Page 62 of Vicious Souls

She must have seen me through the window and decided to follow me. For whatever reason, I can’t understand.

“Keep your eyes on her. I don’t want her left alone.”

“Copy, sir.”

I continue walking on, my feet moving in spite of my misgivings. Kingsley on the street in foreign territory is not something I relish. When I reach my destination, I’m sure I see her come around the corner then duck quickly when I turn in her direction.

I look up at the old fieldstone building, its spire looming higher than nearby homes. A text comes in on my phone; one of the security detail following me puts Kingsley at the corner where I’d seen her. So I’m right, she’s following me.

I open the gate and walk up the old rickety stairs, my gaze falling to overgrown gardens on either side of the building. The property looks like it could use some maintenance.

Father Talbot comes to the door on the first ring, pulling me to him in an embrace before he closes the door behind us. I follow him into the church, noticing the way he shuffles his feet as he walks. He is getting old, and I imagine at his age he should now retire, but knowing Father Talbot, who has lived and breathed the Church his entire life, there will be no retirement.

“My son, what brings you here today?” Father Talbot asks, taking a seat beside me in one of the pews.

It is a ritual for me to visit him on two planned visits a year. Me turning up unexpectedly is out of the norm, which tells him there is something on my mind. I sigh distractedly. He has always been good at reading me. And he has been the voice of reason when I’d turned up at the Church to undertake the required service toward priesthood. He had seen in me a hunger for the world that dictated I was not meant for the church, yet still he had taken me in and fulfilled his obligations, until I was almost over the finish line and was forced to leave.

It could be said that I was never meant for the church. It could also be said that I had decided to become a priest for all the wrong reasons.

“Why are your gardens overgrown?” I ask him, avoiding his question. The gardens had at one point been a beautiful attraction for everyone to enjoy, the blooms and shrubs enjoying front road exposure then leading the way to the graveyard at the back of the property. A graveyard that dated back to the 1860’s and held so much history.

“After Owen, I had a hard time finding anyone to replace him. It’s a different time, my boy. People don’t like to work anymore.”

I quirk an eyebrow. It’s hard to imagine that someone would not want to work in a garden all day. But timeshadchanged, so maybe we had to look at different ways of doing things.

“I’ll send someone to clean it up, then come in once or twice a week to maintain it,” I tell him. “My donation to the church,” I say, cutting him off when he starts to protest.

“You seem troubled, Dante.”

“Things were simpler when I was here,” I admit. “I knew what was expected of me. I followed the rules. There was a manual to the way things should be. Things have become complicated now."

Father Talbot chuckles at the comparison between the Bible and a manual, then looks at me wistfully.

“You were always meant for greater things, Dante.”

“What if greater isn’t exactly God’s way?”

“We must all do things at times that we wouldn’t ordinarily do. It’s a given. There must be sinners. And there must be saints.”

“So, by definition, I’m the sinner.”

He shakes his head and looks at me sadly. “The reason you came to the church was because you believed you had committed a sin. Committing a sin comes with repentance. If saints stopped sinning, there’d be no one left to save.”

“So I’m neither a sinner nor a saint.”

“I believe you’re a little of both, Dante. To some you are a sinner. To others, you may be a saint.”

“What if I’ve had thoughts… about a woman.”

My mind goes dark as I think of all the things I imagine doing with Kingsley. All the things I want to do to her to wreck her for anyone else to come after me. All the dark thoughts I have about her. I am stepping on very dangerous territory here.

“You no longer belong to the church, my son. It is natural for you to have thoughts about a woman.”

“What if I don’t want to have those thoughts?” I ask him.

“Well, why wouldn’t you? When you can.”

The priest has a pointed way of stating the obvious. Anyone in their right mind who was not bound by the cloth or regulation, would not hesitate to consummate with a woman. Why then was I floundering? Why was I fighting this thing between Kingsley and me with all my might? Why was I looking for reasons not to be with her?

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