Irises (14 page)

Someone in back of the church said “Amen.” Kate saw Simon turn to see who it was. Reverend Soto continued, his voice softer now. “Elsewhere He says, ‘If any man wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, and day by day let him take up his cross and follow me.' Love is the denial of self. We must choose what is best for others first, regardless of whether it hurts us or not, regardless of whether it hurts them or not. For the truth of love may at times even require us to hurt the people we love. We need to be awakened, sometimes through pain, to recognize the true nature of love.”

Kate moved closer to Simon. On her other side, Mary was drawing pointed geometric figures. She had said that sometimes she drew what she heard. Now Kate saw that maybe she had been telling the truth. When Father preached, Mary made circles within circles and designs the shape of petals, but the triangles and pointed shapes she was drawing now seemed to go hand in hand with the intense voice of Reverend Soto. He was certainly a more dynamic speaker than Father.

“Now hear this: We don't want to be awakened. We prefer to doze on with our weak love. This sentiment we call love is not love. It's something else: obligation; duty; security; good, nice feelings. But Jesus calls for a love that engages our whole being, our mind and heart and body. This love I'm talking about is so great that it can't possibly come from us.”

Kate lost track of the sermon for a few moments. He had looked at her at the precise moment that he said the word
love
, and while it was surely a coincidence, something about this sent a shiver through her. Now he was talking about the nature of freedom and duty, and how they too related to love. “Love is not just what we are
obligated
to do. It is not just what w
e
have
to
do. Love is also what we
want
to do. It is what we ha
ve to
do and what we want to do with all the power of our being.”

Kate tried to make sense of what he was saying, but it was hard for her to concentrate. As Reverend Soto preached, a few more people here and there in the congregation were saying “Amen,” pronouncing the word the Spanish way:
Ahhh-men
.
A ki
nd of electricity filled the air, or it traveled through her veins, she wasn't sure which.

“To be free, we must first recognize our own poverty, our own dependence. To receive His love, we must first see and feel our need for His love. And when His love is offered, it is up to us to obey. How do we know what He wants from us? He shows us His will in feelings, in images, in our peace, in our discomfort, in our restlessness, in the words of our friends and enemies, in signs only we can interpret. Where our heart is touched, there is His will. He uses the needs of others to show us what we must do.”

A part of Kate wanted to move to the rhythm of Reverend Soto's voice, while another part wanted to hold still, to hold the feeling in. She saw the people around her rapt, afraid to miss a single word from his lips. Some had their eyes closed. Some were nodding at his questions, and some were standing and raising their arms to heaven.

“Ultimately, to be free, to accept the truth that will set us free, is to let the Spirit of God act through us. ‘If any man must follow me, let him deny himself and day by day take up his cross.' That is the test of love, isn't it? Am I denying myself? Am I putting others first? Am I taking up my daily cross? Am I giving myself away, day by day? To love is to be willing to sacrifice. That's the truth! The truth of love, the truth of sacrifice, will set you free.”

Kate remained very still. She saw Reverend Soto's eyes fall on her again, and for a moment she felt as if he had spoken directly to her, as if the whole sermon had been meant for her, urging acceptance of a truth that was unlike any truth she had ever heard. She could feel Simon next to her, indecisive as to
whether he should stand or remain seated, watching to see what
she would do. Mary had begun to draw a chain of circles.

Then the rhythm of Reverend Soto's voice became slower and a hush descended on the church. He spoke in a soft tone, almost a whisper. “I will make you this promise: For however long I am with you, I will always tell you the truth. Truth is what I'm here for. I know some of you think I'm too young and inexperienced. ‘What does he know of truth?' you ask. But truth does not have anything to do with age or experience. It is God's truth that I convey, not mine. That's where my confidence and strength come from. I am but a vehicle for God's truth.”

Reverend Soto paused and waited for total silence. Then he went on, looking directly at Kate and Mary. “I want to acknowledge here before his daughters all the good that Reverend Romero did for this church. We are all indebted to him for his life, the same he gave to this church. We are grateful for his kindness. He was a sweet man, a saintly man. I ask that you not judge me by the standards he set. I'm not here to be sweet or saintly. I'm here to tell you the truth, and the truth is harsh sometimes.”

Someone in the back yelled “Amen,” and then Reverend Soto sat down while the usher took up the collection. When the service was over, he walked down the aisle and smiled at Kate as he passed her.

They waited for Mrs. Alvarado's music to end and then they stood. Kate saw in Mary's face an unusual expression of anger. She was sure that Mary was upset about what Reverend Soto had said about Father. Had not Father also told the congregation the truth? Mary wadded the piece of paper she had been drawing on and dropped it on the pew.

“That was some sermon, huh?” Simon said as they filed into the aisle.

“Yeah, some sermon,” Kate responded absentmindedly. She felt disoriented, confused. If the sermon was directed at her, what was he trying to tell her?

“I'm going out the back way,” Mary said. “I'll meet you at home .”

“Okay.” Kate wished she too could skip the greeting. Already she saw people coming to talk to her.

Mr. Cisneros was the first to approach her. He was in his late seventies, and whenever possible, he had driven Father to his pastoral visits so he wouldn't have to take a cab. Father called him his right-hand man. He gave Kate a hug and shook Simon's hand. “We haven't seen you since the funeral. We were worried,” he said loudly. Mr. Cisneros was totally deaf in one ear and had a hearing aid in the other.

