NOTE:This is a small excerpt from my story, it actually features people I know in real life (Brandon and Persephanie in this case) and this is the first time I have ever posted this story any where, hope you all enjoy.
Back when I was in high school there was usually one twenty four hour Starbucks in a major city. Now you could find five in Houston alone. It was cold out, still raining and just starting to get dark. The steam from my Cinnamon Dolce Latte warmed my face as I stretched my neck out over the cup.
My hands were clasped around the cup tight to keep them warm. A man in a black fedora was just on the other side of the glass gathering napkins from the small counter, he stepped back outside and came over and then sat down right across from me. He looked up at me through his ice blue eyes.
I inhaled the cinnamon smell of the latte and then spoke, "Father, I feel like all of this being cheerful is getting to me," I paused to sip my drink, it was still very hot, "I feel like I've lost faith or something," I said.
"Why do you feel that way?" he asked in a soft voice as he pushed the napkins over to my side of the table.
"Well because I feel like I haven't got anything righteous left in me, like all of this is taking a toll or something. And what does God want with the non-righteous?" I said.
"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick...but go and learn what this means: 'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.' For I have not come to call the righteous, but the sinners," he rattled it off quickly and immediately I recognized it.
"Matthew?" I asked and he nodded.
"If God thought we could all be righteous on our own he wouldn't have sent the prophets, he wouldn't have sent his only son to us," said the man in fedora.
I sipped on my coffee and then smiled, "I guess that's right, but what do I do to get better?"
"Well what started you feeling like this?" asked the man in the fedora.
"Recently I've noticed Justin is treating this whole thing like its just part of his job…all of the demons he's killed, he used to say it was doing God's work, but I notice he's getting distant, spiritually and emotionally," I stopped.
The man in the fedora ran his hand down the side of his face, through his beard, "I don't understand, how are you coming to that conclusion?"
"Well he's not enthusiastic about doing the right thing, he told Megan what we did 'didn't make a difference' a little while ago, she nearly hit him," I sipped the coffee, it was the only way to keep warm. "With the girls he seems to be somewhere else, Ashley even asked me about it," I paused to clear my throat. "And with me…when we're alone he's not the same, he may try to act the same, but I can just tell something is different. He kisses me like it's a routine and not a sign of Love…"
Now I knew I had divulged too much, my cheeks filled with red heat, blushing.
"Are you afraid there might be another woman?" he asked.
I laughed, "I suppose that would be the concerns of a normal woman," but I was anything but normal, "I'm not worried about that in the least, I am worried that he's losing the capability to love, and by trying to pull him back from there, I'm going in too."
"It's true, this job isn't pretty, and there's little room left optimism when you spend your days looking at the latest escapee from Hell," he told me.
"How have you done this for so long?" I asked.
"When I first became a priest I was just trying to help people, but when I got into the Order of Saint Michael and started fighting I figured it would be my life's work…" he started.
"What happened?" I asked.
"I saved this woman one day, and I never told your husband or anyone else all of this, but she was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen, like I was looking at a small part of God himself. She had the bluest eyes, dark brown hair with white blonde streaks that somehow just seemed to fit, and her skin was flawless and white like snow…" he took a long pause here and pulled his trench coat up around himself. I was listening intently.
Then he started again, "Coincidentally her name was Mary, and after a year of writing each other, talking on the phone and sometimes meeting up with her when I was near I realized that I was in love. I was ready to put my vows aside for her, I was ready to quit the priesthood. But when I went to tell her of this, a demon attacked and it managed to skewer her through. It was a coincidence, your husband had chased the thing for a half a mile, and it just happened that where they fought happened to be the place where she lived, it also just happened that it used her to try and reason with Justin, I put it down quick, only to find out she had been mortally wounded by its barb tail…we shared one kiss before she was gone."
I glared down at the table, "Wow, I just…wow."
"Persephanie, I will tell you this," he started "Things will get dark, they will get very dark, but its when the world around us gets dark that we tend to shine the brightest…" he said.
"But you…you still quit the priesthood, that wasn't even that long after we met you," she said.
"I quit because I failed," he said, "But I still fight with the Order of Saint Michael," he stood up straightening his hat on his head. I could see the long brown hair flowing out from underneath the fedora now.
I glanced up at him, "But do you fight for Love, or because of revenge?" I asked.
"That is hard to tell," he paused and turned away, "I'll give you my answer when I pull the last demon kicking and screaming into Hell." He was gone off into the parking lot where our cars were parked next to each other.
Such a contrast, my Porsche, only three years old; then next to it was his car, a 1967 Chevy Impala, large and boxy with that heavy frame.
I gathered my napkins around the still warm cup and stood up to walk to my car.
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