Chapter Two
If ever there was a time that I felt like a drink that moment was one. I was able to move past the impulse and close what I figured must be my hanging mouth. “Mike?”
Starbrite sniffled a bit and gave a small laugh. “Yea, he said you two were friends.”
Friends, you could say that. I'd know Mike Regan for most of my adult life. We've been comrades, priests together, friends, enemies, friends...like any relationship over that length of time we've went through many incarnations.
“He said you were one of the only people in the world that he really trusted.” The words stung. I was remembering the last time I had seen Mike. It had been over a year, right after I lost my collar. He tried to offer help, console me with God's will, but I wanted nothing to do with it. I felt betrayed by my church and a little bit by my God at that moment. So he had no chance to reach me with his words.
I never got a chance to apologize to him for my words and actions that day. And now it was too late.
How did you know Father Regan?” I wasn't sure how to take in her words at the moment. I retreated into my best priestly mode to ask questions. If I thought I was at a loss before I was about to really about to be amazed.
“We were, Mike and me, we were lovers.” She was holding my handkerchief in her hands, clasped just below her face, and that sweet, innocent looking face gave me a smile as she said the words that almost, literally, knocked me out of my chair.
We were sitting towards the back of the club, away from the stage. There was no one else around us, everyone else in the club was sitting around the stage and runway. One of the strippers was leading a man towards us and I wondered what they wanted. But it wasn't us they were walking to. The young girl passed us by on the right and I noticed for the first time there were five small rooms behind us with curtains hanging in place of a door. She led the man into one of these rooms and pulled the curtains closed. I watched all this and tried not to think about what Starbrite had just said.
Starbrite saw me watching and thought I was interested. “That's the private rooms, where we can do private dancers to earn a little more money.”
I didn't want to know anymore. Mike had taken the church's side when I had been kicked out. He was my friend but he was a priest of the Catholic Church first he had said. And now I was being told he had broken his vows. I felt betrayed.
“Father Jones, are you okay?” Her nose was running. At the moment she was not in the least attractive. What had Mike seen in her that was worth risking his life's mission for?
I stood up. She started to say something but I held a hand up to stop her from farther words. “Just give me a minute.”
I walked away, leaving her sitting at the table alone. A lone man saw me leave her and started walking back towards her. As he came alongside me I growled at him. “Leave her be.”
I don't know if it was the look on my face or the tone in my voice, but he turned and went back to sit at the side of the stage. I found that I had my fists clenched.
I was standing alongside the bar. This time the bartender did not ignore me. I asked for a beer and he gave it to me. I'd like to say that he gave it with a “on the house” for what I'd already paid him, but I had to peel another ten out of my quickly thinning wallet. I took a deep swallow.
After putting the mug back on the bar I wiped at my eyes. Was I crying? I know I cried the day I heard the news of Mike's death. Even though we parted on terrible terms Mike had, still, meant a lot to me. I didn't like what he told me that day, but I admired him for standing up for his beliefs. Beliefs I now discovered he had being willing to throw aside for a bit of....no, that was crude and beneath him. I'm sure there was more to it than just a roll in the hay.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Starbrite behind me. “Do you want to go somewhere else and talk? I'm sorry, I shouldn't just have laid all that on you like that, but I don't know what to do.”
I gave her a assent to moving our conversation to another location and turned back to my beer while she went to change into something that she could wear legally on the streets. By the time she returned my beer was finished and I was seriously thinking of ordering another one.
She came back out in jeans and a pull over sweater that pretty much covered but did not conceal her assets. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail and she wore a baseball cap with a Voodoo Fest logo on it. She was carrying one of those purses that resembles a large suitcase it was so big. She could smuggle small children in that bag.
Before she could say anything I turned and walked out. She started to make a remark but decided against it and just followed me out. Outside the French Quarter was alive like any other night. It didn't matter that it was close to four in the morning. The Quarter never slept.
She followed behind me as I walked. It was a warm evening, the type I normally liked for walking. I put my hands in my pockets as I walked, realizing that they were still clenched in fists. She stayed about a step behind me, not saying a word.
I wasn't sure where I was going. I just needed the night air to breathe in and the repetition of putting one foot in front of another without having to think about what Starbrite had told me. I remember the arguments Mike and I had. At the time he was my best friend and I thought he would side with me, but he said that some arguments transcended friendships. I called him some names that I really didn't want to think about and had not seen him again. I guess part of me always felt that eventually we'd get back together, meet somewhere and some apologizes on both sides would be muttered and we would sit down and talk and realize how important a real friendship is.
