Father Sweet by J. J. Martin

Author:J. J. Martin [Martin, J. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dundurn
Published: 2019-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

7

Jamie had his workout kit in his bag. While he went to the toilet to change and clean up, Padre sat with me as I finished my chicken pie and beer.

“I knew your dad a little,” said Padre. “He and I went golfing once or twice.”

“Didn’t know Dad golfed,” I said, between forkfuls.

“He was proud of you,” he said.

I stopped chewing and looked at the man — the priest — across from me. “Come on,” I said. “Don’t give me the pastor routine. I don’t buy it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lookit, I don’t know what your agenda is here, but whatever it is, I appreciate your help with my brother tonight and sending off our father, but I’m not a church guy, so whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying. Yah?”

“No? Your dad told me you studied theology in university.”

I threw my head back and laughed. “Figures he’d say that. I took one year of anthropology of religion. Big difference. You don’t need to believe in God to get a degree in that. Which I did not get. Because I quit …”

“As for my agenda.… My agenda is you.”

“Oh, I bet it is, black-shirt,” I said, downing my beer.

Padre looked around the pub, squeezing his knuckles.

“Look, I’m sorry you had a bad experience with … but, if you ever need to talk,” he said.

“With all due respect, you’re the last person I would talk to.”

He sighed and sipped his beer. “I’ve heard that a lot over the past three months.”

“Oh yah?” I said, chewing. “What’d you do?”

“I’m new to the parish. You didn’t know? The previous priest is on leave. So, I’m here to serve the parish and help out.”

“‘On leave,’ eh?” I nodded sardonically. “You guys. When I was a kid, our priest was moved out under a cloud and an old Irish guy was brought in to fix us. Fix the parish.”

“I know all about Father Sweet.”

I stopped eating and examined Padre. “How’s that?”

“He sponsored the previous parish priest into the seminary. I know all about Sweet.”

My brother came back to our booth, uneasy on his feet. He stood balancing himself at the edge of the table.

“I’ll take you home, Jamie,” I said.

“I’d still like to talk with you,” Padre said. “There’s more to say. About your dad, and maybe about Father Sweet. And Father Lemieux.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Jamie.

“Daniel Lemieux, the priest I’m relieving,” said Padre.

My mouth dropped open. Danny Lemieux; our old neighbour and Father Sweet’s favourite altar boy.

“Didn’t we know a Danny Lemieux, back in the day?” Jamie asked me. “From hockey or something?”

I nodded slowly.

“I’m here to help,” Padre said evenly, locking his eyes with mine.

“We need to go,” I said. “Jamie’s legless and I need to get him home.”

“Don’t worry about this,” Padre said. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

Squirm came over to tell us the same thing.

“Squirm, you’re having a bad night with all this gratuity,” I said. “You can’t keep comping everyone’s bill.”

“It’s karma,” he said dismissively. “What goes around comes around.

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