The Prodigal Son Page 13

  “Go ahead, my son. Continue,” Father Brennan said.

  “. . .Father, most of all, I am truly sorry for committing the sin of murder.”

  “. . .Because of that, Father Brennan, you became a marked man,” Jack concluded. “And so, yours truly was given the contract to take you out, Father. The envelope with the money came with specific instructions for me to find and kill Father Edward Brennan of the Sacred Heart of Jesus Catholic Church in New Orleans. At the time, I didn’t know why. Didn’t care, either. It wasn’t any of my business anyway. I was paid twenty-five grand for the job, Father. Half up front, the other half upon completion. That was all the reason I needed at the time. So I tracked you down and found you. Forced you at gunpoint to come with me. I even picked out a very secluded, swampy area across the lake up near Mandeville to do the job, and planned to leave your body for the gators to feast on while I headed back across the causeway and down into the Quarter for an evening of relaxation.” He paused, his voice choking as he continued and said, “But then I saw something in you I haven’t seen in others in a very long time. At first, I thought it was just courage that I saw, but I knew it was far more than that. What I saw was absolute fearlessness in your eyes, Father. There I was, with my forty-five aimed right at your heart; I’m ready to pull the trigger and blow you away and I just couldn’t do it. I must admit it now, Father, it was a lousy thing I was about to do, but when I saw how you weren’t afraid to die, something just got to me. All I can say, Padre, is there was no way I was going to go through with it after that. I just didn’t have the stomach for it anymore.”

  Jack waited for the priest to launch into a tirade at him. After all, he had it coming to him, with what he had just said. But Father Brennan just sat there, grim-faced, staring vacantly past Jack to the other side of the room.

  “Father, did you hear what I just said?” Jack asked. “That’s the long and short of it. The reason why I was supposed to kill you. And the reason why I didn’t.” He paused before adding, “At least now you know the full story.” He pulled a cigarette out of his pack, lit it, inhaled deeply, and exhaled very slowly. The cloud of smoke seemed to hover in the air around him before it dissipated.

  Father Brennan turned slightly and looked at Jack. “Yes, Jack, I heard what you said. And I appreciate your telling me. When you said you saw courage in me—well, let me tell you I was terrified; I was truly expecting to die and I feared for my life. But I quickly realized if you did kill me I’d be in the presence of God the very next moment, and that comforted me greatly. That was the ‘fearlessness’ you say you saw in me. It wasn’t a lack of fear that you saw, Jack. There was a lot of it floating under the surface. The fearlessness you say you saw in my eyes was from the calming presence of the Holy Spirit.” He paused, then added, “And a verse from the Bible popped into my head, where Paul wrote ‘For me, to live is Christ, but to die is gain.’ How could I be fearful after that, knowing I’d be with my Heavenly Father for all eternity?”

  “I don’t know, Father. That may work for you, but it doesn’t for me. Not with what I’ve seen and done in my lifetime. There’s way too much water under the bridge for me to think like that. I’m afraid I’m headed in the opposite direction when I kick the bucket.”

  “That’s because of the unconfessed sin in your life, Jack. Although you won’t admit it, I can see it troubles you greatly. Sin is what separates us from God, and it must be confessed. No sin is so great that God won’t forgive us of it. And when He does, He remembers it no more. All you have to do is confess them. Do that, Jack, and heaven awaits you.” He paused before adding, “Don’t, and hell awaits. It’s your choice. It’s really that simple.”

  “I’ve heard all that before, Father. Funny thing is, I used to believe it, too. But I don’t anymore. I can’t.” Jack paused, then said, “Take murder, for instance. That’s one of the ‘mortal sins’ in the eyes of the Church. This Gino fella, he goes and commits it by killing his wife’s lover. He feels guilty about it, so he comes to you and confesses it. You absolve him of his sin, dispense some form of penance on him, and tell him, ‘Go in peace, my son. God has forgiven you.’ And so he’s off the hook from going to hell for it? Excuse me, Father, but he’s still a murderer as far as society is concerned. He still has a price to pay, don’t you think? Maybe it needs to be made public what he did, so he can answer to the law for it.”

