Sex and the Confession Box

by M. H. O'Hara

  Eileen’s Story.

  Pushing the heavy old wooden door the kind you have to put your shoulder against I stepped into a familiar place though not one I’d been to for quite some time. The smell was the same, it smelt like a mixture of childhood and home and school all in one. All mixed up with rules and confusion and discipline but mainly safe. The door closed behind me with that long haul bang. I breathed a sigh of relief, I was in a sanctuary of safety the door closed against the ugly world, closed against the sin the pain ME! It was empty not a sinner, except me! I dipped my hand into the cold familiar water, I did so slowly half expecting it to ooze steam and make the noise you see in the horror moves when Satan puts his fingers in but no it was just cold and wet. I brought my two right fingers to my forehead “In the name of the father and the sun and the holy ghost.AMEN.I began to walk and the click clack of my heels made that god awful sound I tried to tiptoe as you do but still I literally sounded like a whore in church and I was. I felt all the statues turn to stare and gaze with disgust at me their cold eyes burning into my now dirty impure soul. I could swear our lady really did start to cry as I walked further inside this my once heaven. I wanted Jesus to jump down from the cross and shout at the other statues cast yeah the first stone if you not be a sinner. But they were not sinners I was. I couldn’t even walk straight pass the altar I skipped into the pews and all the time those eyes of judgement where there how dare she enter here that whore of Babylon. I was about to run out when the light in the confessional box turned on a warm glow of red welcoming the sinners. I pulled at the door and inside was the familiar wee crimson step with a shelf just feet above to place my crossed hands onto when I confessed my dirty deeds. I gulped as I stepped inside not sure if the floor would indeed swallow me up to the gate of hell. I knelt in my black laced stockings handbag by my feet and the hatch door slid gently across revealing a mesh divide kind of like chicken wire, which when you think about it is it’s kind of fitting we still need some coverage to hide our sins from the priest, the father, ourselves. The priest in his accent, a mix of Belfast or Kerry or both it was hard to tell He began with in the name of the father and the sun and of the Holy Ghost. I couldn’t really make out his face he had his left hand up to his face as though resting on it but not making contact with the eyes they all know us sinners don’t really like that, it seems to burn. Bless me father for I have sinned it’s been a very long time since my last confessional and I, m having trouble remembering what to do. That’s OK my child your here just tell me what’s on your mind. I felt like saying well Father its more what’s been on me over and over but I didn’t. I choked I began to feel that sickness, shame, tears swelled in my eyes and I just began to sob. Now, now he said my child it can’t be all that bad, oh father it is I’m disgusting if God knew I was here he would have you as his bouncer and chuck me out. Nonsense God forgives all sins, and you can be sure I have heard it all. I hate myself and what I have done I can’t look my family or my son in the face I’m nothing a disease, I’m disgusting .Then it just poured out the sobbing the pure gut retching sobbing I didn’t even notice the priest get up from his chair until a light beamed onto me as he opened the door to find me a mess slobbering all over the holy shelf. He didn’t say a thing just reached in and lifted me I offered no resistance, couldn’t wasn’t even fully there in so many ways.

