Friday, January 13, 2017

I Sit Here and Stare - Part C

I know what you’re thinking and no, it’s not what you’re thinking. I haven’t gone completely over to the dark side. I am still standing on the gray line and so they won’t have me yet. My mother’s voice hasn’t stopped echoing in my ears although it’s fading faster with every day spent harboring this new form of an already familiar-felt feeling. This time, it was more than a duty; it was the leaping of a heart beat whenever the spark was ignited. This time, it was strange.

And so it continued; the priest hovering above my head like the dove present at Christ’s baptism. I found myself leaning closer and staring deeper with every meeting and soon it happened.

As he walked slowly and gracefully like a man with steps ordered by the Messiah towards the waiting family, other members of the church stopped him more than once to say their hello but I felt it, his eyes that were like a pool of sea on me as if he had one in every part of the body I now knew too well.

I stood, hands folded in front and waited for him to reach me in time. I was wearing the yellow dress again, looking like the day he’d saved me and hoped he would continue to do so now as the request that had brought me to him was one even I knew God would frown upon.

But I didn’t mind. I could feel my legs become like the weight of a feather, helping my body sway from left to right as nervousness dealt with me. It ate away at my confidence and brought consciousness back to life; consciousness of how the next 72 hours of my life was going to turn in or out.

Finally, he arrived, standing still with a masked smile on his face. He looked at me and bowed and I did the same. Could he see the sadness in my eyes? Would that help him make the decision faster? But no, I wasn’t going to be weak, not today.

“We thought…”

“I know Mrs. Rizzo. It will be well.” He said, reaching for the hands of Mrs. Rizzo as if he could read the regret and sadness written on her palms. He was giving them hope by holding on so dearly and I in that moment held on to this promise.

“Follow me…” he said once he let go of Mrs. Rizzo’s hands. I was to follow him to the confession booth to speak what could be my last piece of parting words to God. The Rizzo’s had thought it was a good idea, to be with God one last time as I embark on my journey but I had other plans in mind. I watched him disappear into his hiding booth where I could only see his face as though in pieces.

 He coughed a moment later and began with the sign of the cross. “In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” And then he urged me to confess my sins one last time saying, “May the Lord be in your heart and help you to confess your sins with true sorrow.”

All this time, I was watching him perform this duty and I knew his heart even more than the God who called him into this. And when I saw him open the bible to read from the very book he didn’t believe in, I began my confession.

I said, “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. I have fallen in love with your servant. A priest. But what is love if I cannot love a man who has chosen to give all of him to you who is love?”

“Nomi,” he said quietly and this time it felt different. There was no fire in the way he spoke my name like before. I could feel rejection coming in the way my name fell cold to the floor.

“NaNomi,” he called and I didn’t need him to remind me of my name so I caught him off.

          “I know you don’t want to be here.” And that was the truth. “You hate it here. You’ve been stuck in this room since you were 24. Repeating the same prayers when there is no sincerity in your heart, you should be the one confessing but you call my name as if I am some strange thing!”

          “Get a hold of yourself.” He said with the same passion and urgency as was present the first time he held me near. This man had succeeded in fooling himself for the past decade but I wasn’t his fool.

          “You, the very thought of you is sin to me. A stain in this cloth I wear. What was your true purpose of coming here tonight? If it isn’t to say your goodbyes I want no more of it. I want you gone. I just want you gone! I can’t think straight when you’re around, I can’t do a thing and this, us, it’s a sin. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

          “But what am I to do?” I asked and he didn’t answer. “I have given up everything, my God, my language, my home, myself, everything just to be here. They’ve come to take me away, I don’t know how they found me so soon but you know I can’t go back to my country. I can’t stay with the Rizzo’s any longer and you know why so what am I to do? You said your government was not like mine so why have they come for me who just wants peace of mind?”

          “Why have you truly come here?”

          “To ask you to come away with me to a place where we wouldn’t have to hide our love before the government comes to take me to a place where there’s no love but war and blood.”

          How could he not understand now that I needed him the most? How could he look at me as if he knew nothing of us? How could he forget the many nights he spent dressed in the normality he wanted with life and with his hands wrapped around my waist seeking to be loved? Or was it all in my head? The testament of the freedom he so wanted away from the church and in my arms? And there I was seeking liberation from a man who himself hasn’t been liberated and I sunk.

          He said, “It was all in your head dear child. Carry on. And may the peace of the lord be with you.” and then he who was like a dream without a sound walked away.

          The End.


  1. Replies
    1. It's always a pleasure to read your comment!

  2. Hello, have you read the other parts? If so, just give it a little time and just absorb everything in. I think it'll make sense then. By the way, we will be moving to a new domain soon. Please keep watch for the announcement so you don't miss any new updated posts.


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