by Pamela White
Priest
True Love
Priest: A TRUE LOVE STORY
By Pamela White
Priest: True Love
Copyright © Pamela White
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is coincidental.
Prologue
The bitch! The bitch! She’s nothing but a goddam bitch!
I stood gazing outside the window in my parent’s house, in Boston Massachuettes. They have gone to the bedroom to sleep, as they often do in the early evening hours. Outside the snow is piling up heavily. I am a Roman Catholic Priest. I am not on any ministerial duty right now.
I had never had a sexual relationship with a woman-that was, until I met Kelly Hall. For years now I’ve been trying to work through my feelings about her.
I met Kelly when I was the Priest of Carlyle’s prison church mass. Although it has only been two years since I left Carlyle, it seems more like a lifetime ago. I went from being the Priest over prison church mass to federal inmate, at Brazos county jail. Now I have been released. Over this time period in my life, I’ve carried feelings wavering between love, desire and anger concerning that woman. The feelings I’ve gone through concerning her have changed me, for life. No matter how hard I’ve tried, I can never forget how much I love Kelly Hall. And that we have a child, I have yet to meet. I thought to myself—The time has come.
One
Counselor
“So tell me, how have you been since I saw you, two weeks ago, Mr. Nicholson?” The young psychologist, Jeff Thomson, asked. My attention had dwindled again from the one on one counseling session, I was in, with the young psychologist, whom we all called Doc. I was an inmate who had been meeting with Doc, over the past 3 months at his office in the Brazos county detention facility.
It was so weird to me, being an inmate, after having supervised hundreds of women inmates myself at Carlyle prison. I could never have imagined being in the situation that I was now in, being on the other side of the prison walls. But here I was, a Priest who was depressed and living in captivity.
“All is well,” I said. I reclined back in the upholstered chair and grasped my mouth, realizing that not only was I a Priest that had experienced a pleasureable, sexual relationship with a woman, but I’d just lied to Doc, on top of all of that. In all reality, I was feeling quite distraught. My life had been forever altered and my future, uncertain.
Leaning forward Doc said, “Well that certainly is a change. The last time we met you told me that you were very sad. So sad in fact, that you had talked about ending your life.”
I nodded and grimaced, acknowledging that he was right. It wasn’t just the fact that I’d become held up from normal routines of daily life by living in a jail cell, but also that I was at risk of being defrocked from the Priesthood. These were concerns I had, that had built up over time, while I lived in the Brazos jail. Troubled thoughts had taken over my entire moods, during the nineteen months it had taken to go to trial over the forbidden affair and receive a judgement from the judge. And now, after having gone to trial and getting sentenced, my emotional state had seeminglyworsened.
I was no longer living in my contemporary home located in the countryside of Bryan, Texas and hadn’t been to that house in a long time. And after getting sentenced, I knew that I would not be returning to my home in Bryan, or ministry at Carlyle. Recently, I’d also started struggling with something else. For the first time in my life, I’d been dealing with emotions of anger. I wasn’t sure why or how to explain such a foreign feeling to Doc. Half the time I wasn’t even sure of whom I was angry at-Kelly Hall or myself.
I lowered my head, clasped my hands tightly together, shook my head and briefly closed my eyes. Then, for a moment, she somehow began to seep once again into my thoughts. I saw her in my mind. She was standing in front of me-looking at me, her eyes roving down to my dick with those beautiful, alluring eyes. She was so lovely, fair and vivacious to behold.
“Hello-o-o?” Doc said, interrupting my train of thought. “Mr. Nicholson, is there anything else you’d like to talk about today?”
I looked up, startled to see him leaning forward in his chair, thoughtfully staring at me. As if he knew what I had been thinking about Doc said, “I remember the last time we spoke, you spoke about your position in being a Priest. And that you are living in the detention center because of your having had sexual relations with an inmate. Would you like to talk more about that?”
I felt strangely appeased that even though the psychologist must’ve had hundreds of clients each month, he remembered my personal situation. But, at the same time, how he related my experience sounded somewhat offensive. Because Kelly was much more than someone I’d had sexual relations with. I’d actually loved her, and oh my God In spite of everything I’d gone through because of it, I still loved her!
I sat up. Meeting with Doc made me feel awkward, because I also was a well-educated man, but now I was on the other side of the penal fence, in being an inmate.
“You know, I gained so much knowledge and education in theology. But all of my knowledge and understanding in religious studies did not prepare me for dealing with that woman.”
“I take it that you’re referring to Kelly Hall.”
“Yes. After I met her, I became changed.”
“So you’ve come to understand what went wrong?”
“I’m still trying to work through all of that. I really am.”
A thought flashed through my mind about one way that could help me feel a little better. I could show Mr. Thomson proof that I was not just another inmate, but also a Priest, well educated and former officer. I leaned back, pulled my hair out of my face, reached into my orange jumpsuit upper pocket and gave him the newspaper clipping.
