Pie Town

by Lynne Hinton

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Father George was restless and thought about going to bed early. He had given Mass and greeted the group as they gathered in the education classroom, the women making prayer shawls, before changing out of his robe and going back to the rectory. He had eaten the dinner prepared for him by the women of the church, pork enchiladas with rice and beans, a dish that he had not expected to enjoy since he preferred a blander diet but had discovered he had actually come to favor, and after making a few phone calls, he had started looking ahead at the next week’s sermon text.

  It was a gospel story, a healing miracle performed by Jesus. George had studied it in his New Testament class in seminary. In the story Jesus is approached by a Gentile, a Syrophoenician woman who wants healing for her daughter. Jesus explains that he is there for the Jewish people, quotes to her a Jewish proverb that says something like food should not be taken from children and given to the dogs. And then this woman, this nonperson who shouldn’t even be speaking to a Jewish man, responds that even the dogs get crumbs from the table. And then, just like that, Jesus heals the woman’s child. He breaks rules and traditions and gives his gift of healing, a miracle, to a Gentile.

  George had never liked the story, was never comfortable with the action of Jesus or the interpretation of the story by scholars.

  He got up from his desk and decided to make a pot of tea. He hoped that the chamomile that he bought at the grocery store on his last outing would calm him, soothe his mind. He turned on the faucet, filled up the kettle, and placed it on the stove, waiting for it to heat.

  George had never understood the harsh words of Jesus to the woman and he also never understood the way it appeared as if Jesus changed his mind and met her request. He knew that some scholars claimed that Jesus said the proverb just to show his disciples their prejudice and how wrong they were to exclude others. “It was a teaching moment,” his professor had said. But then one of the students, an older boy who eventually dropped out of seminary, raised his hand and asked the questions that had shocked everyone in the class: “What if she changed his mind? What if Jesus had a conversion experience because of what this woman said?”

  At the time George thought the student was crazy, heretical, and, like everyone else, had not been surprised when months later he had left school. But the questions he had asked stayed with George. They practically haunted him. He wondered: was it possible that the Son of God could have a conversion experience? Could it be that Jesus had started out thinking one way about Gentiles and women, the way all Jewish men thought about them in the first century, and then suddenly changed his thinking?

  He poured a cup of tea and shook the memories and thoughts from his mind. It was more than he wanted to think about that week. He would simply preach on the Old Testament text and just not deal with the gospel story. And with that decision he dismissed the other thoughts he was having and recalled instead the events of the day.

  Most of that Thursday he had been out of the parish and rectory making pastoral visits. He’d gone to Carebridge and conducted Mass for the few Catholic patients who could attend and made visits to the rooms, offering Communion to those who could not. He had visited Fedora Snow because she wanted to talk about the upcoming fall services, the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary’s Feast Day held in early September, only a few weeks away, the St. Francis Day Blessing of the Animals scheduled for October, and the Pie Town community dinner that was always held in November.

  She had asked for the visit because there were things she needed the priest to know, things like Millie Watson should not be in charge of the Feast Day meal because she always made her stew too spicy and never had enough desserts. Fedora wanted Father George to ask someone else to be in charge of that event, and she also wanted him to know that she didn’t think the animals should be on the front lawn of Holy Family Church for St. Francis Day. The November community dinner, she explained, needed only publicity and no discussion since she had been in charge of that gathering for years and saw no need for any change. The woman had droned on for over an hour, and by the end of the visit Father George, feeling bored and in need of a break, had decided to stop by the diner for lunch and to catch his breath after he left Fedora’s house.

  After hearing from Bea that Roger and Malene had brought Alex home from the hospital earlier in the week, he decided he would drop by Malene’s house after he stopped to see Frank at the garage to give him a Bible and rosary beads for Raymond, his son, who was in boot camp. He thought about that encounter too, his first with the owner of the garage, a Navajo, the son of an active member of Holy Family.

  Frank had been polite but not thrilled to see the priest or to receive the gifts for his son. George explained that Frank’s mother had asked him to bring Raymond the Bible and rosary beads, and Frank had made a kind of huffing noise at that. “Mama still thinks she can make Catholics out of us,” he said, and Father George felt his face flush. He dropped his hands at his sides, still clutching the small Bible and the long wooden beads. And then Frank studied the priest and asked, “What is it with your kind? Why does everyone need to believe as you believe? Is God so small that there is only one way to name Him? Only one way to get His attention?”

  George had tried to explain that Catholics and all Christians believe that it is only through God’s son that one can find salvation and have eternal life. Frank just shook his head, leaning back under the hood to work on the engine of the car in the garage bay. “And your God only had one son, not many children? Why would the Creator of all worlds and all heavens create only one son?” George didn’t answer. “And this need for salvation?” Frank asked. “Are we being saved from ourselves or from this God who is described as not just a God of love but also vengeance?”