“Thank you,” Kate said. “How have you been, Mr. Cisneros?” She called him Mr. Cisneros despite years of his insisting that she call him Manny.

“Oh, not the same since your father died. I don't have nothing to do. I used to feel useful when he was around.”

“I'm sure Reverend Soto can find something for you to do.”

“Pssh,” Mr. Cisneros said, as if swatting a fly from his face. “Everyone here seems to be gaga over him. I like my ministers to be a little older. I think I'm going to go back to being a Catholic. These Holy Rollers are too much for me.” People in front of them turned around to look at them. Everyone in the
church probably heard Mr. Cisneros's statement. Simon laughed
outright. Kate smiled and put her index finger to her lips.

“Oh, who cares who hears me?” Mr. Cisneros winked first at Kate and then at Simon. “If you want me to take you anyplace, you or Mary, you let me know
— I mean, if this young man is not available. It'll give me something to do.” Mr. Cisneros winked again and exited through the back door.

All the longtime members of the church came to greet Kate and Simon. The line moved slowly. The greetings were, as Kate suspected, laced with curiosity. “What are you girls going to do now? Will you go live with your aunt? How will you be able to take care of Catalina?”

“We're going to be okay,” Kate answered. She tried to avoid answering the questions directly. She was aware that many of the questioners automatically thought that Kate would marry Simon and Simon would take care of them.
People
like
Simon
,
Kate thought. It was funny that she had never valued that before. People saw them as perfect for each other.

Mrs. Alvarado closed up the organ, came up the side aisle, and crossed over to talk to them. She expressed her hope that Kate would once again join the choir like old times. “Now more than ever,” Mrs. Alvarado went on, “you need to sing. In singing you can express your sorrow.”

“I'll think about it. I promise you,” Kate told her. She remembered how hard it had been to get out of the choir in the first place.

“Simon.” Mrs. Alvarado grabbed Simon's arm. “Convince her to come back to choir. You've heard her sing. And you should come, too! We have hardly any men, as you can see.”

“I sing like a frog,” Simon said, laughing.

“Well, then you'll sing bass.” Then, turning to Kate, she
exclaimed, “God, what a sermon! We're all hoping that Reverend
Soto can stay with us. He's something else, isn't he?”

Kate nodded.

With that, Mrs. Alvarado said good-bye. Reverend Soto was two couples away.

“What's bass?” Simon asked.

“Someone whose voice sounds like a frog,” Kate quipped.

Being tall and thin, Reverend Soto hunched over as he shook people's hands. He straightened up as soon as Kate stepped in front of him. She felt his penetrating gaze travel to the pit of her stomach. He took her hand in his two hands and it seemed to her his hands were unusually warm.

Kate's mind went blank. She thought about telling him what a great sermon he gave but she wasn't sure how she felt about the sermon. He was still holding on to her hand, and a current of electricity ran through her again. It was Reverend Soto who spoke first.

“Kate,” he said. “Welcome. I'm glad you came.” His voice was softer and more personal than the voice he used in his sermon. Then he let go of her hand and cordially shook Simon's before turning back to her. “I would like to come to your house for a visit,” he said. “It would be good to talk. I haven't had a chance to talk to you and your sister since the funeral.”

“Okay,” she said tentatively.

“How about next Wednesday evening, say, seven 
p.m
.
?”

“I work,” Kate said.

“You can get off early,” Simon said to Kate. Then to Reverend Soto, he said, “She works at one of my restaurants.”

“Thank you,” Reverend Soto said to Simon. “Then I'll see you at seven,” he said to Kate.

Kate could feel the people behind her growing impatient. She had taken more time than was permissible under the rules of church courtesy. “I'll see you then,” she said. She moved on, still thinking about that touch, that look.

Outside on the steps of the church, Simon asked, “It's okay if I said you could get off early, wasn't it? I just blurted it out. I didn't even think that maybe you didn't want to talk to him.
I gu
ess you have to talk to him since he's the pastor.”

Oh, Simon
,
she thought.
How can you be so dense?

 

M
ary snuck out the back of the church before anyon
e could
see her. She always liked going to church. Despite what Kate thought, she paid attention to everything that happened during the service. The drawing that she di
d only
deepened her concentration for what was taking place, and she felt close to Papa whenever she listened to his sermons.

But now she was angry. Anger was an emotion she wasn't used to feeling but that had begun to creep up more frequently. It had popped up sometimes when she thought about Kate going off to Stanford and leaving her alone with Mama, and it almost exploded today at the end of Reverend Soto's sermon. Reverend Soto said that Papa was a sweet and saintly man, but he said it as if Papa's sweetness kept him from telling the truth or speaking about the evil and suffering that existed in the world. Besides, he had spoken without any knowledge of Papa.
Sweet
was not a word she would ever use for him. Papa was kind, and that was different.

Mary got home to find Aunt Julia waiting impatiently for her. She wanted to leave for Mass early so she could get a good seat. She called a cab and then went into the bathroom to freshen up. It would have been easier for her to keep all her cosmetics and other beauty aids on Mama's dresser in the bedroom, but she preferred to store her things in the small wall cabinet in the bathroom. Mary had tried to understand what made her so afraid of being around Mama. The only thing she could think of was that Mama reminded Aunt Julia of death, and that was scary for some people.