Veiled (34 page)

“
Because, she says no one
is perfect and we all sin all the time, so we have to
confess.”

“
Except for you,
apparently, who hasn’t sinned all week.”

“
I haven’t broken any of
the commandments…that I know of. Besides, the real reason why she
confesses every week is so people get used to seeing her coming in
here and confessing every week. If the time ever comes when she
really has to confess, then she doesn’t have to worry about the
town’s people gossiping about her.”

A smile crossed Max’s
amused face. “So, am I to believe that your mother makes up sins on
the weeks that she is pretending to confess?”

“
Of course!”

“
And you?”

“
Sure, all the time except
for today. Today I came clean.”

“
So today you are
confessing about lying to your priest for who knows how long. Lying
is a sin, so you do have something to repent about after
all.”

“
Oh good! Let’s start
over. My sin is lying about sinning…or not sinning.”

“
OK, OK, out you
go!”

Celeste giggled. “So, am I
forgiven?”

“
Only God forgives, but I
hold no grudge.”

“
Good! See you at dinner,”
Celeste said brightly.

Max closed his eyes, even
though he couldn’t see her, his eyelids were swimming with images
of her smiling face.
Yes,
he thought bitterly,
she
will be the end of me.
This thought,
however, didn’t distress him as much as it should have.

Time passed much as it
always did on Earth—too quickly—and months had now passed since the
events of that day at the river. Max had buried and dealt with the
feelings that that day had given him. But Sundays were always a
source of both joy and aggravation to him. He looked forward to
Sundays a little too much, and not for the right
reasons.

Celeste still confessed
every Sunday and was her usual spunky self. She used confession
time more as a time to confide in Max, rather than confess. She
told him of her unease about Ricardo and her dreams of living in
South America, a dream that coincidentally they shared. She also
talked a great deal about her rose grafts and the progress they
were making.

Max listened patiently,
oscillating between thinking that confession time was for the
purpose of confessing sins only, and loving every moment he heard
her voice and could talk freely with her. When he had dinner at the
DeLeon household, Max talked with her father about the town and
business. Celeste kept quiet during this time, observing the
manners that she had been brought up to have.

Max would often smile at
the thought of how little her parents knew the real Celeste. His
mind would stray as he saw her sitting there so demurely eating her
meal in silence, thinking about how she was absorbing every bit of
information. Max also knew that it would be a waste of time to try
to convince Don Marco of the jewel he had for a daughter. The old
man was too entrenched in old customs to listen, so he kept all
this knowledge to himself. And to rein in his unruly thoughts about
Celeste, Max took up the task of learning Ancient Egyptian. The
hieroglyphics seemed to be the best antidote against any thoughts
of her.

Seventeen year old Celeste
however, was not as deliberate as Max was. For one, she didn’t have
the commitment that Max had to the Church, though she understood it
perfectly. In her mind his vows to the church were a mere
inconvenience that only made their situation more exiting. In fact,
Celeste didn’t work hard at all to get her mind off of Max, she
simply succumbed to fantasy any time her mind wished to.

One particular summer
afternoon, she ventured another dip in the river. This time she
took precautions though. She brought a towel and left it by the
river bank, and only took a short swim. Once dressed, and cool
enough to sketch, she set to work, but was soon frustrated by her
lack of talent. Try as she might to draw those beautiful creatures
that surrounded her, she could not. They always turned out
disproportionate and odd looking, so instead she was looking around
for easier targets.

“
A simple flower, a leaf,
or a blade of grass. I have to start with the basics, and then move
up,” she said to herself.

When I saw Max—Egyptian
book in hand—walking up the lane, I rolled my eyes.
Not again!
I
thought.
At least she’s dressed this
time.

He had to walk this way
every week to visit a family that was often in need, so whenever he
had to come by the river, he armed himself with something really
enthralling, so as to avoid all temptation. But it was not meant to
be this time. Engrossed as he was by the hieroglyphics, he didn’t
see the large root and tripped. He tried to catch himself before
reaching the ground, but all he managed was to throw the book up
into the air and land on his face.

As he lay on the dirt, he
lifted his head, and in so doing saw her through the clearing. She
was dressed this time, thank goodness for that, but looked lovelier
than ever as she studied a little wild flower in her
hand.

To any other man, this
would’ve been a great opportunity to go up to her and have a
friendly chat, while enjoying her beauty up-close. But to Max this
was a terrible sight to see, something that would disturb his
dreams for days, making him miserable and...
Bitter,
he thought.
I’m becoming bitter, just like Frollo, in the
‘Hunchback of Notre Dame’.
What was that
word that was engraved in the stone wall at Notre Dame? ‘ANATKH’.
FATE.

Is it my fate to love her?
Or is it my fate to become a bitter wretched man?
Max was interrupted mid thought by Celeste’s
shriek. Without further hesitation, he sprang to his feet and
zigzagged his way through the trees toward her.

When he got there he saw a
man bent over her, trying to tuck a strand of hair back behind her
ear. Celeste was frozen in place, eyes wide, and her body
tense.

“
I don’t think this young
lady cares for your company.” Max’s voice was cool and collected,
though he felt far from that.

“
Oh, Padre, I was just
admiring the local scenery. I didn’t mean anything by it,” the man
responded, but it was far from the truth. He was hiding a knife in
the small of his back, and had every intention of taking that girl
back to his place at knife point if necessary. Max, a simple priest
with no means of defending himself, would become a tragic casualty
of the event.

