CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER EIGHT

 Tom took a cab to Saint Michael the Archangel Church.  It was not because of any strong spiritual beliefs.  He was desperate.  It was worth a try. He promised Angela he would see Father Alphonsus.

Assuming the priest might have an office somewhere in the church he looked there first.  The church was in the style of a great medieval cathedral only on a much smaller scale, a miniature cathedral built of stone and stained glass.

Over the large wooden doors leading into the church was a statue of an angel.  The angel’s wings were spread out behind him for balance.  He was pushing a long sword into the chest of a horned demon lying on his back with his hands unsuccessfully trying to deflect the sword.

“Almost as good as Spiderman,” Tom mumbled to himself as he pulled open the door.

The light coming in with him sent shadows in every direction.  When the door closed behind him, the shadows vanished.  They were replaced by a dim light coming from several lights encased in tall hexagonal glass fixtures.  The lights were held up by chains strung down from the high ceiling.  In a moment, his eyes became accustomed to the dim lighting.  He could see the daylight pressing against the many stained-glass windows.  The light was held back by the thick glass.

Except for an old man sitting in the front pew the church was empty.

There was a statue of Saint Michael by the altar.  This time his sword was inches away from the chest of a serpent-like demon instead of the horned devil in the statue above the front doors.

When Tom saw beams of red and blue light landing beside the statue, he turned and went back outside.  It was too much like the lights that frightened him in a church when he was a young boy.

He looked for another way to see the priest.  Then he noticed a covered walkway towards the side of the church that led to a modern brick two story building.  Reaching the door, he read the note taped to its window.

“Confessions from three until five.”

It was a quarter to five.  Tom went back into the church.  This time the old man sitting in the front pew was gone.  Wanting to get it over with he decided to find Father Alphonsus in a confessional if he must.  He could not wait until five.

There were four confessional areas built into the walls on each side of the church.  They had closed wooden doors flanked by deep purple curtains where the penitent would enter.  By looking closely, he could see that only one confessional was dimly lit.  Above the door was Father Alphonsus’ name engraved on a small rectangular wooden board that slid into a metal holder.  Tom pushed past the curtain.  Inside there was a padded wooden plank for kneeling facing a dark double-screened window that concealed the view.

“Father Alphonsus, are you there?”

He believed he saw a wood panel slide open removing one of the screens. He could see an obscure shadow on the other side of the screen.

“Are you Father Alphonsus?  I need to talk with you about something which has me deeply troubled.”

The shadow moved.  Then he heard an indistinct mumble or hum or rasping sound, which Tom assumed was the priest.

“A friend recommended I see you about a problem I’m having.  You see I’m reading a book that has me troubled.  Following the author’s instructions, I took the book without paying for it.”

He listened for a response from behind the screen but only heard the same mumble or hum or rasping sound he heard before, which he took as a sign that the priest was listening.

“Then I performed a ceremony involving candles, incense, and a vial of blue liquid, which I drank.  It was all only a game for me.”

The same mumble or hum or rasping sound came from behind the screen.

“It has to do with free will and forces released when turning away from traditional spirituality.  And well, I’m not sure how to explain it.  I want to put it all behind me.  But now I’m haunted by terribly evil thoughts, nightmares, and shadows.  I’m sure it all has to do with having a guilty conscience.”

This time there was only silence from behind the screen.  Tom wondered if he might have shocked the old priest.

“Father Alphonsus, are you listening to me?  What do you have to say?”

More of the same mumbling sounds which Tom wished he could understand.

“I know it was wrong for me to take the book and experiment with spiritual ceremonies I know nothing about, but can you help me get back some peace of mind?”

Again, there was no response, only the sound of wind passing by the confessional.  When Tom looked through the screen separating him from the priest the dark shadow moved to one side.

“Why don’t you have the decency to answer me?”

Still there was no response. In a fit of rage, he left the confessional.  Tom was determined to find out why the priest behind the closed door did not respond.  He tried the doorknob.  It was unlocked.  The door flew open.  It was pushed from inside.  When he looked, there was no one there, only an empty chair.

Terrified that he was either being haunted by evil spirits or completely losing his mind he ran outside.

“This is all due to a guilty consciousness.  Maybe I’m more religious than I thought.  That’s what it must be.  The guilt must be driving me crazy.”

Hoping the old priest had the answer that would set his mind at ease; Tom left the church and headed back to the rectory.

He pushed open the door to the rectory and went inside.  There was a large desk set at an angle facing the door.  A grey-haired woman sat behind the desk.

