The Encounter by Crawford Power

Author:Crawford Power [POWER, CRAWFORD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC026000, FIC000000
ISBN: 9781468306453
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2012-09-10T00:00:00+00:00

He heard the light knock as he was winding up his watch. He opened the door and stood aside, but Father Moran shook his head. He had taken off his coat and collar. Although his eyes were placidly, modestly, lowered, his voice still grated, strained to an earnest pitch.

“I won’t come in. I wanted to see you before you went to sleep. To apologize for what I said downstairs. I know I have no right to speak to you, to anybody, the way I did and I apologize.”

Father Cawder listened without attention. What did anger or apology matter? As if refinements of human respect were worth these careful frettings. He turned back into the room.

“I won’t think any more about it, Father Moran.”

“I was wrong to question your motives,” Father Moran went on in his contending voice. “I am sorry.”

“It’s not of any importance. We can both forget about it.” This easy exchange might be thought to be enough. Moran’s straight lips were inaudibly quivering as if he was framing a set of words. He stood silent and frowned.

“There is another thing,” he said at last. “I think I ought to speak about it now.”

Father Cawder studied the priest’s stiff flushed face with a benumbed melancholy. How hard he took these trifles. I have good will to you, he thought, I am disposed to charity toward you. “What is it?” he said as Moran again opened his mouth without speaking.

“I’ve been thinking about my work here,” he blurted out. “I wanted to tell you I know I’m not of much help to you here, Father Cawder.”

“I think you do your best, Father Moran. You may expect too much of your post here.”

“I don’t think I’m suited to our parish here—Lulworth. In a city I might not show up so badly, since that’s what I’m used to, but I don’t fit in a place in the country like this. And it seems to me you ought to have an assistant here who would be able to smooth things out for you. I don’t seem able to do that.” Father Moran’s eyes shifted as if he had noticed too bold a speciousness in what he said. “I’ve been thinking about this for some time. It really has nothing to do with tonight.”

Father Cawder began to unbutton his coat. “Why do you tell all this to me, Father? Why not go and tell the bishop how you feel?”

“I don’t want to do that. It might look like I was making a complaint about you or the parish here. It’s just that I think it would be better for me and the parish both if I were somewhere else.”

“You don’t choose to tell him and yet you tell this to me? Do you expect me to make complaints to the bishop?”

“No, I don’t.” After a pause Father Moran added, “Do you think you’ll see the bishop soon?”

“I intend to write to him about confirmation. But I am planning to go up to Cecilton to see Father.

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