~
Standing motionless in the driveway, his family already loaded into their own vehicle, Gabe kept eye contact with Lily as her mother drove away. Her scent lingered on his shirt as he watched until he could no longer see the car.
It hurt his heart to see her go. This pleased him, however; after losing his father, he wasn't sure his heart was able to feel anything again.
The Light
“The light...David...the light.”
Clutching his chest, beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, David lurched forward in bed. Coughing and sputtering to catch his breath, he cursed as he rocked his body back and forth, hoping to tame his peaking adrenaline. Hyperventilating, he drew slow breaths to calm his heartbeat.
Damn that dream! He thought angrily, shaking his head.
Since the age of ten, after his mother passed away, he’d had the very same nightmare almost every night. Drowning, always drowning. The nightmare occurred more often when he was young, but still it continued to plague him for twenty-two long years.
Swinging his legs to the side of the bed, he rubbed his forehead forcefully with the palms of his hands. Pushing the dream and memory of his mother as far away as he could, he wandered into the washroom to splash water onto his clammy face.
Meandering back to bed, he flinched at the bright sun sneaking its rays past the blinds. Working the night shift was hard on his body, mentally and physically. He rarely got a good rest while sleeping during the day; his body wasn’t designed for that.
Glancing at the clock, he realized he’d slept longer than he thought; he had another shift at the hospital beginning in an hour. Sitting on the bed, he stared longingly at his pillow as it is beckoned him to lie down again. He could almost hear the pillow whispering sweet nothings into his ear from where he sat, luring him to rest his weary head for just a little longer. Stretching his neck from side to side and yawning, he resisted the temptation and bid farewell to his precious cradle of slumber.
Feeling refreshed after his shower and shave, he wandered to the kitchen to get a bite to eat. The house was quiet this late in the afternoon. Usually there was music blaring from Tiffany’s room and clatter from the kitchen as Ellen prepared supper.
Oh yeah! He thought, snapping his fingers. I remember why I married Ellen, she's an excellent cook!
The quote, ‘the best way to man’s heart is through his stomach’ was a glaring overstatement. She had other redeeming qualities that had intrigued him during their courtship, but man, was her cooking good! He recalled being blown away on their first real date when she whipped up a three course meal that was amazing.
Since then, she'd concocted a wonderful meal almost daily for David, hence his slightly expanding waistline. Patting his hungry tummy, he realized he was disappointed that Ellen wasn't home; making a great supper.
Entering the kitchen, he noticed a note on the counter.
David,
Gone to the spa for the weekend. Tiffany is at Cassandra's house.
I'll be home Sunday night.
Ellen
“Short and sweet.” David said out loud, sarcasm bouncing off the cupboards of the empty kitchen.
“Must be Friday today if the girls are gone for the weekend.” he said as he crumpled up the note and tossed it into the recycle bin. One of the hazards of working the night shift was losing track of what day it was. With the realization it was Friday, his spirits were instantly uplifted as he remembered the Charity Golf Tournament on Sunday.
Searching the back of the fridge for leftovers, he discovered some two day old lasagna. That was his favorite since he was a kid, his mom made the world’s greatest lasagna.
His mom had been a wonderful cook too; maybe that’s what drew him to Ellen. In a strange way, having Ellen’s cooking loosely tied with the memory of his mother seemed to resurrect her even in the smallest way.
David didn’t venture into the painful memory of his mother’s death very often...if ever. The reason David became a doctor was because of his mother’s illness. It seemed fruitless now, all the years of medical school, working two jobs to pay for university and suffering through years of internship. She wasn’t coming back, no matter how many people he could save now.
His thoughts drifted reluctantly back in time...to her last moments.
Watching her beauty waste away like a terrible entity had entered her, transforming his mother into a skeletal monster right in front of his eyes, was so much more than young David could bear.
Her radiance, traded for ashen skin that clung to her bones, faded like the last ember in a dying fire. It happened so quickly, within weeks of her announcement she was ill.
The cancer ravaging her body was ruthless in its pursuit to destroy her. The doctors couldn't find where it had originated, it had spread throughout her body so voraciously, and they had no way of tracking it...or treating it.
Ten years old and watching helplessly as your own mother is destroyed, day after day, by an unseen predator. It was so much more than David could come to terms with...even now.
The day she died…
“The light, David, the light! Do you see that light?” His mother’s ghostly last words echoed in his mind. Her thin hands clambered at his face, her hair wild, her eyes delirious...
“No!” He yelled loudly into the empty kitchen, his hands squeezing his head; trying to force the memories out. He wouldn’t let himself think of that day, he couldn’t--not yet.
Vows
“Gabriel!” Angelo scolded his twelve year old son. “Sit up! The Lord does not want his servants to be slackers!”
Gabe immediately straightened out his spine and fought back tears as he continued saying grace. The rest of the children, seated around the table, followed suit in case their father chose them next. Strangely though, Gabe noted, it was always him his father picked on first.
Gabe knew his father loved his children; he was strict because he wanted the best for them. At least, that's what Gabe's mother often told him.
