Everybody’s anatomical unconscious is doing more or less the same thing, unless they are deficient or mutated.
Father O’Reilly recoiled in horror from the words on the screen. This was how the preacher defended hate mongering and engineering the end of the world? This was how the old viper responded to an archbishop questioning his doomsday prophecy? Everybody is doing it and we’re all jerks so why not ride the wave? It sickened the young priest enough to make him question every man of faith, back to the one he served.
That doubt did not keep him from hesitating. The delay was short however. Dialing the number made him almost as nervous as teaching preschool did these days. When Jack answered on the fourth ring his speech was slurred and mushy, but who would expect any less.
“Jack, I am sorry for your loss.”
He listened and offered a heavy sigh before responding.
“I understand why you would say that. I have no love for your lifestyle but I still hate to see someone in pain.”
The alcohol on the detective’s breath was so strong the father could smell it through the phone. O’Reilly had a flash of that day in the confessional that started it all, at least for him. His doubt in the machine was not a test of faith so he silently prayed that a repeat performance not come to pass.
“You have me all wrong. I know you need your time to grieve.”
O’Reilly pulled the phone from his ear to avoid irreparable damage to the drum. When the slurring returned to a normal volume he pulled the handset back to his head.
“I’m not asking you to do anything. We both know who killed your… lover though. You’ve got a pretty personal stake in this game now.”
The sobs on the other end of the phone made the response almost indecipherable. Thankfully a priest gets used to hearing whispers through a grate that warps words and meanings.
“I’m not trying to get you back on the case. I’m calling to tell you that when you do get back to it I’m here to help you now. Just let me know what I can do.”
The shock and sudden sobering brought a smile to the young priest’s lips. It was nice to surprise people in a good way. His nod went unseen as he thought carefully about his response. Why was he getting involved? Why risk his standing in the community and his place in the church? These were what O’Reilly thought of as German questions and he would not repeat the church’s mistakes from back then.
“It’s simple, when you get a mentally unstable preacher yapping menopausally at some poor hamstrung old archbishop, while we dismantle our environment, our world and our faith due to the materialistic, pessimistic principles that the atheistic tyranny of the day is strictly sponsoring,.. it is time to look for a new story.”
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