“You’re wrong,” the priest said smugly. “He wanted me to aid him in finding you.
“And you have,” I said, my tone bordering on crudeness. “I’ll ask again. What do you want?”
Father Matthew sneered. “What do you think, Jude?”
With my elbows on the table, I leaned forward, my tone resolute. “According to canon law, the bishop will send out letters to me and my family to alert them of my unauthorized leave of absence. The letters are also meant to remind me of my vows and for me to contact my superiors, which I have in my letters.” I took a deep breath and lowered my voice menacingly. “Neither you, nor the bishop… nor the Church on whole has the authority to physically retrieve me. If and when I decide to see or talk to Bishop Sanchez, that conversation will not include you and will take place on my terms and on my timeline. Am I making myself clear, Father Matthew?” His name came out in a hiss.
The priest’s reddened face made his full-cheeked countenance appear even rounder, like an apple. He undoubtedly didn’t presume I had it in me because he sputtered as he attempted a retort. “This is not the end, Father Jude.”
“Oh, Father Matthew, as far as I’m concerned, it is. Also, when you speak to my mother, feel free to tell her where you saw me. By the time, she can buy a plane ticket, I’ll be long gone.” I stood up and trashing my full coffee cup in a nearby bin, walked out.
“Come back now, Jude,” he yelled, flustered.
I didn’t even turn around. As soon as I was out of sight, I dashed to my car, hopped in, and took off as fast as I could. I wouldn’t dare go in the direction of my hotel. Instead, I drove farther inland to the town of Cypress, using side roads where I could lose someone in case he was following me. He drove a silver Ford Escape with the letters OFM as part of his license plate, which made it easy to identify his vehicle.
I wish I had my laptop with me because I would’ve sent an email to the bishop asking for an appointment. What Father Matthew made me realize was that I wanted an end to this. And meeting the bishop face-to-face might give him the incentive he needed to laicize me. I thought about where I could get access to a computer and slapped my forehead when I remembered the library.
Typinglibrary near meinto my GPS, the Cypress Library on Orange Ave came up, which was only five minutes away. When I entered the library, I had a better idea.
I approached the information desk, monitored by a middle-aged woman with a welcoming smile. “Hello, can I help you?”
“I hope so,” I said as I pulled my business card from my wallet, which had my photo. I handed it to her. “As you can see, I’m Father Jude, the pastor at St. Michael the Archangel Church in Long Beach. I lost my phone and have to contact my secretary. Is there a phone here that I can use? It’s rather important.”
“Of course, Father. Come this way.” She led me into a copier room with three copy and fax machines. Putting her hand downon a landline phone, she said, “You can access an outside line by pressing nine.”
“Thank you so much,” I said.
I dialed Inés.
“Father Jude?” She was clearly upset, going by her anxious tone. “Oh my God, where are you? Everyone is going crazy.”
“Inés,” I said evenly. “I need you to calm down so you can help me. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Father. But just tell me, are you okay?”
“Yes, I am and I’m really sorry I didn’t speak to you before I left. But it was a sudden decision.”
“Are you coming back?”
“No, Inés, but I can’t explain now. I promise, I will.”
She regained her composure and asked, “I’m good now, Father. What can I do?”
“I need you to be the go-between for me and Bishop Sanchez. I’ve changed my phone number and don’t want to give it out to anyone. I’m currently calling from a library. Above all do not share information with Father Matthew. Got it?”
“Definitely, Father. He’s been horrible to me since you left. Won’t stop asking if I’ve
heard from you.”
“Well, destiny wasn’t with me today,” I huffed out an exasperated sigh. “I was having coffee in Los Alamitos, he happened by and, of course, spotted me.”
Her concern came through in her question. “Are you in one piece?”
“Mostly,” I said. “Since he’s not my superior any longer I was able to speak my mind. But right now, I have a more important problem. I need you to call the bishop and set up an appointment for me to meet with him. Preferably for tomorrow. Make it clear to him that I’m leaving California and would like to apologize in person before I go.”
“Father, you want me to call immediately, right?”
“Yes, Inés. I’m going to get on one of the computers here. Email me his answer. He must know already that I changed my number so he can’t reach me directly. I’ll wait here for an hour. If I don’t hear back by then, update me whether you have an answer from him or not. Any questions?”