  He took me into the parish house gently guiding me into a chair in a wee cosy kitchen part of the parish house. He went about making what I assumed was tea when he placed a crystal glass of brown liquid in front of me, It was whiskey the smell whiffed up my noise, knock that into you he said, never mind all that stuff about a cup of tea you need a drop of the good stuff! He sat across me and I saw he had his own glass of the good stuff, I said to him is that to prepare you for what I have to tell aye! No indeed not you can’t drink alone, bad manners, bad news, and it’s my teatime! He said winking. Bottoms up then as I knocked it into me. I don’t like whiskey but I needed it then. Wow what a burn as I began to cough a little another he said? No thank you Father, now, now it’s Peter, father Peter if you prefer. Thank you Father I think I’d throw up if I had another I’m a wine drinker really, Aye my self’s the same but drinking it all the time at the service, mass you know you get a bit bored of the stuff and you need something that the old taste buds can really get to grips with. So what might I be calling you or would you prefer to remain a woman of mystery? Eileen, Eileen well hello there Eileen he said as he extended his right hand, Hello Father Peter,now I’m not what you’d call a clever man hence why I joined the priest hood but I sense you have a lot on your mind would I be right in saying that? Nothing gets past you father, it’s just so hard to talk about it .Aye but its eating you up inside, and you such a beautiful young woman what could be causing you such pain. And please God if it’s a man, I’ll kill him myself for ya for you’re a beautiful thing. He declared as he raised his hand to God in an act as though on stage, messing of course to lighten the load! Hell no I wouldn’t let a man drive me to this if anything he’d be running in here looking for sanctuary. We both laughed, there it is the smile of an angel he said looking at me. I put my head down suddenly remembering my shame and my inner most pain. I darted my eyes to the door, thinking of fleeing, I looked up at him and looked really looked for the first time, Jesus he wasn’t old maybe thirty five, thirty seven at most Handsome with a softness, a rough softness, nice olive skin with tiny signs of teenage acne but it suited him, an oval shaped face with lovely beautiful grey eyes with flecks of gold, his hair jet black almost with a blue colour and unshaven but not hung-over unshaven, kind of like when your Da comes home from work with that bristle that he’d rub of your face when he lifted you up to hug you as you ran to greet him at dinner time. He was tall I’d say 6 feet one but then most men seemed so tall to me as I was five foot five and a wee bit! I felt myself get a twinkle of light in my gut, butterflies. I thought oh my god you whore here you are with a man of God and you’re having impure thoughts your damned to hell for sure. As though he was reading my mind he said would you prefer it if we went back into the old box and continued or maybe leave it for another day. I smiled, I do need to tell you but it’s just so hard, and I don’t know if I could take the judgement. Listen I will tell you a story to give you an idea of the things I have heard.

  Ok I nodded, he poured himself another and me to but added a wee drop of white lemonade to it. I’ve been a priest fifteen years and was working here on the confessional about a week ago, it was one of those days when the sin was in everyone and everyone in sin. I’d been in that bloody box for well at least two hours when I had a wee peek out and there was just one feller left thank the saints I thought well not really but I can’t say what I really did with a lady present an all. I bowed my head. I heard him come into the box and I give him a few minutes to get comfy as you do then I slid back the wee slot and there looking right at me was my own life. What? I asked, he was pointing a gun straight in at my head, big old gun but real and deadly none the less. Holy fuck what did you do, oops sorry! Are you joking me that’s what I was thinking to? Well I looked at the gun and at the man’s face which he didn’t try to hide which is when I knew for sure I was a dead man as a dead man can’t identify anybody now can they? But I looked up at him, you know really looked, and all I saw was fear, he was more afraid than myself, so I said to him” I don’t blame you, you know on a good day I want to kill myself, the man looked at me with amazement, what the fuck do you mean you want to kill yourself aren’t your kind against suicide burn in hell and all. Well sometimes you just feel there’s no way out of this fucking life. I have no choice, said the man in his late twenties with red spiky hair and bleak blue eyes nice skin, I knew he wasn’t there out of choice you know with this shit hole of a war with Britain all sorts of wee young lads are drawn in and I knew he was one who didn’t have the stomach for it but it was me or him. What’s your name son? why do you want to know that for ,well why not say a wee prayer to the big man when I’m u
p there for ya. You’d pray for me after I killed ya? Of course I would forgiveness an all. Well fuck you and your fuck forgiveness I don’t need it, I don’t want it.Thats when his eyes filled up and he wiped them on his dirty faded denim jacket, I’m as lost as you father. Peter what? Peter that’s my name well I’m not telling ya mine, that’s all right. How can I help ya? By stopping talking so I can think. Theres no way out you no they told me I had to kill a priest to kill you show them I was really in, if I run they’ll find me and do you know what they’ll do to me? My family? I can guess. I could help you get away, what do you mean you can help me? Didn’t you hear me Peter I’m here to kill you and I have no choice there is no escape.I,ve helped lads on both sides of the fence to get away to me your no different. You’d help me a prod who’s shoved a gun in your face. Aye surely would, then I get to choose when I die no offense but I don’t want to die in this dress. The guy laughed you’re not right in the head Peter. And that’s when I knew I wasn’t going to die when he used my name ,Father Peter said turning to me. OK! So what happened to him I asked? I myself can’t tell you anymore swore you know and besides I’m not drunk enough he laughed, come on you got to tell me what happened. You tell me what brought you here and you have a deal? Blackmail! My God, father soon it’ll be me who’ll have to be listening to your sins. I said as I smiled up at him and then I realised what a frigging sight I must have been all this time after my convulsion of crying in the confession box.

