The Un-Holy Love of a Priest

Chapter 6: The Bishop

Lucius’ POV

Amidst the confessions, I felt my eyes focus on the reflective glass near the iconostasis. My pupils dilated spotting a familiar back in my shirt.

Even though it was lose on her, she looked cool.

I watched as a hand rested on her shoulder and without meaning to, my fingers curled up in fists.

‘Focus, Lucius’

Reminding myself, I repeated Jesus’ phrases in head to keep calm but there was an unsettling feeling inside my stomach.

I put my epitrachelion over the youngster’s head who was regretting doing drugs for the first and last time. He happened to run his car over someone and the guilt of not ensuring if the person was okay or not; was eating him up. Though he has never touched them ever again, he regretted his action.

“God it was who forgave David through Nathan the Prophet, when he confessed his sins, and Peter weeping bitterly for his denial, and the sinful woman in tears at his feet, and the Publican, and the Prodigal Son: May the same God forgive Thee all things, through me a sinner, both in this present world, and in that which is to come, and set Thee uncondemned before his dread Judgment Seat. And now, having no further care for the sins which Thou hast confessed, depart in peace.”

My eyes darted back to the mirror and found her gone. The boy kissed my hand and asked me to pray for him. I quickly turned feeling wary and spotted her kneeling down on the floor with a crouch.

There were whispers and my legs had their own brain. Striding faster towards her, I sneaked an arm over her shoulder.

“Lucius”

She whispered my name and my heart fluttered.

Weird

Her body leaned against mine, going limp.

I scooped her up and could feel heat emanate from my face. There was a wound on her stomach; bleeding badly.

She gasped but had a faint smile when her unfocused eyes stayed on my face. I watched as her hand left her abdomen and touched my face.

The warmth from her blood sent a chill run down my spine. Turning around, I lifted my chin defiantly and stared at the Jesus’ icon.

Taking a sharp breath, standing in silence, I stared intently.

‘Forgive me Jesus for what I am feeling through. O Lord Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of the eternal Father, Thou hast said, “Without me you can do nothing.” In faith I embrace Thy words, O Lord, and bow before Thy goodness. Help me to complete the work I am about to begin for Thine own glory: in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.’

The steps I took felt heavier than any other day. I could feel my cheeks shake with each step while I took her inside the clergy house. I can hear footsteps running behind me while I felt unrest anger in me.

As I lay her on the bed available, a nun rushed towards her followed by a doctor. I put my palm on her wound, pressurizing it to prevent more blood loss. She winced but lay back on the mattress with her eyes fixated on me.

Tears filled eyes with a sly smile on her lips, her gaze stirred different emotions. She was tired and I feared she would give up.

I cupped her cheek with another and wiped her tears away. She shut her eyes and inhaled sharply.

“Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed” I whispered lowly and her eyes fluttered open.

Her smile was gone, eyebrows knitted slightly as she watched me nodding my head in silent agreement.

A hand touched my shoulder and pulled me away. I straightened up but my eyes not leaving her. Praying silently for her healing, I let the doctors care for her while I turned to see the bishop standing here.

His old face was set in hard lines. Pecking his cheeks, I bowed my head slightly in his respect. He gestured me to follow but I hesitated—for the first time.

He noticed and lifted an eyebrow questioningly. I lifted my head and followed him few distance away. We were still in the same room but I couldn’t see her anymore. The bishop glanced at her, I am sure about that, before giving me a hard stare.

“You seem distracted, Lucius.” He pointed out and I lowered my head.

“There are rumors around the city that I hope are rumors only. People have questioned her presence in your house. They are demanding explanation for it. I dismissed it earlier saying it was temporary but whatever happened today, I am less confident now.” He sounded disappointed.

“I did what a pastor should do—comforting a restless soul.” He sneered at my answer and I glanced over my shoulder to check on her.

I was roughly faced around by ‘our grace’.

“You were staring at her throughout the prayers, Lucius. Everybody noticed the way you looked at her! It’s a shame to see a priest like you getting drifted away from the love of God. Isn’t that what you always wanted? Being closer to the good lord?” His voice raised at the start and ended with a soft touch.

“Remember, ‘For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.’” He spoke with an air of authority and I felt countless small voices whispering things I couldn’t pick up.

“I remember our grace. It is you who taught me this but I also remember that ‘Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth’. I finished my point watching the bishop biting his cheek.

He wanted to say more but didn’t.

I stayed there with my usual smile and watched him glare hard at the girl who is not only laden with the heavy burdens of her past but also present.

I watched as the bishop took a deep breath and leave without any other word; face red as tomato.

Anger…

‘He has sinned.’

My lips adorned with a sarcastic smile as I causally turned and watched the doctor leave not before instructing her to take rest.

I watched Grace sleeping under medicines. The nun offered being her caretaker but I refused. She is my responsibility. Her constant calling of my name in time of trouble did something to me that won’t let me go.

She believes in me, she is looking up at me; I don’t want to disappoint her.

Isn’t that what our Lord has taught us?

‘Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.’

So, I would protect her till she believes.

I walked upto the window recalling the last violence happened in this city.

It was before I was placed as a priest, before I went for undergrads. Few parents had hidden their daughters within their houses.

That was the time when the holy mass gathering was necessity, on all Sundays. As required, we were too gathering as early as possible—6AM but I was late. I was little late; almost half an hour.

As I ran grabbing my cap and book through the winding street, I heard a scream. At first, I ignored and kept running but the muffled scream was getting louder inside my head.

It was calling for help and I didn’t know what to do.

I was scared but something in me forced me to look out for the source. Changing course, I ran towards the narrow alley, out on the main street and stood outside a cottage. A small cozy cottage which appeared just fine to me; I jumped over its fence not before calling for the police.

Unfortunately, they feared leaving the mass gathering. However, one of them was courageous enough to stay back and run towards the same house.

By the time he reached along with me and I jumped over the fence, the house was in silence. I knew it was risk; the officer might push me in the jail but I didn’t care and peeked through its window.

I gasped seeing a young girl of my age, cut into pieces. Nausea took over me and I fell from the windowsill. I lost conscience.

When I was awake, my parents were crying hard. They were inconsolable. When asked, they revealed that they too had a daughter, two years younger than me who was slaughtered that very day.

It was the same day when eleven of the girls were killed but no one was caught. For others it was a coincidence but not to me. Especially when I realized that the officer who was at the crime scene with me went missing as well.

Some say he was transferred other says he was being coward and ran off but I knew there was something fishy.

So many young girls died at the same time during mass gathering and not many seemed to care. My parents left the place after I was appointed as the priest and shifted to the countryside. They needed to live far away from the crowd, away from the place which reminded them of their daughter.

I never forced them to stay because being a priest; I had no attachment to anyone. Not even my parents but now as I see, there was some truth behind the bishop’s words.

My trail of thoughts broke when I heard an urgent voice beside me.

Turning around, I came face to face with the sister. She was scared and worried. Her eyes darted back to Grace and then me.

“Father Lucius, who could be so brave to attack inside this church?” The nun asked and all I did was smile.

There can only be one person who knows the answer…

‘The bishop’.