As he looked at it, I glanced downwards, tapped my fingers rhythmically on my thighs and said, “Well, I’ve been here at Brazos county jail almost two years. Now I’m down to 21 days before I get released. And I’m not sure what is going to happen to me after that. I don’t know if I’ll even still be a Priest, to be honest.”
I stared at the wall as he now read the newspaper article aloud:
“Priest Who Sexually Abused An Inmate Sentenced to 28 months in Federal Prison A Roman Catholic priest, who worked at Carlyle federal prison in Texas, was sentenced by Tom Smith, the U.S. District Judge to 28 months incarceration, announced Dillinger, the U.S. Attorney of the Western District of Texas. Judge Smith also ordered Nicholson, 35, who pled guilty in September to two counts of sexual abuse of a female inmate, to pay a $1000 fine. The Priest is a naturalized U.S. citizen, who came from Morocco. He was properly returned into custody to serve the remaining 5 months of his sentence” –Austin News
He arched an eyebrow and stared at me. After returning the newspaper clipping, he said, “That’s a fairly detailed article. What are your thoughts about it?”
“That article was written by someone who wants to sell news. It has nothing to do with the actual truth of what happened.”
“In every confrontation, I’ve found there to be two sides. Your side, the other one’s side and the truth. So please feel free to tell me what the truth is-as you see it?”
“The truth is, the relationship between me and this woman was consensual. There was no rape about it. Never. Now I won’t deny that we were involved. I accepted that responsibility. I am pa
rtially to blame that we were involved with each other.. But I was not the one who initiated the sexual relationship.”
“Look, I’m not judging you. But, just telling you that others would see that you were the officer and she was an inmate. So you held authority over her. Is that not correct?”
“Yes. But, I am a Priest firstt. At least I still am still a Priest as far as I know. I don’t even know if I will still want to continue being one, if I still am one, after I get released. ”
“Isn’t that all the more reason that you might be considered to have been at fault in the situation? Being a Roman Priest means you’re not supposed to have sexual relations, doesn’t it?”
He had touched a raw nerve. I was upset now and began to raise my voice.“You know Doc, no one knows just what I went through with that young woman. She was not innocent! Not by a long shot. That was what I tried to explain to my attorney, when I went through the justice process. She came to me because she was having problems. I was trying to help her with her problems. I tried to help her like I’ve helped many inmates who have come to me during a crisis. And next thing I know, here I am getting sentenced to the federal prison system myself! I failed to realize that in trying to help someone, it could all be used to work against me. But now I see things a lot more clearer. She wanted me and my blindness to that fact is where all my problems began! “
Silence.
I had vented my anxieties and now began to calm down. I felt relaxed; I did not want to admit to Doc that I had also wanted Kelly as much as she had wanted me, and I still wanted her. Oh my God, oh how I wanted her touch!
“Okay Mr. Nicholson. We’ve covered a lot today. I gather you’ll be getting released soon.” He smiled, placed his hands on the back of his head and reclined back in the chair. “So, since I doubt that we’ll be meeting again before you’re released from federal custody, I want you to know that I believe you’re going to be just fine.”
I wryly smiled and looked at him.
“You’ve sorted through a lot about the events that brought you here. That’s a good thing. You just keep on working through it all and eventually, you’ll be able to move on with your life. These things have a way of working out in time. You can trust me or even better, trust your God on that.”
I felt more relaxed as the meeting with my psychologist was coming to an end. “You’re right, and I thank you for helping me to get through these final months of doing time.”
“Of course. I want you to know that I never judged you, concerning your situation. Just rest assured, this will all work out. You’ve made a lot progress working through it. Continue to pray and things will get better.” We stood up and shook hands before I exited out of the office.
From the Author:
Hi,
I thank you for choosing Priest: True Love. I hope you enjoy reading it. If so, why not share it with a review at one or more of the reading sites? I appreciate your reviews and recommendations to others. Cheers!
Two
Afterwards
I had a good childhood. The neighborhood I was raised up in was working middle-class. My mother was a nurse, my father was an engineer at Valero. We lived in Houston, Texas. I grew up in a large two-story home with my mother, father and two younger sisters. But after a series of events in my life had occurred, here I was, leaving Carlyle federal prison located in the outskirts of Bryan, Texas. I had been incarcerated two and half years, when I made my way out of that place. The automatic front doors of the prison lobby doors opened up before me. I stepped out onto the sidewalk with my brown medium suitcase and black purse in hand.
I’d towered above most of the other women inmates, in prison, standing at 6’2.” I pulled back my bangs, and lightly ran my fingers through my free falling long, brunette hair that was styled in a neat ponytail. I had on a short jean skirt showing off my long sleek legs and a short-sleeved white top. I crossed the green clean cut lawn and got into the yellow taxi sedan waiting next to the curve. I told the driver to take me to the greyhound bus station. I did not turn back to look at Carlyle-not once.
