“I need to seeallof you, Mr. Lazare.”
Surely he didn’t mean… Joseph’s eyes slid in horror to the front of his trousers.
At the edge of his vision, Dr. Moretti motioned to the windows. “No one can see through the blinds. I need to confirm that you’re whole.”
“W-Whole?”
Dr. Moretti frowned the way Joseph’s father did when something interested him and looked up from his papers. “Are you a Jew?”
“No…” Being a Jew was better than being colored, but not by much.
The doctor returned to his notes. “Your hair; it made me wonder.”
He was starting to suspect! “My grandmother was Spanish,” Joseph blurted, then closed his eyes for a moment in repentance. He’d promised to tell the truth.
“You might still have Jewish blood. I am a descendant of converts myself. In any case, by ‘whole,’ I didn’t mean ‘uncircumcised.’ That doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not?—”
“Whatever you look like, whatever you’re worried about, Mr. Lazare, I do not care—unless you are a castrate.”
“What?” Just because his voice hadn’t changed much yet, that didn’t mean?—
“If youarea castrate, that is an impediment.”
Joseph didn’t know why the suggestion felt like an insult, when those parts would be utterly useless to him. “N-Nothing ismissing!”
“Unfortunately, I cannot take your word for that, Mr. Lazare. I must see for myself.” Dr. Moretti set down his pen.
Joseph didn’t move. He couldn’t. He was becoming a Priest so that he could befreeof this body! Even now, it had found a way to betray him.
If the doctor had asked to cut open his chest instead, Joseph would have agreed instantly. That would have felt like less of a violation, less of a risk.
Dr. Moretti would see the dark skin of Joseph’s genitals. He would see the black wool sprouting there. He would also see the pale splotch on Joseph’s left thigh. Until this summer, Joseph had found the birthmark interesting, like a permanent, vertical puddle of milk. Now, he knew it drew unmistakable attention to the fact that the rest of his skin was not so white. And was a birthmark an impediment?
Dr. Moretti was still waiting. “You begin a new life today, Mr. Lazare—provided, of course, that you pass these tests. I think it is only fitting that you begin your new life as you did your old one. ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will depart…’”
“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away,”Joseph continued inhis head,“blessed be the name of the Lord.”The words were from Job, but they recalled that prayer of Saint Ignatius:“Take, Lord, all my liberty…”
If Joseph revealed himself to this man, the liberty of his entire family might be taken away. Surely his father could not be re-enslaved now, but they could very well lose their freedom to live as whites. Joseph’s father would lose most of his paying patients; his sisters would have to marry colored men; Mama and Grandmama… How would they survive the shame? If Dr. Moretti learned the truth, he might tell anyone. He might mention it casually to some colleague, not even meaning any harm…
On the other side of the desk, the doctor sighed. “Do you or do you not want to be a Priest, Mr. Lazare?”
Joseph nodded haltingly. “I do.” But it was selfish and impossible, this dream of his; he must surrender it, for his sisters’ sakes, for Mama’s.
No, he argued with himself, it wasselfless: he was doing this to save souls. How many thousands of people would spend eternity in Hell if he didn’t rescue them? His family’s souls weren’t in danger, only their lives.
Perhaps his lie about being part Spanish would explain his coloring. Joseph had never seen a real Spaniard, let alone seen one naked. Perhaps Dr. Moretti hadn’t either. If God wanted Joseph to be His Priest, He would save him. God would blind the doctor to this one truth.
If Goddidn’twant Joseph to be His Priest…
His breaths were coming faster and faster, yet none of the oxygen was reaching his brain. Joseph feared he might faint. Then Dr. Moretti would never declare him fit. Joseph stumbled over to the edge of the chair and sat heavily, tugging off his shoes and getting his head more on a level with his heart.
Somehow he stood again and his fumbling fingers unbuttoned his trousers. Drawers next—all that shielded him from disaster. He wouldn’t look; if he didn’t look, he could imagine he was normal and that Dr. Moretti would see only a normal, colorless boy.
At last Joseph let his drawers and his trousers drop down his legstogether. Eyes determinedly closed, he stepped out of them into nothingness. It was June; how could he be so cold?
This is the first and last time anyone will ever see me naked,he chanted in his head like a prayer.This is the first and last time anyone will ever see me…
