The Priest

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The Priest Page 14

by Monica La Porta


  Guen slowly shook her head and said, “You’re pregnant.”

  “You must be kidding!” The President’s voice came from behind Guen. She and her wife stood a few feet from them, staring in horror at their daughter. “You can’t donate blood in your state! And… to a slave. Are you completely insane?” Darya stomped toward Rosie, but Rina took her arm.

  “Think of your baby.” Rina kept Darya from moving any farther.

  “I am,” Rosie muttered under her breath.

  Guen raised an eyebrow and gave Rosie a pointed look.

  “For Heavens’ sake, what are you talking about?” Darya freed herself from her wife’s hold.

  “What is she talking about?” Rina asked Guen.

  Bruna cried and compelled the Layans’ full attention once more.

  “Rosie, you should calm down.” Guen gently touched Rosie’s forearm and then bent her head to whisper, “I don’t think your mothers know anything about what you are saying, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk before all these other women.”

  Listen to her.

  “You know?” Rosie asked.

  “If I understood what you were trying to say, I know.” Guen looked behind her shoulders at the President, who was leaning over a motionless Bruna.

  “The incognito the Priestess used to make me conceive my baby—” Rosie was interrupted by Guen’s hand over her mouth.

  “Then, I know,” Guen whispered and took away her hand. “Maintain your calm now, and we’ll find a way to save the three of them.”

  “I’ll try—” Rosie looked down at Mauricio. Then she tilted her head toward Guen. “How did you manage to get away with helping me?” she asked, darting a glance beyond them where the other women were.

  “Nobody saw me, and when the electricity came back, I was back behind my desk at the control room. As soon as the distress call arrived, I volunteered to escort your mothers.”

  “Doctor’s here,” one of the guards called.

  “I’ll go talk to her,” Guen said, already walking to meet the doctor.

  Mauricio watched as Guen and the doctor were directed toward Bruna by Rina. Rosie stood up, ready to make a scene. “It’s okay,” he said, trying to raise his arm to touch her. There’s nothing else you can do for me.

  Rosie didn’t seem to hear him, her eyes looking at something shiny on the ground. “I need help! I’m bleeding,” she screamed and rolled down as if in pain.

  That woke Mauricio’s addled brain. “Rosie?” Before he could articulate something more, she was back at his side holding a dark, elongated shape in her hand.

  Guen and the doctor ran to see what was happening to her. The doctor promptly went to move Rosie away from Mauricio.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Rosie growled, aiming a rifle at the doctor. “Now, you’ll take a look at him.”

  The doctor looked at Rosie with a stupefied expression, but she didn’t say anything.

  “And, you’ll tell my mothers that everything is under control here.”

  “Rosie is fine, just a scratch. Keep applying pressure on Bruna’s wound,” the doctor yelled, stopping the Layans in their steps. “You can lower that rifle now, if you want me to check on this slave.”

  Rosie relaxed her grip on the weapon and pointed it at the ground. The doctor leaned toward Mauricio, looked at him, and touched his chest. When he didn’t react to the probing, she shook her head.

  Is bad this time, isn’t it?

  “What is it?” Rosie asked.

  “There isn’t time to go back to the infirmary.” The doctor raised her eyes to look at Guen.

  I guessed so myself.

  “Okay, let’s do what we can here.” Guen stood up and called one of the guards.

  It’s colder all of a sudden.

  “He’s shivering a lot,” Rosie said.

  Mauricio felt her hands protectively resting on his shoulders, and he smiled. Leave us alone for a moment.

  “I need help clearing a space where I can clean the slave’s wound and remove the bullet. I am not sure if it will be enough,” the doctor said.

  “She’ll help me clear the space.” Guen pointed at the guard, “And, you, go with the doctor, see if she needs anything else,” she added, looking at Rosie.

  “I am not leaving him.”

  Please, stay. I need to tell you something…

  “Would you rather dig a grave for him? Every hand is needed, and we don’t have a nurse,” Guen said, and the doctor nodded.

