Music Lover's Alert: "Ready 4 Love" by Cascada, "Not about us" by Genesis, and "Rebel in Me" by Jimmy Cliff in that order.
Chapter 12 Confession
Joan Saunders took the keys to a small economy car that all the residents at Rakitan Industries shared and started driving. It was not often that she used the car, but she really needed some time to think and get away from all the tension at home. Usually, she just took her bicycle out for a long ride to a small church out in the country, but this time was different. She knew the priest at the small church too well to confess all her sins to him. She needed to be completely anonymous this time; she needed to let herself disappear and see the big picture for a change.
As she drove, her mind drifted back to Timothy Saunders and the days they had spend together. She wondered where he was right now. She wondered where she would be if she had made different choices. What if she had never even gotten pregnant in the first place? Was the relationship really doomed from the start as Sean had tried to tell her, or would it have held together if they hadn't experienced such trauma? Her throat constricted and her stomach tied itself in knots, but she kept her eyes clear and on the road. It was the only thing she could do to keep herself sane.
Joan drove for a good hour until she reached a sign that said, "Domino City Limit." She looked up to see several skyscrapers ahead of her and let them overwhelm her. I guess this is a good place to start.
Joan slowed the vehicle and pulled up beside a man walking down the sidewalk. She rolled down her window and called, "Excuse me, but do you happen to know where I can find a Catholic church around here?"
"Yeah," the man replied, "It's just up the street from Industrial Illusions."
"Where's that?"
"Are you kidding? It's only the second tallest building in the city." The man pointed to a rectangular gray tower that had a triangular section on top that flared outward.
"Thanks," Joan said before pulling back onto the road and heading towards the skyscraper.
Just as the man had said, the church was very close to Industrial Illusions. Joan parked the car and walked up to it. Luckily, there was a sign in front that read, "Walk-in confessions today."
Our Lady of Faith, Joan thought as she entered, where have I heard that before? The church was completely empty and quiet, but the door to the confessional was open. Joan took a seat in the dark little closet and closed the door behind her. She said the sign of the cross aloud nervously and waited for a response.
"What is it, child?" A young, soothing voice answered.
"Father, I have sinned. It has been over a year since my last confession, and so much has happened that I don't know where to begin."
Here we go again. I bet she's going to tell me a bunch of stupid little things to avoid telling me about the big ones, the priest thought. "Just tell me what is troubling you the most," he said.
"Well, it's kind-of complicated. So, I guess I'll start at the beginning. The thing is that I had sex outside of the marriage with this one guy and got pregnant."
This is more juicy than I expected, the priest thought, "So, you need some counseling on whether or not to marry him?" he asked.
"Oh no. That was years ago and I already confessed for that one. The thing is that I also made a vow never to have sex again and I promised to protect my friends from suffering the same fate I experienced."
She had his full attention now. "Which was?"
"Massive heartbreak and a stillborn child. Anyway, my friends and I can't afford to have emotional trauma like that in our lives. We're trying to save the world."
I've never heard that one before. Then again, I've only been doing this for a couple of months. "Save the world?" he repeated.
"Yeah. Um… we don't know if it is going to work yet, but the idea is to start out by educating people about things like child labor and hopefully get them to stop supporting the corporations that practice it. It's kind-of a covert thing, but that's really the only way we can do it without getting ourselves killed."
"That sounds like a noble cause. So, why are you here again?"
"Well… It's my people really. I don't know what else to call them, but the thing is that I'm responsible for them and they're… sinning."
There was a long pause before the priest said, "It's good to protect the innocent, but you can't be held responsible for the behavior of others. What are they doing anyway?"
"Fornicating," Joan whispered, "I tried to stop them but they're doing it anyway. Father, please help me."
There was another lengthy silence on the priest's part. "What exactly do you want me to do?"
"Well, I need to know what to say to them to get them to stop. I tried setting a good example for them, but it's not working."
"Child, it's really not up to you to decide how they choose to express their feelings."
"But it is! I've been there. I know. If they keep on doing what they're doing, God is going to punish them like he punished me!" Joan insisted.
Poor girl. She's out of her mind. "How do you know that God was punishing you and not just pushing you in a different direction, giving you another chance at finding love?"
"I… I don't know. I loved him. I still do. I… I just know that he's the one, and even if he never comes back, he's still the one," Joan answered.
The priest rubbed his temples. He knew he could get in trouble for what he was about to say, but if this girl really was the government rebel she indicated that she was, she could probably understand the difference between the ideals of the faith and the institution of the church. Otherwise, why else would she be here questioning things? Why did she step out of line in the first place? "OK, whatever junk you heard about Jesus saving someone for you if you save yourself for marriage is just garbage invented by the church to control people. Listen child, sexuality is a gift from God that people use to express their feelings for each other. If your feelings are true, it's not fornication, just making love."
Joan was silent for a moment.
"Look, there's the letter of the law, the spirit of the law, and then there's just doing the right thing. The rules don't work in every situation, and sometimes the rules are just dead wrong."
