It was very early morning on Thanksgiving. Father Gerard got up to say the early morning mass in the hospital chapel. Mass was scheduled for six, but Father Gerard always got down to the chapel ten minutes before, stopping on the way to get a cup of coffee from the hospital cafeteria. Probably alone among its customers, Father Gerard loved the coffee they brewed. It was strong, with a slight metallic taste from the pot, and for some reason it reminded him of his youth.
Father Gerard was on his way from the rectory around twenty to six. It was cold, below freezing, and he had a long black coat on over his cassock. Just as he got to the door of the hospital, Blind Tommy came out of the building.
Usually, Blind Tommy stared at the ground and barely noticed anyone until they were right in his face; he’d even pass by Father Gerard without saying hello, even though the priest was probably the closest thing to a friend he had. But today, Blind Tommy looked into Father Gerard’s face and immediately grabbed his arms.
“I need you to hear my confession,” said Blind Tommy.
“Your confession? It’s a bit early for that, Tommy.”
“Please father.”
“Well all right. Come along to the chapel.”
“Not in the chapel.”
There were no confessionals in the chapel, so there was no question of real privacy there. Still, the way Blind Tommy said it alarmed Father Gerard.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“I need to give my confession.”
“In the rectory then,” said Father Gerard. “Come along.”
But Blind Tommy had already started. “Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession.”
“Two days, Tommy,” said Father Gerard. “Only two days.”
Blind Tommy didn’t listen. Words were tumbling out of his mouth. Sins – lying, coveting a fellow workman’s watch – and murder.
“Murder?” said Father Gerard.
“I killed her, Father. I didn’t mean to. It was like the devil took hold of me.”(more to come)
No comments:
Post a Comment