Every evening, Angelo insisted his children thoroughly study the Bible. Though they were eager to please their father, Gabe silently questioned his father's motives.
Angelo would often comment to his sons, “I would be so proud if one of my boys would become a member of the church. Could you imagine a priest in our family?!” then he would always add cryptically, “Surely then, the Lord would find it in His heart to forgive us our sins.”
Gabe sensed his father was deeply disturbed by a dark secret and having one of his sons play such an important part in the church community would somehow redeem him of this sin.
Over the years, however, Gabe was convinced this might be a good path for him. Though he never felt the proverbial 'calling' from the Holy Father, he did feel a need to please his own father.
Maybe this, Gabe would think as he considered the priesthood, maybe this would make Papa proud of me.
After Angelo's death, Gabe became consumed with the idea of becoming a priest. He pursued it like a vendetta, a debt he felt he owed. At night, after everyone else was asleep, Gabe would devour the words of the bible. The pages lit only by candlelight, he would memorize the words of the scripture until the sun peeked its head over the horizon.
The words of the bible lit a passion within him. To give back to humanity, to serve the Lord and help those in search of Him. He couldn't wait until he could put on that black robe and wear that white collar for the first time.
That is, until he met Lily.
~
Years blended like pages in a book flipped by the wind.
Gabe tried to smother the feelings building within him, the fury of lust branding sin upon his soul. Holding her face to his, he softly kissed her cheek, then her forehead. He felt her lips graze his earlobe, sending shock waves through his body.
Pausing to catch his breath, he tried to stop himself, to fight the inertia. He couldn't.
Tilting her face to his, he pressed his lips to Lily’s for the first time
“Father Gabe?” A man’s voice at the door queried, followed by a knock. “Father Gabe, are you in there?”
The ambiance pierced like a balloon popped with a sharp needle sending reality rushing into the room.
Realizing his moral lapse, Gabe pushed Lily away. He clasped his hand over his mouth and took deep breaths, attempting to compose himself. He looked at Lily, a feeling of betrayal surged through him as he shot her a look of contempt.
Her eyes filled with tears as she scanned the room for another exit. Seeing a side door at the back of the room, she bolted.
“Father Gabe?” The unfamiliar voice insisted.
“Yes,” Gabe replied, finally finding his own voice. “Yes, I’m here. One moment please.”
He searched his mind for a rational explanation. He'd known giving up women, marriage…and Lily…was part of the job. He was allowed to love Lily as a friend, just not…that way.
Becoming a priest would make his mother and deceased father proud of him. This was what he wanted…wasn’t it?
He yearned to go after Lily, to explain his reaction. He'd taken a vow, a sacred vow, to remain loyal to the church and to God.
More than that--he wanted to kiss her again.
Angry with himself, he raged inside, confused and bitter for his choices, his restrictions.
The voice on the other side of the door apparently decided he'd waited long enough. Gabe heard the doorknob turning and taking a final breath of resolve, he turned to face his mysterious visitor.
“Father Gabe.” stated the visitor as he walked into the room. Donned in the standard black robe and white collar, he extended his hand formally to Gabe. Feeling intimidated, Gabe reciprocated and shook the priest's hand.
Still distracted by the interlude with Lily, Gabe tried to push away his confusion in order to concentrate on this strange newcomer.
“What can I do for you today Father?” Gabe inquired politely, though his inner turmoil persisted. He was curious, however, by this unexpected visitor. Gabe was certain he knew all the Catholic priests in town by name, but this fellow’s identity eluded him.
Outside the room, Gabe could hear Father Matthew beginning the Sunday ceremony. Being the priest’s assistant, Gabe knew he must help with the service as soon as possible.
Part of Gabe’s job entailed distributing the host. He and Father Matt would stand at the head of the church and the congregation would form two lines to receive the host. Gabe noticed with disdain that his line up usually consisted of women.
He’d heard rumors that the women had nicknamed him ‘Father Babe’. Embarrassed by this, Gabe ignored their flirtatious glances, hoping they'd abandon their inappropriate behaviors.
Looking at the clock, Gabe was anxious; he hoped he could finish the conversation with this new priest quickly.
“My name is Father Francis.” The old priest began slowly as he perused a painting near the desk. “I've heard good things about you from Father Matthew.” He never looked at Gabe as he spoke, his eyes focused on the decorative artifacts in the room.
“Oh?” Gabe said, happy his peer had good words about him. Still, he was curious as to the motives of this visitor. He didn’t like to judge people, but this old guy kind of gave him the creeps.
Obviously not in a rush, the old priest took off his glasses and puffed warm breath on the lenses, cleaning them using his long black sleeve. His silver hair slicked straight back with brill cream, obviously in attempts to camouflage the bald spot. The wrinkles that overwhelmed his face indicated this man was well into his seventies. His piercing blue eyes were cold and hard.
The awkward silence lasted several minutes as the old priest seemed to be articulating what he wanted to say.
“Father Gabe…” the old priest finally began, “What do you know of exorcisms?” His voice was flat, his stature motionless as he spoke.
“Exorcisms?” Gabe repeated, startled by the question.
