SACRILEGIOUS: Confessions of a Roman Catholic Seminarian

Chapter III: My Way of Life

Cycling for the last two hours through the picturesque hills of Napa had been the perfect backdrop for Mark to try out his new toys. The Fuji bike had been on his wish list for a long time alongside his new cycling kit. Sabotage Cycling had always caught his eye while looking through his Instagram feed. The signature navy base color of the jersey and bib shorts with their emblematic neon blue, yellow, green and pink stripes where an eye stopper for anyone.

 Mark had not been able to ride outdoors much while he had been enlisted in the Marine Corps, his days at Camp Pendleton usually consisted of endless watches, drills, and field exercises. Or least they had been upon returning from Afghanistan; at base camp, there had always been a stationary bike as part of the fitness equipment. Mark had gotten used to riding on it, at first as a way to reduce his stress and ease his nerves over the horrors seen on the field, eventually he grew to like spinning his legs until they gave out like jelly under pools of sweat.

The hills of Napa where nothing like the monotony of a stationary bike, he had been back to civilian life for some time already. Yet transitioning completely had been difficult, the last two years he spent in San Diego working at Camp Pendleton had been of good use, he had attended community college and gained his A.A. degree. To Mark's surprise, his subsequent application to Stanford had been approved, his grades had been good, his recommendation letters just right, and his determination unwavering. These were his last days back home before he had to endure long hours of a full-time student in the most prestigious university west of the Mississippi.

When the sun reached its apex across the blue skies above hilly Napa, Mark's calves brought him back into charming downtown. Riding alongside Riverside Drive he made a left on Brown St. in order to make his way to the best taqueria in town, Rosita's. After passing Third Street the traffic cleared giving him one chance to hit the pedals hard. At the moment, Mark was reaching his speed swing, a short guy in a pale pink shirt, trying to get a better picture of the street stepped back out of the sidewalk right into his path. 

Mark swerved to towards the right, squeezing the breaks right on his fingertips. It wasn't enough to stop him, his left elbow slammed the tourist who let out a shriek of fear as he was rammed. Mark's face slammed against the pale pink shirt which smelled of hairspray and musky Hollister cologne. His bike caught between his legs and helped to bring both of them down, his cleats unlocked from the pedals just before slamming the hot afternoon asphalt.

"Robert! Are you ok?" broke in a voice from the sidewalk. Pedestrians stopped to watch the curious spectacle of a cyclist crashing against a distracted tourist.

Mark quickly rose, with only a minor scratch on his forearm, he picked up his blue polarized Oakley sunglasses from the street and turned around to give the man in the pale pink shirt a hand. He was short about five seven, husky, with neatly manicured hair, he had no scratches or cuts on him; however, his glasses had both lenses cracked.

"Are you ok man?" asked Mark as he returned the cracked glasses.

"Yeah I'm fine. I'm sorry about that I didn't see you coming."

"It's ok, it was only a fall. Sorry about your glasses." Mark saw how much this stranger was trying to not show his embarrassment. His eyes quickly examined him up and down, Mark then felt the embarrassment climb through his back. He was being checked out.

"Mark Rainwater? Is that you?" called out a voice. Mark turned towards the sidewalk and standing with a cup of coffee on his hand was Jake O'Brien. Mark had not seen Jake since their high school graduation seven years ago, he knew Jake had join seminary in order to become a priest and had been studying in some school in Oregon. The previous day he had received a text message from him, inviting him to a wine tasting at some castle deep within the valley. He had not gone, mainly because he wasn't sure he would fit in with his old group of friends anymore. After graduation, everyone had gone their own ways. The summer before Jake left for seminary Mark made many attempts to meet up one last time with Jake, and for one reason or another Jake had never the time, or never showed interest to meet up.