(To Connor McManus)
Late afternoon sunlight streamed through stained glass, turning the sleepy stillness of the church into a moment of rapt glory. Connor paused as he slipped out of the confessional booth, awestruck by the sight. His hand rose and made the sign of the cross automatically; his lips moved to thank God for creating a scene of such beauty. All praise was His...
But there was work to be done, so after a moment�s enjoyment he turned away from the dancing light and walked back to the little office he shared with Father Stephen.
His mentor glanced up and smiled at him. �Ah, Connor. How was confession today?�
He shrugged, smiling shyly as he took a seat by the desk. �Typical, I suppose...still not quite used to taking them instead of doing the confessing.�
�It�ll come with time.� The older priest turned back to his paperwork. �Oh, by the way, your brother stopped by. Looking for you.�
Connor blinked and stared down at his hands. They seemed to have clenched together without any conscious will on his part. With an effort he relaxed them. �Did he say what he needed?�
Father Stephen made a small note in the margin of the top page. �No, he didn�t...but he said he�d be home all afternoon if you had some time.�
�I�m afraid I don�t, Father, you know that. You should�ve told him,� Connor said reproachfully, �there�s so much to do...�
The older man made another note and set the papers aside, then selected another file. �Go,� he said calmly, lifting his bifocals up to see more clearly. �There�s nothing that can�t wait till tomorrow. And Murphy seemed troubled. He wants to talk to you.�
Connor looked blankly at the wood grain of the desk. Lately it seemed that he and Murphy could talk all day and never understand a word. Ever since Connor had taken up the collar, there�d been a gap between them; that was only to be expected. But lately it seemed they couldn�t even see each other in the distance anymore...
�Go.� Father Stephen�s voice wasn�t unkind, but it was firm. He pointed to the door. �Go talk to your brother. I�ll see you bright and early tomorrow.�
Connor swallowed. �All right then.� He nodded, more to himself than Stephen, and went to leave.
�Compassion,� Father Stephen said softly, apparently apropos of nothing. Connor paused, blinking, then walked on.
***
�Hey.�
�You don�t have to look so surprised,� Connor muttered, brushing past his brother into the apartment. �You asked Father Stephen to have me come see you, and I�m here.�
�I didn�t ask him to have you come see me.� Murph shut the door a little harder than necessary. �I told him to tell you where I�d be if you had the time. Terribly sorry to inconvenience you, brother.�
�I didn�t mean it like that, Murph.� Connor felt the familiar tense ache starting in his shoulders and temples. Did it always have to turn into this? Right from the moment he stepped in the door? �I always have time for you.�
�That�s a laugh,� his brother muttered, stalking over to where his jacket hung and fumbling through the pockets for his cigarettes. �You haven�t had the time of day for me since you headed off to seminary.�
�It�s a calling, Murphy, not a hobby,� Connor said, suddenly very tired. He flopped down on the ragged couch. �I�m sorry it�s not like old times anymore, but everyone�s got to grow up sometime, you know.�
�Save the lecture, I�ve heard it a few times,� his twin snapped, but he tossed the cigarettes and lighter Connor�s way. As Con lit up, Murph studied him critically. �You look well,� he said finally. �Got over that flu you had?�
�Aye.� Connor tossed the pack back to him. �I�m fine.� It was his turn to look his brother from top to toe. �You�re looking a bit tired,� he said at length. �Everything all right?�
Murph shrugged and settled himself on the window ledge, staring out over the city. �Been busy lately.�
�At work?�
�Well, that.� Murph blew a long stream of smoke at the floor. �And some other things.�
Something in his voice made Connor look up. �What sort of other things?� He stared at his twin�s profile, harsh and jagged against the dirty white walls. Murphy had lost weight; he wondered how long that had been going on. �You�re not in trouble, are you, Murph?�
�Christ, no.� He was up now, pacing the floor in agitated motion. �You always fucking assume the worst of me. We can�t all be saints like you, you know...�
�Murphy.� He tried to put some of the priestly authority he didn�t feel yet into his voice. �Calm down, I�m not assuming anything. I�m just worried, because you�re all worked up and you wanted to talk to me, but now that I�m here, you�re not talking.�
�Maybe I wanted to talk to my brother, not a fucking Father.� He kicked at the wall, refusing to look at Connor, who felt a flash of irritation. Murphy very much resembled a sulky child at the moment.
