The Saint
“Forever.”
The word hung in the air between them before falling into her lap and seeping into her skin.
“Forever,” she repeated. “You want me to obey your every order forever?”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to order me to do?”
“As soon as you agree to my terms, you will learn your first order.”
“You know forever is a really long time. It’s the longest time, actually. You don’t get longer than forever.”
“I am aware of this.”
“I could be in juvie until I’m twenty-one. Forever’s longer than six years.”
“It is.”
“I’ll take juvie, then.” A foolish boast, but one she meant.
“You would rather go to prison than obey me?” Søren sounded horrified. Maybe even scared. His fear made her afraid. But not so afraid she would give in, not yet.
“If I’m going to give you forever,” she said, raising her chin higher, “I want something in return.”
“I already offered to help you out of your mess. What else do you want?”
Eleanor considered her demands. He sounded open to suggestion, which was good because she had a suggestion.
“Everything.”
“Everything?” he repeated. “As in …?”
“Every. Thing.” She stared at him across the desk, and this time it was her turn not to blink. “I give you forever, the least you can give me is everything.”
“I believe I know what you’re asking, and you should know that’s problematic where I’m concerned.”
“Because you’re a Catholic priest, and you’re older than I am?”
“That would be two of the three reasons.”
“What’s the third?”
“I will tell you the third reason at the same time I tell you the second reason I’m offering to help you.”
“Jesus H. Christ, so many questions. Do I need to write this shit down?”
Søren reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his battered leather-bound Bible, the one that had his real name in it.
He flipped through the pages and glanced at the scraps of paper inside. They all appeared to have writing on them but not in English. Finally he flipped to the very back, ripped out a blank end page and slid it across the table to her. From inside his coat he produced a pen, a heavy black one.
“Write.”
Eleanor eyed the pen and paper. She looked at Søren.
“I will answer your questions,” he said. “Eventually. In the meantime I wouldn’t want either of us to forget any of them.”
On the end page she wrote What’s the third reason that being with me is problemmatic? and What’s the second reason you’re helping me? She furrowed her brow as she studied the paper.
“Something wrong?” Søren asked.
“I think I misspelled problematic.” She held up the note and Søren narrowed his eyes at it.
“One m.”
“Can I answer your two objections?” she asked, rewriting the word problematic with only one m this time. “I don’t care if you’re a Catholic priest. Forcing priests to be celibate is the stupidest rule ever. Why would God invent sex and then tell people not to have it? And second, so what? You’re older than I am. I’ll be sixteen in a couple days.”
“I can’t believe I’m even discussing this with you, Eleanor,” Søren said.
She smiled at him.
“I can.”
Søren turned his head and stared at nothing for a moment. He smiled a little and turned back to her.
“Very well, then.”
“Very well what?”
He held out his hand, waiting for her to shake it.
She stared at his hand, his perfect hand.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I want you to obey me forever. It is a high price, and I realize that. If we have to negotiate, then we have to negotiate. I accept your terms. Can you accept mine?”
Eleanor slowly raised her hand off the desk and put her fingers into his.
“Okay,” she said. “You got me. I’m yours.”
He wrapped his much larger hand around hers. She expected his hand to be cold for some reason. He had such cold eyes, such an icy demeanor, but no, his skin was warm and she couldn’t help but imagine him touching her in far more intimate places than her hand.
“Forever,” she said.
And he said, “Everything.”
The deal was done. They released each other’s hands and Søren stood up.
“I’ll leave you now. Do not answer any questions until you speak to an attorney. The church will pay your legal fees. Rest assured you will pay us back for them in time.”
“Okay.” The fear had returned. She didn’t want him to leave her. Not now. Not ever.
“When your lawyer arrives, tell her the entire truth and leave nothing out. Your father was involved, no doubt. You need to tell the lawyer the level of his involvement.”
“Rat out my dad? No way.”
“Eleanor, less than one minute ago you promised to obey me forever. These are your orders. Your father is the reason you are here in this police station in the middle of the night with your entire future hanging in the balance. You are here. He isn’t. You will tell the lawyer and the court everything you know about your father and his illegal enterprises. You should be able to parlay that into a plea agreement or a very reduced sentence. In the meantime, I’ll meet with my friend who has useful connections. I will leave nothing to chance where you are concerned.”