Page 176 - What They Did to the Kid

164 Jack Fritscher

“Yes. Kind of, well, athletically, like, am I strong enough for
football.”
“Take off your shirt, Michael, and look at your body.”
“I don’t really think I should,” Mike says.
“Relax, Michael. Your virtue...”
“Yes, Father.”
“Virtue.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Virtue comes from the Latin word, vir, a man, a male, the qual-
ity of a man, goodness. Trust me.” The priest advances a step. “Jesus
cured many by virtue of His touch. Open your shirt. Let me touch
you, Michael. Give me your shirt.”
Mike retreats behind a chair.
“Don’t be afraid,” Dryden says. “Trust me.”
“Look, Chris, I’m twenty one years old. I don’t think you’re right
about this.”
“You’ve got to believe.” Dryden spills a stack of Holiday maga-
zines across the floor. “The others believe.”
“I’m not the others,” Mike says. “I’m myself. I have that much
identity.”
“I’m a priest and I love you as I love the others.” Father Dryden’s
bright eyes burn in his athletic face. “You’ve all been isolated here
with no adult attention. Now you wonder what is the connection
between a priest’s natural body and the chastity of his soul. The
other priests touch your intellect. You let them. The spiritual direc-
tor guides your soul. You let him. But none of those priests really
loves you. A priest needs to love the persons under his care. They
need to know a priest loves them. Really loves them for what they
are.” He falls kneeling to the floor looking up at Mike. “Mich ael, I
love you for what you are. A real priest loves you, loves you all.” His
hands palm-to-palm implore Mike. “Michael, you must experience
true ens-qua-ens, true being-as-being, true beauty, true virtue, true
manliness, true Self...”

In the May moonlight, Mike turned to Lock and me. “I knocked

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