The Schwarzschild Radius (31 page)

“Rachel was our guest at Transcendence House―only one night, I recall. I was sorry to see you go.”

“I got a lot out of that confession.”

“How was your trip?” asked the cleric.

“Evan, we took a cab, not a stage coach. We’re staying right?”

“Of course. I’m making dinner right now.”

“What’s on the menu?”

“I have your favorite.”

“Philly cheese―YES. With beef and lamb soup?”

“All of the above. And would you like anything special?” he asked Rachel.

“He makes awesome Philly cheese steaks.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Rachel.

“Let’s get this out of the way, and if one of you would help out, we could eat sooner,” said Massey, handing each girl two-hundred dollars. Rachel volunteered for the kitchen duty.

Father Massey put the ketchup and onions on the granite island. “I already thawed out the beef. Just cut the onions and peppers to your liking.”

“Could I ask you a personal question, Father?”

“Call me Evan.”

“Is this your place or the Church’s?”

“Mine. I’m a diocesan priest. We’re allowed to own things. Orders like the Franciscans or Dominicans require a vow of poverty. Pass me that knife, if you would.”

Rachel stood diagonal to him across the countertop. She watched his hands slicing lettuce, carving cheese swiftly, expertly. Could these same hands that elevate the Host have butchered Olivia?

Volunteering to help him was a bad idea. There had to be a special discomfort in hearing someone’s confession, giving penance and blessing, only to later have the process reversed.

“How do you know Sonia? Or did you just come highly recommended?”

“Oh, she and I go back.”

“Can’t go back that far, Father―she’s only sixteen.”

“She stayed in Transcendence House a couple of years ago.”

“Was she in one of those job placement programs?”

“Yes, she was.”

“Did you place her in this job?”

“Sonia has an independent mind. She didn’t cotton to structure. You should get into a program of some kind. Doesn’t have to be Transcendence House. Pan’s ready. Put on the beef.”

Rachel’s fear gave way to anger. There was no description for the size of this man’s ego. Totally blind to his own hypocrisy, he saw himself fit to be counselor, elder, Shepherd of Christ. She couldn’t take it anymore.

“Father, the way I understand it, we’re not here for a prayer meeting.”

The knife stilled in his hand as she wounded him.

“If you want me to leave now, I will,” she said.

After a moment, he turned the beef.

“No, I deserved that.” He pressed the onions down with a spatula. Steam rose up. “I’ve made more mistakes than three people make in a lifetime and maybe becoming a priest was one of them. But I’ve learned from them.”

A bead of sweat began to form on the priest’s forehead, but it might have been from the pan.

He turned up the fire and shook the heavy iron skillet. Rachel thought of all the implements on this counter alone that could be used as a murder weapon. So it must be in the mind of a monster that also does good. Every thought, however beneficent, was also possessed of a handle, a point, an edge.

“Would you like yours cut in half?” he asked.

“I’ll take it just like that.”

At least he didn’t say grace at dinner.

Afterward, Rachel figured it would be show time, but instead, they watched Titanic. Following the long, sad movie, Sonia retired to the bedroom with her client.

After a settling-in period, Rachel opened the door to the study. There were miles of book cases. There was Joseph Campbell’s
The Power of Myth
, a well-thumbed copy of
The Seven Story Mountain
by Thomas Merton and another called
The Infinite Reservoir
, which was the account of his mission in India.
How to Work a Room
.
Men Are from Mars, Women are from Venus
.
How to Read a Person Like a Book
. His taste in music ranged from Handel’s Messiah to Tomita and Led Zeppelin.

It appeared the priest had a merchandising business selling Transcendence House T-shirts, mugs, copies of his book, a newsletter.

She opened the coffee table doors and sifted through old Reader’s Digests, issues of This Old House, and Broadway playbills. She looked under the cushions of the sofa. What was she looking for? A pair of Olivia’s panties? A journal where he confessed everything?

A half hour later, footsteps. She grabbed
The Seven Story Mountain
.

The priest stood at the doorway wearing a bathrobe. There was no longer any pretense. Rachel looked at him, waiting for him to speak first.

“I read that once a year,” he said.

“You get that much out of it?”

“Oh, yes.” He sat down across from Rachel. “It’s such a rich book. Like a great musical composition. You can always find more in it every time you look. Do you know what I mean?”

“I think so. I read the Diary of Anne Frank three times.”

