appeared he forced a smile.
With a deep breath, the priest continued, “I’d like to show you his living quarters and where he has worked for the last five years. Would you like to see it?”
“I’m not so sure I want to spend any more time here,” Teresa answered. “What about you, Aunt Jessie?” she appealed.
For whatever reason, Jessie had a need to know more about her brother’s life, and she felt that maybe Teresa should come and see as well. “Well, we’re here, so let’s take a quick peek,” Jessie suggested. Then she turned to Father Benjamin, “How long will it take?”
“Just a few minutes, his office is down the hall and his living quarters are in the next building,” Father Benjamin answered.
CHAPTER 5
FATHER BENJAMIN STOOD UP AND MOVED toward the door, grabbing the set of keys he’d placed on his desk earlier that morning. The priest’s motions were so swift he didn’t noticed both women remained seated on the couch until he finally turned to escort them out. They’d been whispering intensely back and forth and continued to speak softly as he waited by the door to show them Juan’s office.
Who could blame the daughter for not wanting to be near anything her father had touched? Who would blame either of these women if they chose to walk away, forever? Father Benjamin had to deal with his feelings of betrayal by Juan, the level of which landed much lower on the Richter Scale than a sibling’s loss, or a daughter’s broken heart.
Had it been less than a week? It seemed like a lifetime ago when the turmoil of Juan’s life exploded into his own. Only last week he and Juan had still worked side by side. They had scoured the streets of Skid Row looking for the General.
“Father, this is not a mission for the timid,” Juan had warned the priest a few years before when he’d enlisted Father Benjamin to help find some other lost soul out in the streets of LA.
“Come on, Juan.”
“I’m not making this up. I know you think I kid a lot, but this is ugly business.”
At the time, Juan had a smile on his face, and his eyes were filled with an unexplainable spark. So the priest thought he was joking, though eventually, Father Benjamin recognized this “look” on Juan’s face as the “look” that could make Lucifer kneel down and pray. Juan had a knack of persuading anyone to do anything, and it began with this particular “look.”
“Marcus.” Father Benjamin was silenced by the sound of his first name. Juan’s smile had disappeared; he held the priest’s eyes. “I can’t describe the odor in these streets. It’s a stench beyond all description. You might feel the need to vomit. You might vomit.”
“I’ll be okay.”
Father Benjamin laughed now at the thought of it. He’d been so sure the street odors and liveliness wouldn’t faze him. He’d spent hours in the shelter and in the church kitchen with homeless men and women. He’d been aware of body, alcohol, and puke odors involved in this work.
Yet nothing had prepared him for the level of stench on Skid Row itself. It was far more intense then he’d expected, or had ever encountered in his life. Juan was right; Father Benjamin didn’t handle that first excursion very well. As he recalled it now, he’d been little help to his helper.
He’d returned home after a short search and an apology to Juan. At least Father Benjamin had refrained from getting sick in front of the other man.
Since that first incident, Father Benjamin had completed many searches on Skid Row with Juan. He’d learned how to handle the stench, and now, Father Benjamin realized, last week when the General disappeared, he and Juan attempted their final search together.
“Okay, let’s get this done quickly.” Teresa stood in front of him. He’d been so engrossed in his own thoughts he’d forgotten the task at hand.
“Oh, sure,” the priest answered.
Earlier, Father Benjamin hadn’t noticed the seriousness in Teresa’s
Learning to Kill: Stories