Strange Gods
Page 38
Then he opened his mouth in a breathless scream that echoed throughout the hall. At the same time he pulled a small pistol from beneath the layers of watered silk and lace that so garishly identified him as a prince of the Church.
With a shaking hand he aimed the pistol in the direction of the pope.
Rodriguez, sitting to the pope’s right, had been facing the audience throughout the speech and had particularly been watching the reactions of his old nemesis Mendoza. When Mendoza raised his hand, Rodriguez realized what was happening and leapt up from his seat, up the two steps, toward the pope. He shoved Pope Michael down into a chair on the dais and stood where the pope had been.
Two shots rang out. Within seconds the non-uniformed Swiss guards, who were standing just below the dais, rushed toward Mendoza.
For a second after the shooting, there was an eerie silence throughout the hall. The cardinals around Mendoza were frozen in place, too frightened to move or speak. They seemed like schoolchildren waiting to be rescued or just hoping to be told what to do. Rodriguez felt a burning pain as a bullet ripped through his coat and shirt and penetrated his chest, just above the heart. His aorta had been nicked. The other bullet grazed Rodriguez’s forehead, causing blood to pour down his face. Monsignor Rodriguez fell backward onto the lap of Pope Michael, who was seated in the chair behind him. Mendoza didn’t move. The Swiss guard wrestled him to the ground and pounded the revolver out of his hand, breaking some of his fingers in the process.
With blood pouring out of Rodriguez’s chest and head, O’Toole lay his secretary’s body down on the dais. He knelt down beside him and started to pray. By now the Swiss guard had reached Pope Michael. They intended to pull him out of the hall and away to safety. But the pope refused. He continued to kneel beside his wounded secretary and wiped the blood off his face, making the sign of the cross on Rodriguez’s forehead in a kind of anointing.
By now Mendoza was in handcuffs and being dragged out of the Synod Hall. EMTs were pushing in through the panicked audience. The pope was now cradling the motionless body of his secretary. With a final effort, Rodriguez reached his right hand up to grasp the pectoral cross that hung around Pope Michael’s neck, and used the chain of the cross to pull the pope closer to him.
He whispered to Pope Michael, “Listen to me. These are evil men. They will never, ever give up until …”
Monsignor Rodriguez closed his eyes and was gone. Pope Michael rested his head on the dead priest’s chest and cried. By this time Father Kelleher had pushed his way down the auditorium aisle and knelt beside Pope Michael at Rodriguez’s head. The pope tried to wipe the blood from Rodriguez’s now lifeless face. Kelleher pulled the pope’s hand away from Rodriguez and helped him to his feet.
Pope Michael was covered in Rodriguez’s blood.
For two or three seconds they stood surveying the chaos around them. People were screaming. Some cardinals still in the front row had rosaries, while others held cell phones to their ears. The Swiss guard then pushed the pope and Kelleher out the side door of the Synod Hall to safety in the conference room.
Once in the conference room, Pope Michael turned toward Kelleher and said matter-of-factly, “The schism has begun.”
Epilogue
GENERATION
NATE AND BRIGID WERE FINISHING THEIR SUNDAY MORNING jog. Nate knew that this was one of those inexplicable make-sense moments that, no matter how long he might live, would never be forgotten.
It was autumn in New York, and Central Park was never more beautiful than it was at that time of year. New Yorkers were sharing one of those rare fall days with breathtakingly crisp air. Always in late October, the beautifully elegant leaves of the gingko trees go from green to gold and almost instantly fall to the ground, creating pathways of golden snow.
It was their favorite time of year. Brigid felt a special connection to the park and especially to this spot at the Bethesda Fountain, where they ended their run. They shared a few moments stretching and just soaking in that wonderful high that made the ten miles more than just a necessary inconvenience.
Central Park was more than a place. For Brigid it was a state of mind. Nate could never bring up the topic of Central Park without stating that this grand space, smack-dab in the middle of a great city, allows you to get away without actually being away.
They could hear the sound of the bells announcing the many Sunday services at the great churches and cathedrals that lined the perimeter of the park.
The events of the past several months left Nate and Brigid in very different places regarding their own spiritual journeys. Places that neither had ever expected to go.
Nate needed time away from the childhood security rooted in the religion of his youth. Brigid found that she was more open to spiritual things than she had ever thought she would be. Her blossoming friendship with Sister Miriam was not only an inspiration, but also a source of comfort and hope.
As Nate got up from the concrete bench that circles the fountain, Brigid gripped his hand and pulled him back toward her. Brushing his hair back with her fingers, she gently kissed him on the lips and whispered in his ear, “We’re pregnant.”
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Monsignor John Myslinski was born in Salem, Massachusetts, and was raised in the Boston area, where he attended Catholic schools and university. He received his BA from Boston College and then joined and remained a member of the Jesuits (New England Province) for eight years. John served as a federal officer with the Capitol Police in Washington, DC, prior to entering the seminary at Mt. St. Mary’s, where he received his MA in Divinity.
He was ordained to the priesthood for the Archdiocese of Washington. As the “TV priest” for the District of Columbia, he was the host of the program Real to Reel for six years and celebrated the television Mass for the Washington metropolitan area for eight years. John served as a chaplain in the Air Force Reserves, and was the pastor of St. Mary’s Parish in Rockville, Maryland, for over a decade. John spent many years working with and for the homeless community in the DC area.
He has the double honor of being named Washingtonian of the Year by Washingtonian magazine in 1993 for his work with the homeless, and being named a Monsignor by Pope John Paul II in 2005. In a letter to John on the occasion of his honor by the magazine, President George H. W. Bush wrote, “I commend you for your selfless commitment to those in need, and I thank you for helping to make our Nation’s Capital a better place to live.”
* * *
Father Peter Daly grew up on the South Side of Chicago, one of eight children. He attended Catholic schools throughout high school and then the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, where he received his BA in Religious Studies. For five years after college, he built housing for poor and handicapped people in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia through a small non-profit corporation he established.
Peter received his JD from Catholic University and practiced law in the nation’s capital. Feeling the call to the priesthood, he entered the seminary and was sent to the North American College in the Vatican, where he lived for five years. He holds an STB degree from the Gregorian University and an STL degree from the Lateran University, both in Rome. He was ordained to the priesthood for the Archdiocese of Washington in 1986.
He has served at various parishes, notably St. John Vianney in Prince Frederick, Maryland, where he has been pastor since 1994. He was a syndicated columnist for the Catholic News Service for twenty years and has written for the Washington Post and the National Catholic Reporter. He has continued his commitment to housing for the poor, helping to found Safe Nights (a program for homeless men and women) and a major housing project in Nicaragua, which has built more than 220 houses in and around San Juan de Limay.
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