"I must see Father Alphonsus right now.”

"He's very busy.  You must have an appointment to see him.”

"If you don't get him out here right now, I'll go back there and get him myself.”

"I'll see what I can do,” she said more out of being frightened by his wild demeanor than having any true compassion for him.

A portly priest with a red face came out from the next room.  His brown eyes were partially hidden behind a pair of large wire framed glasses.  He was wearing the customary black suit and white collar.

"Hello.  I'm Father Alphonsus.  Step back into my office where we can talk in private,” he said in a gentle soothing voice.

Tom followed the priest into a large room with an immense desk, twice the size of the receptionist’s already large desk.  The desk was set against the wall, which had the usual paintings of Christ and Mary.  There was also a painting of Saint Michael, this time with huge wings that could easily power a small plane.  He was standing on a man with hoofed feet and a long tail.  This time there was a different shorter sword plunged deep into the creature’s chest.

"Now how can I help you?"  The priest asked, closing the door.

He sat behind the desk.  Tom took a seat on the leather chair facing the desk.

“Father Alphonsus I’m having some difficulty with feelings of guilt, nightmares, evil thoughts.  A friend told me about your ability and I ah…”

Nervous, he could not concentrate, for a moment unable to explain why he was there.

“You said you are bothered by guilt.  What did you do to make yourself feel this way?”

“Well, I sort of; well, I shoplifted a book.”

Father Alphonsus looked at him for a moment before speaking.

“There is much more to this isn’t there?  Take your time and explain it as best you can.”

The old priest swiveled his chair to the side then cupped his hands as if in prayer.  This time his thumbs were under his chin, his fingers encircling his nose, his head bowed, and his eyes closed.

“I found a mysterious book.  It has no title and no author.  There’s a serpent engraved on the front cover.  The serpent is sending fire towards its own tail.”

“I see.  Except for the fire it’s a variation of an ouroboros.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Okay, continue.”

“Well, I shoplifted it, the way the author suggested.  I believed it was all an interesting game, a sort of playacting.  Later that night I performed the ceremony described in the book.  It was fun.  The back of the book opened into a sort of box that contained all the items I needed.  I even drank the vial of blue liquid that was included.”

“What went wrong?”

“There was supposed to be a chapter to reverse the ceremony.  I made sure I saw the chapter before doing the ceremony.  After the ceremony the chapter was gone, only blank pages in its place.”

“Continue please.”

“Now, I see strange shadows come and go.  I have terrible thoughts and urges.  I almost raped my girlfriend.  I want it all to stop.  I want to start over.  I don’t want special freedom or knowledge.”

“You said you almost raped your girlfriend.”

“We were both drinking.  She was so drunk she did not resist.  She didn’t even realize what was happening.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I couldn’t go on with it.  I couldn’t take advantage of her.  I wanted her to be sober and willing, not drunk and helpless.”

Father Alphonsus looked up and then turned his chair to face Tom.

“You did the right thing.  Perhaps we can have a formal confession where we can try for reconciliation.  Even if you do not intellectually believe in the spiritual reality something deep inside you feels this reality and needs to make amends so you can be at peace.”

Tom felt relieved that the priest understood his predicament.  He wondered if it was possible to have religious feelings on a deep emotional level even though intellectually, he did not believe.  He hoped the priest was right.

“Tom, if you’re not ready right now we can have the confession at some other time when you feel the moment is right.”

“Yeah, that might be best.”

“Let me have a look at the book.  Maybe I can help you better once I’ve seen it.”

It was strange.  He was sure he put it in the pocket of his shoulder bag before leaving his apartment.  Tom got up and searched all the pockets of his bag.  The book could have slid into one of these pockets.  Tom checked each pocket twice, but the book was not there.

“Father, I must have left it at home.  I hope I didn’t lose it.  Usually, I have it in one of the pockets of this shoulder bag.  I don’t know how it happened but it’s not here now.”

“Well, bring it in tomorrow.  I’ll be free after lunch.  Meet me here at about one. In the meantime, perhaps we can say a prayer together.”

“I’m not sure.  I mean I don’t want to pretend at something I’m not sure I believe in.”

“Do it to humor me.”

The priest came out from behind his desk and then pulled up a chair facing Tom.  He took Tom’s hands, placed them on their now touching knees and covered them with his hands.

"I don't feel comfortable doing this.  So, if you don't mind, I'll just leave now."

"Okay, I understand," Father Alphonsus walked Tom to the door.