Lizzi Bizzi and the Red Witch
Page 44
Translation by Davide Paskualon
Father Anselm kept his eyes closed, until a devoted man did not entered in the confessional. Then Father Anselm moved the curtain away, in front of him, and he starred the external. The church looked desert and he thanked Havens for that. Luckily that was the last.
He closed again the curtain and he stayed on the grate. A weak lamp overhelmed and it lightly illuminated the room. Father Anselm did not see anyone to the other side, so the devoted man had not yet kneeled. He was hiding, immersed in the darkness, and he could not be identified. This discretion did not surprise him, because he already had seen it other times. Father Anselm recited the famous formula, then a Pater Noster to purify the room. No voice joined him.
«Son, how long do you confess?».
He had no mode knowing what the penitent was, male or female, less than his age.
«This is the first time, Father».
Father Anselm could not even understand it hearing his voice. Without inflexions, however strange. Anselm considered the possibility that the man was not an italian.
«Son, do you come from far away?».
«I suppose yes, Father. Far away».
«Are you… catholic?». And the priest continued: «Are your kin catholic?».
A long silence. «I don’t know, Father».
It was irritating to fail to frame it in any way. «Do you intend to come to our religion?».
This was not a problem to debate in a confessional, then added immediately: «Have you been baptized?».
He was not sure how he would react, in case he had denied it. The baptize is essential before he can access any other sacrament.
«I think I’m wrong. To pay the price for something».
«This is not a tribunal, son. If you think…».
«I don’t know! You have to tell me, Father. You have to know if I was wrong».
Father Anselm sigh. He was no younger and in his life he had found himself in many strange situations.
«Do you believe in God?».
«Yes».
«Which God?».
«There are other gods? Because I thought there was only one».
«What is the name which you know him?».
«Name… God has no name. Other people want to attribute it».
«How is your God?».
Another long silence. Father Anselm only wished he could stretch his legs. He was closed on the confessional for two hours.
«I am God. You are God. God is everywhere, God is in everything. We are all God, all that has been created is part of him».
How do you rebut such a claim? That sinner is not the only one to think so, although Father Anselm considered certain considerations too much philosophical.
«Do you really think it?».
«Yes, Father».
«Do you love him?».
«Who?».
«God; Do you love him?». And the priest continued: «What do you feel for him?».
Finally a movement beyond the grate, but the figure was so vague to identify it.
«I am not here for this, Father».
«You did not answer me».
«The question has no answer, it has not sense».
«Why do you say this?».
«I answered you that God is all. Why do you want to talk about love?».
«What relationship do you have with God?». And the priest continued again: «Did you accept him?».
«Yes, I accept him!».
«Did you accept his will, whatever it is?».
«I am here, or not?».
«And you want to stay here, or not?».
Maybe the confession was about to begin.
«No».
But his voice was without emotions, inexpressive, always.
«Why are you here?».
«You have to tell me this, Father. I came to ask you this. Why am I here?».
Father Anselm raised an eyebrow. «You… You want to know… Why do you exist and what is the reason of all?».
Another movement beyond the grate. «Yes, the reason. The reason of all».
Father Anselm sigh again, feeling himself embarrassed. Being a Priest did not exempt him to being a pragmatic man. These issues were left to theologians.
«Why are you here, what encourage you?».
«Everyone comes here. Everyone comes to you. You tell them what is right and what is wrong. You forgive your sins».
«Have you commit a sin?».
«I don’t know».
He was just wasting time. Those were not the answers he needed. «Should I be telling you if you’ve sinned?».
A jolt. «Yes, Father. I need it! Tell me where I was wrong!».
«What did you do?».
«I do not understand…».
«Why do you think you have sinned?».
«I’m here».
«Are you in this church?».
«Yes».
Father Anselm feel as he was being laughed. He considered the possibility that it was some child who wanted to joke.
«Come here, I want to see you».
But nothing moved.
«Who are you?».
That was not a question to be asked in a confessional, but that was not a confession.
The curtain moved and a small opening of light came for a moment, he managed to see a dress.
Then the darkness.
Father Anselm got up quickly and moved the curtain away, bringing your head out from the confessional.
The church was desert, there was nothing moving, in that dim light illuminated by candles. He went out, stretching his legs and adjusting the dress, without losing sight of the church entry. So he checked the two secondary outputs, one of them next to the confessional, but both were closed with a key.
Always more confused, he controlled again the church, every possible hideout, but there was no trace of the sinner.
He felt a strange sensation, in front of the entrance door, he wanted to close it.
He came back, adjusted candles opposite from the portrait of Saint Clare, then he crossed the church and he knelt down in front of statue of Saint Francis. He was his favorite saint, because he had always tried to characterize existence according to his teachings. Then Anselm crossed the central nave, looking around him.
