squeezed. “Thanks for doing this with me James!”
I smiled and walked in the opposite
direction, wishing I had driven around town now that I was carrying both
cameras and the basket of leftover treats. Turning the corner onto the main
avenue, I thought about the various conversations I had throughout the week,
searching for any hints I may have picked up about Andy, or anything else for
that matter.
“You’re looking a bit weighed down
there, Jameson.” Father Mike stared at the camera bags hanging from my
shoulders. “Need a hand?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“So you’ve said.”
There was that smirk.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m
trying to get home with this stuff, so you’ll excuse me if I’m not in a chatty
mood.”
“No problem. I’ll walk with you.”
I shrugged and stayed silent, hoping
lack of conversation might make him go away.
“I’m glad I ran into you. I was
thinking about what you said the other day.”
“About punching a six year old? I
think I’m mostly grown out of that. You shouldn’t be too worried.”
“No, about feeling like something
bad is happening. What your moral obligation is.”
I slowed my steps. I didn’t really
want to be conversing with Father Mike but two things struck me. One, he could
give something away in trying to talk to me. After all, in just about every
crime show I’d seen on TV, the bad guy can’t help but hint about his crimes,
right?
Second, I really didn’t want to be
walking up to the house with him by my side. I didn’t know what his involvement
was with Andy, but if he was capable of making him disappear, there was no
telling what he might do if he saw me as a threat. I decided my best bet was to
engage him in conversation and hope it would end before we got to Oak Lane.
“I think that you don’t have a moral
obligation to do anything if it is only a feeling. Acting without evidence can
end up hurting people for no reason. Now, if you had any evidence to support
your feelings, that might be different.”
“Makes sense.”
“But I understand how even a bad
feeling can weigh a person down, so I wanted to apologize if I didn’t seem
sensitive to that when we spoke. I want you to know that you should always feel
free to come to me with anything.” He smiled, the kind of smile that I would
have found charming if I didn’t think it was covering something sinister. He
stopped walking and stepped in front of me, standing uncomfortably close.
“Really, Jameson. Anything.”
I was holding my breath and hoped he
couldn’t hear my heart pounding. The sound of a car pulling up beside us
drowned out the sounds of my own anxiety.
“Afternoon, Father.” Jack leaned his
head out of the Jeep. “James, you headed to the house? Wanna lift?”
“That would be great.” I tried not
to sound too eager, and turned towards Father Mike. “Thanks for the chat.”
He nodded, looking at Jack rather
than me, eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure thing, Jameson.”
“Everything ok?” Jack asked as I
shut the Jeep door.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Father Mike is a little...” I
paused, searching for the right word, “...intense sometimes. That’s all.”
“I noticed.”
“It’s not just me?”
“I hate to speak ill of a man of
God, but I don’t know. Something about him just doesn’t sit right with me. He
seems to show a little more interest in some of the women in town than I think
is right for a priest.”
“Do you think he’s been involved
with any of them?”
“Probably not, but sometimes I think
he’d like to be.” Jack looked at me as he pulled into the driveway. “Your
forehead is all scrunched up. What are you thinking?”
“Just thinking about what you said.
And what happened to Andy.”
“Andy?”
“Yeah. Andy gets mysteriously hurt
and then leaves town without a word, then Father Mike is comforting Emma after
confession...”
“What?”
“She went to confession the other
day. He gave her a hug
I smiled and walked in the opposite
direction, wishing I had driven around town now that I was carrying both
cameras and the basket of leftover treats. Turning the corner onto the main
avenue, I thought about the various conversations I had throughout the week,
searching for any hints I may have picked up about Andy, or anything else for
that matter.
“You’re looking a bit weighed down
there, Jameson.” Father Mike stared at the camera bags hanging from my
shoulders. “Need a hand?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“So you’ve said.”
There was that smirk.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m
trying to get home with this stuff, so you’ll excuse me if I’m not in a chatty
mood.”
“No problem. I’ll walk with you.”
I shrugged and stayed silent, hoping
lack of conversation might make him go away.
“I’m glad I ran into you. I was
thinking about what you said the other day.”
“About punching a six year old? I
think I’m mostly grown out of that. You shouldn’t be too worried.”
“No, about feeling like something
bad is happening. What your moral obligation is.”
I slowed my steps. I didn’t really
want to be conversing with Father Mike but two things struck me. One, he could
give something away in trying to talk to me. After all, in just about every
crime show I’d seen on TV, the bad guy can’t help but hint about his crimes,
right?
Second, I really didn’t want to be
walking up to the house with him by my side. I didn’t know what his involvement
was with Andy, but if he was capable of making him disappear, there was no
telling what he might do if he saw me as a threat. I decided my best bet was to
engage him in conversation and hope it would end before we got to Oak Lane.
“I think that you don’t have a moral
obligation to do anything if it is only a feeling. Acting without evidence can
end up hurting people for no reason. Now, if you had any evidence to support
your feelings, that might be different.”
“Makes sense.”
“But I understand how even a bad
feeling can weigh a person down, so I wanted to apologize if I didn’t seem
sensitive to that when we spoke. I want you to know that you should always feel
free to come to me with anything.” He smiled, the kind of smile that I would
have found charming if I didn’t think it was covering something sinister. He
stopped walking and stepped in front of me, standing uncomfortably close.
“Really, Jameson. Anything.”
I was holding my breath and hoped he
couldn’t hear my heart pounding. The sound of a car pulling up beside us
drowned out the sounds of my own anxiety.
“Afternoon, Father.” Jack leaned his
head out of the Jeep. “James, you headed to the house? Wanna lift?”
“That would be great.” I tried not
to sound too eager, and turned towards Father Mike. “Thanks for the chat.”
He nodded, looking at Jack rather
than me, eyes narrowing slightly. “Sure thing, Jameson.”
“Everything ok?” Jack asked as I
shut the Jeep door.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Father Mike is a little...” I
paused, searching for the right word, “...intense sometimes. That’s all.”
“I noticed.”
“It’s not just me?”
“I hate to speak ill of a man of
God, but I don’t know. Something about him just doesn’t sit right with me. He
seems to show a little more interest in some of the women in town than I think
is right for a priest.”
“Do you think he’s been involved
with any of them?”
“Probably not, but sometimes I think
he’d like to be.” Jack looked at me as he pulled into the driveway. “Your
forehead is all scrunched up. What are you thinking?”
“Just thinking about what you said.
And what happened to Andy.”
“Andy?”
“Yeah. Andy gets mysteriously hurt
and then leaves town without a word, then Father Mike is comforting Emma after
confession...”
“What?”
“She went to confession the other
day. He gave her a hug
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