at the back. Noah spread the documents on a crate.
“This is everything,” he said simply. “The whole plan. Where the money’s going. How they’re justifying it. Everything.”
Pit’s eyes widened as he scanned the papers. His hands shook slightly.
“Why are you showing me this?” he finally asked.
Noah met his gaze steadily. “Because it’s wrong. And because you deserve to know the truth.”
A long silence stretched between them.
“What do you expect me to do with this?” Pit’s voice was careful, controlled.
“Whatever you think is right.”
Another silence. Then Pit gathered the papers, folded them carefully. “This could hurt a lot of people. The program would end. The scholarships—”
“Were never real,” Noah finished. “They were going to select a few students to fund as ‘success stories.’ Just enough to justify the program. The rest was going to disappear.”
Pit’s expression hardened. “And your father? This will destroy him.”
Noah felt something cold settle in his chest. “I know.”
Pit studied him for a long moment. “You’d do that? To your own father?”
“This isn’t about him. It’s about what’s right.”
Pit tucked the documents into his backpack. “I’ll think about it.”
Noah nodded. He’d made his choice. The rest wasn’t in his hands.
Chapter 10: The Burning
It happened three days later. No warning, no build-up—just sudden, consuming flames.
The church burned quickly, hungrily. Flames licked the sky, casting an orange glow that turned night into a hellish day. Noah watched from a distance, his father’s hand gripping his shoulder too tightly.
No one was hurt. But something had been destroyed that went beyond brick and mortar.
The fire department called it arson. Accelerant had been used. Deliberate. Planned.
In the chaos that followed, other things burned too. A storage unit containing Initiative records. A filing cabinet in Walter Keene’s office.
Evidence disappeared into ash.
Noah searched for Pit in the crowd that gathered to watch the church burn. Their eyes met across the street—Pit’s face illuminated by the orange glow, expression unreadable. A moment of connection. Then Pit turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of Millbrook.
They didn’t speak again.
Chapter 11: Aftermath
The investigation was swift, perfunctory. No suspects were identified. The community closed ranks—a wall of silence that no investigator could penetrate.
The church’s insurance paid out. The Initiative’s activities were suspended “pending reorganization.” The improved test scores remained on record, a peculiar legacy of a program that had vanished overnight.
But the money—millions in educational funds—had already been moved. Redirected. Lost in a labyrinth of accounts and transfers that no one seemed able or willing to unravel.
A week after the fire, a package arrived at the local newspaper office. Anonymous. Unmarked. Inside: copies of the documents Noah had given to Pit. Not all of them—just enough to raise questions without providing definitive proof.
Enough to cast suspicion, but not enough to bring charges.
Reverend Matthews announced their return to Oregon the following Sunday. A small service held in a community center, attended by a handful of Initiative supporters. His voice shook with what sounded like righteous indignation as he spoke of persecution, of misunderstanding, of a community resistant to its own salvation.
Noah sat silently, a stranger now to both his father’s world and the neighborhood he was leaving behind.
On their last day in Millbrook, Noah walked to Miss Ella’s store. She watched him approach, her eyes knowing.
“He’s not here,” she said before Noah could speak. “Pit’s moved in with his aunt across town. Starting at the magnet school next semester.”
Noah nodded, unsurprised. “Will you tell him something for me?”
Miss Ella’s expression was carefully neutral. “If I see him.”
“Tell him I’m sorry. Not for what I did. But for everything else.”
She studied him for a long moment. “You Matthews boys and your apologies. Always coming after the damage is done.” She sighed, her gaze softening slightly. “But at least yours seems genuine. I’ll tell him if I see him.”
Noah knew she wouldn’t. Knew that some bridges, once burned, couldn’t be rebuilt.
Chapter 12: Years Later
The statistics would later show a stark truth. Millbrook Central’s brief spike in performance was followed by years of decline. The district’s funding never fully recovered. The neighborhood’s already struggling schools saw further deterioration. Community programs lost support. The delicate ecosystem of hope seemed to collapse.
Noah Matthews completed high school in Oregon, the events in Millbrook a shadow that followed him through adolescence. He chose his path carefully—studying education policy, focusing on equitable funding, carrying the weight of his father’s sins like a stone in his pocket.
Reverend Matthews’ career never fully recovered from the whispers that followed him from Michigan. No charges were filed, but questions lingered. His congregation dwindled. His certainty wavered. The easy confidence that had once defined him eroded, leaving a man who jumped at shadows.
Sometimes, in rare unguarded moments, he would look at his son with something like understanding. As if he recognized that Noah had been the architect of his downfall. But he never spoke of it. Never acknowledged what they both knew.
Some truths were too painful to voice aloud.
Noah returned to Millbrook once, ten years later. The neighborhood had changed—gentrification creeping in at the edges, pushing long-time residents further out. Miss Ella’s store was now a coffee shop. The site of the church had become a small park, unmarked and unremarkable.
He looked for signs of Pit—any trace of the boy who had watched him with such clear-eyed judgment. But Millbrook had moved on, its memories washed away by time and economic tides.
At the local community college, a secretary examined her records with a frown.
