AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Come with me while Idivest?“ I didn’t go as far as using air quotes, but it was basically implied whenever I used an overtly pastoral word with my dad.
Truthfully, it would take a while before it sunk in that I was a priest. ThatIcould beanyone’sspiritual father.
He nodded, and I helped him up the solea steps, ushering him behind the altar.
Dad was technically Episcopalian and not Greek Orthodox, even though he’d been coming to this church since he’d met my mother.
He couldn’t receive communion in this church, but he was allowed behind the icon screen because he had a penis. It was one of the few dogmatic qualms I had about my religion. Only men were allowed to occupy certain areas and be ordained as clergy. It seemed barbaric to me, especially since, in the early days of the church, women had not been prohibited from serving in those roles. But it was something I could only hope to fight from inside.
Dad followed me around the large stone altar table and into the vestment room. It was nothing but a small, cramped closet with a not-so-temporary clothing rack on one wall. I doubted anything had changed in this room—even the dust bunnies—since the sixties.
Dad looked relieved to get off his feet when I pulled out a chair for him. The service had been long, but this was worrisome.
“You look tired, Dad.” I tried to keep my voice upbeat as I unbuttoned the neck of my cape and lifted the heavy brocade garment over my head. “You’re not still helping George and Bethany, are you?”
“I couldn’t help, even if I wanted to. This treatment’s zapped the rest of my strength. I can hardly lift myself, let alone a mortuary cot.”
“You getting enough to eat? The meals I left for you—”
“I eat plenty, son. Stop worrying.”
I nodded, staring at his gaunt face. I unlaced my cuffs and unbuttoned thesticharion, the gold robe worn beneath the cape.
Dad had another one of his coughing fits while I removed the rest of my liturgical vestments.
I handed him a bottle of water. “Better?”
He nodded, but his face told me a different story. “I’m good. Except that my lungs have stopped working after inhaling almost fifty years worth of embalming fluid in the days before ventilators. I don’t have much of an appetite, despite your newfound cooking skills. And my bones ache and can’t support my body longer than three minutes. Other than that, I’m good.” He stood as I replaced my white liturgical cassock for my everyday black, priest-in-the-wild cassock, theanderí.
“Listen, Dad, I know you like Dr. Sayers, and that’s important. We buried his mom and you’ve already finished a few courses of treatment. You’re loyal, and that’s fine, but I think maybe someone else—”
“Gus…” His eyes pleaded with me for a moment before softening into something else. “You did a fine job today. I still don’t have a clue what this service is all about, but you looked like you knew what you were doing.”
He didn’t want to talk about cancer right now. I got it. Denial was a powerful drug. I wanted to deny his cancer, too. But that didn’t get us into clinical trials.
“You’ve only been coming to church with Ma for thirty-five years. You should probably have the Lord’s prayer memorized in Greek by now, even if you don’t know what the words mean.”
“I know more Greek than you think I do.”
“You’re not helping your case against conversion” I said, tying a side string of my robe.
He chuckled. “You sounded good, too. No mess-ups.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I knew better. The long Cherubic hymn needed a bit more vocal choreography between myself and the choir, butoverall, I was pleased with my first Nativity of the Virgin Mary. It was an important day on the Orthodox calendar. The church was full. Maybe some people would keep attending throughout the rest of the year.
“I better know what I’m doing by now. I’ve only been practicing for five years. Not counting ten years as an altar boy, studying other priests. Though that was more to see what I could get away with when they weren’t looking.”
“Was Vasili ever not looking?”
“No.” I smiled. “He has eyes in the back of his head.”
He smiled, nodding, his head dropping low on his shoulders as he studied his shoes. “He always knew how to set you boys on the right track.” He raised his head, looking into my eyes with sincerity and sadness. “I’m glad he was there for you. Even when I wasn’t. And I wasn’t there for you a lot. Don’t think I don’t know it. Or regret every one of those lost minutes.” He sniffed. “Not that apologies make it better.”
“You were there, Dad.” I gathered the length of my robe to sit on the desk facing my father. “You were just busy. Working. A hard job. An impossible job. You’re basically a public servant. It’s not like you ran out on Ma and left us. You never deserted us—emotionally or otherwise—never let us suffer for any reason. You never even raised your voice—not even to Ma, and you know how wrong she can be. Stubborn about it, too.”
“Just because you’re grown, doesn’t mean you can speak ill of your mother.”
“I’m just saying... Remember that time she got the names Christodoulopoulos and Christoyiannopoulos mixed up, and she sent you to pick up the poor man who’d just started in-home hospice?”
