Authors: Christopher Pike
The priest was gentle. “Do I scare you?”
She considered. There was truly a warm and loving atmosphere in the room. It was as if she had finally come home after a long adventure.
“No,” she said. “You seem like a nice man. But I have to tell you up front that I don’t know why I’m talking to you. I’m not a Catholic. I’ve never been to confession before.” She made a helpless gesture with her hands. “I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Maybe I can help you. I understand you were recently involved with a young man, and that the two of you broke up and your feelings were hurt.”
Teresa shrugged. “I’m getting over it. It’s no big deal.”
“But it is a big deal to you.”
She smiled. “Can you read my mind?”
“I can see the pain on your face. Tell me about it, Teresa.”
Teresa considered. He was perceptive, she had to give him that. She figured there’d be no harm in talking to him about what Bill had done to her. She had talked about little else all night.
“All right,” she said. “Bill was my boyfriend. He was the first boyfriend I ever had. I cared about him a great deal, and I thought he cared about me. He acted like he did. He helped me get a singing job at a well-respected club near the beach. He gave me confidence in myself, something I never had before. But it was all ruined when he cheated on me behind my back with my best friend, Rene.”
“You say he gave you confidence in yourself. Did he do anything else for you?”
“He did a lot of things. He made me feel things I had never felt before. He bought me things, small gifts. He went out of his way for me. Once I was sick and he took me to the doctor when...” Her voice trailed off. “But I did a lot of things for him, too. I was totally devoted to him. He was not devoted to me.”
“Why wasn’t he devoted to you?” the priest asked.
“Because he was a jerk, that’s why. I’m sorry, but I think that’s what it boils down to.”
“Before he met your friend, Rene, did you feel he loved you?”
“He told me he did. I believed him. But it was just another lie.”
“Do you feel he loves you now?”
She made a face. “No way. He wouldn’t have dumped me so easily.”
“Was it easy for him?”
She forced a laugh. “I think it was a lot easier for him than me.”
“Go on, Teresa.”
“Well, it hurt me. I felt like I wanted to die. I can’t tell you how much it hurt. It was like I was living a perfect fairy tale and I was so happy and everything was so perfect. But then – bang! Wake up, girl. The dream is over. Your boyfriend is sleeping with your best friend.”
“How do you know Bill was sleeping with Rene behind your back?”
“I caught them.”
The priest was surprised. “You did?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Today.”
“When did Bill break up with you?” the priest asked.
“Today. Well, it’s early Sunday morning right now. He actually dumped me Saturday evening. Rene was there, at my parents’ apartment. He gave me the news and then he left with her.”
“Did you see him after that?”
“No. I mean, yes.” She lowered her head. “I saw him, but I didn’t talk to him.”
“Because you found him in Rene’s arms?”
A tear ran down her face. “Yes.”
“Tell me about it. It will help.”
She sniffed. “How will it help?”
“You have to feel your pain before you can offer it to the divine.”
“How do you offer your pain to the divine?” she asked. “You just do it. It’s easy. It’s the only way to deal with situations that are too painful to bear. But first you have to accept what is real. Tell me what really happened, Teresa.”
She looked up into his kind grey eyes. She had just met him, she didn’t even know his name, but she would have liked to have had him for her father, even if he was a priest. He had the most gentle voice.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll tell you.”
Teresa lay on the floor a long time after Bill left with Rene. It was dark when she finally sat up and looked around. The apartment was empty, and she did not expect her parents back until the following evening. She had nothing to do and no one to do it with. That was not going to change, she thought. Bill was gone. Her Bill, taken from her by her friend – and he was not coming back.
But that thought –
Bill is gone for good
– was not that clear in her head, nor were the other thoughts. She wouldn’t let them be. The ideas floated in and out of her awareness in the form of,
Bill’s going to be harder to talk to now
, or,
Bill doesn't know what he's doing
, and,
I'm going to kill those two.
