The Journey

by Jennifer Ensley

  “Alright. Alright. I’ll be good.”

  He opened a door and motioned for me to enter. We walked down the long hallway for several quiet steps before he next spoke.

  “I cannot recall ever speaking with a woman who so easily spills her thoughts.”

  “Liar… Are you trying to tell me I’m the first one to notice your obvious sex appeal? I find that rather hard to believe.”

  “I did not mean that. I wasn’t even certain you meant that. No… some women are rather blatant concerning such things. Yet, those kind are easy for me to ignore. Actually, I was speaking about how comfortable and free you are with your thoughts—even the bad ones.”

  We both chuckled.

  “Normally people, women more so than men, are visibly rigid and uptight when they come to a priest.”

  “Oh, that.” I shrugged my shoulders, then winced from the pain. “I got comfortable with that years ago. You’re just men, after all. Perhaps more devout in your beliefs than the everyday-joe, but a man all the same. Besides, I don’t normally get to carry on conversations with just regular guys. If I wasn’t at ease talking to priests and monks and Ang—” I bit my lip and paused. “Well… if I wasn’t comfortable around guys like you, I’d have to live a pretty miserable life.”

  He opened another door and led me into an office filled with books, and motioned for me to take a seat.

  “Can you tell me why I felt so at ease simply handing over one of our sacred manuscripts to you?”

  “Yeah, about that… I’m afraid I got some blood on it.”

  “Blood? Were you injured?”

  “Attacked in the park. Some dude stole my backpack—cut the strap right off my shoulder.”

  “Did anyone help you?”

  “A lady took me to the police station and an officer saw that I got all stitched up.”

  “Stitches?”

  “Yeah, hence the blood.” I reached for my shoulder. “It hurts like hell, now that the pain meds have worn off and I don’t even have a flippin’ Advil or anything. But don’t worry about the book. He only stole my possessions, not yours.”

  “Thank God you are okay.”

  I nodded my agreement.

  “What will you do now? Is there not anyone you can call?”

  “I called the bank. They froze my account, but the pecker-head had already wiped me out by then. As far as people… I’m all alone in this world now. My job’s a solitary one—no coworkers. Well, no coworkers I can call up on the phone.”

  “Yes… about that—”

  “I don’t know why you remembered me. Normally, the dude who hands me the requested tome doesn’t even make eye contact with me. Maybe things were different with you because I no longer have the stones. I just don’t know.”

  “Stones?”

  I sighed and leaned back in the chair. “I’m just gonna shoot straight with you, Father Robert. I’m a Witness for the prophesies of Revelation. That’s my job now. I was at the Tiger’s Nest Monastery when I meditated myself right into hell. Well, right into the Nether. Smells like you’d think hell would, though. A Seeker found me, gave me the keys to traverse the Otherworld, then took me to the bound Angel whose blood would fuel those access-granting stones. Now…” I held up my left hand. “I hold a blood bond with an Archangel. This is his mark. But, he’s currently busy with some super important summons. So… I’m stuck here until he finds me. That was the plan, anyway. Uriel told me to wait for him in Paris. Of course, that was before I was penniless and bleeding.”

  “Can you not just go back to the Nether, or send word somehow?”

  I smiled with only one corner of my mouth. “Nothing, huh? No amazed reaction? No… You’re a nutter of the tenth degree, lady, or marking me up as a delusional lunatic?”

  “It is not my place to say. I am Catholic. We have believed in much more absurdity through the years. With far less evidence, I might add.”

  “Yeah, a historically superstitious lot, to be sure.”

  “Yes.” He smiled. “No matter if I believe your story or not, I cannot deny that I was compelled to fulfill your previous request. I did not fear, or even feel uncomfortable, when you walked out that door with the rare text wrapped up in your arms.”

  “That’s one of the perks, for sure—not having to be all sneaky about what you want.”

  “Yes… Now, about going back into the Nether?”

  “I can’t stand that place. It gags me. Not to mention the fact that Paltiel is a total douchebag towards me. Still… I would go there now if I could.”

  “You can’t?”

  I shook my head. “I no longer have the keys. Gadriel confiscated them before Paltiel shoved me out here. Something bad is going on somewhere else on Earth. It’s got the Angels in an uproar. All of the portal passages have been closed—no in, no out, no nothing. Not right now. Uriel can hear me whispering his name, yeah. But if he can’t come, he can’t come. No… until this current mysterious crisis is resolved, I’m stuck here.”

  “Where would you go if you could make it to the Nether?”

  “Japan.”

  “Why Japan?”

  “That’s where Drella is—my Seeker. He showed me a certain bridge I could cross at dusk that would take me directly to him.”

  “Would that portal not be closed as well?”

  “…I have no idea.”

  “I see… So, where will you sleep?”

  “That’s why I came to you.”

  When his gorgeous eyes went wide, I chuckled.

  “Chill out, priest dude. You’re hot, alright, but I’ve got zero interest in getting funky with a Father.”