  “What that man said to me in the confessional was private, between him and me and God. No one else was supposed to know what went on in there. He should never have told his brother. And this accountant you said you talked to—this modern-day ‘Judas Iscariot’—how much did he really gain in passing along this information to you?”

  “It cost me a couple of grand, Father. But I really didn’t mind paying it.”

  “I’m not talking about the money, Jack. I’m talking about the principle of the matter. Some things that are said in confidence should remain that way. Is there no shame left in this world?”

  “I suppose not, Father. The love of money. . . Hey, I’m just as guilty as the next guy. I guess I’m really no better than Gino, or that little jerk in Mobile, I suppose.”

  “Is that a confession I’m hearing, Jack?” Father Brennan asked.

  “No, Father, it’s not.”

  “Maybe the beginning of one then? It’s time for you to turn away from this path you’re on. Time to put all this behind you, Jack. Please ask God for His forgiveness, before it’s too late. Return to Him.”

  “What, like that Prodigal Son in the Bible? I don’t see that happening to me, Father. Like I said, too much water under the bridge. Besides, I couldn’t afford it.” After a moment, he added, “I think I’ve run out of time, too.”

  “What do you mean by that, Jack? There’s nothing that has to be paid anymore. It’s been paid by Jesus Christ; by what he did on the cross.”

  “I’m not talking about that, Father,” Jack replied. “I’d be giving up too much money if I quit this business. I make a darn good living doing what I do.”

  “Some things are more important in life than making money, Jack.”

  “I figured that’s what you’d say, Father. Money may not be the key to happiness, but it sure keeps the wolves at bay.”

  “And the thing you said about time, Jack. What made you bring that up?”

  Jack extinguished the cigarette, threw the butt in the half-filled ashtray, and said, “I don’t know, Father. I’ve got this feeling—had it for a while now—that I’ve pushed the envelope a bit too hard. If I were a cat, I’d be on my ninth life right now. I’m kind of fatalistic, aren’t I?”

  He didn’t wait for the priest to respond; he simply stood up and said, “Excuse me for a minute or two, will you Father? It’s time I paid a little visit to that bathroom over there.” He paused, then turned back to the priest. “Keep an eye on that for me, will you?” he said, pointing to the .45 lying on the arm of the chair. “It’s loaded, so don’t go messing around with it.”

  “Trust me, Jack. I wouldn’t dare touch it. I wish you wouldn’t, either.”

  * * *

  Jack returned from his bathroom break, sat back down in the chair, and lit another cigarette. Father Brennan frowned at him; Jack glanced down at the cigarette in his hand and then looked up at the priest.

  “What, Padre? Is the smoke bothering you or something?”

  “It is, but I’ll survive. I’m worried you won’t, Jack. How many packs a day do you smoke?”

  “One, sometimes two. I know, I know. I’ve read the warning from the surgeon general. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and a bullet will kill me before these things do.”

  “Yes, I remember you telling me that. It’s really not funny, you know.”

  “I never said it was. I’m serious, Father. I just don’t think it’s in the cards for me to live a long, healthy life. I’m too much of a realist. There’s not a lengthy life expectancy in my line of business. Not too many of us live to retirement age.”

  “Y
ou know it doesn’t have to be like that, Jack. What concerns me most is your flippancy about it all. Surely you’re not as indifferent about your life as you’re making it sound. Every life has value, Jack. God made us in—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘He made us in His image, to know Him, to love Him and to serve Him.’ Blah, blah, blah. Remember, Father, I had all that shoved down my throat for eighteen years. First by Mom and Dad, then the priests and the nuns at St. Michaels’s back home in Pensacola. But then God goes and lets me down.” He paused to take another drag on the cigarette. “Please, Father, I don’t need any of it from you, too. Okay?”

  “Jack, you can be antagonistic toward me, but why God? What happened to you to make you so—so disappointed with Him?”