He stood in front of the altar, exactly in front of the wooden statue of Jesus executed on the cross. The Father feel another shiver, recalling the strange visit he had received. He had a bad presentiment and he was sure he would still met his sinner.
Very early.
«Hurry! The Mass will begin in an hour!».
The workmen were used to be scolded and they did not answer to the priest. The workmen continued to bolt the new benches.
Father Anselm looking around him, content. His church was getting better and more beautiful. The Lord would have been happy. The building was in the neighborhood for ten years already and the early times had been difficult. Then Father Anselm had just a big room available, which in the past was a gym, but thanks to generosity of the locals the church was improved, after many days.
It was a long and difficult journey, but after a relocation of one year and now the building is a fantastic church of the Lord, the church he had always wanted. There were many things missing, sure, but there were no problems. Soon he would celebrate God’s glory.
Father Anselm nodded to the furniture vendor, approaching with him. «I want another two benches for the next week».
«Sure, Father Anselm».
Early, very early, Father Anselm thought, the church would be perfect. «The stoups?».
«Naturally, Father, I brought fliers to you. I recommend our new technological stoups that they are comfortable. They are available in many different models».
Father Anselm furrowed his front. «Will they jarring with the room?».
«Absolutely not!», said the seller. «Maybe, votive candles are a sign of the past, when you will decide to replace them with our electronic offertory…».
«Is it wonderful, right?». And the vendor continued: «Have you make a choice?».
«Yes, I want the wooden statue. I do not want nothing of gypsum or plaster in my church».
«Sure, Father! I would never propose to you such a thing».
«It’s not the moment, I’m waiting a sizable donation».
«Sure Father, the statue will always be obtainable. And the stoup?».
He pointed to the catalogue. «This look like real marble. Is it obtainable in a deep color, too?».
«I will let you see».
The vendor advanced for a few minutes, controlling the list full of illustrations. The workmen finished their job and they went away, kneeling before going out from the church.
Father Anselm control the price, but the vendor, who knew him well, he had already prepared to give him a discount. When the vendor went away, they were satisfied, both of them were convinced of being smart.
Father Anselm, in that moment, he noticed a person in the confessional: someone had come in there and he was waiting. The Father had been too busy to realize it, but the was on the confessional leave any doubt: it was time to work.
Father sigh and went to listen his loyal.
«Therefore, son, confess to me your sins».
A strange silence beyond the grate. Father Anselm knew what was happening.
«Oh, you are. Why did you go way?».
Just silence.
That evening Father Anselm felt himself more available. His knees did not hurt him and he was still happy for the deal.
So the priest used a reassuring voice. «Would you like to stay here?».
«No, Father».
«Was it your choice come here?».
«No, Father».
Without emotions, always. It was not a impassive or a proud voice, just without emotions. Was it possible that he could not imagine his face yet? Father Anselm wanted to understand, without rest.
«Has anyone forced you to come here?».
«Yes, Father».
Short answer, with no hesitation. Father Anselm felt himself more smart, in that moment.
«And you see all as a punishment, or not?».
«Is it not?».
«You must say that».
«I don’t know. I was hoping you were telling me».
«Why me?».
«You know all. You answer to any question. You know what is right and what is wrong».
«How can you say that?».
«I heard you. People come here full of doubts and you have an answer for all».
«What does it mean?».
«They do not know what to do, they do not know how to react, they even do not if their reaction is right or wrong. But you have no doubts, give them an explanation».
«I don’t…».
«I heard you, I told you. I can hear all you say».
Embarrassment grew in him and Father Anselm began to be upset on the bench. It was being uncomfortable. «What does it mean to hear the confessions? They are secret and nobody have to listen them. They are turned to God, I am just a means».
«You absolve. You release from the sin».
«Which sin?».
«I don’t know, I’m looking a cause, a reason».
«How can I help you? I don’t know who are you, I don’t know what you did. Maybe You don’t know, too. I need to know more!».
«And it will resolve everything?».
It was a delicate moment, essential. Father Anselm could not take that liberty. And what he can resolve? His only instrument was the confidence in God and he was sure the Lord would stay with him. God would have enlightened his way, it would help him.
«Yes, I will do it».
There was a sound, a creaking, as if the penitent was quiet and comforted.
«Will I go back?».
What a Dilemma! The only safe thing was that it was not Italian. He had come from a far country, maybe he was a slave of men without scruples. Anselm could imagine his journey on a barge, amass with his friends, like animals.
However something jarring with this story: his perfect Italian language, while strange.
«I will do it», said Father Anselm. He was sure he could help the strange man, in some way. The priest wanted to protect him, organize his return to home.
A long silence, more then other times. Unexpected after that promise.
