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this is part of a draft of one of the current chapters in which we flash back to the various pasts of our characters. as always, questions and comments are solicited and appreciated, especially from any reformed (or just plain formed) catholics out there who remember their first confessions.
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CONDUIT
"Bless me father for I have sinned -- this is my first confession." 8-year old Anne Marie Leary breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the words flowed from her lips with the rhythm of a nursery rhyme. Her mother had been so convinced she would forget them that she had written them in bold and somehow threatening ink on the back of a business card for a diaper pick-up service and crammed this into the child's trembling hand just before she entered the confessional. Raising one terrifying finger to remind Marie of what would happen should she suffer the humiliation of having to return to the church proper for a reminder of how to conduct herself during the Sacrament of Reconciliation, Mrs. Leary gave her a swat on the rear, causing the little girl to fairly leap through the curtain into the shadowy nook beyond.
But having now said the words properly, Marie took a moment to enjoy the sensation as the throbbing in her temples abated. For an instant, she even forgot the pain coursing through her knees from the lightly padded kneeler. In her relief, however, she did not realize that the wooden slat separating her from the father confessor in the opposite booth had not yet slid open, which it now did with a sharp hiss that nearly sent her screaming from the church itself.
"Do you wish to make a confession?" Marie believed she could actually hear mold growing in the ripely aged voice of the priest, whose profile she marked only in the shadow it cast on the screen patterned with interlocking crosses.
Siezed with a sudden fit of terror, Marie opened her mouth but could not speak.
"Is anyone there?" The voice crackled with agitation.
"It's..." she stammered, "it's M-Marie." To her it seemed suddenly a great triumph that she remembered her own name. "Anne Marie Leary."
In the horrible silence that followed, Anne Marie swallowed and racked her brain for what to say next. As her mother had reminded her several times, she would be addressing a "divinely selected conduit of the Lord's grace on Earth," and although she did not know what a "conduit" was, it sounded like something that could revenge itself upon her for the slightest offense and thus should be approached with caution. Glancing at the card, she took in a sharp breath as she noted her sweating palm had smeared the ink to illegibility. In a maelstrom of indecision, her mind ultimately siezed upon the most basic, least likely to offend bit of information it could find: words she had memorized and been told to say if she ever found herself lost and unable to retain her mother's assistance, which she most certainly did now.
"Anne Marie Leary," she rattled off at lightning speed, "thirteen-thirty-one Aldersyde Road Shaker Heights Ohio four-four-one-two-zero. Phone two-one-six-two-nine-five--"
"Young lady, please!" snapped the conduit.
Marie stopped.
"You are here for the Sacrament of Reconciliation?"
"I--" Marie stammered, "I'm not sure what that... Uhm... My mom said I had to--"
"Is your mother in the church?"
Marie nodded. It was several seconds before she realized the conduit could not see this. She therefore opened her mouth to answer "yes," but stopped herself and, to her surprise, said "no" instead.
A heavy sigh issued through the screen. Marie blinked and felt light headed. After what seemed like an hour, the petulant voice resumed.
"You are in the confessional booth. Have you made a confession before?"
"Nope!" said Marie a little too loudly (so flooded with relief that she had been asked a question she could answer). After a moment, an almost blinding light burst forth across the horizon of her mind. Crushing the card in her tiny right hand, she took a breath and fairly bellowed, "Bless me father for I have sinned -- this is my first confession!" Like a falcon opening its wings, a broad smile spread itself across her face as she threw the useless card over her shoulder. She did not even notice the dejected sigh from the other side of the screen or the silhouette of the conduit's thumb and index finger pressed against its broad, and notably inclined forehead.
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there's more, but that'll have to wait til saturday.
take care
---jones
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"teen-age fan club"
new chapters in Works & Days
a punk rock romance in words, music & art
http://www.freehomepages.com/worksanddays
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Gah! You would end it there. *waits*
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Branflakes, the ninja lesbian milk getter.
The one called "brain".
Crazy A says I'm the Butch.
Where is my strength, compared to yours?
"See that star...the one shining brighter than all the others? I know the girl who hung it there."
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eeps.... hee... I only ever had to go to confession once as I wasn't christian in high school (which was catholic), but I was too old for it to be that traumatic.... hmm... sounds right from what my friends have told me though.... I like the bit where she yells - totally realistic, humorous and tragic all at once... nice.
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"carpe jugulum" - terry pratchett
"but truth is just like time, it catches up and it just keeps going."
-dar williams
"I will always be me; I will always be new."
-delmore schwartz
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Hmmm, it is Sunday and there isn't any more yet... *taps foot*
I am Jewish, so never been to confession, us chosen ones don't have to do that http://www.hostboard.com/ubb/wink.gif
But I am enjoying it so far jones! Please sir, we want some more! *grin*
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- "How do you know the chosen ones? No greater love hath a man than he lay down his life for his friend. Not for millions, not for glory, not for fame... for one person. In the dark. Where no one will ever know or see." - Sebastion, Babylon 5
- INDECISION is the key to FLEXIBILITY.