  “If only you knew, Padre. If only you knew. Let’s just say I’ve seen so much evil in this life that I believe God just doesn’t care anymore. I know what you’re thinking and I agree—I know I’m responsible for some of that evil out there with what I do for a living. I still believe He’s out there and all, but I just don’t think He takes too much of an interest in what we do down here anymore. I think He’s about as jaded as I am.” He paused before adding, “Life isn’t what it’s cracked up to be, you know. Sometimes I think the alternative to living might not be so bad after all.”

  “Jack, I know you don’t want me to preach to you—”

  “You’re darn right, Father,” Jack interrupted. “So don’t.”

  “Okay, but allow me to say one more thing and I’ll then shut up. I’ll do my best to not say another word on the subject after this. God does indeed care for us, and He takes what we do very seriously, Jack. So seriously, in fact, that He sent His one and only Son to show us His love and mercy and grace. To forgive us for our failures, so that one day we can be with Him for all eternity. Please take that seriously and think about what happens after this life has ended and we stand before Him. We will stand before Him, Jack, and account for our lives here on this earth. The alternative to eternal life is eternal death, separation from Him and His love.” He paused, then added, “Do me a favor and just think on that a little, will you?”

  “Maybe I will, Father. Then again, maybe I won’t. Now, if you will, Padre—”

  “Yes, Jack. I’ll bite my tongue,” Father Brennan said. He wanted to continue, but he could sense it was best to change the subject. For the time being, at least. “Now then, let’s get back to this ‘hit’ that was placed on me. I’m puzzled by it and I’m trying to make some sense of it all. I mean, what would be the point? I wouldn’t have said anything to anyone. I can never reveal what was told to me in the confessional. When I became a priest one of my vows was that I would never break the Seal of the Confessional. Not even if my life depended upon it.”

  “I don’t think they saw it that way, Father. I think they got worried you would reveal the confession to the police. They’re running scared right now. That’s why I came into the picture.” He paused, then said, “And so, here I am.”

  “Yes, here you are. Looks like you were the one handpicked for the job, Jack. Chosen by—”

  “Yeah, I was chosen by them all right,” Jack interjected. “I had done a couple of jobs for these guys in the past, and they threw a lot of cash at me to take this one. Now that I think about it, I’m a little upset with myself for considering going through with it in the first place. I’m more upset with myself than I am with them. But that’ll change soon enough. When my replacements find us, I’m afraid I won’t be in a very good mood, Father.” He paused, then said, “I won’t be rolling the red carpet out for them when they arrive, that’s for sure.”

  “I agree you were chosen by those men for the job, but more importantly, I believe you were chosen by God for it, as well. And there’s one other thing for you to consider, Jack. Just as those men made a choice in picking you to come after me, you made a choice of your own—you chose not to go through with it. That decision was not just because you—what was it you said?—you ‘didn’t have the stomach for it.’ It was actually your conscience bothering you, and that’s where the Holy Spirit enters the picture.”

  “I thought we weren’t going to bring any of that back into this conversation. I thought you agreed to that, Father.”

  “No, Jack, I didn’t really agree to it. You said you didn’t want me to ‘preach’ anymore. So I’m not preaching, Jack. I’m just talking to you as your friend. Think of it as my way of offering you some very friendly advice. My opinion on some of life’s most important matters. Do you remember what I said to you last night? God’s hand is all over this, Jack. He brought the two of us together for a reason. He had a purpose in doing so. I believe with all my heart He placed us in each other’s paths for a specific reason, so that good things will result. Goodness comes out of encounters such as these, and whether you believe it or not, Jack, something good will come of all this. All because of a choice you made.”

  “Sorry, Father, I still think of that as preaching. If not, then it sure sounds more like a lecture than just your opinion and friendly advice. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate your concern for me, but like I said before, tell that to the kids at that Catholic high school down the road from your church. Better yet, save all this ‘good and evil’/‘God’s will’/‘God’s mercy and grace’ discussion for one of those Theology 101 classes at Loyola, will you? I’m more interested in what Real Life 101 taught me.”

  “And what is that, Jack?”

  “That life’s a bitch, Father. A genuine struggle where only the strong survive.”

