The Shadow of the Simulacrum

Chapter 18: The renewal

Late December 1808 (18 years old)

Since my meeting with the local dignitaries, I had understood that it was crucial to demonstrate that the Church could not only serve the spiritual needs of the community but also play a central role in its economic and cultural development. The key would be to skillfully tie these interests together to strengthen my influence.

On this Saturday morning, I walked through the village under the pretext of ensuring the well-being of the inhabitants, but my true objective was to reconnect with the Morgan family. The pastoral visits, though necessary, were primarily a way to lay the groundwork for consolidating my future control. As I approached the Morgan house, the bitter memories of my childhood gave way to the certainty of my current position. I was now the Reverend, holder of a respected title, while Richard was nothing more than a simple carpenter. Power and authority were on my side, and he could only respect me.

I knew the Morgans couldn't tend to the crops this season, but they always had tasks to accomplish, even in winter. As I neared their home, the steady sound of an ax behind the barn caught my attention. I found Richard chopping wood. The irony of the situation struck me: he, a man of physical strength, and I, armed with my intellect and ambitions. I advanced toward him, holy book in hand, a symbol of my authority.

At the sight of me, he straightened up, a warm smile lighting up his face. At first, he assumed I had come to see his father, but I gently interrupted him, clarifying that my visit was for all my dear brothers and sisters, and that I came in peace, simply to check on him. No reproach crossed my lips, despite the bitter past between us.

Richard, visibly uneasy, couldn't help but bring up that past. With unexpected sincerity, he confessed:

"It's truly generous of you to come check on us, Reverend. But I must sincerely apologize for the way I treated you when we were children. I was jealous of you. You were the Reverend's son, the perfect son every parent wished they had. My own parents admired you and wanted me to follow your example."

I was surprised to discover that he envied me back then. He had always had what I desired, but there, in front of me, he revealed a jealousy I had never suspected. Yet, I remained impassive, hiding my surprise behind a friendly smile.

"Well, my dear friend, what's past is past. We are now adults, and as a man of faith, I believe in redemption and in the possibility of creating a better future. We've all made mistakes, but what matters is what we do to make up for them. I accept your apology."

Every word I uttered was carefully calculated, devoid of sincerity. He was still that naive kid in an adult's body, and it didn't take much to win his trust. He had given me what I sought: acknowledgment of my superiority. Through him, I saw the value that was finally being accorded to me, and I relished the idea that my revenge was subtly coming to fruition.

"Your efforts to ensure a good harvest next spring are commendable, Richard. Your father must be proud of you," I added with a touch of flattery, aiming to exploit this opening.

Richard, just as naive as I had imagined, responded with disarming sincerity:

"Your work as a reverend has greatly helped the villagers, especially during the tuberculosis outbreak. Many believe you're much better than your father, particularly for someone so young. You know, your support, especially through the community healing centers, has saved lives and given precious hope to our community. I think you'll make an excellent founder, Reverend. You seem made for the role."