Read Online The Jew's Wife & Other Stories by Thomas J. Hubschman - Free Book Online Page B

think I’d invite you down here—I mean, you a priest and
all…?”
        Father
Walther realized he should have sensed something was up when
Margaret told him his old friend had telephoned. Charlie had never
been one for purely social calls. Even those star parties of their
adolescence were only forums for the latest crisis in his
intellectual or love life. But that particular evening several
years back when Charlie had dropped by his rectory the curate had
just finished putting in a couple hours in a stuffy confession box
and hadn’t been in a mood to inquire too curiously about his
friend’s marital state.
       “So, now you’re starting
over.”
       “That’s right.” They had reached
the stretch of beach opposite Charlie’s house. The toddler and
mother were gone. “Although I guess I prefer to see it as something
more original. Look here,” he added, paying no mind to the icy
water lapping at his ankles, “you haven’t said you don’t approve.
But you’re wearing the same sanctimonious look you used to put on
when we were kids. I know it’s your job to represent the church’s
position. But I’m not talking to you as a priest, man.”
        Charlie’s impatience came as less of a surprise than did his
accusation of sanctimoniousness. It had never occurred to young
Richard Walther that his adolescent homilies were resented or,
worse, not taken seriously.
       “ I can’t
believe one thing with my collar on and another when it’s off. I am
your friend, Charlie. But I’m still a priest. I can’t change
that.”
        The
waves broke noisily beside them, angry like the flush on Charlie’s
face. He had never liked the answers Richard had given him, whether
about extraterrestrials (redeemed or prelapsarian?) or sexual
morality. He had always insisted on a rational explanation based
purely on empirical evidence. But there was never anything logical
about his own emotions. The young priest-to-be once watched him
pound a dead log to pulp with a tire iron during a fit of
frustration brought on by Richard’s insistence that there was
indeed a hell. Charlie was one of those who thought Vatican II had
rewritten canon law to conform with the spirit of the Declaration
of Independence. As it turned out, he had plenty of company in that
view, even among clergy.
        Father
Walther had hoped to turn this conversation in a direction very
different from the one it had taken. He had hoped to step out of
his clerical persona, to become just an ordinary man taking a walk
with an old friend. But that was not to be. The world seemed
conspiring to keep him in a roman collar, even when he was more
than willing to trade it for a sport shirt.
        The tide
was coming in. The eastern horizon was dusty purple. A tanker’s
silhouette seemed painted there.
       “ Look, I
didn’t mean to fly off the handle. I understand you can’t say what
I did was right. Okay. But I don’t want this to make any difference
about your staying on. I promise not to bring the subject up
again.”
        The
priest regarded him without rancor. Charlie’s apologies had always
been endearing, no matter how outrageous his behavior.
       “ You
bring up any subject you please. We don’t have to agree about
everything. God knows we never did in the past. Do you remember all
those times you froze my ass off just so you could look at the
moons of Mercury?”
       “ Mercury
doesn’t have any moons, Richie. But just wait till it’s dark. With
my new reflector I can show you stars millions of light-years
away.”
       “ Do little green
men live there?”
       “ Probably.
Statistically, it’s almost a certainty.”
       “ You used to be
more definitive.”
        By now they were
crossing the last dune between the house and the beach. Sylvia
waved to them from the second-story balcony where she had set up a
charcoal grill. Charlie waved back. So did Father
Walther.
        As they
climbed the narrow wooden