Pressure

PART I

STANISŁAW felt strange all day. There were thick beads of sweat on his forehead, his head was buzzing, and his vision was starting to blur. One of the older women sitting in the front pews stared at him with a worried look. To only make it through this mass, he thought.

- The Lord be with you - he called out.

- And with your spirit - answered a few of his faithful followers.

- Go in the peace of Christ.

- Amen.

He heard a bell ringing, but it seemed somehow distant. He looked at the altar boy who was holding the bell in his hand and felt his temperature rise. For a moment he imagined the naked body of the boy he had recently touched and kissed. Just like his father, he thought. The bishop had made an incredible joke by sending Stanisław back to this town. He smiled to himself. However, soon he felt another and stronger wave of nausea and almost ran down the hall to the sacristy. He could feel the astonished gaze of his followers on his back. He stood leaning against the wardrobe with the heavy chasubles, breathing heavily ...

- Help me undress and take me to the rectory - he ordered the minister.

The scared boy, lowering his eyes, helped him take off the chasuble and put it back in the wardrobe. After a while, they walked across the dark church yard towards the presbytery building. Stanisław felt the slight evening chill and brought relief to his burning head.

Maybe keep him for an hour or two and relax? Father Stanisław looked down at the boy. He smiled to himself and leaned further on his shoulder. He licked his chapped lips in a lewd manner. He felt the child cringe and begin to tremble. When they reached the presbytery in the door they met an excited housekeeper.

- I'm coming, Father - she said and looked frightened at the boy.

- Dinner is on the kitchen table, I will come tomorrow morning as usual.

- With God - without waiting for an answer, she walked away into the darkness in a quickened pace.

- God bless - the priest grunted in a voice not his own.

He felt another rush of dizziness and numbness of his body. It irritated him because he had such plans for the evening. He looked once more at the boy who was with him walking into the rectory and thought not today. He felt too unwell.

- Go now - he growled at him as if blaming him for his malaise.

- God bless - the boy said softly, and ran towards his house.

The priest stumbled into the kitchen and sank heavily into his chair. His mouth feeling dry he reached with a trembling hand for the thermos of tea left by the housekeeper.

I could have kept him, we would have eaten it together and then ...

At that moment, the world spun, and a stabbing feeling striked his chest. He felt his whole body shudder and there was a sudden shortness of breath. He desperately tried to draw for air. For a moment he saw the faces of the boys he had met in his life. They stared at him blankly. He also saw the bishop's laughing face, his belly quivering with laughter, and he heard the words; You're going back to the old garbage, Staś. Some parishioners will be surprised, but remember: they have nothing to say. They're a herd of sheep. We are the shepherds, we make the call.

He felt a mighty force yank his body backwards, interrupting the flashing visions in his head. The back of the chair dangerously creaked... For a moment he stared at the ceiling wide-eyed. He felt as if someone was standing behind him, but was too afraid to turn around. And then some invisible force pushed him violently forward. His forehead struck the edge of the solid oak kitchen table with mighty force. In his last flicker of consciousness, he heard bones cracking.