by Stephen Cote
linguini. He's supposed to go to the Thompson's." Tabitha rang off.
Christine grimaced and folded her hands together. She had not accounted for that Craig knowing anyone from church. Nor had she anticipated Father Jay having any invitations to dinner. She couldn't shake the feeling that strange, mystic eyes watched her with more scrutiny than ever before.
Christine placed her finger on the button to speed dial Father Jay when the phone rang.
She heard an odd, though distinct sound in the background, and she recognized it as the same background noise from the prank calls. Nonetheless, she tried to be civil and said, "Christine Wolfe's, Jesus be with you."
"Tell my son to reread Isaiah one, four."
"Please stop this!" But the phone line went dead before her voice carried through her mouth.
Christine hung her head in her hands, licking her lips. She couldn't recall Isaiah one, four, and prayed for the prankster to stop harassing her. She speed dialed Father Jay.
"Only God's footsteps know the road to salvation." Father Jay sounded tired.
"Father?"
"Ah, Christine, my daughter. How may I be of service?"
"Yes.” She paused, struggling to remember Isaiah one, four. "Father, do you remember Isaiah one, four?" She hoped not to annoy him with a petty question. Then again, how could a question about the Good Book be petty? Before Father Jay answered, she said, "Tabitha mentioned you are visiting with the Thompsons."
"Ah, sinful nation, a people loaded with guilt, a brood of evildoers, children given to corruption! They have forsaken the Lord; they have spurned the Holy One of Israel and turned their backs on him." Father Jay fell quiet, and then said, "And yes, I am." He inhaled, "Oh, dear me, Christine. I should have known you'd be concerned. But they say that their son, Yuri, has reformed. He wrote me every week while he was incarcerated."
Christine had not forgotten that the Thompsons fraternized with a criminal element, and were given to wickedness. Especially their middle son, Yuri, dealing drugs and going to prison. "They are armed with bows and spears, they are cruel and without mercy."
"Jeremiah fifty, forty one. Dear child,” Father Jay laughed softly. "I don't think it is quite that bad. Yuri made a mistake and he made his amends."
"He dealt cocaine to fifth grade students right after they received communion," Christine argued. But, she didn't feel it was her argument, rather one from a higher and superior force. "And remember Revelations."
"Are you picking these at random or are you guided by a higher purpose?"
"Father Jay," Christine gave in, "I have had my own trials today. "
"Then pray with me, and remember the triumphs we made that day confessional."
The day was forever etched into her mind.
Jeromy's death was unexpected, but it wasn’t sudden. Right until the very end, they planned for his death and then, suddenly, he died in her arms. The doctors claimed it was a blood clot in the brain, although a second resident confided he thought the symptoms suggested tampered medication. Possibly poison. Christine chose to believe the first doctor, who hadn’t offered conspiracy theories.
His death had been a trial. Is death ever anything else? Father Jay helped reassemble the remaining pieces of her life. He encouraged her to establish the Divine Comment. He counseled her on Tabitha's absurd attraction to that Craig. But, the day in the confessional Father Jay referred to had nothing to do with Jeromy, Tabitha, that Craig, or herself. She left a dark secret there; a secret once safely tucked away until the pain of Jeromy's death washed over her and caused its memory to resurface.
Then, Christine wore an emerald green gown, kneeling on the plush bar jutting from the confessional wall, close enough so her body brushed against the wood. Father Jay's voice carried delicately - a fleeting sound of angels singing - through the screen.
"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are though amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen." Both Father Jay and Christine repeated the Hail Mary four more times.
"Has there been any significant change since last we spoke?" Although Father Jay held a formal demeanor through the screen, they both knew one another by voice alone. She had chosen him, and he only had to wait for her.
"Father," tears filled her eyes. Never before had she felt so lost, afraid and dirty. "I have done a terrible wrong, Father."
"Easy child. Ask and thou shall be forgiven."
"Please forgive me, Father," she begged. And how she had begged. Even though her beloved husband had died, she could not think of what tempted her down such a sinful path. The sin felt worse than the loss of her Jeromy.
"What is it you wish to confess, my daughter?"
