Date: Wed, 13 Jan 1999 14:14:42 +0900
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrejkoymasky@geocities.com>
Subject: priest-01

-------------------------- 
I started writing gay stories in 1985 and to
now I wrote about 80 of them. Being Italian, of course I wrote them in
Italian. Now, many of my friends asked me to translate them in English.
But my English, also if understandable, is surely not a "literary" one:
I can't know all the nuances and literary tricks I can use in Italian. I
need somebody revising my translation. Now, I found a person that is
kindly helping me with my stories. But I can't ask to one single person
to help me with all of my stories. So, if amongst you there is somebody
(with a good English style) that thinks this unpaid work worthy, and
wants to help me, I would be really happy. If such a person exists, can
send me an e-mail at:

andrejkoymasky@geocities.com 
----------------------------

PRIEST, FOREVER - 1
by Andrej Koymasky Copyright 1999
January 21st 1995
Translated by the Author
English text kindly revised
by Alun.

----------------------------- 
USUAL DISCLAIMER

"PRIEST, FOREVER" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic
scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family,
opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to
read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, ore
because you think yo really want to read it, please be my welcomed
guest.

-----------------------------

ROCCASELLA

Marco Deregibus entered the seminary because he strongly felt the
vocation to devote himself to the more destitute of the earth. He
studied with commitment, brightly passed all exams and his superiors
thought very highly of him. But, approaching the moment of the
ordination, he asked audience to the cardinal, because he felt he had to
tell him about his heavy problem.

When he was alone with the cardinal, he knelt in front of him and asked
him to hear his confession.

"Your Eminence, I have a heavy conscience problem."

"Tell me, my son."

"I... I entered the seminary because I want to put myself at our Lord
service."

"Yes, sure. And you are one of the best seminarists we ever had."

"I thought I could take my chastity wow without problems. I never felt
interested in sex or even attracted by the girls."

"I see and now, on the contrary, the girls..." the cardinal said with an
understanding smile.

"No, not exactly. The problem is that, I noticed, just in this period in
the seminary, I feel more and more attracted by some of my fellows
students and the temptation seems to grow."

"Did you surrender to this temptation?"

"No, Eminence, not yet, but..."

"But you are afraid the day comes when you will be no more able to be
faithful to the wows you took, right?"

"Yes, Eminence."

The cardinal nodded: "But do you continue to strongly feel the vocation
to give yourself to the sons of God and to the more needy?"

"Yes, Eminence, I feel it, with force. But, I ask to myself, which of
the two will be stronger?"

"And who can know that, my boy? Man is weak. But on the other side it
would really be a pity to lose a so valid and precious element as you
are. And honest as you are. If you asked me, I can relieve you from your
wows and reduce you to the lay state. But... is that what you are really
asking me?"

"I'm asking your advice, Eminence. I feel too confused to decide by
myself."

The cardinal thought over, asked him some questions, than said: "My boy,
carry on your way. I will ordain you as a Priest and I will pray to our
Lord for you to give you strength. If one day you really couldn't resist
any more, come to see me, talk with me with an open heart. I will try to
help you in all I can. But we need good Priests and I know you will be
one," he said and gave him the absolution.

So, when he was twenty four, the Cardinal Perri ordained him a Priest.
He went back to his home for his first Mass and after that said farewell
to his parents and friends, went to see the cardinal to be assigned his
first mission. The cardinal received him in his private studio.

"Don Marco, I need your help."

"Yes, Eminence, in what can I make myself useful?"

"Roccasella Parish Priest is old and not in good health. Don Sergio
Caselli is a holy man, worth of all the respect and high esteem, but he
is old. The situation is difficult. There is, in Roccasella the Saint
Martin Abbey, whose Abbot is an ambitious, strong, able man. Then there
is the castle, with Count Federico, he too an ambitious, difficult,
powerful man. Moreover the place is covered by the outlaws who oppress
the population that the Imperial soldiers are not able to protect. The
Parish is at drift, the poor have no protection, the little ones left to
themselves. We need you, your energy and your courage. Do you feel like
taking this burden?"

"What your Eminence thinks to be right."

"Thank you. I hoped I could count on you. There, in Roccasella, lives a
music maestro, a far relative of mine. You can rely upon him, trust him
as he knows the village very well. Therefore, prepare yourself to go as
soon as possible," the cardinal said and blessed him.

Don Marco, with a horse and little luggage, set out for Roccasella. He
had, first, to introduce himself to the Parson, then to Dom Cesare, the
Abbot, and last to the Count. It was Spring and the fields were in
flower, the air sweet and light as he was going up to Roccasella. He
first saw the Castle, ancient and severe, then the small Romanesque
Abbey and lower, the village dominated by the Parish church.

Don Marco arrived in front of the church. He tied the horse up and asked
to a passer-by where the entrance of the rectory was. The man pointed at
a door. Don Marco pulled the rope and rung the small bell. After a while
an aged woman came and opened the door,

"Reverend, are you the new vicar?"

"Yes. My name is Don Marco Deregibus. Is Don Sergio at home?"

