Robert Chase's cell phone rang. It was his mentor Father Matthew Connelly. On Chase's afternoon off when he was supposed to be studying, it had to be an emergency. "Hello?" He answered, whispering, gathering his books and laptop and packing them into his bag so he could leave the library.
"Robert, I need you. There's been a parishioner to see me about a funeral. I think it could be a learning experience for you, if you're not too busy studying."
"Absolutely, anything you need," Chase answered, thinking about his term paper on the philosophy of world religions and sighing.
"Then I'll see you soon."
"Bye Father." Chase got into his car and quickly crossed himself before beginning to pray.
Hi God. I know we just had a chat this morning, but I could use your help. I don't know exactly what Father Connelly is expecting so I'm trusting you to guide me. I know it's all part of my training and I'll be a better servant for you afterwards but I don't even know what I'm walking in to. I know you're on my team so I can be on Yours. Amen.
Eventually he was going to have to learn how to pray so he didn't sound like an idiot. With his prayer sent up to the almighty, Chase took a deep breath and started driving to the church. St. Michael's Cathedral was ornate and beautiful. All wood and stained glass windows, an impressively humbling holy water fountain, although the pipe organ made him feel even more humbled each weekend and Wednesday during mass. The organist had a gift from God and Chase could almost feel a prayer in the notes of the music.
In the church office, a young woman in a wheelchair sat at the table, her head bowed, while a woman was yelling. Father Connelly unsuccessfully tried to calm her down. As Chase approached, he heard a raised voice.
"This is all your fault! If you hadn't been so insistent on marrying my son, he never would have joined the Marine Corps and he wouldn't be dead now!"
"Mrs. Stone, please calm down. None of this is Rebecca's fault." Father Connelly, so calm, so stable. Chase felt like running, but he turned and entered the room anyway.
"Hello. Sorry I'm late. I'm Robert Chase, I'm a seminary student. Father Connelly called me in to come and help."
"I know who you are," Caroline Stone snapped, Chase now recognized the woman from Sunday morning mass. He'd met her son Daniel often at the library. He was always checking out books but Chase hadn't seen him recently. It must have been due to the deployment.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Stone. Daniel was a good man. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No. The funeral arrangements have been made, but that bitch wants my son's casket flag. I want it. I raised him. He was my son and he died because of her."
"Honey, please, stop blaming Rebecca." Mr. Stone, Peter, if Chase recalled correctly, interjected. He led his wife back to her chair.
Chase looked at the woman in the wheelchair, her lips were moving silently and he wondered why the Stones, normally good people, were so hostile towards her.
"Rebecca, is there anything I can do for you?" Chase asked, figuring the Stone's grief about Rebecca would work itself out as soon as the funeral arrangements were finished.
"May I have a glass of water, please, Father?"
"I'm not a priest yet, Rebecca, just a seminarian. But yes I can get you a glass of water."
"Thank you."
Chase returned with the water, tuning out the Stones and focusing on Rebecca. She took the glass, her hands shaking so badly she was going to spill.
"Here, let me help," Chase knelt in front of her chair and curled his fingers around hers and helped her take small sips of water. Now that he was focused on her, she looked terrible. There were dark circles under her green bloodshot eyes like she'd barely slept. Her long blond hair was sloppily pulled back into a ponytail. Dressed all in black and curled in on herself, she looked more like a child playing dress up than an adult. Her lips were cracked and looked like they had been bleeding.
God, is this who I'm supposed to be helping? Because I don't know what to do or say other than to help her drink this water and a glass of water isn't going to bring Daniel back.
"It is my fault you know," Rebecca said, in a whisper so soft Chase barely heard her.
"How is it your fault, Rebecca?" Chase asked, trying to remain calm and hear her rationale.
"If I didn't have Cerebral Palsy, Daniel wouldn't have joined the Marines. He enlisted to get us money. I'm on experimental treatments but my insurance won't cover them. Daniel's covered a bit and his check got us through the rest. I'm slowly improving but if it hadn't have been for me, Daniel would have become a teacher. We needed the money now though. He married me, against his parent's wishes. We fell in love, in spite of everything, and he was willing to put his dreams on hold to help me. And now he's dead."
"Rebecca, none of that is your fault. Daniel loved you enough to want to help you. You were the one he was getting books for, weren't you?"
She nodded and Chase saw the ghost of a smile. "I'm in grad school and a paralegal. I love to read but the library isn't very accessible. So Daniel would go for me. Er, well, I was in grad school. I took some time off once the news about Daniel came." She looked ashamed now. Not good. Fix this, Chase.
"Time off is good. You need to heal."
"She needs to stand on her own two feet," Caroline practically snarled, "Look, she's got you ensnared too, just like with my son."
Peter again brought his wife back to her chair. "I think we're done here, Father Connelly."
"Yes, I suppose we are. Would any of you like to pray with me?"
The Stones walked out of the office without answering.
"I have contacts in the Marines, Rebecca. I can get you a casket flag," Father Connelly told her.
"Thank you Father."
"You're welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to start organizing the funeral for Daniel. I'm sure Robert will help you outside." Father Connelly turned and walked away.
"Bless me Father for I have sinned. It's been about an hour since my last confession," Rebecca whispered, bowing her head again.
"Rebecca, I'm not a priest. I can't forgive your sins, only God can. But I can pray with you. Would you like that?" Chase became very aware of the fact that his fingers were still wrapped around hers. He placed the empty water glass on the table, releasing her hand.
"Do you know the prayer of St. Francis?" she asked Chase.
"Yeah, I do."
"I'd like that one."
"Okay." Chase crossed himself, watching as Rebecca slowly mirrored his movements. "Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is sadness, joy. O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love. For it is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen." She recited the prayer as he did and breathed deeply afterwards.
She unlocked the brakes on her chair and gave Chase a small smile. "Thank you."
"Of course. Here. Let me get the doors for you." He stood up and opened the office door and then the door to the outside of St. Michaels.
She pushed herself down the ramp and locked her wheels again at the bus stop. Chase decided to follow her, screw the brick wall that Father Connelly told him to build between himself and his congregation. "The bus, huh?"
"I don't have a car. It saves on gas. And thanks to Social Security, I get a free bus pass."
"Let me take you home. Please?"
Rebecca looked so fragile and lost for a few seconds that Chase thought she might cry. "All right." She rolled back towards the parking lot.
Chase unlocked and opened the door to his car for her, watching, transfixed, as she transferred herself from her chair to the car. She gave him directions on how to fold her chair and he managed to wrestle it into his back seat.
After giving him directions to the local base and giving the guards her ID to let them on base, he found the tiny house that belonged to her and pulled up outside of it. There was more wrestling with the chair and then Rebecca transferred herself again from car to chair.
She pushed herself up the ramp and unlocked the door, inviting Chase inside. He declined, telling her about his paper. She looked interested and asked to read it when it was done. He promised that she could and then he left her alone, closing the door. The click it made sounded so final that Chase felt rattled.
Hey God, thanks for the test today. I hope I passed, or at least made her feel better. Help Daniel's soul find peace. And find peace for Rebecca too. She's lost and needs you. Just about as badly as I do.
Chase prayed as he drove off the base and back to his apartment, opening his laptop and finishing his paper without interruption. He got pizza for dinner, tipped the pizza guy, and before he fell into bed, again prayed for Rebecca and Daniel.