|
|
| Story |
 
|
(Page 2 of 8) Bullets, Whispers & Plastic Roses by Toys de Guzman This was privacy's kingdom and the only guest who frequents this room was God during His daily talk with the usually timid priest.
Usually. For even now as he paced his room – this room so unused to the worries and anxieties born of the world – he wondered how he would bring God's wrath upon the sinner, Babylon's child: Lucille. She was bound to be a sister of the Order of the Nazarene. Jesus was to have her hand in marriage. Serve Him, revere Him. But instead, she eloped with that rascal Boris.
Boris, that ungrateful chameleon – sheltered by his Nazarene church, healing his insanities. And in return? The rascal took off with the church's entire savings. Unsatisfied with his crime, he even corrupted the young mind of Lucille and persuaded her to run off with him.
Father Duarte knew that God had His eyes on them. Like Adam and Eve, they would forever hide from the Lord's seeking gaze in an attempt to cover up their sins, their lust, their nakedness. But the earth would not allow them a haven for their sins. No sanctuary would open its doors for the two.
When Lucille chose to run with him, she ran away from God. Young as she was, it was no excuse for her whorish behavior. Like mother like daughter, thought Father Duarte. Yes, her mother was a food of the streets. One who didn't fear God enough to abandon her child to continue with her sybaritic ways. Father Duarte sought to change her, but she was adamant that she was not a part of God's divine plans, that she had another life to live.
Swallowing his failure, he let her go.
But Father Duarte would not let it happen again. Not with the child. She could still be saved. All that was needed of him was to find her and let God's whip wash away her sins. And then, the Order of the Black Nazarene would take her back again. She would have her home and she would have Jesus as her spouse.
As for the devil's spawn, Boris, he had nothing to offer the kingdom of God. A spoiled fruit, he was. A plague-carrier that would continue to destroy the world when allowed to roam freely. Boris would have to be crucified for his sins. But let the world do that to Boris, he thought. He would not stain his hands with his disease.
Mind made up with his holy quest, Father Duarte left his room, armed only with a bible and a handful of Our Father's. It would not be the first time he left his refuge to walk amongst sinners.
But it would be the first time the world would witness God's servant walk with a clouded and equally darkened mind.
III
It was a peculiar day for Detective Salas.
He stared at the blood stains on the wooden flooring of Room 7 in the Orchid Motel. He knew there should be a body in there, right at the scarlet pool that almost touched his fancy leather shoes. But all that was left was a bloodied imitation of a bed that was slept in. Either the man that lay on that scarlet pool was towed away by his killers, or he just decided to stand up and walk away.
Of the two speculations, the former was more believable.
| |
|
|
|
