Page 250 - What They Did to the Kid

238 Jack Fritscher

“I promise.”
“Your uncle has promised.”
“I promise.”
But more, I promised God, for I was not like other men. I would
be the perfect young seminarian. I would go back to my German
translation on summer nights at home. I would apply myself to apos-
tolic work in my parents’ home parish. I would keep a cool reserve of
myself, but I would fire up all the warmth of Christ in my personal-
ity. I would work with the poor and help keep the parish records.
I would work at the teenagers’ center and teach catechism classes.
Everyone would see the emerging young priest in me. They would all
know the difference once I was there. They would find me warm and
loving. Empathetic. Emptied of feeling. Solid in my vocation. They
would look at me and see actually the essence of the priesthood.
They would see an alter Christus, another Christ. I would disappear
into Christ and Christ would appear and no one would even see
me. It was perfect. I would live on Communion wafers and I would
say Mass and people would ask me to pray for them and I would be
handsome and gaunt from living on wafers and I would baptize and
confirm and marry and bury them and I would be personal with
Christ who would Himself protect me always.
I promised, really vowed, to tell no one the intimacies of our
seminary life.
Rector Karg pulled from his sleeve a sheaf of typed pages. He
held them up in front of my face. “You recognize these papers?”
“Yes, Rector.”
“What are they?”
“The title pages of my new German translation.”
“You know what I want you to do with them.”
“You gave me permission.”
“I’m taking it away,” he said, “for the good of your soul.”
“I never know what you want.”
“Maybe you should go home and never come back.”
My face blushed red enough almost to betray me.
“I prefer you speechless,” he said. He looked deep into my eyes.
“Your renegade Häring’s work is under the most severe examination
by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith.” He stretched out

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