He swallowed hard before speaking. �I�m always your brother. That�s never going to change.� He hesitated, then went on. �And the Father can help you, if you�ll open your heart to Him.�
�Aw, Christ, don�t fucking preach at me,� Murphy sneered, stubbing his cigarette out against the wall. �I don�t want to hear it.�
�Losing your faith, Murphy?� He couldn�t keep the disappointment out of his voice.
His twin shrugged, walking over to stare out the window again. �You always had enough for both of us. Maybe you had my share all along, and I was just going through the motions.� He glanced back over his shoulder, then quickly back to the city outside. �I�ve been spending a lot of time with Rocco. You remember Rocco?�
Connor nodded slowly. �Aye. Crazy Italian loudmouth, runner for the mob.�
�He�s a good guy.� Murphy nodded slowly, squinting out over the rooftops.
�He�s a mobster.�
�But a good man.� They were silent for a tense moment as both realized neither was going to budge on the contradiction. Murphy turned abruptly and got himself another smoke, then tossed the supplies to Connor again. Con caught them and helped himself; tiny peace offerings, he�d take what he could get...
�Roc thinks he can get me a place.�
Connor blinked. �What?�
�A place. A job, working for Joe Yakavetta.� Murphy was looking out the window again. It wouldn�t get said if he could see the disappointment in Connor�s eyes.
�Don�t do it, Murph.�
�Fuck you.�
�It would be a terrible mistake.� Connor stood up, went to touch his brother, but Murphy pulled away.
�Don�t judge me, Connor,� he said, beginning to pace the apartment again. �Don�t you dare judge me.�
�What�s wrong with working at the plant? Are you losing your money somehow? What�s going on?� Connor knew that questioning was only going to make Murphy angrier, but he couldn�t stop himself.
�It�s not about the money,� Murphy snapped, waving his hand in disgust. �I don�t care about the money.�
�Then what is it?� Connor was honestly baffled. �Why do you want to work with that sort of evil? What is it about, if it�s not about the money?�
Murphy met his eyes at last, and Connor thought his heart would stop at the lost, hopeless look there. �It�s about belonging somewhere, Connor,� he said softly. �It�s about having brothers by my side. Brothers in arms, since my brother in blood walked away from me.�
He felt like he was drowning, could barely squeeze the air from his lungs to speak. �I never...�
�I don�t blame you, Con. Not when I really consider it, instead of just blind feeling.� Murphy�s voice was steady. Connor had a feeling Murph had rehearsed these words. �I know you heard the call of God, and I can�t begrudge you that. It�s only right you love God more than me. I know that in my head.� He swallowed hard, and his voice got a bit rougher. The practiced lines were more difficult now. �But in my heart...� Tears appeared, glittering brightly in blue eyes. �You went off to your saints and your God and you left me here. You left me all alone and you never even looked back for me.�
�Murphy...� Choking, dying. Nothing he could say.
His twin blinked twice and turned away. He walked slowly across the little apartment, hands on hips, gathering himself again. �So.�
Connor blinked back a sudden stinging in his own eyes. �Aye.�
�I just wanted to tell you myself.�
�I...appreciate that.� His throat hurt, felt rough and closed when he spoke.
�You probably want to go now.�
�I�d just as soon stay.�
There was silence for a moment. Murphy didn�t look back.
�I think I�d rather you go.�
�Are you sure that�s what you want?� Connor felt something swelling within his chest. There was an awful, tense finality gathering in the room.
Something was dying.
Murphy nodded slowly. �I�m sure.�
Slowly, painfully, Connor turned to go. �Come by the church if you ever need anything,� he said, throwing a final effort at peace into the air.
�I won�t darken your threshold.� There was bitter mocking in Murphy�s voice. It froze what was left of Connor�s heart.
�There�s light for all in God�s house,� he said through numb lips, reaching for the door knob.
�Is there.� Suddenly the bitterness was gone, and Murph just sounded tired. Connor glanced back over his shoulder and found his twin looking at him with sad and weary eyes. �I can�t walk the same path you do, Connor. It�s not made for me.�
�I never asked you to walk in step with me, only to meet me at the end,� Connor said softly, wishing the angry pride would falter enough for him to take his hurting brother in his arms.
�Aye.� Tears glittered again in bright blue eyes. Connor�s breath caught, willing them to fall, because then he could catch his twin again.
�Will you keep a candle lit for me, then?�
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