  “That’s a little harsh, Jack. I wouldn’t put it quite that way. Life is hard. No doubt about it. It has its trials, I agree. But it’s often during those trials that we need Him the most. Things have happened to cause you to turn your back on Him, but He hasn’t turned His back on you, Jack. He’s right where He’s always been. You’ve just got to quit your wandering away from Him and return to Him.”

  “There you go with that Prodigal Son business again.”

  “Sorry, Jack. I just can’t help it. It’s a favorite of mine. I’ve given many a sermon in my time based on that parable.”

  “I don’t doubt it, Padre. Not for a minute. But let’s change the subject, okay? I know that may grieve you a little, but we have other things to think about and discuss. First and foremost, I’ve got to think about saving your skin. And mine. I’ve kept you here at this motel long enough and need to move you today before they find us.”

  “So what’s next?” Father Brennan asked.

  “Like I said last night, we’re off to Hattiesburg in a little while,” Jack replied. “I’ll check you into a motel there. I know this one is lacking, so I’ll go all out and find one with a kitchenette in the room. One of those extended-stay kinds of places. Get you a couple of days’ worth of food, some more clothes. Get you out of that priest outfit of yours, so you’re less noticeable.”

  “And what then?” Father Brennan asked. “Move me again? It has to stop some time, Jack. I can’t agree to staying hidden much longer.”

  “I know, Father,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t expect you to. I promise you I won’t let it go any longer than it has to. While I have you squirreled away I’ll be setting things up. Getting ready for them when they make their move. You just have to let me handle it my way.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, young man,” Father Brennan said. “I know you’re a hard man and won’t let them get the best of you. It’s just all this moving around, keeping me hidden and away from my duties.” He paused momentarily before adding, “I don’t like it, I’ll have you know.”

  “I didn’t think you would, Padre. I wouldn’t like it myself, if the shoe were on the other foot. But like it or not, I’m just planning to keep one step ahead of everybody until I’m ready for all of them.”

  “One might think you’re running scared, Jack. Not me, of course, but others might.”

  “That would be a mistake, Father. A big mistake. No, what I’m doing is merel
y mimicking the actions of the tiger that lives in the jungle.”

  “What are you talking about, Jack?”

  “Apparently you’ve never heard the ancient Chinese proverb, Father. ‘The tiger fights, then runs away. And lives to fight another day.’”

  “No, Jack, I haven’t heard that one. There’s one I know, not quite as ancient. Maybe you’ve heard it. It’s from the Bible. I hope they are not too familiar with it.”

  “What’s that, Father?”

  “‘Seek and ye shall find,’” the priest replied, grim-faced as he said it.

  “That’s a good one, Padre. But I don’t think we should worry too much,” Jack said reassuringly. “I don’t think anybody hired to take my place to come after you would be referred to as a Bible student. We just need to be careful and everything will be all right.”

  “So we’ll be checking out of this lovely motel,” Father Brennan said, “and we’ll drive north for a couple of hours, and check into another just like it?”

  “No, Father. We’ll upgrade. I told you, I’ll try to find an extended-stay hotel, one that has some amenities like a refrigerator and a coffee maker. Maybe even a small stove. All the comforts of home. I’ll make sure it has a Gideon’s Bible, and better stationery for you to write your notes on. I’ll keep you there until it’s not safe anymore. Then I’ll move you again.”

  “It sounds like I will definitely miss saying this Sunday’s Mass, doesn’t it, Jack?”

  “I’m afraid so, Padre. But if you’ll let me do this my way, I may have you back in front of your congregation at Sacred Heart the following week. You can use some of what’s happening to you right now in one of those sermons of yours. You’ll really have something to tell them, won’t you?”

  “Yes, I suppose I will,” Father Brennan said. “I’ll leave out the part about the younger brother’s confession, of course. Everything else—well, I guess that’s ‘fair game,’ as they say.” He paused, then said, “I still don’t like this. The fact that it’s going to take several more days. I don’t like knowing so many of my parishioners will be worried about me.”