Chapter 51: Confession

One day a tall, dark-haired stranger showed up at the mission. He introduced himself as "Brother Sebastian, servant of the lord." He began proselytizing the residents. He gave mesmerizing sermons with soaring rhetoric. His message was inspiring, yet vague. Members who heard him speak would afterwards marvel at the young man's way with words, but they could not remember a single thing he had said.

    Mary was drawn toward the handsome young preacher. His eyes roamed around the congregation, making direct eye contact with everyone -- except Mary. She hung on his every word, her face rapt. Finally, near the end of his spiel, he stared directly at Mary, penetrating her with his gaze.

    At the end of the sermon she stood up. Without any conscious will of her own, she began moving toward the handsome preacher. She was being pulled by an invisible force. "Your message was...was," she stammered.

    "Yes?" Brother Sebastian said.

    "Well, it was; I mean,"

    "Spoken from the heart?"

    "Yes."

    "It's my calling. To preach the good news. You can save yourself. Anybody can. It's up to you. It is within your power to change the world. You have to start by changing yourself."

    "But how?"Mary asked.

    "Listen to me. I can show you," Brother Sebastian intoned. "I sense that you are in trouble; in need of counseling."

    "Yes."

    "Forgive me: You are with child, but without husband."

    "Yes. -- But how did you...?"

    "A common enough problem, I assure you. You are not alone. We are here for you."

    "I don't know what to do about it'" Mary said.

    "You mean, whether to have it or not," Brother Sebastian suggested.

    "Yes."

    "There are people here to help you -- with any decision you make."

    "But -- isn't it a sin?"

    "So many get hung up on that word," Brother Sebastian said.

    "But you're a minister."

    "I am not here to judge you."

    "But you should."

    "How much time we waste with self incrimination, guilt," Brother Sebastian sighed.

    "You sure don't sound like a preacher," Mary said.

    "We have a responsibility to meet the needs of the people. We want to win souls for the master. We have to keep our message relevant," Brother Sebastian said with conviction.

    "What is relevant for me?"Mary asked. "I'm pregnant, and I don't know how. I mean, really. It's no joke. I don't know how it happened. I never - even - since..." Suddenly it all came tumbling down - all of it. It caved in on Mary like an avalanche. She was buried in memories; horrible images. Things her mother's boyfriends made her do. Things even her mother did. Unspeakable. She was suffocated. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. She couldn't cry. She was buried alive; blocked. Something had to come out - something awful. But it couldn't. Mary felt faint; she was falling, drowning, screaming, dying - without being able to utter the slightest sound.

    Brother Sebastian reached out and gently touched her shoulder, then hugged her tightly. Her head fell on his shoulder. It had to break loose - now - now - NOW! Mary's body began quivering, shaking, unstoppable - and still voiceless. She couldn't bear it any longer. At last something deep within her rose up. Her stomach like a rock; her throat constricted; her jaw locked tight. She exploded. What came from her body wasn't a scream or cry. It was a roar like a furnace, a volcano. Her knees buckled. Brother Sebastian held her more tightly, kept her from falling. And now it finally came out freely. Torrents of tears. Wailing, she clung to Brother Sebastian as a drowning man clings to a log.

    "Release is the first step to healing," Brother Sebastian said. He guided her gently to a chair and sat her in it. "It's a long road, but we are here to walk it with you. Go and rest now. We'll talk about what you want to do later."

Chapter 50: The worm turns

The next few weeks passed uneventfully. Mary met the residents of Brother Holloway/Glubwart's Home for the Homeless. Each and every one had a story to tell. Paul was a victim of the economic crash. A smart, experienced executive in a banking firm, he lost his job, his home, his wife, and finally, his courage. He wound up on the street drinking cheap wine. "Brother Holloway restored my courage," he said. "The rest is up to me." Isabella was the daughter of illegal immigrants. "You never feel right, you know?" she told Mary. "This is the only home I've known, and yet there's a piece missing; maybe a piece of me. I tried to find that piece, and wound up a plaything for a street gang. Brother Holloway saved me out of that life." Of all the residents, Mary's favorite, her closest friend, was Mrs. Emerson. "You got trouble, you know where to come, child," she told Mary. "Anybody got a problem wit chu, dey got a problem wit me."

    Brother Holloway/Glubwart was always handy, but never intrusive. He gave Mary her "space." "If you need me, my door is always open," he told Mary. "I hope you know that."

