Last Things by Ralph McInerny Read Free Book Online Page B

going. Why of all the ties that bound him to the past he should refuse to sever that one he didn’t know. Its value? What
is the market for used chalices? No, it was more than that, a sign of which was that he had never told Phyllis about it. He paid rental for the box annually, lying to her that it contained papers.
    â€œYou should transfer them out here.”
    â€œThey’re family stuff.”
    He did feel that he was flying into the past, the great jet a time machine that negated the years since he and Phyllis had left. She had been in campus ministry. It began when they chaperoned a student dance, wearing civvies of course. She asked him to dance.
    â€œBut I don’t know how.”
    â€œI’ll bet you’re a quick learner.”
    â€œI never went to a dance,” he told her.
    â€œI did. I entered after my junior year in college.” The convent. The fact that they had both taken vows in obscure Orders was a bond between them, and as they discussed her reasons for wanting to leave they became his own. Somewhere in an abstract world he must have imagined what it would be like to step back from the life that was his, but it was with her that he had first put it into words. Everything he knew told him the danger of what he was doing; retreats and spiritual reading should have been enough to make him turn away, to stop seeing her. But from the outset she had put him in the role of her confidant, her spiritual advisor, because of course he asked whom she had spoken with about her doubts.
    â€œNo one else.”
    â€œBut you should; you can’t just walk away.”
    â€œOf course I can. So many others have. Haven’t men left your Order?”
    Quitters, that is how in his heart of hearts he had thought of those who left, who applied for laicization, who for one reason or another claimed they had made a huge mistake. But now the
Church herself made it possible to leave, to start over. He found himself beginning to sympathize with those who left as if they alone were serious enough to think the thought and say the word. And act. Within hours, holding her in his arms, her voice sweet as Eve’s in his ear, he could feel the resolution of a lifetime begin to dissolve. Later, alone, in his single bed in his celibate room, he had stared at the play of lights upon the ceiling and trembled with fear. He resolved never to see her again. It was insane to think that a warm body against his own and her subversive chatter could undo what he had built up over so many years, the very self he was. When sleep came he had prayed for strength and was certain his prayer had been answered. In the morning, at the altar, saying Mass, all his actions seemed incredible, unfamiliar. He lifted the bread in his hands and bent to say the words of consecration, and they stuck in his throat. Dear God, I believe, he had prayed, help thou my unbelief. The efficacy of what he did was not dependent on his mood; he was a priest. He managed to say the words. This is my body. And then he took the chalice Aunt Eleanor had given him and whispered the words of consecration over the wine. But when he raised the chalice he had the dreadful thought that it was still only wine.
    Incredibly, within a week his faith was wholly gone. He saw Phyllis at every opportunity; they exchanged tales of those who had left, nuns, priests. How easy it seemed. They were both young; there was still time for another life. They began to fantasize about California.
    â€œLet’s go,” she said.
    In answer he showed her the keys to the car and the Order’s credit card. It was as if the decision had already been made by his blood.
    At thirty-eight thousand feet he relived it all, and it was as if for the first time he dared think about it, review the steps, see
himself as if from some great height. He had two opposed sets of criteria with which to judge himself: those he had acquired during the years of study for the