Lucas was too tired to think of reasons toresist.“You’re the nice priest, huh?The other one’s the hardass?”The look on the priest’s face made it clear that Lucas’scomment was out of line.He had no idea what had possessed him tosay it in the first place.Of course the priests would sticktogether, and of course it wasn’t Lucas’s place to start makingsmart comments about the people who were rescuing him fromhomelessness.“I mean, I’m sure he’s nice too.Sorry.”
“Was there a problem between you?”The priestdidn’t seem angry, exactly, but there was definitely more thanrandom curiosity in his tone.It didn’t make sense, but if Lucashad been forced to describe it, he’d have said the priest seemedcautious.Which was a hell of a lot better than the serious case ofnerves Lucas currently suffered.
“No, no problems.I appreciate his efforts.Yours too.Everybody’s.”Jesus, Lucas needed to stop talking.Hewasn’t any good at this stuff when hewasn’tall beat up andconfused.“Thank you.”
“I’d like to talk to you about all that, atsome point,” the priest said.Lucas had no idea what he was talkingabout but he didn’t sound mad, at least.“But you should probablyfocus on getting your health back, for now.There’s time for otherissues later, right?”
“I guess?”It wasn’t like Lucas knew what hewas agreeing to, but putting off a conversation seemed like a goodidea.
“I think so,” the priest said, and he waitedwhile Lucas climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over his lap.“Now, soup.It’s just from a can—sorry.My wife makes wonderfulhomemade soup, and if your bruising keeps you from eating solids,I’ll ask her to send some over, but for now, it’s canned.”
“Your wife?I thought priests couldn’t getmarried.”
“Catholic priests can’t.I’m Anglican,remember?”
“Oh.”Lucas should probably get that figuredout at some point, but he didn’t think he wanted to do it rightthen.He watched, feeling useless, as the priest flipped a set oflegs out from the base of the tray and turned it into a low table,just the right height to fit over Lucas’s legs.Apparently theplace was set up for in-bed eating, so probably the priest wasright that the no-food-in-rooms rule wasn’t absolute.That wasreassuring.
The priest pulled up a wooden chair and satin silence while Lucas worked his way through the soup.If he’dbeen alone, he’d have lifted the bowl to his mouth and taken careof it in a few gulps, but he was pretty sure the priest wouldn’tapprove.So he figured out which arm it was less painful to lift,clutched the spoon in fingers that were clumsy from stress andpainkillers but not actually damaged, and he ate his soup like agood boy.
“Do you know what sort of work you’d like todo?”the priest asked when Lucas finally set his spoon down.
It was a baffling question.“I don’t know.Imean—something legal.Something stable?Like, regular hours?”Itwas pretty clear this wasn’t what the priest was looking for, butLucas had no idea what else to say.
“What about the work itself?You were workingas a roofer, as I understand it.Did you enjoy that?Was there asense of satisfaction at the end of the day?”
“From roofing?I don’t…” Lucas caughthimself.“Well, maybe.I didn’t use to pay much attention to it.But I guess I could see how it’d be good to finish a job.Like, tolook up and see that the roof was on and it was done right and thatmeant people were going to be dry and warm in that house.Is thatwhat you mean?”
“Exactly, yes.A sense of purpose, the ideathat your work is somehow contributing to something important.”Thepriest smiled.“Even when you have a frustrating day at work, orwhen you make a mistake or face a challenge, you can keep the bigpicture in mind and be confident that your pain is worthwhile.”
“Yeah.Okay.I don’t know, I guess roofingkind of has that?”Lucas tried to think it through.“But everyone’sjob does, right?I mean, people aren’t going to pay you if theydon’t think you’re making things better by doing whatever you’redoing.The guy pumping your gas is making it so people can getwhere they’re going, the girl checking out your groceries ishelping you put food on the table.If you twist it around enough,every job has something like that, doesn’t it?”