She was sad beyond words, she was madder than hell, and she was confused. Her confusion was vast. She thought if she could talk to Bill again, maybe just for a few minutes, things would become clearer. He had said something about not wanting to leave her at that time, so he must still care about her. He couldn’t want to end it just like that. He had never even slept with her for God’s sake.
Teresa went into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water. The lights in the apartment were off. The dark was of peculiar comfort to her. It shielded her from things that would have been too harsh to look upon at the moment.
Just before she left the kitchen, her fingers grasped an object – a steak knife. Her parents loved steak, but she enjoyed only fish and chicken. She was a semi-vegetarian. She picked up the steak knife anyway and a powerful image – it was so clear, so strong, it might have been a vision – of her stabbing Bill and Rene flashed through her mind. She saw the blade cutting through their flesh, felt their blood spurting over her arms. Yet the image was so grotesque it made her shudder and she pushed it away.
The knife. What did she do with the knife?
She had slipped it into her back pocket.
Why?
There was no why. She was upset.
She left her apartment and drove to Bill’s house. For a long time she just sat in her car and stared at the place. All the lights were off. Bill’s car was parked out front – beside Rene’s. She had no trouble recognizing her best friend’s vehicle, but she didn’t fully comprehend what it signified. Oh, she knew it probably meant Rene was inside with Bill, but that they were together,
really
together, was hard for her to fathom. Even Bill couldn’t have forgotten her that fast.
She eventually got out of the car. At the front door of the house, she didn’t knock. She had a key and just went inside. Bill’s parents, she remembered, were away for the weekend. It was kids’ weekend, she thought. Anything goes.
Anything at all.
She found them in the family room. Lying on the floor in front of a smouldering fire. Lying together asleep beneath a patchwork quilt their faces blank under the spell of sleep. She stood watching them and they didn’t move once. Their breathing, though, she could hear that. The sound of air going in and out of their lungs annoyed her. She was confused, but she knew this much: they weren’t supposed to be sleeping together.
She took the knife out of her back pocket.
The steel of the blade glowed red in the faint light radiating from the low flames in the fireplace. The
vision
she’d had in her kitchen returned as her mind began to clear. What was there to be confused about? This afternoon she had been Bill’s girlfriend. Tonight Rene was his girlfriend. Three minus one equals two. The mathematics were simple. Goodbye, Teresa, and thanks for introducing us. You were finally good for something. Bill changed partners like he did shirts, she thought in disgust. He'd have a hard time, though, taking off the shirt he was wearing now if there was a knife stuck through it – all the way through to the inside of his ribcage. Rene also would have a difficult time combing her beautiful black hair if it was soaked with blood. Dried blood was known to cause hard-to-manage knots.
Teresa didn’t know which one she hated more.
She stepped into the family room.
“Then what did you do?” the priest asked.
Teresa was embarrassed. “I came to my senses. I’m no killer. I dropped the knife and ran out of the house. When I got home, I packed an overnight bag and got in the car and started driving. I picked up Poppy Corn and her friend, Freedom Jack, just before I got on the freeway.” She shrugged. “And now I’m here. That’s my confession.”
“Are you running away from home?” the priest asked.
She had denied the question all night, but it was harder to lie in the presence of this fine man. It seemed he had an intuitive sense for when the truth was bent. Lowering her head, she sniffed again. Her face was still damp from her tears.
“I am, yes,” she said.
“Do you know where you’re running to?” he asked.
“No.”
“You’re going nowhere.”
He was not asking her. He was stating a fact. She raised her head. “I suppose I’ll end up somewhere,” she said.
The priest surprised her. He shook his head. “Not necessarily. You’re in trouble, Teresa. There’s nowhere left for you to go.”
Suddenly she was having trouble breathing. The confessional room that she had found cosy only minutes ago now seemed claustrophobic. Even the smell of the flowers was bothering her, making her sinuses swell. Something had begun to clog her head. Pressure grew in the centre of her skull. It grew as her heart throbbed there – the same throbbing she had experienced in her wrist.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I’ve done nothing wrong. I dropped the knife and left Bill’s house.”
“Are you sure you dropped the knife?” the priest asked.