"But I know that some of my people are having sex just to keep their other activities quiet. It's a total mess! They're breaking the rule I set for them, and they're not even doing it with people they love."
"The more you try to control the, the worse it becomes?"
"Pretty much."
"See my point? And what about you? Are you tempted to break your own rule?"
"I…" Joan hesitated. She thought of Trevor with his sweet smile and emerald green eyes. She thought of Sean, who had supported her through some of the toughest moments in her life. She had resisted giving into Sean's tempting lips only because others were watching. With Trevor, she barely resisted her urge to rip off his clothes and see what was under them. "… yeah," Joan admitted at last.
"Then be honest with yourself," the priest replied, "Don't hold back."
Joan leaned back on the hard little bench in the confessional and let the priest's words wash over her. It certainly wasn't what she was expecting to hear, but his voice sounded so soft and genuine that she almost wanted to melt. "What about you? When you love someone, do you make love to them?"
"You know I can't," the priest replied, "I, much like your people, am under the thumb of a more powerful entity that wants to do good, yet keeps such a firm grip on me that I can't do anything about it."
"The Pope?" Joan asked.
"Yes, the Pope."
Joan thought for a moment. "If you could make love to someone, would you?"
"That depends on-Hey! You're supposed to be the one under inspection here, not me!"
Joan chuckled. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me to go out and get laid, but you won't follow your own advice?"
The priest was silent for a moment, and then said, "It's too dangerous for me. I can't even flirt with a girl without drawing the attention of the Spanish Inquisition."
"Is that why you go for little boys instead?" Joan asked playfully.
"That's not funny, but it might be true for other priests. I wouldn't dream of molesting a child. I like women."
"Prove it," Joan taunted.
The priest hesitated. Was this a trap? Something in the girl's tone of voice told him that he could trust her. Besides, it wasn't every day he met someone who admitted what was really on her mind. "What is your name?" he asked.
"Joan," the girl replied, "And yours?"
"John. You're not from this parish, are you?"
"No, just visiting."
Father John breathed in her scent through the wooden screen between them that obscured her face. It reminded him of something very warm and welcoming like hot chocolate on a cold winter night. "Well Joan, do you seriously want me to prove what I am telling you?"
"Yes," Joan said without hesitation. The priest's words intrigued her, and since she trusted members of the clergy, she was more curious than she was scared.
Father John eyed the holes in the wooden screen. They just might be big enough. He fumbled with his keys until he found the one to his apartment, and then removed it from the keychain. His heart beat faster as he did so. He knew that he could get into so much trouble for what he was about to do, but at the same time he could not pass up this opportunity. "When you exit the church, turn right. As you walk, stay close to the building. When you reach the edge of it, turn right again and walk along a narrow pathway until you get to a plain, green door. When you get there, make sure that nobody is watching. Then, open the door with this." John pressed the key into one of the slots in the screen, but it got stuck. Panic flooded John's thoughts for a moment as he wondered what would happen if he could not get it all the way through. He tried to pull it back, but it would not budge. Taking a deep breath, John pushed the key as hard as he could. One of the wooden slats around the hole broke with a sickening crack, and the key went through. John let out his breath slowly and deliberately, saying, "Make yourself at home and wait for me inside. I'll try not to be too long."
Joan took the key and thanked him. "So… what about my sins?" she asked.
"You're absolved," Father John answered.
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. Did you want the full ritualized version?"
"That's all right. I'll see you in a few minutes then?"
"See you soon."
Joan shoved the key into her pocket as she timidly left the confessional. Another woman stood outside waiting for her turn to speak to the priest. Other than that, the church was empty.
Joan walked around the outside of the church as Father John had instructed her until she came to a green door. She looked around warily to make sure that nobody was watching, and then took the key out of her pocket. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the lock, but she managed to get the door open quickly.
Joan entered the apartment and closed the door behind her. Her heart pounded wildly as she thought about what she was about to do. Everything she thought she knew about sex had just come crumbling down around her and now she had to build a new mental construct to explain things. The other priests she had spoken to always danced around the issue and avoided it, but Father John faced it head-on.
Joan's pulse slowed as she looked around the apartment. It was neat, but small and simple. The kitchenette had a small electric stove with a teakettle sitting on it. Well, he did tell me to make myself at home, she thought. She filled the kettle with tap water and started heating it on the stove while she searched for a cup and some tea.
When she had made herself a cup of tea, Joan went into the main living area and sat down in a nice, plump chair upholstered with brown rayon. In front of her was a coffee table with a notebook and some Catholic magazines. The notebook intrigued Joan, but it looked private, so she picked up a magazine and flipped through it. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she had a feeling that she would not find it. Every article that even remotely addressed sex simply danced around the subject, never giving a reason for abstinence aside from a vague reference to morality. As she read further, Joan began to see the same words over and over again. The text became so repetitive that the letters started to swim before her eyes and Joan drifted off to sleep in Father John's chair.