"My daughter," she began, but faltered.
"Tabitha?" Father Jay asked.
"Alexis. She was dating that Jeffrey, the troublemaker from Bellevue. Pregnant at fifteen, and -"
"The weight of the sin has passed, my child. Let it travel beyond you, the ordeal is over. You have only to confess your sins to God and he shall forgive." Father Jay sounded agitated, quickly returning to a reverent tone.
"And I was so mad," Christine clenched her fists. "So very mad at the both of them. I made her -"
"An abortion?" Father Jay whispered.
"I made her have a -" Christine couldn’t say the word. The sin, as the Father had told her, tried to pass: There came a warm light-headedness of God's fingertips on her crown, reaching into the darkest places, trying to absolve those sins for which she was sincerely apologetic. But it wouldn’t budge.
"She did not make this decision? You made the choice?" Father Jay asked.
"Yes," she said. The thought, that filthy thought, brought her to shiver in the small cubicle as a gust of ethereal cold air passed through her. The sin.
"My child," he said. "My daughter."
"I'm so sorry!" Christine broke down in tears. How could there be salvation from murder?
Father Jay walked Christine through an old and unfamiliar penance.
"I am going to share something with you. You must never reveal what I’m about to say to anyone else." Father Jay waited for Christine to promise she wouldn't say anything. "I, too, have sinned. And, when I begged forgiveness under the guidance of the cardinal, God reached from the sky and touched me, giving me an angelic song to sing. It is from Psalms one fifty one."
Christine knew her bible well enough to know that was one more Psalm than any version she had read had.
Father Jay continued as if his gift from God was commonplace amongst clergy. Christine imagined that a man of the cloth, and one of his timber, might receive small gifts from God to help guide the flock. He recited a strange passage.
"I," Christine stammered. "I don't understand, Father, what does it mean?"
Father Jay laughed gently. "I did not question a gift from God. I accepted it. We must accept it. Its meaning will be unfathomable until God sheds his light on us."
Christine recited Psalm one fifty one with Father Jay over the phone. She opened her eyes, not aware she had kept them closed throughout the recital, and gazed at the LCD display of Father Jay's phone number.
"Father Jay, I know this is a lot to ask of you, but given the circumstances, could you postpone your dinner engagement with the Thompson's? I've been having a hard time with that Craig of Tabitha's. If we’re all together, maybe you could set him on a proper spiritual path." She inhaled and waited.
Father Jay hummed. "Are you sure there is no derision towards the Thompsons, Christine? I promised their son a dinner. But, I cannot water the thorns for sake of the rose, either."
"Of course not, Father.”
"I won't need to cook, will I? I'm not going to come prepared for it."
"That is fine, Father. I appreciate this. Jesus be with you." Christine waited for Fa
ther Jay to pass on a blessing and hung up.
With sinful thoughts on her brain, she called Ruby Tyler, her co-conspirator in the Divine Comment. A local bookstore prominently displayed the children’s book, Where’s Waldo, which included a topless female sunbather. Sinful! It needed to be banned! It wasn't until four thirty that she began cooking dinner and setting the table.
At five o'clock, Father Jay rang the doorbell. When she opened the door, the phone rang. Christine quickly invited Father Jay in and ran back to the phone. She hit the speaker button.
"Here I am! I stand at the door and knock." The line clicked.
"Revelations," Father Jay said.
"Three, twenty. Yes, I know."
"Rather strange call. I imagine one of the high school students doesn’t agree with your work in the Divine Comment."
Of course! She had not considered the culprit to be a teenaged hoodlum. They probably knew Tabitha and had conspired with her to concoct this demented joke. "Thank you for changing your plans. Would you like something to drink? Tabitha and Craig should be along anytime."
Father Jay walked into the front room, touching various things: The picture of Jeromy on the table near the couch, the statue of Mary on the fireplace mantle, and the top of the phone. "Do you have caller ID? "
"Yes.” Christine walked back to the phone. "It's from the church."
Father Jay frowned. "No one was there when I left, and the office is locked." He smiled and embraced Christine. "It’s probably nothing. May I have a glass of water? "
While Christine poured a glass of wine for herself and water for