My fingers lightly ran across my hair again as I considered some of the women inmates still living behind the walls. Gazing downwards many of their faces crossed my mind. The newspaper article write up didn’t show what the inmates viewpoints were, when the big story had broken out. But I remember how the women behind the prison walls had gossiped over the scandal that had come out three months earlier, all about Father Daniel and I, Kelly Hall. Not surprisingly, my integrity within Carlyle had gone out of the window just like his.
I could remember being called a con artist, Priest seducer and a slut to name a few of the labels I was termed. I had withdrawn from speaking to mostly everyone— except my best friend Julia. In effect I had pretty much turned into a hermit ever since news of the sexual love affair between me and Father Daniel had broken out, months earlier.
And still in my mind, he was the kind of man I had wanted all my life: The Priest, Father Daniel. He’d had such a wonderful, unique way of ministering to the women, including myself. However, it wasn’t just his way of preaching that had attracted me to him, it was far more. He was a genuine, caring and conservative man.
I closed my eyes. I remembered his large hands now. His hands were around my waist. I was taking his hands with mine. I held onto his hands tightly. I didn’t want to let his hands go. It seemed as if I could keep him near me, if only I did not let go of his hands.
That was all a dream now. I opened my eyes and gazed out at the passing green trees and landscape of Bryan. I considered even now, that Father Daniel was the love of my life. I had never known a man like him. More than anyone, he understood me. But my conscious had bothered me because he was a Priest. A Priest, yes, but also the one man I longed to be with. Even now. However, despite the fact that we’d made love many times behind prison walls, deep down, I had wondered if I could ever have really kept him to myself. Because of a commitment he had made long ago, to a Higher Authority.
The cab continued moving toward downtown Bryan. I had often thought about Father Daniel, even before our break up. Thoughts of our loving moments, and the disastrous ending haunted me. And more than anything, I wondered if against all the odds, I would ever see him again. I looked up from my intense recollections and gazed out at the rural and suburban acreage, as we rode along. After twenty minutes of rural and suburban scenery, I saw several tall buildings coming into view, as the cab neared downtown Bryan. It was a welcome sight because I knew the bus station was close by. Soon afterwards, the taxi ride came to a stop in front of the Greyhound bus station. I reached into my purse and paid the driver $26.00 and quickly exited, taking my suitcase and purse with me as I scooted out of the back seat.
I maneuvered through a maze of adults and children standing around each of the three parked buses in the bus terminal. I continued moving along, reading the panel on each windshield, until I found the one that read: Houston, Texas. Having located the bus that would get me back to my family, I got into the line gathered in front of the bus’s ramp and handed the driver standing outside, the bus ticket sent to me by my mother. I stepped onto the ramp and sat down in a vacant seat on the third front row of seats.
Even though the scene of leaving Carlyle Women’s Prison had replayed in my mind hundreds of times over the past two years, l now felt nervous. It was true I knew now. I was free. That reality was beginning to sink in. I glanced up as other passengers continued coming through the bus’s entranceway. A middle-aged black woman dressed in a fancy ivory colored dress and matching stylish hat sat down next to me, on the seat near the isle. I nodded politely then gazed out the window. I took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh scent coming from the blue upholstered seating around me.
My hand fidgeted and moved down to my stomach area. I gently rubbed my abdomen. Whereas before I’d had a thin, flat waistline, it was now slightly protruded. I looked down at it and reflected over the tiny life growing within me. I was four months pregna
nt with a Priest’s baby. Problem was, I didn’t know if our child would ever meet the father. I grimaced as I remembered hearing inmates gossiping that Father Daniel was sure to get deported back to his native country, Morocco, once his sentence time was complete.
My jumbled thoughts and emotions felt overwhelmed now and I closed my eyes. For some reason, I slept more now that I was pregnant. I had fallen asleep with my head leaning against the window of the bus, a few minutes later.
Three
Inmate
“Okay ladies, follow the officers!” A female guard yelled, from the center of Carlyle’s prison lobby. We’d been encircled around her for the last six minutes. After she said those words, our group of 10 formed a line and followed a male and female officer, into the back exit of Carlyle prison’s admission building. The two guards pressed the lever to the back doors, walked outside and watched as we went down the ramp that led to a sidewalk. I stood approximately near the middle of the line between two other female inmates. As we began moving towards the lodging units, the inmate who had fallen in step next to me tapped my shoulder. I turned and glanced at her. I remembered having seen the tall, blond woman at the holding center. We had crossed paths along the hallways of the county detention center with each other a few times, but had never shared the same cell. While continuing the walk, we introduced ourselves and began a brief conversation.
“What’s your name?” She had a serene sounding voice.
“Kelly Hall,” I replied. “Weren’t you at the Harris county jail?”
“I sure was. And I’m Julia Randall by the way.”
I glanced at her blue eyes. I noted the contrast and similarities between us: Whereas she was average in height, with medium length blond hair and slender, I was tall and slender with long brunette hair.
“Yeah, I noticed you while we were riding on the bus.”