  The questions had rattled George. In the end, he had not given answers, only stood looking embarrassed while the man opened valves and flushed a radiator. Frank stood up and wiped his hands on the rag hanging from his back pocket. He reached out to receive the Bible and beads. “I’ll give them to Raymond,” he said to the priest, and George handed them over. “But your Church and your God have brought only sorrow to my people. Our only need for salvation is to be delivered from the likes of you and your predecessors.”

  Father George had left that encounter to go over to Malene’s to see Alex. And that visit had been just as unsettling. The boy was weak and had lost quite a lot of weight while being hospitalized, but he was alert and engaging, and when he realized that Father George was standing at the door with his grandmother, he made it clear that he wanted to talk to the priest alone. Malene had raised her eyebrows in suspicion at the request but granted Alex his wish. She backed out and shut the door as George stood just inside the room.

  George now sat at his desk, recalling his last conversation of the afternoon, the one with Alex.

  “How are you, Father?” the boy had asked, motioning the priest to come closer, to sit in the chair by the bed.

  “I’m great,” George replied, trying not to show signs of his fatigue. “But the question is, how are you?”

  Alex smiled. “I’m home,” he answered. “And that’s all that matters.”

  Father George had felt uncomfortable in the boy’s room, sitting by his bed. His early visits at Carebridge and then his talks with Fedora and Frank had made him realize that personal conversations with parishioners and visits to the sick, whether in hospitals or homes or nursing centers, exhausted him. It had become the least favorite part of his job. The preaching and consecrating of the elements, the study and personal time of prayer and reflection, those ministerial tasks were his forte. He realized he should have received more training, more experience, in the pastoral care aspect of his ministry.

  “Thank you for visiting me at the hospital that day after I first got there,” Alex had said. “And for bringing Trina.”

  Father George nodded. He had not wanted to think about that day. He had not spoken to the young woman since she got out of his car
on Highway 60 and he drove away. He had seen her through the diner windows on occasion, passed her once on Main Street, but they had not talked since the argument.

  “I was glad to see you both,” Alex commented.

  Father George nodded. He had no reply.

  “She’s not what you think,” Alex said, his voice small and weak.

  “What do you mean?” George asked, not understanding what the boy was saying.

  “She’s not bad or anything,” Alex replied.

  Father George didn’t know how to respond. He dropped his face. He wondered why Alex would say such a thing to him, and he worried that his discontented feelings about the other new resident of Pie Town had become too transparent. He was going to explain, but then, perhaps because of his fatigue and the day’s other conversations, he thought better of it.

  “She’s lost is all,” Alex added. “But things will be right soon.”

  Father George looked back up at the boy and decided that Alex was not fully himself, that he was speaking from weakness, and maybe from medication. The priest nodded and smiled. “Yes, I think things will be right for both of you.”

  “And you,” the boy said, focusing his eyes on the priest. “Things will finally be right for you too.”

  Father George had been about to ask Alex what he meant, but Oris came in just at that moment, interrupting the conversation. Oris pushed past the priest and knelt by the bed, pulling his great-grandson into his arms. George noticed the tears in the old man’s eyes, understood the intimacy of the moment, and decided to make a quiet exit. He left without saying good-bye.

  He sat at his desk and remembered the conversations of the day with Fedora and Frank and finally Alex. He remembered that he had been struck dumb by Frank’s arguments against the Church, that he had felt lifeless after hearing Fedora’s complaints and instructions, and that he had been confused by Alex’s words. He had driven back to the rectory trying to make sense of what the three conversations had meant, and especially what Alex had said.

  “What would finally be right with myself?” George asked. “What is so wrong that would be made right?” But before he could answer, he saw the lights coming up the road, a vehicle pulling into the church parking lot, and recognized right away the make and style of the small pickup truck.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Rob Chavez had finished the first football practice of the season and needed more action. He was fired up, excited about the team workout, and thrilled that the school year was about to start. This was his year, he had told himself. This year, his senior year, was going to be the best yet. He had all the plays down solid. He was more accurate with his passing and faster when he ran. He was confident, and he was revved up after the early practice.

  After most of the other players were gone, the coach had called Rob into his office and told him that the University of New Mexico recruiter had called him over the summer and that he planned to drive up to meet Rob, watch him play a game. The coach seemed confident that this could mean a scholarship for his star quarterback, and if that didn’t work out, he was pretty sure that Rob could get a complete ride at New Mexico State if he wanted it. The young player’s statistics were impressive on the high school level, and he had broken a number of records during his last season. Healthy, stronger, heavier, Rob was certain that this football season would be the year he dominated and the year when he would be given a scholarship and a chance to get out of his hick hometown. It had been a great evening.

  He was still dating Katie White, had been all summer, even when there had been a couple of times he messed around with the new girl in town. He and Katie broke up for a week or so after she found out he was seeing somebody else, but they were back together, and he was pretty sure she hadn’t figured out who the somebody else was. He was pretty sure no one knew about him and Trina.