“Wilson,” she repeated. “Yes, there was a student by that name some years back. Brilliant mind. Started here, transferred to Michigan State on scholarship. Engineering, I believe.”
“Do you know where he went after graduation?” Noah asked.
The woman shook her head. “Our records don’t track that far. Is he a relative?”
“No,” Noah said after a pause. “Just someone I used to know.”
He left his contact information anyway. A note that would never be delivered, a connection that would never be restored.
Chapter 13: The Legacy
Millbrook’s story became a footnote in Noah’s research—a case study in how well-intentioned intervention could become predatory when accountability failed. He never named the church, never identified his father. Some truths were private, personal.
But the lessons shaped his work. His advocacy. His understanding of the fine line between help and harm.
He thought of Pit often. Wondered what had become of him. Whether he’d found his way to success despite the obstacles placed in his path. Whether he still carried anger for the white boy who had exposed a scheme but couldn’t stop its damage.
Noah never learned what had actually happened to Pit. Never knew that the trajectory of his life had been forever altered in the aftermath of the church burning. Never knew that Pit had started at the community college with such promise, only to have his education interrupted when he was arrested during a protest against further budget cuts to Millbrook Central.
A scuffle with police had escalated. Charges had been filed. Excessive ones, many in the community believed—a message being sent. Three years in state prison for what should have been, at most, a misdemeanor.
Prison changed Pit. Hardened some parts of him, softened others. He emerged at twenty-three with a record that closed many doors, but with a clarity about his purpose that was unshakable.
He never completed his degree. Never became the engineer he might have been. Instead, he found his calling in the margins—becoming an educator of a different kind. At a local workforce development center, he created a janitor training program. Teaching maintenance skills to men and women overlooked by traditional education systems, many with records like his own.
“The invisible workers,” he’d tell his students, “are the ones who really know how systems function. Who see the waste, the cracks, the places where things break down. Learn to see what others miss, and you’ll never be without work.”
His program grew. Expanded to three centers across the Detroit metro area. Became known for its near-perfect job placement rate and for graduates who advanced quickly to supervisory positions.
When interviewed by a local paper about the program’s success, Pit’s response was characteristically direct: “I teach people how to clean up messes they didn’t make. Been doing it my whole life.”
He married. Had children. Built a life marked by purpose rather than bitterness, though the anger never fully left him. How could it, in a system designed to extract rather than support? But he channeled that anger into action, into building something that couldn’t be taken away.
Noah, successful in his policy work, comfortable in his Oregon life, would have been surprised to know that Pit still thought of him. Not often, but sometimes. When white faces appeared in Millbrook with new programs, new initiatives, new ways to “help.” When promises were made that sounded too good to be true.
He thought of Noah with a complicated mixture of emotions. Not with forgiveness—some betrayals cut too deep for that. But with a grudging acknowledgment that at least the preacher’s son had seen the truth and chosen to expose it, even at great personal cost.
Still, if their paths had ever crossed again—which they never did—Pit would have turned and walked away. Some bridges, once burned, could never be rebuilt. Some divides were too vast to cross.
In the spaces between their stories lay the truth about Millbrook. About systems designed to take rather than give. About communities resilient enough to survive betrayal. About two boys who glimpsed, briefly, the possibility of connection across divides engineered to separate them.
A connection severed by fire. By circumstance. By the harsh realities of a world that made enemies of those who might have been friends.
And so their paths never crossed again. Their stories never reconnected. The fire that had consumed the church had also consumed whatever might have grown between them—trust, understanding, forgiveness.
Some stories don’t have neat endings. Some wounds don’t heal. Some divides can’t be bridged.
But somewhere in the ashes of what happened in Millbrook, in the space between intention and impact, there remained a spark of something true. A moment when two boys had seen each other clearly, honestly, across every barrier built to blind them.
It wasn’t enough. But it was something.
A testament to the fact that true connection happens not through saving, but through seeing.
Through truth.
Even when that truth burns.
Pit and The Pulpit follows thirteen-year-old Noah Matthews and his father, Reverend Thomas Matthews, as they relocate from their comfortable Oregon suburb to Millbrook, a struggling urban neighborhood in Michigan. The reverend establishes a church with promises of uplifting the community, but his true intentions are revealed when he creates the "Millbrook Educational Initiative" - a scheme designed to improve test scores while secretly redirecting educational funding through the church's control.
Noah befriends a local boy named Pit, and as their uneasy relationship develops, Noah discovers the truth about his father's operation. Faced with a moral dilemma, Noah makes the difficult decision to expose the scheme by sharing incriminating documents with Pit. Shortly after, the church burns down in an act of arson, destroying evidence of the financial misdeeds.
In the aftermath, Noah and his family return to Oregon while the Millbrook community suffers from the extracted educational funds. Years later, Noah pursues a career in education policy, carrying the weight of his father's sins. Meanwhile, Pit's life takes a drastically different turn - arrested during a protest against further budget cuts, he serves three years in prison before emerging to establish a successful janitor training program for people with criminal records like himself. Despite their brief connection as boys, the two never reconcile or meet again, with Pit harboring permanent animosity toward Noah and the betrayal of his community.