  He didn’t even blush. “I will take that as a compliment and an insult.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Anyway, I was wondering if the church here had places to put people like me. I’ve stayed in monasteries, share-houses, hostels, convents—you name it. They let me spend the last couple of nights at the police station. They were nice, yeah, but it’s not really somewhere you can actually rest. I’ve worn out my welcome there, though. So I came to you. What do you say, Father? Are you able to provide sanctuary for a lost and abandoned Witness?”

  “I can… if you promise to be quiet and remain hidden as much as possible. The accommodations are sparse and the food will be meager…”

  “Anything’s better than sleeping on the streets and eating out of garbage cans.”

  He smiled then. “I would never let that happen to you, child.”

  “Just call me Jem. Okay? Someone looking like you calling me child… it feels super weird.”

  He chuckled. “Per your request, Jem.”

  “Yeah, that’s better.”

  “Come with me.” He stood. “I will take you to your sanctuary.”

  *****

  My borrowed room was down two long corridors, up a spiral stone staircase, then last room on the right at the end of the hall.

  “I fear you probably won’t find these lacking accommodations up to your standards.” Father Robert turned the skeleton key and motioned for me to enter. “But I do hope you manage to get some rest.”

  I gave him a small, appreciative smile as I stepped inside.

  “You can go ahead and set your books on the table, there. I’ll return soon with some linens.”

  “Umm… Where’s the closest place to go pee?”

  He shot me that ridiculously handsome smirking smile. “The things that pop out of your mouth.”

  “What? Pee? How’s that bad?”

  He just opened the door and pointed to the other side of the narrow hallway. “The washroom is just straight across there. That’s the main reason I brought you to this particular wing. That… and people rarely come here anymore.”

  “I don’t blame them.” I placed my books on the table and turned back to face him. “If you forget and leave me here, I’ll be hopelessly lost. Some poor old priest will stumble across my dried up bones years from now—give him the shock of his life.”

  “I wi
ll not forget you, Jem,” he said through a smile. “I will return in a moment.”

  “Take your time, Father.” I ran my finger along the back of a dusty wooden chair. “I’ll just start cleaning up a bit.”

  “Do try to wait until I return. I’ll bring some things to help in the cleaning. Otherwise, you’ll stir all this up and won’t be able to breathe.”

  “Yeah… you’re probably right about that.”

  When he softly closed the door, I took a deep breath and looked around the room.

  “I’ve stayed in worse places, to be sure. Right now, this forgotten old room looks pretty much like a mansion.”

  I pulled off my police hoodie and rolled up my sleeves.

  *****

  “Ugh… I’m spent.”

  I tossed the blackened rag into the pan of dirty water and plopped down on the edge of the newly made bed just as the door opened.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Starving, yeah.”

  “Then I’ll bring you something to eat.”

  “If you don’t mind, will you hold off just a bit? I’m filthy. I’d like to take a long hot bath before I sit down to eat. Will that be alright?”

  “Anything you wish, Jem. I’ve only just brought up clean towels and assorted toiletries. It’s ready when you are.”

  “Assorted toiletries? Did you go shopping or something?”

  Father Robert stepped on into the room. “No. I didn’t have to. The Sisters keep a donation box here at the cathedral. Still, if there’s anything you need I haven’t thought of, please just ask.”

  “No, please. Don’t go to any more trouble on account of me. Anything you’ve found in the donation box will be perfect… and more than I’d even hoped for.”

  “I will give you some privacy then.”

  I stayed seated there on the bed, resting until his footsteps had long since faded away.

  Uriel… I’m staying at Notre Dame, in Paris. I will patiently wait for you.

  *****

  I turned the knobs on that old tub and smiled as steam began to fill the room.

  I have no idea how long I stayed there, soaking. I washed my hair twice and changed the water three different times. I didn’t want to get out.

  Finally, I conceded… wrapped one towel around my hair and another one around my body, then stared into the aged mirror at the swollen wound upon my back. It felt some better after the bath, but still hurt like hell.

  I sighed as I picked up my dirty clothes and headed back across the hall. I was gonna wait absolutely as long as possible before I had to put them back on again.

  When I opened the door to my room, the delicious scent of roasted chicken wafted over me. My stomach roared. Father Robert chuckled.

  “Looks like I made it just in time.” He finished filling the wine glasses and turned to face me. “Oh… Apologies.” He glanced away. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I shut the door. “I didn’t want to put these old things back on until I had no other choice. Looks like that time is now.” I sighed. “They reek of blood and sweat… and I feel so clean and fresh right now.”

  “I completely understand.” He walked over to the paper bag now sitting on the floor beside my bed. “That’s why I already took the liberty of picking you out some things from the donation box. I even hit up the lost and found.”

  “Lost and found?”

  “Pfft. You wouldn’t believe what all people leave behind after mass. They walk right out without their hats, coats, gloves. I even found a pair of ladies shoes one time.”

  “Shoes?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t even ask me how in the world they didn’t realize they were barefoot after they walked back outside.”

  “Your sermon must have been a real doozie that day. You stepped on her toes so many times, the heels just proved too painful an option to even consider.”

  He glanced back over his shoulder. “Still in the teasing mood, huh?”

  “I’m always in the teasing mood.”