  “I’ll be right back,” she answered.

  Without Rosie holding him, Mauricio felt colder while the pain made him shiver and sweat. He closed his eyes and hoped to faint, but remained awake. A few feet from him, out of earshot from the other women, the President and the colonel were having an animated discussion. When Guen directed the guard toward them, the two women moved closer to Mauricio.

  Don’t mind me.

  “Madame President, it seems that your daughter is in possession of information that is potentially dangerous for the Ginecean society,” the colonel said. “I don’t know exactly what it is that scared your publicist, but she was ready to kill all of us to keep it a secret. This slave took the bullet meant for your daughter. Although his life is expendable, it seems that your daughter has formed a bond of some sort with him. And I am worried about two things…”

  “Which are?”

  That she’s a decent human being for starters?

  “The first is that we don’t know exactly what secret Rosie is keeping, and she was adamant about using that knowledge to save these men. The second is that the guards have seen the way Rosie interacted with this slave, and I can’t guarantee that they will keep their mouths shut. Perversion is the most horrible brand. Even if she doesn’t say what she knows, she has already proclaimed that she wants to leave with these men. Your family, and your career, will be ruined by the scandal.” The colonel spoke slowly.

  Oh, that would be too bad, I suppose.

  “And being so… what do you suggest?” Darya asked.

  “I suggest letting the doctor save the slave–” the colonel started.

  I like that. Mauricio’s hopes were kindled for the briefest of moments.

  “I won’t listen to this. Even if he did save my daughter!” the President exclaimed.

  “He did—”

  “He is just another worthless slave, for Heavens’ sake.”

  “I agree with you…”

  “But?”

  “But, if the slave dies, and your daughter thinks that we haven’t tried everything possible, who knows how she would react. She seems… well… deranged, with all due respect.” The colonel made an apologetic expression and raised her hands.

  “You have my permission to talk.”

  “Tell your daughter you’ll let the doctor save the slave, with the conditions that she won’t follow him anywhere, and that she’ll tell you what she knows in private,” the colonel finished.

  “Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to help me?”

  “Because it’s my job, and I voted for you,” the colonel answered.

  “I have never thought that one day I would have to confront something… like this.” The President of Ginecea turned her face slightly toward Mauricio, and he saw the anger in her face.

  “She’ll be fine when the baby is born. Marry her off right away,” the colonel said, looking at Rosie coming back with the doctor. Guen followed a second later, accompanied by two guards.

  No! He was dying, but the idea of her married to someone else was too painful to bear.

  “Bring him here,” Guen commanded the guards.

  Careful, it hurts! Mauricio hated the cruel hands that hauled him onto the blanket spread over the cleared patch. Rosie was immediately by his side, and she kept touching him while the doctor cut his shirt down the front. He was in tremendous pain, and his body was going into shock. He heard Rosie crying.

  “I’m sorry for everything,” he said to her. You deserve
d so much better.

  “I’m not going to lose you! Do you hear me?” Rosie said.

  “Mistress, if you don’t calm down, I’ll have to give you a sedative, and I’d rather avoid that,” the doctor said.

  “Is he going to make it?” Rosie asked, gently cushioning his head on her belly.

  Mauricio thought he could hear a softer set of heartbeats. A sentiment akin to pure joy invaded him. “Can you feel that?” he asked, or he thought had asked.

  “It’s worse than I thought; I can’t see where the bullet is lodged,” the doctor answered.

  “Is he going to make it?” Rosie repeated, her voice louder.

  “Only if he can make it back to Tarin.”

  “We must go, then.” Rosie’s tears were washing Mauricio’s face.

  Don’t cry. “It’s okay.” Everybody was talking at the same time, and his voice wasn’t strong enough to cut through the noise.

  The doctor shook her head. “He needs blood, now.”

  “I’ll give him my blood,” Rosie announced, and the President swore.

  “Is anybody else a universal donor?” Darya’s voice carried toward the rest of the group. The guards were waiting for orders and had spontaneously moved to stand together. They heard the questions, but shook their heads or answered with murmured no’s. “Of course.”

