"Saving Graces" Part One

“How comfortable he must have been on his bed of pain...” Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, Leader of the Catholic Church in England and Wales, in regards to the death of Pope John Paul II.

Rev. Dalton Jr. leafs through the holy book on his dresser and ponders over a particular passage, 1 Samuel 14:50

"And the name of Saul's wife was Ahinoam, the daughter of Ahimaaz: and the name of the captain of his host was Abner, the son of Ner, Saul's uncle."

He pauses, tips his head to one side and takes a drink from his beer bottle, cocking his head back to drain the last drops and set it down in front of him, scowling at the passage. He reads the passage out, this time muttering along to himself,

"And the name of Saul's wife was Ahinoam, the daughter of Ahimaaz: and the name of the captain of his host was Abner, the son of Ner, Saul's uncle.... Goddam it, what the hell are you talking about, sleeping with sisters mothers daughters wife, are you from Utah, or something?”

He looks across the modest surroundings of his home and takes in the smell of the warm steam from the shower room down the hall, where the hushed voices are congregating. A breath of lavender and coconut moisturising cleanser arouse the Reverend from his hunched, studious state. Giggles, torturous laughter and an occasional shriek emanate from across the cottage. He leans back and looks towards the voices in wonderment.

“Diane, quit tickling me, you know ahm all kinda sensitive...” came the playfully harrassed female voice. Alice had a Kentucky drawl that was all her own, yes Sir, it was. It was from no stage school she would tell you, it was the very one her Mama gave her.

“Shit, Damn... papercut...” the Reverend sucked on his finger as he closed the book in front of him. “That’s what happens when you stray from the good word of the Lord, Theodore.” He said to himself.

Rev. Dalton rose from his chair and wandered across the middle of the room to the fridge in the open plan kitchen. It was a kitchen made for cooking with lots of big soup pans and a new addition of woks and having been used to its full capacity already on a number of occasions. He had regularily found himself feeding a number of different young people, some from this very New Hampshire town, others found their way across state to his home and one young man had even searched out the Reverend from nearby Vermont, where he is known there by reputation for his hospitality, tolerance and understanding. The strays, the lost and the misunderstood found their way onto his porch, he returned home on a regular basis to find himself a new temporary ward often asleep in his hammock.

“The Hammock is not for winter.” He often joked upon his arrival, holding out his welcoming, muscular arm and his large paws to greet them. They would often stay long enough until their parents cooled down, absorbed their kids revelations of bi sexuality or worse, running away from abuse and torture from over zealous fanatical parents who loved their Lord just a little too much at times.

“Did you cut yourself again Reverend?” came the bronx accent of the waif chocolate skinned girl stood before him in her crisp cotton shirt and panties. She went straight to a different cupboard and produced a bottle of iodine and liniment from his kitchen. Diane had such a cool and familiar aura about her and knew her way round the parish. She had been staying with Rev. Dalton almost a year now. She had jumped onto a greyhound two days after her 16th birthday and headed north to chance her luck out, away from the state trying to borstal the girl after her parents had both gone to jail and the grave consecutively. The reverend had found the girl destitue and living on the streets in a nearby town.

“How’s the new girl, Di?”

“I’m breaking her in, y’know me....” she sighed, twisting her black twisty dread.

“I bet you are, you little minx...”

She dabbed the iodine onto the cut and took the bottle of beer from him.

“Thanks,” she whispered into his ear as she stretched up on her toes. “She tastes like a peach, Reverend. Just how you like...”

The two girls moved into an adjacent TV room, Diane led Alice by the hand who still giggled nervously and in the midst of towelling her naked young form as they passed him. She grinned and held her head down and her hand in front of her mouth. She seemed unkempt and wondered if Diane had plans for growth of hair in new girls armpits and overgrowing in the crotch area. Diane was a feverent waxer and always kept smooth and liked that too of her female partners. He would assume if the interest was there then the days were numbered for Alice’s pussy.

He returned from another room a while later, hearing the moans from the same room. The door was ajar and in the dark with the flicker of the hospital soap in the background, he wallowed in the sight of the sight of Alice spread across his futon on her back with her feet spread apart and the dark hair of Diane covering her belly and crotch, furiously lapping on the white trash heeb.

“Oh ma Lord, no-one has ever made ma head shake like that, oh darlin’”

Theodore peeped his head further into the room and inhaled the smell of the new girls inner scent and tasted the sanctum she oozed. He fumbled with his trousers and put a hand into his pants. He closed to door to give the girls their privacy as there was a knocking at the door.

Rev. Dalton: “Can I help you, gentlemen?”

Papal figure: “I am representing the church of St. Peter of the Vatican and have come to notify you of your candidacy for ordination to aid us lead the Catholic church into the new millenium...”
Rev. Dalton (politely, closing door): “I think you have the wrong house.”

Papal figure: (gesturing a hand up to the closing door): “You are Rev. Dalton, Is that not correct?”

Rev Dalton: “Yes, Yes... I am as a matter of fact, what is this about?”

Papal figure: “May I come in? There is something I need to explain to you...”

Rev. Dalton’s inital reaction is a curteous one, but he thinks twice as the bulge in his trousers reminds him of the illicit lesbian sex in the other room. He gestures the two men, draped in official red and white robes towards the greenhouse and away from the orgasmic gasping of Alice.

“Let’s get you boys a drink, you came all this way to see lil ‘ol me?”

Papal figure: “We are based here across state but we are here representing the vatican as you may know are currently deliberating the future and thus, fate of the Catholic Church as the current Pope has just passed away...”

Rev. Dalton had not heard the now week old news.

“I’m very sorry for your loss, gents. A toast?”

Rev. Dalton gestures a bottle of cheap American lager towards each of the gentlemen who both politely decline.

Papal figure: “...We don’t err... thankyou...”

Rev. Dalton: “Oh, well I might have some club soda here somewhere... let’s see mixers...”

The Reverend attempts to look around the makeshift bar erected for the occasional use of the other fellas who come to play on the pool table.

Papal figure: “...we have actually been trying to contact you for a number of days but to no avail...”

Rev. Dalton: “...I was out of town on a book tour, yes...”

Papal Figure: “Ahh yes, “The Alternative Gospels”, yes....?”

Rev. Dalton: “That’s me... Now, tell me gents. Are you here for a signed copy or are you gonna ask me to be Pope? Noting that I am not actually catholic, I assume it’s something else...”

Papal figure: “We have chosen our Pope already but we need your help in order to aid us in our mission to modify and make the church more accessible to the people. The catholic church has come under much intense scrutiny these last years and we all feel out of touch.”

Rev. Dalton nods along. He looks up at the glass framed embroidery given to him by his great mother, a quote from Leonardo, an early saint in the third century. “It has served us well, this myth of christ.”

Rev. Dalton: “Well, I don’t know why you are here for me guys. It just takes a little more understanding, not reading things too literal, accept that scriptures may have been tampered with along time and realise that gay people are not the devil and contraception is there to protect, y’know you are most of the way there... but I am sure you know that... You don’t need an idiot like me to tell you that...”

The door opens and Diane walks in, still displaying her naked macchiato torso, sweat tinged and bald in parts. She smiles at the guests and turns to the Reverend.

“We’re out of beer, I’m going out for more if you want for anything and I think I have worn Alice out for the evening...”

“I don’t think I’m your man, gentlemen...” the Reverend scoffs, a little embarrased for his guests.