    Brother Holloway/Glubwart was in his office when the phone rang. "Glubwart!" an all-too-familiar voice rasped. "What in Hell's name are you doing? Wasting your time -- and more importantly, mine -- on one misfit girl! Get back in your office. While you're chasing after one miserable jewel, thousands are being squandered! If you want to go back to the front lines, that can be arranged. I can bust you back up to demon first class. I was mistaken to make you a middle manager." Blah blah blah. Glubwart half listened. He knew what Screwtape was up to -- try to get him off the Underworld's most important case, and take all the credit for himself.

    For once, Glubwart had the advantage on Screwtape. He wasn't about to relinquish it. He let Screwtape finish blathering, then calmly said, "You and I both know the importance of this case. I'm seeing it through."

     He hung up the phone. Glubwart knew he was taking a huge risk; Screwtape could bite off his head -- literally -- anytime he chose -- but Glubwart was betting that Screwtape was in a precarious spot himself. He couldn't risk losing this case. Glubwart was making progress. If Screwtape took him out and the case fell through, then Screwtape's own head would be on the chopping block.

    At the other end of the line, Screwtape sat in stunned silence. Never had an overling dared to talk to him like that -- much less hang up the phone on him. His jaw clamped so tight he almost bit off his own head. "Miss Caliente," he roared. "Get me Snakefoot! Now!"

Chapter 49: A new home

The bus squeaked to a stop in a seedy section of town. "Here we are, my dear," Brother Holloway/Glubwart said. Seeing Mary was asleep, he gently tapped her shoulder. "Wake up, child. You're home. Time to meet your new friends and family. I'm sure you will love them as I do."
   Mary stretched and rubbed her eyes. Something felt different. She couldn't place it. Suddenly she knew -- she hadn't been dreaming. At least, she didn't remember her dream. She slid out of her seat and looked up at Brother Holloway/Glubwart, who was smiling an angelic smile. With an open palm, he invited Mary to exit the bus. When they had disembarked, Glubwart took Mary's arm. "This way."
   Brother Holloway/Glubwart's dazzlingly white suite was in stark contrast to the dirty, drab streets they walked down. "I must apologize for the neighborhood," he said, reading her thoughts. "But our lord also ministered to the poorest and lowest, did He not?"
   The streets became smaller and dirtier, until at last Brother Holloway/Glubwart turned down a dingy alley littered with trash and homeless men. The stench from large metal dumpsters was overpowering. "Do not be afraid, my dear," Glubwart said. These people are poor, but they -- most of them, that is -- are decent folk. I will always be with you. You are perfectly safe here."
   Brother Holloway/Glubwart took out a large leather purse from his pocket, fished out a key and opened a green door. Mary blinked. Inside, it was light and airy. Glubwart led the way down a narrow corridor, opened a side door and beckoned Mary to go in. The pleasant drawing room was bright and cheerful. Flowers were on a window sill. The window was shuttered, keeping out the dark. Inside was like a sweet-smelling oasis from the bleak outside.
   "Mrs. Emerson, please come," Holloway/Glubwart called. "Come meet the newest member of our family."
   A fat, jolly-faced black woman emerged from the kitchen, bringing with her delectable, intriguingly unidentifiable aromas. "Welcome, child," she said, and embraced Mary. Her huge, strong arms and copious bosom enveloped Mary, offering protection, sanctuary. "It's my special recipe," she said, when she released Mary and saw Mary's nose and eyes riveted on the kitchen door. Soon Mary was eating one of the most delicious meals she had ever eaten; a nostril-and-tastebuds extravaganza of succulent shrimp gumbo liberally populated by juicy fat sausages. She realized she was famished, which no doubt added to her enjoyment. Next, Mrs. Emerson opened the oven, which radiated the tantalizing smell of moist, chocolate-packed chocolate chip cookies.
   When Mary was stuffed and could eat no more, Mrs. Emerson showed Mary to her room. It was clean and comfortable, with fresh bed linens, neatly folded and tucked under a soft, plump pillow. "Everybody has their own room," Mrs. Emerson said. "You'll meet them all later. We're family, but even family needs to have their privacy sometime, ain't it so?"
    Mrs. Emerson left Mary alone. She closed the door, looked at her comfortable bed and sighed. For the first time in her life, Mary felt at home.