  Of course, he thought at the same time as the President.

  “I won’t let him die. I can save him, and you won’t stop me.” Rosie cradled Mauricio in her lap, while directing the rifle against the rest of the women.

  A collective gasp was followed by a long moment of silence.

  “Come here, now!” the President called her daughter.

  “You won’t change my mind, and I'm not a minor. I will use all I know against you, if necessary,” Rosie said, leaning over Mauricio’s body. “I’m not leaving him alone again.”

  You should think about that… I don’t think I’ve got much longer.

  Mauricio saw the look in the President’s eyes and feared the worst for Rosie. He tried to talk, but couldn’t move his lips.

  After another long pause, the President slowly walked toward her daughter and said, “I’m willing to consider saving this slave’s life if you accept my proposition.” The woman was now crouched beside Rosie, a few inches from his face, and Mauricio saw the cruel light in her eyes. He shivered again.

  “I’m listening,” Rosie said.

  Don’t. I won’t survive the night, anyway. Mauricio moaned.

  “If you donate your blood, you could lose your baby. It's too dangerous; I won’t permit it.” Darya let the statement sink in.

  I won’t permit that, either. He found it darkly amusing that he had agreed with the woman several times already.

  “This is your idea of a proposition?”

  “Let’s go back to Tarin, where the doctor can find some blood for this slave.”

  “You’re wasting time he doesn’t have.” Rosie moved the rifle in a circular motion, making several guards jump away. “Doctor, what are you waiting for?”

  “Bruna is a universal donor,” Guen said, emerging from the shadows. “It says so on this medallion.” She showed it to the President, who took it from her hands and stormed away.

  Mauricio saw Darya Layan and her wife talk to the colonel, while Rosie kept caressing him. He was slipping in and out of consciousness and couldn’t feel much anymore. His eyes were too heavy, and he closed them for a moment.

  He was startled by the sound of animated conversation. There was something wrong; Rosie’s hands weren’t on him, spreading her warmth over his frozen body. Where are you? At some point she must have left. In the peaceful quiet of the darkness, he heard her cry, but couldn’t see where she was.

  “But I’m not coming back with you. I want to live my life with him.” She was talking to someone.

  Oh, Rosie… I would’ve loved that. You, me, and our baby girl.

  “I’m afraid that is not negotiable. It’s either black or white. You decide,” Darya said.

  “You can’t do this to me,” Rosie was sobbing.

  Don’t cry for me; it doesn’t matter. It’ so peaceful now… I love you.

  “I can. You’re pregnant, and since you aren’t married, I have jurisdiction over your health in case you are incapacitated. And as of this moment, you are.” This time Rina spoke.

  “Mom, please…”

  “I told you; I’ll let the slave have a transfusion from Bruna, only if you promise that this madness ends now.”

  What— Mauricio wasn’t sure about anything anymore, and the voices were fading into a barely coherent mumble.

  “One day, you’ll thank us.”

  “We’re losing the slave,” the doctor announced.

  “You can save him, Rosie,” Darya pressed her point.

  “Any moment now.”

  “I’ll stay with you,” Rosie capitulated.

  Chapter 12

  Mauricio looked at the sun lowering toward the horizon and then rearranged the new stone sculpture he had been creating for the last six months. The structure had grown in height more than in width and now resembled a willowy ghost of an idea Mauricio once had. He added a grey pebble and removed two white rocks. He looked at his creation and was satisfied by what he saw.

  “Is that all for today, Priest?” a young boy named Lucas asked him.

  “Yes, I guess so.” He had been working on the stone sculptures for a while now and the landscape ahead of him was dotted with dozens of them.

  “They are pretty,” Lucas said. He had started his own small masterpiece and was now comparing his work to the Priest’s.

  “Yours is beautiful, too.” Mauricio gazed at the boy’s pile of pebbles.

  “Does it have a soul, yet?” Lucas asked, worried.

