Chapter Eleven

I felt very naked. Not actually for the fact that I had felt like a hypocrite while saying the homily, but because Collins was there, listening to me preach what I never practiced.

But all the same, I couldn't help it. Just because I was involved in perpetual sin didn't mean that I shouldn't condemn it, it didn't mean that I should come up to the congregation and tell them that having premarital sex was good, that a priest fucking an altar boy was good. No, it never meant any of that, but I still felt naked because I knew that I would probably be sounding so stupid to Collins. Hearing me preach those words after hearing me moan in sexual pleasure multiple times would definitely be something to laugh about.

I didn't want to think about it. I had ended things with him, I had made it clear to him that we never knew each other, and even as my heart ached, I knew that it was for the best.

He left immediately after the morning mass dismissed, seeming like he was avoiding me. I went into the father's refectory and into my temporary room. Father Cyprian had already moved his stuff out but I was still feeling lazy and unmotivated about moving my things into the master’s quarters. I just laid flat on the bed, still wearing my black cassock, staring endlessly at the white ceiling as the soothing air conditioner made me relax.

There was a knock on the door.

“ Who is it?” I asked, wondering who it was that was going to disturb my alone time.

“ It's Patrick father”, the person said behind the door, and my short span memory allowed me to recall that father Cyprian had referred to his cook the other day as Patrick.

“ Come in”, I said, getting up from my bed and going into the outer room that was used as a sitting room.

“ Buenos Dias Padre”, he said with a Spanish accent, surprising me a little because he definitely didn't seem Mexican or Latino.

“ Good morning Patrick. You're still here?” I said, taking a seat on one of the fluffy sofa.

“ Yes Padre, I am”, he replied.

“ I thought you were going to move out with father Cyprian”.

“ No Padre. I was employed by the parish council, not by father Cyprian, so I am to stay regardless of any priest that is here”, he said, still letting off the Spanish accent, making him sound so much like Sofia Verega or something; I had forgotten her name.

“ Oh, okay. That is nice”, I said.

“ But Padre, if you do not want my service anymore, you can tell the parish councilors to employ a new cook. I mean, if that is what you want”, he said, sounding a little bit agitated - he definitely wanted to stay back as a cook.

“ Well Patrick, I never said I wanted a new cook”, I said, raising my eyebrows as his eyes glittered with joy, “ since you were employed by the parish, you should of course remain”.

“ Gracias Padre”, he said, making a full bow with a smile on his face.

“ But then be mindful. I'm not a very picky person but I do have a taste for orderliness, so as long you do what you're supposed to do, I definitely won't have any problems with you. Am I understood?”

“ Yes Padre. I promise to be at my very best”, the smile was still on his face.

“ Okay. So, it seems like you had visited this morning with something to tell me?”

“ Yes Padre”, he extended the paper he was holding to me, “ it's a list of things that we need for the upkeep of the house.

“ Wow, that's actually a lot”, I said, going through the list he had written with his terrible handwriting; that was the first time I was seeing a handwriting that looked more untidy than the public toilets in India. “ All of this? Really?” I asked, taking note of everything that was written in the list. It was divided into sections; groceries, beverages, fruits, and drinks.

“ Yes Padre”, he said, nodding again with all affirmation.

I took a look at the things that were listed into the different sections just to make sure that he hadn't included bricks and cements: he might be planning to build a house fraudulently, probably with the mindset that I wouldn't go through the list.

The grocery section had a list of things like fresh tomatoes, canned tomatoes, onions, spring onions, potatoes, carrots, broccoli, spinach, cabbage, flour, bread, butter, mayonnaise, meat, chicken, peas, green beans, and other things.

The beverage section had a list of things like evaporated milk, milk powder, condensed milk, cocoa powder, sugar, honey, coffee, and cereals of different types. The fruit section had a list of apples, strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, oranges, pineapple, watermelon, cucumber, mango, banana, nut; yeah, I think that was all there, and for the drink section he just included names of drinks that I knew too well were not alcoholic but supplementary fruit drinks.

“ Was this how you managed the house while father Cyprian was still around?” I asked, just being inquisitive.

“ Yes Padre”, he said and I nodded. Truth be told, I was actually impressed. The fact that he had divided the list into categories made it obvious to me that he was a meticulous type, and that was very welcome by me.

“ Okay. You'll have to suspend getting them for today, okay?” He nodded, “ maybe tomorrow or the next. I've not yet sorted out the house bursary account”.

“ Okay Padre, and um, breakfast is ready”.

“ Okay, I'll be down in a few minutes”, I said and he bowed down and left, with his shoulders falling below; a clear sign that he felt intimidated or something.

I changed into a pair of pants and a shirt and headed downstairs to the dining room.

“ Padre, the reverend sisters are here to see you”, Patrick said just as I was about to make myself a cup of tea. The toast that he had made smelled so nice that leaving it to attend to the sisters would be a heartbreaking thing to do, but I did it anyways.

“ Where are they?” I asked, swallowing spit and standing up.

“ In the sitting room”, he answered.

“ I'll go meet them”.

I walked towards the sitting room, not knowing why exactly the sisters would want to visit. They were the Sister Of The Handmaid Of The Child Jesus, and they had their provincial convent in our area. They had attended mass that morning, and were the ones who led the hymns on Mondays.

“ Good morning father”, I was greeted by three of them which I thought I had seen during mass. We all smiled at each other.

I was pretty sure that they were happy to see me; the new priest, but little did I know that one of them was going to send me to jail.