Chapter Fourteen #2
“Those two men deserved to die!” he snarled. Spittle flew through the slot and landed on Rule’s cheek. “Freya is nearly thirty and if she ever told me grown men tried to seduce her when she was a child, I’d want them dead, too!”
Rule slid his forearm over his spitty cheek, the words turning over in his head. “Is Freya your daughter?”
The priest snapped his mouth shut and slammed the slot closed. A moment later, he reopened it and drew in a deep breath. “She’s like a daughter to me.”
He’s good, Rule.
An unclean woman must’ve caught him in a moment of weakness.
“Your mother’s near death devastated you. Imagine what her daughter’s death would do to her? ”
“She has another one.”
“Who made you judge and jury?”
“The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”
“The voices.”
“They are one and the same.”
“You cannot take your vows with blood on your hands.”
“I already have blood on my hands.”
“You’ve killed someone?”
“Not yet,” Rule said impatiently. “I’ve been present in the meatshack, though. Dad’s smart. He’ll never get caught so my secret is safe.”
“Murderous priests are quite cliché. I expected more originality from you.”
Rule smiled. “You’re funny.”
“Ha, ha, ha. I’m hilarious,” he said with biting sarcasm. “Except I didn’t hear anything funny. I am quite serious. How can you overlook your father’s many sins but crucify your mother and sister?”
“Crucify? Them? That’s blasphemous.”
“Then you’re welcomed to leave my confessional and never return.”
“No! I didn’t mean—”
“You meant exactly that. Do not dissemble in the house of the Lord.”
Rule quieted. He enjoyed the silence around him.
Whether he was in the sanctuary, the rectory, the confession box, or anywhere on church grounds, the voices didn’t plague him as much.
He still had his thoughts, his outrage, and his need to punish, but they refrained from encouraging him for the most part.
A beeping noise interrupted Rule.
“Dinner is ready,” Father Wilkins announced.
“I am sorry for all my sins,” Rule responded, understanding the priest had to wrap up.
“You have your whole life ahead of you. Remember the good times you had with your mother and your sister. Focus on that. Have a little mercy. Offer kindness. They need it and they deserve it. Your mother has made a very loving home for you where you want for nothing.”
“Because of Dad.”
“You discredit her importance to the family. Your father is who he is because of her.”
“You cannot disregard my father’s greatness.”
“Perhaps, you should allow Outlaw to bring you some place. Before something terrible happens.”
“I’m not crazy, Father Wilkins!”
“You’re putting words in my mouth. I have no compunction calling a spade a spade. If I thought you were insane, I’d tell you.”
Deflating, Rule slid back in his seat and leaned against the chair.
“Perhaps, medication will help quiet the voices.”
Rule snapped his brows together. “Only crazy people take medicine.”
“I once spoke of you in glowing terms. Your discernment has been the subject of more than one conversation. Your assessment period is more than fear of celibacy or a lack of holiness. It is filled with murderous intent and a refusal to accept needed help.”
“ You’re turning your back on me, too?”
That would leave him with no one. Until Mom stopped tempting Dad, he wouldn’t remember Rule’s existence. Instead, he’d constantly worry about her . Rebel was too filthy to be in Rule’s exalted presence. Diesel had his own problems, and loyalty to those two blondes blinded CJ.
“I am not. I am asking that you reconsider resisting your father’s intentions. Whatever they may be.”
“I’m not celibate,” Rule announced.
“Shocking.”
“What does that mean? ”
“Nothing. God the father of mercies through the death and resurrection of his Son as reconciled the world to himself and He sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
Normally, the Prayer of Absolution comforted Rule. Today, it left him disheartened. Still, he repeated the Act of Contrition by rote.
“ God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you, and I detest all my sins because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell; but most of all because they offend you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace to confess my sins, do penance, and to amend my life. Amen. ”
The priest slammed the slot closed. A chair scraped across the wood and a door creaked open. Sighing, Rule stood and walked out of the box.
Father Wilkins glared at him, fisting his hands on his hips. “You must learn humility, boy.”
Rule flushed. “If you’d given me the chance to express my sorrow for my sins before your absolution—”
“What good will it do? If you were sorry, we could’ve stuck to the proper order of confession. But you aren’t.”
“Yet you absolved me,” he said.
“Of the sin of wanting to kill your sister,” he whispered harshly.
Rule glowered at the priest.
The rotund little man drew himself up. “The seal of confession is undamaged. I suggest you rethink your intentions. Neither I nor God above will save you from your father’s wrath. Remember that before you, Curly, Larry, and Moe cavort in hell. ”
The priest stormed away, leaving Rule to stare after him in angry silence as his mother’s text came through.
She was outside.