It was certainly not his favorite topic, his eyebrows inadvertently pulled together as he considered what he knew of them. He'd heard many terrible stories during his short time at the seminary, stories of vicious attacks by people under the influence of demons. Even though exorcisms were a pivotal part of the Catholic Church’s duties, Gabe had sincerely hoped he'd never have to face it.
“Well, not much really.” Gabe readily admitted, “There was a brief course on it during seminary school, but other than that, I only know the rumors.”
The old priest turned away and stared out the window. With his hands clasped firmly behind his back, he sighed heavily.
“I need your help.” Father Francis stated after several moments of silence.
“Help?” Gabe felt a fear rise in his throat; he prayed Father Francis was not asking him what he suspected.
“Yes.” The old priest turned to face Gabe with guarded fear flickering behind his eyes.
Swallowing hard, trying to ingest this uncomfortable idea, Gabe already knew.
“With an exorcism?” Gabe choked on the words as he forced them out.
Father Francis nodded
“If you don’t mind me asking…why me?” Gabe’s eyes were now wide with trepidation.
Sighing again, he explained, “Performing an exorcism is exhausting work. As far as I can tell, you are the youngest priest within the province. I need someone who will be able to assist me with the spiritual, as well as the physical tasks, of this particular case.”
It was true that Gabe was substantially younger than any of the priests within a hundred miles of Summerland. As far as he knew, all the priests in the area were in their sixties or older. He could see how this elderly man would need a young body to help him through such an event.
Now feeling morally and professionally obligated, Gabe closed his eyes and asked cryptically. “When?”
“This afternoon.” Father Francis stared emotionless at the young priest.
“This aft…” Gabe began but stopped short. He suddenly felt frightened.
This afternoon! He thought wearily. That gave him little time to prepare himself mentally or spiritually for this terrifying excursion. Not to mention, he yearned to find Lily and discuss what happened between them.
Before Gabe could finish working through his thoughts, yet another knock at the door interrupted the tiny room.
“Father Gabe?” A young boy’s voice whispered. Gabe recognized the voice as belonging to Tim, one of the altar boys.
Composing himself with a deep sigh, Gabe strode to the door and opened it. Young Tim, in his long white ceremonial garb, smiled politely at Father Gabe.
“Um, Father Matthew was worried about you. He sent me to check on you and see if you were coming out soon.”
Relieved to have an excuse to remove himself from the uncomfortable situation, he said to Tim, “Thank you. Tell Father Matt I’ll be there in a moment.”
Leaving the door open, Gabe turned to Father Francis, giving him an unspoken signal that the conversation was over.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, the old priest produced a black business card with white writing on the front. Handing it silently to Gabe and nodding a good-bye, the old priest walked out of the room.
Gabe shook his head as he tucked the business card into his pocket, pondering today's bewildering events as he left the room to assist Father Matt.
All things considered, he hadn't a day this emotionally disturbing since the day his father was killed.
Ghost Story
“Tony, my man, how are we feeling today?” David’s cheery voice preceded him as he entered room 217.
“Dr. Blake!” Tony answered, his brown eyes shining “Did you bring me that drive thru burger that I ordered?”
“Hah! Not on your life mister!” David chided back, grabbing Tony’s chart and glancing at the latest test results. He noticed Tony’s blood pressure had been erratic over the last couple of days.
Keeping his face positive, David closed the patient file and nonchalantly checked To
ny’s vitals for himself. Tony’s heart condition was nothing to take lightly. Two open heart surgeries in five years, this man had already used up most of his nine lives.
“So, grab any pretty nurses lately?” David teased as he pumped up the blood pressure cuff, stethoscope tucked tightly inside.
“No,” Tony responded slyly, “but the day ain’t over yet.” He grinned at David as he raised his thick grey eyebrows twice.
“Ha, ha, ha” David laughed as he removed the cuff, “nothing like a dirty old man to keep those nurses on their toes!”
“I asked one nurse if she’d like to play Ether Bunny with that laughing gas over there, I changed my mind when she said she'd order me an enema!” Tony giggled hysterically as David looked at him with a mortified expression.
“Tony!” David tried to smother a laugh.
The two men chatted for a bit, discussing baseball scores, hot nurses in the hospital and David’s upcoming golf tournament.
Tony had spent weeks recuperating from his last major open heart surgery. However, things were not moving along as well as David would have liked. It was beginning to look more and more like they'd have to do a heart transplant if this widowed grandfather of six was going to be around much longer.
As though he'd read David's thoughts, Tony spoke quietly. “Hey Doc?”
“Yeah Tony?” David replied quietly.
“I’m...getting worried” he said bluntly as tears invaded the corners of his eyes. David sensed where Tony was heading with this conversation.
Taking a deep breath, David sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him compassionately.
“Doc…do you think…do you think I’m going to get better?” Tony kept his eyes down as he fiddled with the sheets.
“Tony, I promise I'll do everything I can to keep you around for whole lot longer, okay?” David felt a lump forming in his own throat as he reached over and squeezed Tony’s shaking hand.
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