Incarnated

7 | Behind Closed Doors

A/N: Events in this chapter are purely the work of the author's imagination (I think this one need a bit of a disclaimer unless I want trouble haha)

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Fr. Cornelio Andres sat quietly in the waiting room of the cardinal's office at the old-stone building owned by the Philippine Catholic Church in the heart of Manila. His hands were wrung together tightly, his right foot tapping silently on the carpet in a nervous rhythm. 

The comfortable material of the plush couch did nothing to appease his nerves that had been on edge from the moment he'd gotten on the plane in Cebu. The way the Salvatore case concluded had been undesirable at the least and had forced him to do things that went against the teachings of the Church upon which he'd made his vows.

He thought of how he had blatantly lied to the police and felt his stomach turn. He didn't want to do it - hated knowing he had consciously done it - but the situation had called for such, he didn't exactly have any other option.

Much like how the existence of their so-called "response team" was a secret, their work had always been done with discretion. Their involvement in the investigation of three deaths was sure to be the worst kind of publicity, and both the Church and the State would want their heads in shiny, silver platters if he'd ever let the matter blow out of proportion.

Such was the way the real world worked, he told himself for the umpteenth time, as if the fact could completely justify what he'd done. He had chosen the lesser of two evils after all. For if the truth came out on how deeply rooted in the government the religious sector of Philippine society was, chaos was sure to ensue. Filipinos hated to be deceived and they wouldn't stand for a governing body much like the one during the Spanish colonization.

People learn from the past and they learn hard.

And then what of the other budding religions?

Fr. Andres had never hated being part of such a strong-willed society. Everybody simply had an opinion on practically everything and at least one out of five people would have the guts to actually act on them. It was hard. There was no pleasing these kinds of people in general.

Just imagining the possible problems that exposure would result to made him feel a bit better. Indeed his choice had been the right one, he thought. Surely it was.

The padre sighed. It was usually rather easy to keep things quiet; the families had always been very much willing to cover up the real story. And it wasn't like the cases were news-worthy anyway, on the count that nobody else had been allowed to watch the exorcisms other than Adelaide and himself. What all the others knew about the whole thing was that their loved one had been saved. They had always been happy to accept their ignorance.

"The Cardinal is ready for you, Father," said the stiff-looking old woman in the blue sweater manning the reception after putting down the receiver of the phone sitting atop her desk.

Fr. Andres stood from his comfortable seat and followed her towards the double doors that led to the cardinal's main office. She didn't smile as she pounded lightly on the heavy wooden surface, which didn't bother the padre so much on the count that he himself was in no mood for smiling. It was only at the echo of an acknowledgement coming from the other side that the woman slowly turned the brass knob and pushed the door open.

"Cardinal?" she said, still standing in the doorway, blocking the priest's entrance. "I've brought Fr. Andres as you requested."

"Ah yes. Let him in." The man seated at the large, leather office chair looked up from the document in his hands. "Thank you, Gilda."