«Can you really bring things back as before?».
Father Anselm was sure. «Yes, we can».
«I did not succeed».
The voice of Father Anselm was placate. «You are not alone, son. You are here, now, you are in the hands of God».
«How can you do it?».
«Tell me about you. Everything. We will found a way to return to you the peace».
«Thank you, Father».
«Where are you from?».
«I don’t know father».
«Where were you first?», said the priest. «How was your home?».
«It was a forest, Father. A wonderful forest, a green land. This place is grizzly, it’s horrible. Where is the green?».
Father Anselm sigh. «There is scant color, I know it. You have to get away from the city to find it».
«So does it still exist?».
«Sure, son. Don’t worry. Somewhat, how did you come here?».
«They were men, Father».
«Did you know them?».
«No, Father».
«And them… Did they bring you here against your will?».
«Yes, Father».
Father Anselm considered the possibility of calling the police. The priest personally knew the commissar who could have helped. He did not deal with clandestines, but he could have called somebody.
«How did they bring you here?». The priest continued: «With a ship?».
«Yes, with a ship on the water».
«How are you here?». The priest continued: «Have they hurt you?».
«Yes, they hurt me, more. They hurt me again». A long silence. «They separated me».
Father Anselm furrowed the front. «Are you saying you were not alone? Have you a family? Did they separate you from your family?».
«Yes, separate».
«And did they take them away? Did you know where are they?».
«I don’t know, Father».
«It’s terrible», said Father Anselm. «And you… Are you a prisoner? Can you run away?».
«You must make me free, Father. I’m here for this».
Father Anselm felt upset himself, in front of a similar faith. «I will do it, I promise you». But then, appear a doubt. «But if they control you… How did you get here, you ran away?».
«I can’t move me. I can’t run away».
That answer was without a logic. The embarrassment turned, more then before. «Who are you? Let me see you. You can do it».
Something moved again, in the dark side of the confessional. In a moment the curtain was pulled. Father Anselm place himself near the grate trying to see him. A mantle covered his figure, but, just for a moment, the priest managed to see the face of a beautiful girl. A vanishing image, too short to remember it. A familiar impression who fade immediately.
Father Anselm pull the curtain and run away from the confessional, but the church was like a desert. He looking around himself, looking for the slightest movement, so he decide to run to the secondary outputs. Then he could not to continue the pursuit, because many loyals come in the church to listen the mass.
«Did you hear that too?».
The plumber furrowed the front. «Are you sure there is no heating system?».
Father Anselm snorted. «This is a church! On colder days we use two little stoves on the sides of the altar, but it’s spring. They are off by months!».
«The humidity is high», said the plumber.
«I know and every day is worse! Loyals began to report me how I sweat! Do yo
u think it’s fault of a loss?».
«I do not know what it can be, if there is no one heating system!».
«Maybe… Humidity come from another place. There is inevitably a loss!».
«What will be the temperature? Because I can’t breathe».
Father Anselm make a strange face. «Thirty three degrees».
«There are only twenty one degrees outside!».
«I know it!», said Father Anselm, screaming nearly. «For this reason I calling you!».
«It is not normal a difference of twelve degrees».
Father Anselm move his head. «The church was recently build. This is the first year who we pray here inside. Maybe there is an error during the construction».
The plumber turned around for the church. He was watching the stoup, then he walked to the votive candles, next to the statue of Saint Clare. Father Anselm was ready to explode for the rage: that man can not believe that the hot was caused by a few candles! However, he thought to buy the electronic offertory.
He approached the plumber. «Look! Look the statue! The paint is ruining! I bought it recently!».
The plumber fixed the statue, then he put his hand on the painted dress staining himself. «And is it all anywhere?».
«Yes, throughout the church».
The plumber walked turned around the benches.
«It is all new!», said Father Anselm. «We bought them just now!».
The plumber touch lightly the surface of a bench, afterwards he went toward the altar. He stopped before the wooden statue of Jesus because, despite the moment, that place embarrassed him.
«Then, what should I do?».
The plumber shaked the head. «I can not help you. You must talk with the architect of the church. I do not know what is the problem. I have no idea».
Father Anselm almost growled.
«Quickly», said the plumber. «The temperature raise up, in a little while the degrees will become too high». The plumber smiled. «However, we can put air-conditioning. They will resolve the problem».
Father Anselm blanched, thinking about all the money he would spend.
«Is it wonderful, Father?».
Yes, it is perfect. The statue of Saint Joseph looked be alive. Workers had just finished to assemble it and they were near to finish the adornments.
The vendor showed his smile. «Touch it, please! You will touch a real wood, wood of high quality. We import it from the Amazon’s forests!».
Vanity. Father Anselm resist to touch lightly the statue. He can not do what the seller wanted.