Dead Man Talking by A J Gallant

Author:A J Gallant [Gallant, A J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-30T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

FATHER PRIESTLY SAT ON A BENCH overlooking the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park. The big bronze statue of Alice, the White Rabbit and the Mad Hatter from Lewis Carroll’s novel were impressive. The priest remembered reading the book when he was a pudgy twelve-year-old boy. Kids loved to climb all over the statue but it was quiet at a quarter to six in the morning except for a starling singing. He didn’t recognize what kind of bird it was, but it did sound beautiful. Tweedle dee to do. Starlings were great at mocking other birds.

“Tweedle dee to you.”

Alone with one’s thoughts could sometimes be a sad place as some people tended to dwell on things, on the negative, and it was difficult to think of anything but the dark things pursuing him. Most of the pleasures in life had vanished like smoke in the air. However, it did look as though it was going to be a beautiful day although maybe a little too hot. But for now, the temperature was perfect if only he could get his mind on God instead of those other creatures.

He tried hard to think of other things, remembering when he was a teenager and was looking through a telescope at Saturn when this old fellow walked by and wanted to have a look. The senior couldn’t believe what he was seeing, thought that there must surely be a photo inside the telescope. He had gotten a good chuckle out of it all those years ago. Still remembering that Saturn was the middle star of three.

Priestly saw a man approaching with a long unkempt beard wearing a trench coat. There were more holes in the coat than there was material and his jeans had holes in both knees and one right through his pocket. If he wasn’t homeless he definitely looked it. The man sat on the opposite side of the bench and the Father wasn’t sure if he should ignore him or not. One didn’t need to be a demon to be dangerous.

They both sat quietly for a time, and then the man began mumbling to himself in a low voice, whatever he was saying the priest couldn’t understand a single word. He appeared conflicted in any manner as if he was arguing point and counterpoint with himself. Priestly felt sorry for him, wondering what turns on the road of life he had taken to end up here. Sometimes the odds of one succeeding were heavily against a person flourishing in this world, from mental illness to poverty to even having a horrifying upbringing that one could not escape.

Priestly looked in his direction without moving his head. He was gesturing with his hands pretty good, pounding his right hand into the palm of his left, belching in the midst of his talk and making him lose his place.

“If you left your wallet behind I probably wouldn’t give it back.” Freddie looked at the priest and then looked away. His voice was loud and clear now.

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