while the characters are an artistic creation.
I also thank Melora and Hannah James for their assistance with research and art creations. I thank Roger Nebel who helped with the research for this book. I thank the Rev. Bill Roberts wrote the introduction for this novel.
During my PhD dissertation research, I researched at the Vatican library and I thank all of those who made this possible.
List of Characters
Oscar: Homeless singing man
Bishop Daniel Cahill: Bishop of Washington, DC
Monsignor Peter: Rector at St. Charles Parish, Washington, DC
Father Luke: Assistant priest at St. Charles Parish
Father Jerry: Italian priest at St. Charles Parish studying to be a Jesuit priest
Hannah Bigelow: Church administrator at St. Charles Parish
Sister Clotilde: Nun at St. Charles Parish
Father Bruce: Diocesan priest in small parish in Washington, DC
Father Hudson: Rector of large Roman Catholic Church in Washington, DC
Rev. Dr. David Sanchez: Vatican Canon lawyer
The priest dressed himself: snug dark blue T-shirt, Levi jeans, and a red Nationals baseball cap partially pulled down over his face. Calling his contact in the diocese, he heard again the plans.
“Two of them for all of us. Tonight in northeast Washington, DC at Stanton Park in the playground area. At our magic midnight.”
“How much?” he asked.
“Five hundred. Your discretionary fund has plenty. I will meet you later.”
The priest paused. “There is no harm in this, right? Only occasionally do I get to do this.”
His acquaintance heard the pleading tone of voice and answered with words of comfort, “Of course not, Father. I will hear your confession tomorrow morning. And these enthusiastic workers get some needed money.”
Relieved, he hung up and started planning for the rendezvous so near the Capitol Building—both sex and power involved with this evening. And now with a few anticipatory drinks, the priest began his frivolities.
Late that evening, he entered one of the six gates leading into the circular park lined by cherry blossom trees with tiny buds. He walked past the central statue of Revolutionary War hero Nathaniel Green on his horse with his upraised arm pointing energetically toward the playground. The priest’s goal? The playground jungle gym with its large, raised platform. This playful atmosphere, surrounded by safety walls, concealed and allowing a happy view of the stars. Who would have thought of such a perfect place for a party? A discreet city park, surrounded by green boxwoods and pink flowers, full of memories of happy and innocent children. Then he saw her, a young Hispanic girl with long beautiful dark hair standing outside the gate. The priest walked up behind her and without a word began stroking her. Screaming, her terror brought running friends. In a blazing second, even through his drunken haze, the cleric realized his mistake.
Quickly two men swung their fists at him. Blow after blow rained upon the drunken priest. Then a man rode his bicycle from the opposite end of Stanton Park. Dressed entirely in solemn black, the letters on his t-shirt announced US Capitol Police.
“The police! Let’s get out of here!” one said. They dropped the beaten man near the playground equipment. The priest faintly heard the shocked eruption, “That’s the priest at my family’s church!” Then only running footsteps filled the air.
Dazed, the priest blacked out, while the unnoticing policeman calmly cycled past him.
Soon the pummeled cleric heard the faint sound of humming in his ear. Then an old spiritual song clearly emerged, “My Lord, what a morning, when the stars begin to fall!”
Opening his eyes, he saw a well-known man, Oscar, smiling and singing to him. Wincing, the priest looked at his growing bruises and felt his aching head.
Then reaching his cell phone, he pressed the speed dial.
“May day. Beaten up in the park.”
“What happened?”
“Hurry!”
Soon a tall man entered the playground.
“Can you walk?”
“Some.”
“Let’s get out of here. We’ll say strep throat in isolation until you heal. Your face looks bad.”
Chapter One
What happens when a priest falls? They have reached up, hoping to touch God and move into heaven, hoping against hope that they will find the gracious gift of endless ecstasy and join the family of saints—the Church Triumphant. Yet this long spiritual journey contains tests and trials. Some fall.
Priests had kept generations of the Roman Catholic faithful at St. Charles Parish in Washington, DC. Veering between issues of faith and politics, three priests from the Society of the Cross led this unusual flock. The Marines of the Catholic Church, their community offered both intellectual rigor and personal piety.
Their motto suited them: “All for the greater glory of God.”
Their boys’ Catholic school produced some scholars that later attended Georgetown University, located so close to the parish, prominently placed on a hill in this vibrant city.
Monsignor Peter Dawkins led this parish. On this spring day, Peter weeded the red tulip beds with a local man they called Oscar Hammerstein. Hats shading their eyes, they looked as if they were caring for the original Garden of Eden. Oscar sang as he gardened, “This little light of mine! I’m goin’ let it shine!”
This unusual homeless character could speak no words, probably due to a stroke. To communicate he sang lots of spirituals and folk songs. His charm opened many doors. He seemed to know every popular song ever written. Peter gave him a small room on the first floor of the parish rectory, announcing to Oscar, “Our bishop’s church needs your protection.”
Today Peter chatted with Oscar. “What a beautiful day in this early spring!” Hannah, the church administrator, walked by, dressed in a business suit and talking on her cell phone. Oscar sang to her, “All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small, the Lord God made them all!”
Smiling, she waved.
Hearing these jovial sounds, another priest, Father Jerry, walked out, bearing from his kitchen small cups of espresso on a tray. He placed them on a bench next to the giant replica of the Roman sculpture of the Capitoline wolf, the giant mother wolf guarding her human twins, Romulus and Remus.
Trailing behind Jerry, Father Luke questioned him. “Now that we have a Jesuit pope, shouldn’t we do Saint Ignatius’s Spiritual Exercises? We read Teresa of Avila last Lent.”
Jerry raised his hand, as if to exclaim in Italian, Splendido!
Seeing