  “When you thought of it, you put the soul inside your sculpture.” Mauricio patted the boy’s head in affection. “Let’s go to the Caves. Your mom and dad will be worried by the time we get there.” Mauricio stood up and started walking. Lucas trotted graciously behind him. The boy was curious about the Priest’s life and normally asked lots of questions, but today he was less chatty than usual.

  “You are very pensive. Is there anything bothering you?” Mauricio asked when he couldn’t stand the silence anymore. He loved kids because they coaxed him to talk.

  “I have been thinking about you,” Lucas started and then paused, slightly embarrassed.

  “Have you now?”

  “Yes, you’re always alone, and I worry about you,” Lucas finished all in one breath.

  “I have lots of friends,” Mauricio answered.

  “Yes, it’s true, but you live alone. Nobody keeps you company when you’re in your house,” Lucas countered.

  “You know why I’m called the Priest?” Mauricio had this conversation at least once a year. It never failed to please him how kids could be so affectionate and spontaneous. And they had the naïve impudence to ask the questions adults whispered behind his back.

  “You told me, but it doesn’t make any sense. Why do you want to be alone?” Lucas was looking at him as if he had sprouted another set of eyes. Lucas’ life was surrounded by people who loved him and cared for him.

  “I’m waiting for someone.” Mauricio smiled at his own words. Ten years later and still he came out every morning to gaze at the desert to see if Rosie was coming.

  “Yeah, right,” Lucas snorted and then turned an even redder shade than before. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you…”

  “No offense taken. You’re a good boy.” Mauricio put a hand on his shoulder and applied the slightest pressure to reassure the boy he wasn’t mad at him.

  “What if your companion never comes?” Lucas didn’t want to let it go now that he’d had the courage to broach the subject.

  “Then I’ll have my memories to keep me company.” Mauricio smiled again.

  He could still see her, ten years later. Rosie smiling at him and promising that she was going t
o reach for him as soon as she had the baby. Their precious little girl. One of the last things Rosie said to him was, “I will name our baby after you.” As she reached through the bars to brush his fingers.

  Rosie had managed to save his life, but there were consequences to pay. As soon as his health improved, he was transferred to the maximum-security wing. He spent his days anchored to the wall with a short chain that got even shorter when his guard caught Rosie holding his outstretched hands. Afterwards, any time she came to visit him, the guard locked his collar to a hook on the wall so that he couldn’t move at all. Brushing fingertips became the only physical contact allowed them and the strain on his muscles was unbearable after several minutes of keeping the stance, yet he never uttered a word about it. He never got to see Rosie’s belly grow, and he never discovered how she managed to free him in the end. Ten years were long enough for him to conjure a few theories, but he never knew for sure what happened. Guen accompanied Rosie the time she shared her plans for the baby’s name. He hadn’t seen the woman since that fateful night. He was happy to see her and even more so when she entered his cell and unlocked him.

  “You have a whole hour. Make it count,” Guen said with a wistful tone. Without another word, she deactivated his collar and left.

  Rosie was beautiful that day, but she was also sad. Mauricio had looked at her in devotion from his cell, uncertain of what he was allowed to do. She walked inside and said, “Let’s go for a stroll. The night is beautiful outside.”

  He followed Rosie, his fingers brushing hers, looking at her profile as if it were the first time he had laid eyes on her. She smiled every time their sideways glances met, but kept walking in complete silence. He didn’t ask how this opportunity was even possible. He didn’t want to waste the little time they had been given. He was absolutely mesmerized by the fact that they were walking together and that he could freely touch her hand. Rosie led the way outside. They didn’t meet any guards and the door to the fields was already open. The cold air chilled his skin and made him shiver, but he was used to pain, and her presence was the only salve he needed for his mangled body. He was skin and bones, and his muscles weren’t working properly, so he staggered several times on the uneven ground. But Rosie was there to help him, and he didn’t fall. They walked past the cafeteria and stopped at a bench he hadn’t noticed before.

 

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