“Did you? That was one of my favorite books growing up.”

“You should read it again.”

“There’s a new version out. A definitive version where she writes about her budding sexuality, her period, her interest in boys. That was left out in earlier editions. Have you read it?”

“You’re quite the conversationalist, Father.”

“I have many interests.”

“Was I making too much noise down here? I’ll be quiet.”

“You weren’t making any noise at all.”

“That was a good dinner. Thanks again. Oh, I should give this back to you.” She put the two-hundred on the table. “Seeing as I didn’t earn it.”

“No, you hang on to that.”

Faith, Hope, and Charity―one out of three ain’t bad.

“I know I have no credibility in your eyes, but why don’t you come back to Transcendence House? I’m sure there’s something we can do for you.”

“No offense, Father, but you’re the one who needs help.”

“No one is pure evil, Rachel. Look around you. This is the good side of me, which is just as real as my flaws. You see these pictures of me with mayors and governors and philanthropists. I leave them on the wall to remind myself that there’s a better side to my nature.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I don’t want you to hate me. I force no one.”

“Pardon my asking, Father, but what
did
your vows include?”

“A promise to befriend. And to strive in the face of hopeless temptation. I knew I couldn’t keep their vows, so I made up my own.”

“Are you trying to be my friend?”

“Always.”

“I can’t accept your friendship.”

“I guess I’m not used to being with someone who can see straight through me. What do you see, Rachel?”

“My opinion matters?”

“I wouldn’t be asking.”

She was torn between truth and guile. “I see a very handsome man with a secret. That’s usually a good thing, but not this time.”

“There’s something else you don’t see. That no one sees. A lonely man. Do you know what loneliness is, Rachel?”

“I’ve had moments. But I’m young and I live in the hope of having a boyfriend, a husband, a family. So there’s an end to that tunnel.”

“I stare into that tunnel every day. You can be the light at the end of it. Rachel, I can love you.”

She looked toward the ceiling where Sonia lay in bed.

“With Sonia and me―it’s just sex. She knows it and I know it. I also want love.” He sat next to her and took her hand. “Do you want love, Rachel?”

“I want truth. I need to know what happened to Olivia. And I think you know, Father.”

assey picked up
The Seven Story Mountain
and opened it. “The search for truth can take us to ugly places,” he said as if the truth sat there in his hands. “But if you want truth, then let’s begin with yourself.” He closed the book and laid it back on the coffee table. “Who are you really? There is no Rachel Barino from Vermont. We follow up on all our kids.”

“I don’t want my parents notified. I’m never going back. I’m on my own now.”

“More reason to have friends who can help.”

“And you want to be one of those friends.”

“I want you to be my friend. I do need redemption, Rachel. And you can help me. I have to start over.”

“With me?”

“If you’ll let me.”

“I don’t know if I’m your type, Father. I’m really eighteen, not sixteen.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Did you fall in love with Olivia? Anyone would.”

“Olivia was well-intentioned. But her work drew her into things she couldn’t deal with. The streets took her over.”

“Did she know about you?”

“You mean about my imperfections? Yes. She didn’t pass judgment.”

He was telling the truth, but not the whole truth. After Olivia had caught him with Gabriella at the retreat, Massey had to find a way to assassinate her character in case she went public with what she saw. When Olivia told him about her sister in the brothel and the money needed to free her, Massey gave her Sonia’s number. He knew Sonia would take care of the rest.

“I can say this: I’ve broken all my vows, but I’ve kept all my promises. In this day and age, that’s more than most. Remember your own weakness before you judge me. Remember what you confessed to me.”

Rachel had confessed that she’d had an affair with a priest who was then transferred to another parish. She had deliberately picked that sin in order to tempt him into seducing her, exposing himself.

“Did you love the priest you spoke about?”

She wanted to torment him.

“Yes, I loved him.”

“How am I different from him?”

“You’re younger than he was.”

“He was older?” It came out of him involuntarily. And, as in Dr. Sartorius’ house, she felt the power she had over this man. But she herself wasn’t immune. She couldn’t get a date with boys her own age, yet now she had entered into a world where she was the most desirable thing there was. Where men of fame and fortune would risk everything, sacrifice all that they were for her love.

“Where’s Olivia?” she asked the priest.

“I had to ask her to leave Transcendence House.”

“Why?”

“She had compromised our principles. She was stripping on the side. She was unworthy to counsel our kids.”