I immediately flew to
Celeste and whispered, “He’s got a knife!” I did the same in Max’s
ear, and oddly enough he seemed to hear me. His mind immediately
reflected my message.

“
The way I see it, you
have a choice. You can kill us both for a few minutes’ thrill, and
even you know that you will be accountable to your Maker for that
one day,” Max said in a steady commanding voice.

“
Or…?” The man asked,
slightly twitching, as if a pesky fly was bothering him.

“
Or…you and that knife you
are hiding can walk out of town, a free man—to God and your fellow
men.”

The man kept twitching and
now I saw why. Two shadowy Cast-outs were throwing themselves into
him, as if they were trying to break through and get inside of him.
Somehow the man seemed to sense this, and was twitching in
response. I could tell his mind was changing, he no longer felt
sure of himself. He was spooked by the priest and his knowledge of
the real situation. He also had a tiny shred of decency left in him
and his conscience was slightly bothered.

“
How did you know I had a
knife?” His voice was gruff.

“
You know,” Max said with
confidence.

The man regarded him for a
while, his body seemed to be relaxing, the twitching subsiding. He
felt bewildered by the knowledge the priest had, and was now sure
that some higher power was at work here.

“
I… I’m sorry.” He slowly
straightened up and started backing away from the still frozen form
of Celeste. He walked cautiously backward, looking at Max with a
spooked look on his face, then turned and ran off.

Max walked to her side and
offered her his hand, so she could stand up. She took it, now
shaking like a leaf, and without any thought threw herself into his
arms and sobbed.

“
How did you know?”
Celeste asked once she could get the words out, but not releasing
him from her grasp.

Max’s heart was beating
wildly, and his lungs were having a hard time drawing even breaths,
a strange mixture of pleasure and guilt oppressed him.

“
I’m not sure…it just came
to me,” he answered. With effort and much against his desires, he
pulled her away from him. Holding her at arm’s length he looked at
her with what he hoped would be a fatherly scowl. But Celeste
didn’t react in the way he expected. Instead of looking remorseful
and downcast, she crinkled her nose and turned her mouth into an
unrepentant pout. A smile escaped his lips before he could restrain
it, so beaten by her charms;,he simply shook his head and let her
go.

The following Sunday at
confession, Celeste confessed to an actual sin for the first time
since her initial confession of lying about her sins. During the
course of the week she had found out that her parents intended for
her to marry Ricardo after all. By now his reputation was well
documented and known throughout the town, and his absence created
indignation on the part of the obviously forsaken girl, who had
spilled her guts to the whole town about who the father of her
child was. This news, however didn’t seem to change Don Marco’s
mind. As incongruous as it seemed, the more gossip he heard the
more set his mind got on the matter. Her mother took the whole
affair with such a stoicism that it made Celeste sick.

All of this, Celeste
discharged on Max’s confessional with the addition of the actual
sin—her hate for Ricardo and her parents.

“
If they make me marry
him, I will die. I can just imagine what my life would be like.
Always being lied to and cheated and pitied by my friends, because
his indiscretions are public knowledge. What are my parents
thinking? What could they possibly see in him? He is lazy and
opportunistic, he obviously only wants our money.”

“
Celeste!” Max cut her
off. He should have said “My child” but he couldn’t call her that,
any more than she could call him “Father”.

“
Would you like for me to
speak with them?” he offered. His eyes closed knowing that getting
involved might compromise him in some way, but also knowing that he
couldn’t let Celeste marry Ricardo. Someone else—perhaps. He
shuddered. No. The thought of Celeste in anyone’s arms was too
distasteful. That’s when he knew he had to leave.

“
Yes, please, they listen
to you. But if you fail to convince them…”

“
We’ll take it one step at
a time. Now go home…in peace.”

The meeting, however, did
not go well. To no avail did Max try to make them see reason. Not
even the threat that he wouldn’t perform the ceremony had any
effect on them.

Her eighteenth birthday was
just a few days away and the feeling of impending doom repressed
her so much, that one day she simply got up and ran out of the
parlor without a single word to her mother. Doña Rosa, who had
fallen asleep needles in hand, presently woke up with a start and
watched as Celeste’s skirts fluttered out of the room.

Celeste went straight to
her rose garden, threw herself on the ground, and wept bitterly. I
was at her side bending over her, and if I had had tears to shed I
would have shed them with her. I could feel her feelings so keenly
that I suffered right along with her. I tried to stroke her hair or
her arm, but every time I did so, my hand went right on through,
and she shivered.

“
I am so sorry, Cel. How I
wish I could be alive right now and be your friend,” I said. I
wished so badly that she knew that I was there for her. If mortals
only knew of us! How would life change for them! If only they knew
what pains we angels go through for them, if only they could
see…

“
Oh!” she groaned, “I
can’t endure it! I can’t…” And she sobbed bitterly.

I could tell she was being
watched through one of the parted curtains from inside the house.
It was her father, who only looked for a moment, then let the
curtain drop and covered up the window once more.

“
What a heartless man!” I
thought. Some distance away I could see Max coming down the lane
with Leo floating right behind him. I motioned to Leo from the
roses and he leaned over Max. Obediently Max came straight to the
roses, and stopped when he saw her weeping. He looked around him as
if just becoming aware of the tall rose bushes that were around
him. He stretched a hand and broke off a bud from one of them, then
made his way to Celeste.

He knelt beside her, and
she was startled by his presence and proximity. Without saying a
word, Max offered her the single bud that he had picked for her,
and she took it with a faint smile.