“Yes. Positive. I wouldn’t lie about it.”
The priest sighed. He looked down at the book, resting closed on his lap. It was an old volume, with a cover dried with time. She couldn’t tell if it was a Bible, though. There was no title on the outside.
“The worst lies are the lies we tell ourselves,” the priest said. “We live in denial of what we do, even what we think. We do this because we’re afraid. We fear we will not find love, and when we find it we fear we’ll lose it. We fear that if we do not have love we will be unhappy. But the nature of God is love. The nature of God is happiness. We are a part of God, and because of that we have nothing to fear.” He looked at her and smiled gently. “Relax, Teresa, and tell me what happened. I will not judge you, no one will. I am not asking you to confess. I am only asking that you drop your state of denial.”
Teresa was perspiring heavily. “But I’ve told you everything I know. I did not stab them – I wouldn’t have done that. You have to believe me.”
“What did you do then?”
“I left! I ran away! I got in my car, went home for a few minutes to pack, and ran away from home! What do you want from me?” She burst out crying. “I can’t tell you what I don’t remember!”
The priest was interested. “Is it that you can’t remember something?”
“Yes! I can’t remember what I did with the knife!”
The priest leaned forward. “Let me help you remember. This is where you are having trouble. You left Bill’s house. You—”
“Stop!” Teresa cried, jumping to her feet. “I have to go. I’m sorry, but I can’t go through this. I don’t deserve this. I’ve done nothing wrong except be abused. That’s my only crime, Father.”
The priest took her in with sorrow on his face. “It’s a crime to be abused,” he said.
“You’re damn right it is.”
Teresa strode from the room. Poppy was waiting outside, kneeling in a pew beside the confessional booth. She could have been deep in prayer for all Teresa knew, or cared. But Poppy jumped up and chased after her as Teresa hurried from the church, out into the fragrant courtyard, and then back towards the front of the church. Teresa had eyes only for her car. She needed to get in the car and get away as fast as she could. She had felt that way at her apartment.
“What happened?” Poppy gasped, running to catch up with her.
“I learned that the road up ahead is blocked,” Teresa said. “But it doesn’t matter. We can break on through to the other side.”
Poppy stopped dead in her tracks. “That’s what they all think.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They were in the car driving north at high speed, the road deserted in both directions. The rain fell again, in torrents now. Poppy was silent in the back seat. Free fidgeted in the front, wired to the max. He had changed into a black suit with a red hat. His garment bag lay folded on his lap. It appeared to be empty. He was talking about a place up ahead that he said she had to see.
“They have great food there,” he said. “You can get anything you want. The service is wonderful. They have an incredible wine selection. There’s no waiting, either. Only a few people know about the place.”
“It sounds nice,” Teresa muttered, distracted. The expression of sorrow on the priest’s face continued to haunt her. Of course, he was a nice man, but he’d had nothing really important to say to her. She didn’t know why Poppy had been so anxious for her to meet him. He’d been way off talking about her being in a state of denial. She hadn't done anything wrong – what was there to deny? Anyway, how could you expect a priest to understand relationships? They were all celibate.
The sky was growing lighter.
Dawn was not far off.
“It’s just up ahead,” Free continued. “I’ve been here before. There’s nothing you want that they haven't got.” He slapped the dashboard. “Hell, they even sell money, it’s that full-service kind of place.”
“Neat,” Teresa said. She spoke to Poppy. “Have you been there before?”
“Once,” Poppy mumbled. “For cigarettes.”
Teresa laughed, although she didn’t feel much like laughing. She was so close to throwing up that she had to drive with the window down even with the rain blowing. “We’ll be sure to get you cigarettes,” Teresa said.
“Don't bother,” Poppy said. “I’m trying to quit.”
“It’s here!” Free shouted, pointing excitedly. “Turn off here. Wow, I can’t believe it. We made it. I was afraid we were never going to get away from that goddamn church.”
“What turn-off is this?” Teresa asked, squinting through the pouring rain. She must have the name of the road wrong. It couldn’t be—