Lucifer's Lottery by Edward Lee Read Free Book Online Page A

have priests that quit when they start feeling that they’ve missed out. It’s the same things with the nuns—good Lord. I’ve been around a while so I know what I’m talking about.”
    Before the notion to ask even occurred consciously, Hudson began, “Monsignor, did you ever . . .”
    The old man lurched forward in his chair. “Did I ever break my vow of celibacy? Are you being audacious enough to ask me that?
Me?
”
    “I-I-I,” Hudson bumbled. “Not audacious, sir. But . . .”
    “Fine. It’s an honest answer. God needs priests with balls, too.”
    Hudson’s brow shot up.
    “No, I never broke my vow of celibacy, and I’ve been a priest for almost seventy years.” The monsignor’s gaze sharpened to pinpoints on Hudson. “But I’ll tell you this. I
almost
did many times, but in the end, I resisted.”
    “That’s . . . probably easier said than done.”
    “Nope. I asked God to take the burden of my temptations off of my shoulder and onto his. And he did. He
always
does”—very quickly, the Monsignor pointed—“
if
you have faith.”
    “I have faith, Monsignor.”
    “Of course you do, but you’re also full of idealism—you’re too young to know what you’re talking about.” The old smile leveled on Hudson. “I’ll bet you don’t even masturbate—”
    Hudson didn’t, but he blushed.
    “I won’t ask if you do or you don’t, but know this, young man. There’ll be none of that shit after you’re a priest.”
    Hudson had to laugh.
    “All I’m saying is it’s reasonable in God’s eyes to get all of that out of your system before you take your true vows. That’s why I won’t give you a referral until you’ve gone out into the world for a year or so. You see, if I recommend you to a seminary, what I’m really doing is recommending you to God. Don’t make a monkey out of me in front of
God
.”
    This guy’s a trip
, Hudson thought. “I understand, sir.”
    “Good, so where are you going?”
    Hudson drew on a long breath. “Florida, I think. I grew up in Maryland, where I learned to shuck oysters. I could get a job doing that.”
    “Good, a real-world job, like I’ve been saying.”
    “A friend of mine lives down there now. We were acolytes together.”
    The old priest’s eyes widened. “Is he in the vocation?”
    Hudson chuckled. “No, sir, I’m afraid not. He’s, I guess, lost his faith, but—”
    “Excellent. You can help him find it again while you’re shucking oysters in Florida and experiencing real life. The real world, Hudson. You need to know it before you can be a priest.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The monsignor looked at his watch. “I have a golf match now. Make sure you clean all the windows in the chancellery today. Then you can take off. Go to Florida, live amongst the other people. Then come back in a year or so and I’ll get you into any seminary you want.”
    “Thank you, Monsignor.” Hudson kissed the old man’s ring as he reached for his golf bag . . .
    That was the dream. Hudson awoke late, slightly hung-over. He supposed a soon-to-be seminarist getting half drunk was easily more pardonable than soliciting hookers. He was proud of himself for resisting the temptation last night, but then . . .
    Pride’s a sin, too
.
    Had it really been resistance, had it really been
faith?
Had passing up the prostitutes to help a poor woman
really
been a good deed?
Or was it just guilt?
    He hoped it wasn’t the latter.
    He had very little money right now, especially after emptying his wallet to the poor mother last night. And he’d been let go at the Oyster House several days ago due to a recession-induced lull in local tourism. It didn’t matter, though; he’d be leaving for the seminary in Jersey in less than a week, and he could always get a meal at the church where he helped out with lay duties. He had to go there today, as a matter of fact, to help Father Darren prep for the late service.
God will provide
, he thought, and believed it. But still . . .
    It