  “Well, it suits you.” He dumped the contents of the paper bag out on my bed. “I hope something here suits you as well.”

  I moved to stand beside him, quickly snatching up a pair of white cotton panties.

  “Are these clean?”

  “Everything in the box is clean. The clothes and linens are picked up by the Sisters—washed, folded, and sorted by size. They are then reboxed and left at the back to be picked up by orphanages, women’s shelters, teen advocate groups and the like.”

  “And how did you know which size box to dig in?”

  “I guessed.”

  “Pffts… Well, looks like you rock at guessing in the panty department—perv.”

  He elbowed me. “Do you want me to take them back?”

  “Just try,” I said, bending over and quickly slipping them on. “There…” I smiled up at him. “…safe and sound.”

  He smiled with only one corner of his mouth. “Regardless of my vows… I am still a man. Show some restraint. Dress in the other room.”

  “Pffts. Whatever. You dress in the other room.”

  I grabbed a black t-shirt and held it up.

  “I picked that one… because I couldn’t find you a bra.”

  I looked up at him. “Huh?”

  “I chose a black shirt because of your lack of a bra.”

  “Oh… You noticed, huh? Well, not a lot I could do about that. Douchebag cut right through the strap. They tossed it at the hospital. I didn’t mind. It’s not like I’d be able to stand anything touching the wound anyway.”

  “Yes… Let me see how it’s healing.”

  When I turned my back toward him, he sucked in a sharp breath.

  “I know, right? It feels just about as bad as it looks.”

  “That’s one angry looking wound.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Let me tend to it before you get dressed.”

  “You brought some gauze?”

  “I brought everything we had.” He led me over to the table and motioned for me to sit. “I’m not sure how much help I can be. You really need to see a doctor.”

  “No money.”

  “Yes… I know. I could call one here…”

  “But then someone would find out that you’re hiding me.”

  “I’m not concerned for myself, Jem.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I understand completely. The politics that rule big religion, huh?”

  “Yes. If someone else knew where you were staying…”

  “I’d be out on the streets.”

  “Possibly, yes. I am not without friends. Yet… we are not the only votes here.”

  “Seriously, Father, I don’t want you getting in trouble over me. Maybe it’d be best if you just took me to the Sisters—”

  “No.” He cleared his throat. “It’s my duty to see to you.”

  “Your duty?”

  “Yes. My heart is compelled in this thing.”

  “Your heart? Aww… Are you falling in love with me?”

  I laughed when he flicked the towel wrapped about my head.

  “I am supposed to help you… that’s how I feel.”

  “Good enough for me.” I flinched and sucked air in through my teeth when he poured antiseptic on my shoulder. “Dang it, Priest.” I held my breath for a second before slowly releasing it. “Hooo… leee… hell.”

  “Language, Jem.”

  “Language my arse. Are you trying to make me cry?”

  “No. I’m trying to help you.”

  “What was that?”

  “Peroxide.”

  “Mixed with fire and brimstone?”

  “Pffts… No.” He gently dabbed something soft near my stitches. “I’m trying to boil out the infection.”

  “Boil being the operative word.”

  “Perhaps you should have a sip of wine.”

  I grabbed the glass and downed about half of it in one go.

  “Try to save the r
est until you get some food in your belly.”

  I only nodded and swallowed hard.

  “This won’t take much longer. I promise.”

  I held my breath, whimpered, and even shed a couple of tears over the next few minutes.

  “There we go.” He taped a clean bandage over it. “Feel better?”

  “I feel like I gonna be sick to my stomach.”

  “I’m sorry, Jem. Here…” He handed me an oversized shirt. “I couldn’t find a proper nightdress, so I brought you one of my undershirts. I hope you don’t mind. At least… it should be more comfortable—not touching you anywhere too tightly.”

  “This is yours?” I tugged the towel off my head and tried to slip the t-shirt on. “Dang it…”

  “Let me help.”

  Father Robert stretched the shirt and gently guided my left arm into the sleeve. I shimmied out of the towel then and plopped back down in the chair.

  “Can we eat now? I’m afraid I’m gonna be sick if I don’t.”

  “Whenever you are ready.”

  He closed his eyes and said grace over our meal.

  “Thanks, Father. This looks delicious.” I took a bite and rolled my eyes. “Mmm… This is delicious.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “Did you order this?”

  “I cooked it.”

  “Are you being serious?”

  He nodded. “I was afraid I’d taken too long and you’d be completely famished. But you soaked for a long time. I had it ready exactly when I was supposed to have it ready.”

  “Bless you, Father.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think that’s the way it goes.”

  “I meant what I said.” I playfully winked at him before refilling my wine glass.

  “I’m certain that you did. Bless you, child.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Couldn’t let that one slide, huh?”

  “I fear it is in my nature.”

  “Pffts… Priests.”

  Father Robert only chuckled again, refilling his wine glass as well.

  *****

  I smiled at him across the table as I wiped my mouth and tossed my napkin across my empty plate. “I’m not complaining, mind you… but, how did you pull all this off?”

  “Carefully and unassumingly.”