  My face must be a complete mess. Father could I use your bathroom please, oh yes of course, he guided me to a wee room to the side of the kitchen into a lovely neat bathroom with a shower and sink that smelt of him God he smelt good I had a wee noisy round but couldn’t see any aftershave, then a look in the bathroom mirror made me gasp, oh! Shit, oh! No I haven’t been sitting like that the whole time. Pure black panda eyes and big streaks of black running down my cheeks I looked like a mix of a zebra crossing and a panda run over. I wiped of the crap under my eyes and with wipes I kept in my bag I patter my cheeks then applied powder and redid half my face I didn’t put lippy on to obvious and it felt rough to flirty or sexy and I was feeling none of that. Out I came and he had the kettle on .Tea and whisky, he said the eight o clock mass will be on in an hour or so have to sound all sober. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were and alcoholic father, no not close that takes real work and dedication and of course I’m joking one thing I have learned in this job you have to do what makes people comfortable, be a human being I’m not the almighty and I don’t prattle on like it otherwise I couldn’t reach anyone. Know Eileen will you join me for that brew, OK just black no milk or anything. Right so he said. As he poured the boiling water into the teapot I blurted out I’m a whore father, I should have picked a better perhaps safer time as he spilt half of the boiling water over the counter and his hand, oh God I’m so sorry he was all flustered as he run his hand under the cold water tap I wrapper the tea cloth around it and patted it and we both just stood there me holding his hand under the tea cloth and him holding mine on top I felt it my heartbeat in his hands and I didn’t want to look up into his eyes I wanted to stay in that moment ,everything had stopped as if all the beings in the universe where holding their breath, love had found love this is what it’s all about, BUZZ. BUZZ.I jumped as did he, what’s that? Someone at the parish house door. OH! Should I leave? No he said almost shouting almost begging, stay IL not be a minute. He pulled the door behind him and went out into the long hallway to the front porch. I looked around and my head began to spin, what I am doing, what I am expecting, I’m tricking a man of god, a man of the cloth into my web of sin. Holy fuck I’m disgusting. I grabbed at my bags and ran out into the chapel down past the altar not daring to look back he might be coming trying to save me and I was damming him to hell. I could swear all the holy statues spat at me and even hissed get out, and I did and I ran and ran...

  Eileen’ Story.

  Doreen opened the door HI! John how are you ?Great thanks, how are you Doreen .She put out her hand and guided him to the bedroom where all the dog dirty deeds take place .Well you’re looking for the ultimate fantasy then John, yeah always wanted it, most men only dream of it said Doreen cosying up on the kingsize bed beside him stroking his leg so have you got the money honey for your dream come true I have aye but I want to see what I’m getting for my money you could bring in any one thing and I want I know what they look like? OK honey we’d never rip you off, I’m not saying you would it’s just I’ve heard stories. Wait one moment and I will get the girls who are about to rock your world. She closed the door behind sighing deeply and rolling her eyes she gently came down the stairs, he wants a look see, Ah! What a prick, bet he’s not a real one. Well what can we do he’s £400 for an hour he’s not parting without till he’s sees what he’s getting come on then Kara let’s give the peeve a free look, what I have to go to yeah she said in a raspy pissed of voice, apparently this happens they come in all sweetness and nice and wont part with the cash till they see what they ,re getting for their doh! But I don’t blame him he could be getting a right ugly old slapper and once he’s paid how’s he going to get his money back? It’s not the point some come with no intention of ever staying they ask to see us and then say no but, look sais Susie IL tell you in a MO, put this on she said as she dragged me into the other bedroom with the sexy gear and costumes where, it was a scarlet satin dressing gown and tie it tight he’s getting a look but not a free be and don’t untie it if he asks to see your tits or your figure got it, ok, ok!!Opening the door it was as you could expect for a hookers bedroom, not that I ever gave that much thought until I knew I was going to be in one. The king-size bed had a big brass headboard with ornate crystal beads and a canopy above a mixture of gold and silver silk woven above the bead until it formed (find word).On the bed was golden satin sheet and at least six big pillows all different shapes and sizes. The man who had been standing by the window with the shades are kept presently drawn down for obvious reasons zoomed straight over to us. What a pair we looked a five foot 1 black beauty with a blonde weave and a five foot and a bit redhead wig of course.