Aisle of the Dead

by Joseph E. Wright

  “We didn’t expect to see you here,” Pat said and smiled.

  “They wanted me to stay, but I insisted there was no need. Besides, with only one priest now, I’ll be needed tomorrow morning.”

  Pat held open the bedroom door for the Saint Alban’s rector. “But that… that attack you had, was it?”

  Father Sieger smiled. “No, it wasn’t a heart attack, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was shock, that’s certain, seeing… seeing Grace… But thank God it wasn’t anything more than a momentary fright. I must get some rest now, if I can. Tomorrow is Sunday, remember?”

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  The sun burst out in all its warmth and glory the next morning. The garden around Saint Alban’s was drenched with moisture, the flowers laden with dew and giving off a sweet scent which filled the air. Pat and Phillis had risen early and had joined Father Sieger for breakfast. Hymn and Err were begging at the dining room table for pieces of bacon.

  “I don’t know how any of us here at Saint Alban’s will ever be able to thank you,” the priest said. “Without your help. But it is heartbreaking, just the same. So very, very ironic, and I have no one to blame but myself. I should be the one sent to prison. I should have known what was going on.”

  “But how could you have known?” Pat asked.

  “I often wondered why Grace never seemed to have any money. She didn’t make much here, but she was always so penniless, so destitute. I find out now from you that Diane Knollys was blackmailing her because of her past. Grace must have lived in constant mortal fear of being found out. And because of that fear, she killed Diane and that led to her killing Paul and Sherrill Rothe. So very sad and so very unnecessary. Grace was afraid of what I would think if I found out about her past, about her killing her husband, and all the while I knew the whole story. If only I had told her I knew, none of this need ever have happened.”

  “You did what you thought was right, Father,” Phillis told him. “You couldn’t have known things would turn out like this.”

  Father Sieger told them he had to prepare for mass and excused himself.

  They went upstairs to pack their bags.

  “I feel so sorry for Father Sieger,” Pat said as they came back downstairs. “He feels guilty. In a way, he’s the real victim of the atrocities that were committed here.”

  Phillis nodded. “He’ll carry that burden the rest of his life, I fear.”

  “Shall we, too, go to mass this morning?”

  Phillis shrugged and smiled. “Why not?”

  The church was little more than half full when they entered. They took a pew near the back. The organ was softly playing Bach’s Sheep May Safely Graze. More parishioners came in. There was silence, then the organ filled the air as the choir passed up the center aisle, led by the crossbearer, and followed by the deacon and Father Sieger as celebrant.

  Phillis whispered in Pat’s ear, “Grace was right about one thing.”

  He nodded. “I know.” He looked around and saw that the male congregation far outnumbered the female. “The city’s gay population is well represented here today, isn’t it?”

  Father’s sermon that morning was filled with much that those seated in the pews did not fully appreciate. Many could not yet know the heaviness that was in his heart. He stressed the importance of forgiving, of understanding the weaknesses of others, just as we would hope to be forgiven and understood. After mass, he stood at the main door of the church, the one which led out into the garden. There he greeted his flock.

  “We must be on our way,” Pat said to the rector as he took his hand.

  “I understand,” Father Sieger said and in a move which Pat did not anticipate, threw his arms around him, then did the same to Phillis.

  As Pat pulled away, he could see tears in the priest’s eyes.

  “Please do keep in touch,” Father Sieger said to both of them. “I mean that. Anytime you’re in this part of the city, please feel free to stop by and say hello. You will both always be considered honorary members of Saint Alban’s.”

  They promised they would keep in touch.

  Nelson Paquette saw them as they stood for a moment in the garden looking up at the church. He came over, both hands outstretched and took theirs in his.

  “You seem aglow this morning,” Pat said to him.

  Nelson could not suppress the smile which broke out across his face. “I am meeting my son today, and we are going to have Sunday dinner together.”

  “That’s wonderful!” Phillis exclaimed.

  They walked down the path towards the old iron gate.

  “Youse two leavin’ us?” a voice called out to them.

  “That can only be Beatrice,” Pat said under his breath. Aloud, he called out, “Afraid so, Beatrice.”

  She came from behind the old oak tree in the cemetery, brushing her apron as she walked towards them. She was carrying a small bouquet of flowers which she silently pushed towards them.

  “Thank you, Beatrice,” Pat said as he took the flowers from her. Again he was taken by surprise. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. She did the same to Phillis, then turned and hurried away.

  “I think it has been much more than worth our time being here, don’t you?” Phillis asked.

  “Yes. I had no idea we were appreciated so much.”

  “Or loved so much. I wonder what will happen to Beatrice Mulrooney, nee O’Brien?”

  “Beatrice will be all right. She’s so tough, she’ll survive somehow.”

  They walked down the flagstone path and through the gate, then turned around to take one last look at the place they had known for only a few days. They were sorry to leave. Without another word, they started to walk along the sidewalk on Sycamine Street. As they were about to turn the corner and head towards the parking garage, voices called out their names. They turned and saw two men hurrying towards them. It was Kelsey Quentin and Tom Benson.

  “We couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye,” Kelsey told them.

  “Not that we won’t see you again,” Tom said. “In a couple of days we’ll both have some vacation time. We expect to be in Atlantic City for a few days. Will you two still be there on vacation?”

  “Of course,” Pat told them. “We’d enjoy getting together. You two going to be on a… a honeymoon?”

  Kelsey chuckled and stroked his beard. He seemed a trifle embarrassed. Tom answered for both of them. “You could call it that,” he said. “Someone had to take this one out of circulation.” He good-humoredly poked Kelsey in the ribs. “We’ll call you when we get there.”

  As they waited in the parking garage for their car, Pat addressed Phillis: “See, I told you if you stayed out of it, those two would get together on their own, didn’t I? That reminds me, we didn’t tell them which hotel we’re staying at.”

  “No need. I already told them.”

  “Oh. But… when? I mean, why would you have…? Phil, did you have anything to do with…?”

  Phillis smiled mischievously. “I’ll never say. Here’s our car.”

  Pat got in on the driver’s side. “Just the same, I do wish you’d stay out of other peoples’….”

  “Be quiet and let’s get going,” she urged him. “Maybe we’ll be able to finish our vacation without any more interruptions.”

  “We will as long as Aunt Molly doesn’t send us any more of her problems.”

  THE END