And than he was murdered.
About two weeks ago it was the lead item on all the local news. It actually made the national shows. Priest murdered in his church, his body was mutilated in a fashion that was so gruesome that the police were shocked it was said. There were no leads, most talk was that it had to be someone high on drugs to have did the damage that was done to his body.
His death was bad enough. Now I had to realize that he wasn't as perfect as I thought. Like those that he abandoned he had fallen also.
Abandoned? I shouldn't feel like that. He took his stand and I took mine and we just couldn't agree on a middle ground.
“Father Jones?” Starbrite was still about a step behind me. I stopped and turned to look at her.
“Where are we going?”
I didn't know. I looked about. We were a few doors down from a small hole in the wall eatery called The Voodoo Shop. It served a simple meal done New Orleans style, which meant they covered everything in hot sauce or pepper.
“There.” I was still talking like a caveman. I pointed and we walked over and entered. It was a small place, about a dozen tables spaced apart. It was about half full when we entered and took a table towards the back. It was in an old building, probably built around the 1700s. The walls were plaster and covered with old newspaper clippings from different events in New Orlean's history. Most of the clippings were yellow and curling at the edges. When they got too bad looking Frankie, the owner, took them down and put another one up. He said it was cheaper than wall paper.
I ordered an iced tea and Starbrite a coke. The waitress walked off and we sat there staring at each other and not talking. She must have washed her face when she changed clothes, all her make up was gone and she gave off a healthy farm girl type glow.
“So how long were you and Mike....” I stopped. I didn't know where to go next. Were lovers is what I wanted to say but the words didn't seem to want to come out of my mouth.
Starbrite seemed to think about my question like it was a science quiz and she wanted to make sure she got the right answer. She rubbed her nose with her index finger and thought. “Hmmmm, I guess it's been about a year now, but I met him almost two years before that, when I was seventeen.”
Sweet Lord. I didn't know what to say to that. At least nothing happened until she was of age.
“How did, I mean, how did you and he, did he, jeez....”
She didn't smile at my confusion and I liked her a little bit for that. “I'm sorry, I know you're probably wondering how such a great priest like Father Mike could fall for someone like me. I don't know how it happened either. He's such a great person.”
“Or was such a great person.”
The waitress took that moment to bring us our drinks. We declined to order food and she left us alone as we decided if we wanted to talk or just cry with our memories of Mike.
“My name isn't really Starbrite.” She gave me a smile like she was revealing state secrets. I would never have guessed. “That's just my stage name. I'm really Kelly Joe Mason. I met Father Mike about a year after I had been on the street.”
She called him Father Mike. I didn't want to think too much about that.
“I left home when I was 15.”
“Troubles at home?” When I was a priest I had seen many girls like here. Abused sexually or emotionally at home she leaves thinking there's a better world out there and ends up stripping with a name like Starbrite.
“I got my stage name from my favorite My Little Pony. I thought it was cute.” I took the hint and didn't ask her anymore about her home life.
“Father Mike really loved me. He was talking about leaving the priesthood and becoming a normal man so he could live with me.”
“Being normal isn't all that it's cracked up to be.” I smiled at her and she gave me another one in return.
“Father Mike used to talk about you all the time. He was so sorry that he didn't take your side he used to tell me. Now he knew some of what you went through. Did you leave cause of a girl too? He said you used to be a priest and than weren't but now you were again. I never really understood it all.”
“That's all right, I don't understand it either and I'm living it.” I took a sip from my drink. “I didn't quite leave as get kicked out. But I figured out that if I wanted to be a priest there wasn't a lot they could do to stop me. Being a priest is more than just being part of a church.”
I stopped my spiel because I could see I was losing her.
She finished her coke and looked around. She really did look like a little girl lost. “So what did you call me for? Did you need some help? Some money? I don't have a lot but I can help you out a bit.”
She tilted the cup back and let some ice fall in her mouth which she preceded to chew on. “No, no, it's not that. I need to be able to make it on my own. That's one thing I've learned since...”
She continued after a brief hesitation. “I know who killed Father Mike.”
What do you say to that? “Did you tell the police?”
“Yeah, they thought I was crazy. But I'm not!”
Okay I thought. Maybe not crazy but I was wondering quite how sane. “So who did it than?”
She swallowed and chewed on some more ice.
“It was an angel."
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
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1 comment:
Moving right along with this.
Murdered by an angel. The word angel evokes a benificent connotation - but I suspect you might be talking about some sinister angel here.
Keep it up! Good luck!
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