Page 116 - What They Did to the Kid

104 Jack Fritscher

“No,” I said. “I’m not old enough.” I hated these conversations
because I could never explain this part of a vocation to anyone.
“Have you ever thought about it?” Rip asked.
“I’ll be the first one to admit,” I said, “behind every man’s a great
woman. Priests have the Mother of God behind them.”
“So you’ll marry the Mother of God,” Rip said.
“Not literally. Symbolically. Men and women in the religious life
are married to the Church.”
“You’re nuts,” Rip said. He was one of those people in the Gospel
who scoffed at Christ. Why was he baiting me? Would men bait me
after I was ordained? Or would they automatically like me because
I was ordained? Or would I have to talk sports and drink bourbon
and tell jokes about the priest, the minister, and the rabbi? Or would
I be like Karl Malden, the rugged priest in On the Waterfront, who
tries to save hard men like Marlon Brando?
“So these nuns,” Kenny said, “who wear wedding rings. They’re
like married to the Church?”
“The rings symbolize,” I teetered on the words, “their mystical
marriage to Christ.”
“You mean, they’re married to Christ?” Kenny said.
“Yeah,” Rip said. “Christ’s in Argentina with like Hitler and
Checkers and James Dean.”
“Then what about these priests that wear wedding rings,” Kenny
pursued. “Who are they married to?”
“To the Mother,” Rip said, “and to the Church, and, well, you
know about Hitler and James Dean and Checkers.”
“Who’s Checkers?” Mike pretended to regain consciousness.
“Nixon’s dead cocker,” I said.
They all laughed.
“Ignore them,” Mike said. “Rip’s got a one-track mind.”
“Damn right,” Rip said, “and I think about it all the time. You
read the Bible. You study it. The Bible says woman is man’s help-
mate. That’s why I like them, plain and simple. I need lots of help.”
“If you understand, it’s all different,” I said.
“Different? You’re weirdos. You know it. We know it. We all
pretend not to know you’re wasting yourself.” Rip turned to Mike.
“Man, moping in a boat ain’t curing the problem in your pants.”

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