“So which jobs require the least ‘twisting’in order to see their utility?”The priest was clearly trying tomake a point, and quite possibly it was going to end up being apoint about what Lucas should be doing with his life, but theconversation didn’t feel intrusive.The priest was gentle andrespectful, kind of like Dr.Clark back in prison.And it wasn’tlike Lucas wouldn’t be happy to get some instructions about what todo next, so he played along.
“It’s stuff with education, right?That’swhat you’re going to say?Like, you don’t have to look very hard tosee how a doctor is helping people.Or a teacher or something.Iguess it’s a bit harder to do with lawyers.”
“I don’t think it’s tied in to education.It’s crystal clear to me how farmers help society, and how acleaning lady makes people’s lives better.It’s interesting thatyou took the idea in that direction, though—I started talking aboutsomething that gave you a sense of satisfaction, a sense ofpurpose, and that somehow shifted to ‘helping people’ over thecourse of the conversation.Do you think that you’d getsatisfaction from helping others?”
“Like, as a job?”The soup had given Lucas alittle energy, but it was fading fast.He couldn’t afford to wastewhat was left on this guy’s pipe dreams.“Look, Father, I’m justout of jail.I’m on parole, and I’m a mess.Nobody’s going to giveme a job where I’m supposed to be helping others.It doesn’t matterwhat kind of job I want, it matters what I can get.And whatever Iget, I guess I’ll just have to do whatever amount of twisting ittakes to believe that it’s worthwhile.”
“Nobody’s going to give you a job of anysort, not looking the way you do.And you’re still going to have adifficult time finding anything after you’re healed up with yourrecord.So we’ll have to be creative.We’ll have to work at it.Wemight as well be working in a direction that will get you a job youlike, instead of putting all that effort into finding you work thatmakes you miserable.”
It was an interesting concept.A job that heliked.Something he could actually care about.Maybe even somethingthat could fill some part of the hole in his life where Sean andhis friends were no longer.But he needed to be realistic.Thepriest was a dreamer, and that was nice, but it didn’t fit withLucas’s reality.“I don’t know.Jobs like that, other people aregoing to want them, right?So nobody’s going to hire me.Shouldn’tI try to find something that nobody else wants, so I have achance?”
“You’re twenty-two years old, Lucas.That’s along life ahead of you, too long to live it without hope.Withoutat least a little faith.”The priest laughed at Lucas’s expression.“No, I’m not going to try to convert you, although I’d certainly behappy to discuss God’s role in your future, if you’re open to that.But faith doesn’t have to mean believing in a higher power.Sometimes it can just mean believing in yourself.”
Lucas wouldn’t let himself say any of theself-pitying replies that sprang to his mind, so he kept his mouthshut.Yeah, the priest was a dreamer.Lucas only let himself dreamwhen he was asleep.
As if he’d heard that thought, the priestsmiled and said, “Get some sleep, then.I can bring you a book, ifyou’d like to stay up here when you wake up.I’ll probably be goneby dinner, but someone will be here.”
“The other priest?”
“No.I don’t think so.Father Webber istaking some time off.”
Lucas might not have picked up on it if thepriest hadn’t blinked.Just once, a quick reaction to a misspokenword.Nothing obvious, but it was enough to make Lucas think.Father Webber.Mark Webber.Mark Webber.Oh, Jesus, Lucas knew thatname.“Webber?”he whispered.“Jimmy Webber…Jimmy Webber’s brotheris named Mark.”Lucas had seen his name in newspaper articles.Andnow that he thought about it… “Jimmy Webber’s brother is aminister, or something.A…a priest?”
There was no immediate answer.The priest satstill, frowning at the floor, and finally said, “I’m sorry.Ididn’t mean to burden you with that.It’s not something you need toworry about.”
“Father Mark is Jimmy Webber’s brother?”Lucas couldn’t seem to raise his voice to a normal level.It cameout at a whisper, and he was pretty sure that if he pushed for morevolume it would turn into a scream.
