The Secret

Chapter Ten

                      © 2014 by tore56789 (GOS) All rights reserved.

The man in the bed returned the sentiment on his face.   Then after a cough, said simply, “Father, I haven’t always been a good man.  Done real bad things?  Seen worse in Nam?  Saw the devil there for sure.  Kids raping kids.  Killings like it was all just some big crazy game paid for by Uncle Sam.  Kids thinking they were gods.  It made me realise man is evil.  Not just ones we know of like Hitler. But all men are evil..."

"...I saw nice kids arrive there and turn into these really sick monsters. Monsters that could go up to a mother holding a small child in her arms in some village, as high as a kite, and shoot them both –while  insisting afterwards to his superiors he suspected she was Vietcong.  Generals didn’t give squat.  Once you mentioned Vietcong.” He looked away, a little angry, lost, “Lots should have been brought up on war crimes –that just got sheer away.  Because the boys back home found they could cover up the whole thing a lot better there, as we were the only ones on the playing field here.  And who was going to believe those yellow commie bastards anyhow.” 

As if the knocking window drew his attention, he turned his head in that direction, as cold sleet like rain could be seen throwing itself hard against the glass.  And facing that way, he spoke, his words low, distant. “God should be ashamed of me.  You know that Father? Toss me to hell. Because when I saw a bad kid like that die, I was truly glad, as I thought, no mother should have to live to see her son turn into a cold hard monster like that.”      

The priest saw tears on his face then.  He knew the man was crying out for absolution, “I never knew why I was made the minder of it, until you came into our home.  But I knew after our long chats, O’Malley would have been pleased with my decision.”

He nodded, spoke words to give comfort.  And when the man asked him afterwards to perform –what he thought he had been asked there to do, he dropped the device on the bed, instantly causing the holographic window to disappear.  But then just as quickly picked it up, and placed it into the inside pocket of his dark coat.

After he had given him Last Rites, he saw the bedridden man look towards the wall to the back of him, his face aglow with happiness.  The priest knew this to be the moment of Visitation.  When he had trained for his Office, those who had guided him, suggested each novice leave this open to their own interpretation, and beliefs.The man who had been there before them refused to say what his were, as his only purpose at the time in that room was to provide instruction –even if he looked like Christ himself, with his rough dark curly hair, a long beard tarnishing to grey, outstretched arms to emphasise a point –like the true image of the crucifixion –in a dark suit of Office, with a white collar around his neck.

“She’s here father.  She’s so beautiful.  She has just told me she is a Messenger from beyond the light.  Send here in God’s grace.  She wants me to go with her?”  The man ended looking to his side, where the invisible presence must have stood. 

He nodded back, and smiled, before saying, “Sean, you don’t have much time now.  Do you want to speak with your family?”  His feelings regarding divine visitations then, were undecided. After all, how can you fully believe in something that you can’t perceive with your own senses.  Even if you see the joy on the faces of the dying –when the intervention takes place?

The man nodded, and with that he got up to summons them.  Ten or so minutes later, the man’s wife arrived out to where he was seated at the table in the common room, sipping from a glass of wine, to part the news, that her husband had passed on peacefully.  To which he had nodded, and smiled and said, “The last thing he asked of me was to find a man to care for both you and your daughters.  I can reassure you there are lots of good, suitable men in this part of Kerry, who would truly adore too meet you.  Good men, who could make your life a lot easier, and a good deal happier.”  Seeing the look on the woman’s face, he stopped, and smiled lightly, before his words followed, “I’m only saying this Mary-Ann, as Sean asked it strongly of me.”

To which the now widow replied, “Reckon it wouldn’t be proper Father.  Sean was a sick man.  But I loved him with all my heart.  A man would want to be something real special to replace all that.” 

Seeing tears he nodded, understandably, and then finally said, “If you change your mind, Mary-Ann, I’m nearly always found at the church.  And if not there, feel free to call to my home.”

“Thank you Father,” she said wiping tears.  And to the priest, this was the first time he had seen this strong woman cry, leaving down her defences, to show she too was human, and had a breaking point.  The only thing that had changed was the high winds, rain.  As if some force outside had decided to relent too, now that the man had gone onto the Care of God?