All happy endings really. I started a course in law at college. Nothing much happened. I got into practice of being a trainee solicitor and graduated happily. I drank and I partied. I worked at a bar and I worked on my studies. My father eventually spoke to me although it was always as a result of pressure from Nonna.
Occasionally I drove past the seminary when I had to go and observe cases at the courthouse and tried to see something but the white-washed walls always held their secrets. I thought of the long corridors and the narrow sleeping quarters. I thought Daniel and his rosary and his leaping away from me in the corridor. I even thought of the other priest who had fucked me and wondered what he was doing but mainly I thought of the intensity of Daniel and the pang of jealousy that I couldn't attain that purity.
Anyway the odd thing was only the way back from one deadly dull court case (neighbours rowing over a dog in the yard) listening to the radio and swearing constantly because I had had a rough week filled with essays, boring observations and heavy caseloads that need a lot of background reading. I I passed the seminary, stopped at a crossing and I saw him there, sat on one of the ornamental benches near the driveway. Sat, clad in all the robes they made you pile on when you had done your wine and wafers, and just looking up at the half-clouded sky hands with a book � I'd be willing to bet money on the bible � and a rosary on his lap.
All of the sudden I felt wretched. I was in my car swearing at the mundane world and regretting ever coming to college and was he, in his vestments with his rosary staring up at the sky communicating with God. He looked like the very picture of the embodiment of faith and I was jealous. I was the Devil Child who had tainted this place and attempted to taint this man. I gripped the steering wheel and thought I was going to be sick.
I pulled over and gathered myself together. I was being stupid and beating myself up. I had had one of the familiar short, sharp conversations with my father this week and it had set me off. Taking deep breaths I reached out and checked my phone. One voicemail from Nonna, one from Mom and two texts from the guy I kind of had an on and off thing with. His name could have been Richard but I wasn't sure. We had met at a bar and when neither of us was hooked up we met and screwed for the hell of it. I guess his latest twink must seen the light and run the mile.
I looked out the window again before I drove away. Daniel was still there, only this time looked different from before. This time I saw the eyes that were slightly swollen as if he'd been rubbing them furiously. His rosary was moving through his fingers like lightning and he was murmuring. He no longer looked calm and beatific � he looked desperate. He was sweating too; a light shine across his face and several of those blond spikes were wet. I wondered what had happened.
Another priest came out with a smile on his face. Father Jones. Good man. Old school fire and brimstone type but with a wicked sense of humour and a genuine cheerfulness that children simply adored. He put his hand on Daniel's shoulder and I watched the man jerk suddenly. He nodded and rose up � a little awkwardly in the swathes of cloth and brushed down his alb. He smiled and nodded at Father Jones.
Suddenly his eyes met mine.
We stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime. Really it was a matter of seconds. His first look was one of surprise and then very slightly accusatory. I inclined my head with a smile and I could see the relief flow from him in waves. I wasn't here to expose him � those eyes told me. He was relieved. My cellphone started to ring again. Like a puppet I waved jerkily to Daniel who actually waved back, fired up the car and answered the phone on my handsfree.
"Hello?"
"Jo-Jo" Nonna "I managed to get somebody. That nice lady at that place gave me a list of gay doctors."
Nonna - after hearing that one of her friends son's friend's roomate might be HIV Positive � had been on at me for a long time to get thoroughly tested for. Although I always used condoms I began to see her point. However I had soon found that living in a "Seminary Town" in the middle of Catholic land made a doctors appointment a very carefully prepared mission and some fairly intensive questioning.
So Nonna in her own special, stubborn, eighty year old way had inveistgated some possible routes, asked around at her social club anf got a few places I always marvelled at her ingenuity but I think she liked the magnitude and the attention of having a Gay Grandson. She had then taken herself off to some clinic run by as she described "some nice lesbian girls who I think a saw a lad who couldn't make up his mind" and gone hunting for a gay-friendly doctor.
� and found one apparently.
"Next county over." Came the chirpy voice "I'm going to make you an appointment so you have to go, bambino � none of your wriggling."
"So who did you pick from this magic list, Nonna?" I had images of a Blind Date style stage and a host introducing the three candidates.
"One of the lesbians told me he was very nice so I went for him � not that she would know." Typical Nonna. I rounded a corner heading back towards the house thinking happily about the friendly wave Daniel � no Father Daniel now � had given me.
"His name's Doctor Anand Singh."