  Trina had gone pretty far with Rob in their few short get-togethers. There had been oral sex and a lot of heavy petting. He had stayed over at her apartment a couple of nights. She had declined intercourse, claiming she didn’t want the experience with a virgin, nor did she want the reputation that would surely follow. She had taught him a few things, but finally cut things off when she thought Katie had figured out who she was and told him not to come over to her apartment anymore. He needed to focus on one relationship at a time, she told him, and she didn’t want to be responsible for breaking another girl’s heart.

  Rob really put the pressure on Katie after that, and she continued to be resistant, but he was sure, with a little more pressure, and especially with football season starting and the return of his all-star status at school, he would get what he wanted from her. He was certain of it, and he was starting to feel like maybe this was the night.

  There had been no plans to get together that week, especially not on a Thursday night, because of his practice and her volunteer work at the nursing home, but he needed to see her. He wanted to tell her about what the coach had said about a scholarship to UNM, and he wanted to move things along. He was tired of waiting. He wanted to have sex.

  He drove past her house, slowing down and almost turning in before he noticed the squad car in the driveway. He sped up and passed the house, preferring not to visit when her brother was at home. Danny had made it clear to Rob the last time he saw him that he had a vested interest in Katie’s well-being and that if Rob hurt his little sister in any way, there would be punishment served. Rob understood and did not want to press it with the lawman. Rob’s brother had been arrested by Danny for possession of marijuana a couple of years earlier, and his brother happened to mention that Danny had a mean streak. Rob didn’t want to see it. He hurried past the house and then turned back toward town.

  Rob was about to go home, just forget about seeing Katie, when he saw Trina walking up the street. It surprised him to see her at such a late hour, and he wondered if she was going home from a date or heading out for one. He wondered if this could be his golden opportunity, if not with Katie, then at least with her. He slowed down as he neared her, rolling down the window on the passenger side so they could talk.

  “Hey, beautiful,” he said, grinning. “I was just thinking about you,” he lied.

  “Hi, Rob,” she said, without looking in his direction. She kept walking.

  “So, why’s a hot girl like you walking by herself alone at night?” He put the car in reverse and drove very slowly, staying beside her.

  “You need to keep moving, Rob,” she said. “In the right direction.”

  “Come on, hop in.” He kept trying.

  “I’m fine,” she countered.

  “Don’t you want a lift?” He remembered the first time she had gotten in his truck, and he could feel himself getting excited.

  Trina kept walking. This was one time she wasn’t interested in dealing with testosterone. She didn’t reply.

  Rob stayed right beside her. “What? You won’t even speak to me?” he asked, trying to sound hurt. “I did what you asked. I’ve stayed away.”

  Trina cast a glance in his direction. “Thank you,” she responded. “Now why don’t you run over to your girlfriend’s house and try to get into her pants?”

  “Oh, come on, Trina, give a guy a break. Just get in. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. I won’t ask nothing from you. I just feel like giving a friend a lift.” He eyed his rearview mirror, making sure no other traffic was coming his way. “We are still friends, aren’t we?” He grinned.

  “I thought I made it clear about us,” she said.

  “Perfectly clear,” he noted. “I’m not ready to go home. I’m jacked up after football practice, and nobody is out, and it’s a beautiful night to ride around. Just let me drive you where you’re going.”

  Trina stopped, knowing it was a bad idea, but decided she would rather ride than walk.

  “Rob’s limousine at your service,” he said.

  “Oh, all right,” she responded, opening the door and jumping in. “But I’m not messing around with you. I
’m tired,” she said.

  “No messing around,” Rob said with a wink and put the car in drive and cut a U-turn. He drove right past Danny as the deputy was stopped at the corner without seeing him. He was way too excited about having Trina sitting next to him.

  “Where shall it be?” Rob asked. “You want to drive up to the ridge or over to the cemetery or just ride around?”

  “I was on my way to the church,” she said.

  “Even better,” Rob said. He made the turn to head up in the direction of the Holy Family Catholic Church.

  “I’m not going there for that again,” Trina said, referring to the previous times they had been in the sanctuary together. “I’m going to talk to Father George,” she explained.

  “Why on earth do you want to talk to him?” Rob asked, having forgotten that the new priest was living in the rectory and didn’t go to sleep as early as Father Joseph. He drove quickly.

  “I don’t know. I just think he might be able to help,” she said.

  “Why don’t you give me a shot?” Rob asked, reaching over and touching Trina on the leg. “I think I can help you a lot better than he can.” He slid his hand up her thigh while he headed up the road to the church.

  Trina sighed, taking his hand and throwing it back in his lap. “Are you going to take me there or not?” she asked.

  “Baby, we can skip church and I can take you to heaven if you’d just let me,” he replied, this time reaching up to grab her breast.

  Trina yanked away his hand. “Rob, I am so not interested in this,” she said.

  “Oh, come on, baby.” He reached over and pulled her hard, dragging her closer to him. They had gotten to the church, and he was heading into the parking lot. “Let’s just have a little fun for old times’ sake.”

  Trina, now practically sitting in the driver’s seat, slammed her foot down on the brake, throwing them both forward and jamming Rob’s face into the steering wheel.