The Confession Booth

Ian Lloyd walked down the center aisle of Saint Monica's Catholic Church, passing by the white plaster columns and empty wooden pews. Moonlight streamed through the stained glass windows, faintly illuminating his pale blond hair. His green eyes were fixed on the coffin that lay beneath the altar area, half-open. On the half that was closed were lit candlesticks, but their light was so little that it barely affected the darkness of the church. The candles did, however, provide enough light for Ian to look down at the dead priest in the coffin.

Father Emil Long had died that day. It was sad, but not tragic, for he had been ninety years old, and he had been actively serving the parish up until his death. Only a few days ago, he had delivered a sermon at the pulpit which loomed above his coffin. He had been a good priest, a good man, and the parish rightfully grieved him. Ian thought randomly that he hoped to have such thick white hair as Father Emil did now if he lived to be so old. Even the thick wrinkles on his face seemed to have been caused by years of giving a friendly smile to everyone. Despite the memories of a priest who had always been kind to him, however, Ian reached into the coffin and pulled the gold watch from the priest's chest.

Ian smiled, turning the watch over in his own warm hands. There was no sense for the priest to take such a thing to his grave. After all, though it had been a gift from the parish, should not a priest religiously give over his wealth to others? He would not have admitted it to himself, but a small part of him was relieved that the priest had died that week. He thought, though he was not sure, that Father Emil had caught sight of him stealing from the coin collection for the poor. Every time Ian had done this, he had tried to make it look as if he were putting money into the collection and not taking out some for himself. He had stolen the money many times and not been caught, but just for a moment, he was sure Father Emil had seen him.

Ian glanced around himself instinctively to make sure no one else was there. But he was alone, though he would not be for long. The only reason it was open so late that night was that the priest's relatives had made a last-minute flight and would be arriving soon. Father Stephen, the assistant priest, was in his office in another part of the church and would be welcoming the visitors. He knew that Father Emil was to be buried with his watch, and if he saw Ian in the church and the watch gone, it would not be long before he figured out that he, Ian, was the thief.

He pocketed the watch, but before leaving the priest's side, he saw the face of Jesus staring down at him from his large crucifix in the altar. Ian shuddered and looked away, a feeling of dread coming over him as if God were condemning his action. But this dread, he thought, was simply the guilt that the church had trained him to feel when committing what it considered a sin. I am not sinning, thought Ian, only surviving as a poor man.

He hurried down the aisle to the double glass doors that led outside into the parking lot, but he did not leave the church. He saw a minivan, and five people were climbing out of it. They were the priest's relatives, and the assistant priest was now walking out to meet with them. He would bring them inside. Ian dived into the nearest dark corner and crouched down, slowing his breath so that they could not hear the slightest sound from him. He heard them coming, the doors rattled, and - they did not open. They rattled again, but still Ian remained the only living being in the church. The doors were locked.

Ian was so relieved he did not, at first, wonder how the doors could possibly be locked when they had been open earlier. He had come in without any trouble. When the footsteps and voices had died away, he crawled on his hands and knees towards the doors. He looked out and saw no one. He concluded that the assistant priest had taken the relatives to his office where he no doubt had a key to the church doors. It was his chance to leave, and he jumped at the doors, which could normally be opened from the inside even if locked to outside visitors. But to his dismay, the doors would not open for him.

He rattled and banged the doors, panicked enough that he did not care if Father Stephen and a whole army of relatives discovered him. For some reason, he knew that he needed to get out of the church, and fast. Giving up on the double doors, he heard a noise and pivoted around in time to see Father Emil sitting upright in his coffin. He grasped the candlesticks and blew out all of them except one. This last one he held as he flung open the closed half of the coffin, scattering the other candlesticks to the floor. Climbing carefully out, Father Emil now stood, candle in hand, gazing with cold blue eyes at Ian.

Ian watched the priest's corpse amble down the aisle, and he threw the watch onto the ground, exclaiming angrily, "Take it, you greedy miser."

Father Emil did not stop coming towards him, and he ignored the watch, which was smashed to pieces on the floor. Ian had no choice to run, but he knew he had nowhere to go. Except for the doors, there were no other openings. Then, when Father Emil was within feet of him, he saw the confessional booths, and he charged into one, slamming its doors shut. He tried to find a way to lock it, but having never been in one, he learned then that the only way to prevent anyone from coming in was to lean his whole body against the door. He expected the priest to try and force his way in - to do what to him he did not know, but he knew he did not want the priest's dead hands touching him in the least.

But the corpse did not try his door. In fact, he heard movement in the booth next to him, the door shut quietly, and a creaking as of someone sitting down. In addition to being petrified, he was bewildered for a full minute. He did not move but stared at the partition separating him and Father Emil. Then he understood.

Remembering what a friend of his had told him about confession, he began, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

He heard no response, but he assumed he should continue.

"I have been stealing from the coin collection for a year now. I also stole your watch."

Ian rambled for a few minutes, and it was not until he was finished that he realized how badly he had lived his life. For the first time he felt remorse and an appreciation for Father Emil himself.

When he could think of nothing else to confess, he said, "That's all, Father. That's all I can think of right now. Thanks for listening," he added humbly.

There was another sound of creaking, the door opened and closed, and Ian knew Father Emil was returning to his coffin. Though he was a better man, he had no wish to see the corpse again, and he stayed where he was until the corpse had had enough time to lie back down. He was about to leave the confessional when he heard the double doors open and Father Stephen apologizing profusely to the grieving family.

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to find the key. I never lose it and it's usually in the right place. Anyway, I really thought the doors were unlocked."

Ian waited until everyone left the church half an hour later. They had missed the broken watch in the dark; puzzled over the coffin, which was fully open instead of half-closed like earlier; and almost tripped over the candlesticks on the floor. Then they were gone. Ian stepped out of the confessional and left through the double doors.