Janine demurely made her way to the confessional. She had been practicing for several months now to take smaller, more delicate steps when she walked to better represent herself. It was one of the many techniques she had learned from the therapist who visited every few weeks. Settling in, she could see Bishop Ramey's profile obscured on the other side of the screen.
"Forgive me, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last confession."
Janine crossed herself, bowing her head. Bishop Ramey grunted and responded in his gravelly voice.
"Unburden yourself, my dear."
"I have been having unkind thoughts about someone on the outside. She's a cop who thinks she's better than everybody else. I feel she has wronged me. I wish for things to happen to her; I think of bad things happening to her."
The Bishop shifted uncomfortably.
"God forgives you. Say five Hail Marys as you…"
"Wait." Janine interrupted, her voice tinged with a hard edge of irritation. "I'm not finished."
"Go on then."
"Why should I not bring harm to this woman?"
The Bishop reddened with anger and surprise, and he took a moment to answer.
"Well, for one thing, you're incarcerated. She's beyond your reach."
"That doesn't answer my question. Whether or not she's beyond my influence is not relevant to the question. The question is, why shouldn't I hurt her? She's hurt me, and shouldn't I be able to strike back? An eye for an eye- isn't that what the Bible says?"
"I didn't come here to argue the ethos of the Bible with you. If you don't have anything more to confess, then I have appointments to keep elsewhere."
The mad giggling that emanated from the other side of the confessional seared the Bishop's spine, and the hair on his arms stood out. Gradually, Janine's hysterics died down.
"Did you get to talk to Elliot?" she asked.
"Yes. He's not going to help us. I told you he wouldn't."
"What did he look like- what did he say? Did he ask about me?"
"What kind of questions are those? When are you going to get it through your sick head that your pathetic obsession is one-sided?"
Janine hummed at the Bishop's admonition.
"You're just saying that because you don't know him. Not like I do. I know every corner of him. He was mine once, you know." Janine spoke in a dreamy tone as she swayed slightly from side to side, remembering.
The Bishop growled with disgust and moved to get up and out of the confessional.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Janine asked.
"I'm not going to continue to listen to this."
"Yes, you will. Don't you dare leave this box until I tell you can leave. Or maybe I should go ahead and tell the authorities about what you did."
Slowly, reluctantly, the Bishop lowered his large frame back down on the seat.
"I don't suppose you've ever met that bitch cop, Olivia? She was the one who threatened me, thinks she's better than every one else. You see, I know people on the outside who would love to do stuff for me and for my money, but if I had them attack her for me, I wouldn't get any personal satisfaction from that. Then again, even if I tore her apart myself, it's not nearly as gratifying as doing it to a man. Men are so much more fun to play with. Did you ever molest a boy, Bishop, or was it always little girls?"
Now Bishop Ramey was shaking, and he had to struggle to keep his voice steady.
"I never touched children. That's a filthy, slanderous lie. The girl, Angie, she was the only one I ever… I was in love with her. I never meant to hurt her, I just wanted to be near her and touch her and… She was fifteen. Fifteen is a young woman, not a child. It was never a child I…" He allowed his voice to trail off, hoping that Janine wouldn't press him for further confession.
"Give me a break. Maybe your superiors at the church buy that story, but nobody's buying it here. You molested that one girl and no others the whole time you were a parish priest? I'm new to this religion, so I'm not sure, but I would think that lying in a confessional is probably a sin, huh?"
Janine waited for him to answer, but when no answer was forthcoming, she continued in her reflective, wistful tone.
"I tortured a few girls, you know, when I was first experimenting. Not little girls, like you, but young women, actually. They'd sob and plead and that was all well and good, but it somehow felt a little too easy. Guys are different. They're raised to keep everything inside. They're not allowed to cry. They're supposed to stay strong, so they'll act all tough as long as they can. Inside, they're humiliated and hurt, but you have to work on them a while to get them to show it. It's like watching streaks of a sunrise begin to burst through lace curtains. Then when they do finally break, it's such a transcendent experience. It's indescribable, really. I remember the first young man I took back to my basement. He had played Rugby the first year he was in college, and…"
"Stop!" The Bishop's voice now quaked uncontrollably. "For the last time, this is a confessional, not a stage for your disgusting bragging."
"What's the difference?" she asked.
"I will not just sit here and allow you to make a mockery of the confessional. It is sacred, and furthermore…"
Janine cut him off.
"Lucky for you, I have things to do, so you can go now. But the next time we talk, you had better have some good news about my transfer to the crazy-people's hospital, or some of those heartwarming pictures you took of yourself and poor little Angie might start finding their way to the media."
Bishop Ramey didn't answer, but he knew he would have to work fast to get Janine moved out of prison. Whatever he had to do, the Bishop was not going to allow this maniac to ruin his life. The hearing for her pardon would be successful; it had to be.