The Eavesdropper

The congregation bowed their heads in reverent reflection as the Vicar droned on about the evils of sin and the ultimate reward for the righteous. His ability to preach about topics they had recently been thinking about baffled them. This week's sermon covered infidelity and the desires of the flesh versus chastity and faithful adherence to wedding vows. As he delved deeper into the subject, several women shifted uneasily on the church pew. Multiple men adjusted their gaze to the floor and refused to look up. They all felt as though he was addressing them directly. How could he sense what was on their minds?

The congregants had no way of knowing that the Vicar was privy to their most secret thoughts. Whether it was a gift from God or a curse placed on him by Satan, this man of the cloth would never know. The ability manifested itself when he was a teenager working as a stable boy. A stubborn horse kicked him in the head, rendering him unconscious. When he finally came to, the volume of voices in his mind nearly drove him mad. In time, he learned to tune out the constant chatter and fine tune the voices. Now, he had access to everyone's deepest thoughts.

As the Vicar continued his sermon, he scanned the faithful, listening in on their thoughts. One constant in Victorian London was everyone knew their station in life. He had little interest in those sitting in the back pews. They were laborers, commercial fishers, shopkeepers, and members of society's great unwashed. He knew their thoughts, even without his gift, because he grew up poor. Their thoughts and prayers were always the same. Will I have enough money to buy food? My child needs new shoes. Yes, their thoughts were always consumed with life's drudgeries.

It was the well-dressed gentry who populated the front third of the church that held his interest. Their thoughts were about social gatherings, business dealings, or traveling abroad. The occasional tawdry affair always piqued his curiosity. One or more of them were always planning a trip to the Continent or the Americas. He may not live their lifestyle, but he could experience it through their minds.

It was his questionable gift that made him the center of attention at after service get-togethers. He would never openly share what he learned from his parishioners' minds, but he always offered just enough information to fuel the gossip mill. People were astounded at how often his musings came true. In private conversations away from church, his parishioners pondered one question. Could the good Vicar possibly read minds?

Children always offered honest and refreshing thoughts. The young boy in the fifth row, seated between his mother and grandmother, searched for a friend he always played with after church. He wasn't the least bit interested in what the Vicar had to say. His mother, looking pious, was thinking about the dinner party she would attend later that evening. She wondered if there might be a single man in attendance that would keep her company for the night. Her husband was on a three-week business trip on the Continent, and she was sure he wasn't sleeping alone.

Seated directly behind the boy was a pretty young woman. She half sat, half knelt, the way most well-dressed women did when it was time to pray. Although her eyes were closed at the moment, she couldn't help stealing a glance at the handsome gentleman kneeling beside her. She had never seen him before but was inexplicably drawn to the stranger. An animal magnetism emanated from him. The powerful force captivated her. She longed to know who he was, and if he was single.

The impeccably dressed man knelt, clutching a prayer book. He pressed his head firmly against the book, as if attempting to transfer the contents directly into his brain. The cause of his intense concentration was a contentious conversation between two opposing entities. Both personalities doing their best to gain dominance over the other.

"Why have you brought us here? You know there is no salvation for the likes of you."

"There is no us! I should have never let you into my mind, but I will rid myself of you if it's the last thing I do."

"It's too late for that, my good man. You have partaken of the pleasures I introduced to you and there is no going back. Admit it! I'm here because I represent your true nature."

The young woman shifted from her kneeling position to fully seated. She adjusted her dress and not so inadvertently rubbed against the handsome gentleman.

Smiling demurely, she said in hushed tones, "Pardon me, Sir. I didn't mean to disturb you."

The gentleman stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "That's quite alright, Miss. Someone as lovely as yourself may disturb me anytime she likes."

She blushed slightly. "Thank you for the compliment, Sir, but we are in church."

"Of course, my lady. Please forgive me."

The dueling personalities once again took control of the man's mind.

"She will be our entertainment for the evening."

"Stop! I won't be a party to any more of this debauchery. You can no longer control me."

The internal struggle abruptly stopped.

"Quiet! Can you feel that? Someone is listening to us."

"Yes! I sense it as well. Who are you? Identify yourself, interloper."

Dead quiet followed. Eventually, the Vicar's voice broke the silence—not from the pulpit, but directly into the man's mind.

"How are you able to feel my presence? No one has ever detected me before."

"I'm not sure I can explain it," said the man's righteous ego to the intruder.

"Explaining it is unnecessary," the man's evil side replied. "If he can hear us, then he knows who we are and what we've done. He is a threat and must be eliminated. I'm certain you can agree with me on this, my good doctor."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Hyde, I must agree. We'll be seeing you soon, Vicar."