"Sure, where can he be? He just moves for the Mass, poor old man. Thank
goodness they decided to send somebody to help him!"

"Are you the housekeeper?"

"No, just a Parishioner trying to give him a hand. But now that you are
here, I can at least take care of my family. This Parish has not enough
money to pay for a housekeeper. Don Sergio, as soon as he has four
coins, gives all to the poor!" the woman said with criticism.

Don Marco introduced himself to the old Parson.

The man welcomed him with a smile, "Blessed be God, the Cardinal had
pity on this poor old man! At last the village would have a new Parson."

"No, the Parish Priest will always be you, I am just your vicar."

"Too kind, too kind. But practically, my boy, you will be the Parson. At
this point I am just a hindrance."

"Hindrance? You? On the contrary, without you I will not know from where
to begin. You have experience and moreover, you know the village."

"Well, that is right." the old man said with a good natured smile. "Sit
here, then, I'll start to explain some things to you," he said pointing
at a chair near him. "Well, in Roccasella there are 726 families that,
being numerous, brings the population to 4653 souls. Beside the monks,
who are 37 in number and the people at the castle, who between nobles,
soldiers and servants are 231. The land belongs half to the Abbey and
half to the Count. The part belonging to the Parish is very small and
the revenue is barely sufficient to maintain the church in the dignity.
Also the village house, a part of which belongs to the inhabitants, the
other two thirds belongs to the Count and one third to the Abbey. The
Parish has, besides the church and the rectory, two small houses in
ruin. Once in one lived the sacristan, and in the other there was a
small Parish school. Here the Count represents the judicial, military,
revenue and civil power, assisted for that by the Imperial soldiers. The
Count is a man of arms, strong, ambitious and he wants the control on
all the land. The Abbot is a learned, skilled, resolute man and he too
wants the control on all the land. They are so similar to each other,
that they are irreducible enemies. Of course with all the formal
reciprocal homage and smiles. Also the Abbot comes from a family of
ancient aristocracy. What more can I tell you?"

"And the church? The liturgy?"

"In the old times... Nowadays just a few women and children still come.
People loved the processions, but it is a few years that, I must confess
it, not having any more the strength to do them... and then there is
also the problem of the outlaws."

"The outlaws?"

"Yes. Here they don't do great damage. They are more of a problem for
travellers. But when they are hungry they steal and pillage also some
houses of common people. Especially those at the border of the village."

"But, doesn't the Count fight them?"

"Yes, sure, but they are more shrewd than foxes. Giannotto is their
leader, a cunning man. He was a merchant, before."

"And why did he become an outlaw?"

"Bah, they say he suffered wrong, something that had to do with his
commerce, a loan. I don't know exactly, the rumours are many."

"But what has the bandits got to do with the church activities?"

"Oh, the processions once held out of the village, down the fields. They
started to attack, to disperse them, just to amuse themselves. Not to
have people harmed and at the beginning I held them inside the village,
but now, having lost my forces..."

The picture was depressing. But Don Marco simply thought that he had to
roll up his sleeves,

"I have to go pay my respects to the Abbot and to the Count, then I have
to meet his Eminence relative."

"Yes, Maestro Perri, a worthy person, probably the only man continuing
to come to Mass. Well, at Easter and Christmas several other men come to
the church."

Don Marco, after making sure the Parson didn't need his presence, went
up to the Abbey. He was received by the Abbott, Dom Cesare, in his
private study. A great and bright room in gothic style with a wide desk
and a library at its shoulder. The prelate was a tall and skinny, wiry
man, with an iron cross hanging from an iron chain, at his chest,
faintly shining on his wide black habit.

"I was waiting you, Don...?"

"Marco Deregibus."

"Don Marco. I'm surprised that his Eminence is continuing to refuse our
offer to take care of the Parish. And in such a difficult situation he
choose a young and therefore inexperienced Priest, as you are. Anyway, I
welcome you, Don Marco. Let's wait for the poor Don Sergio to die in
peace, then... we will see."

"I hope he will live for a long time, now that I can take care of him.
And that the Parish will retrieve its past splendour."

"Ha, its past splendour! And it will be you, perhaps, to bring it back
to that?"

"With the Lord's help."

"Sure, with the Lord's help. Fine, Don Marco, may the Lord help you,
then. I bless you," the Abbot said and the Priest understood that it was
a dismissing statement.

He didn't get a good impression from the Abbot. From his eyes, cold like
the iron of his cross. The man that didn't smile even once during their
conversation. A face that, if it was more gentle, could be ascetic, but
that so made more think of a marten having sniffed a poultry pen smell.

He went further up, to the castle. He introduced himself to the Count
Federico, who received him in an elegant lounge,

"You are the new Parson of our village?"

"Not exactly, I am just the vicar."

"Ha, I know nothing about these quibbles. I'm not a church man and I've
no time for these women's and children things. I'm busy enough to
collect the taxes and to send the yearly quota to the Emperor."

"It is really a pity, Count, you have no time for your soul?"

"Eh? What? Ah, my soul. Right, you still believe in those things, it is
your trade. Well, you do yours and I will do mine."

"Yours is also to administer justice, Count."

"Yes, sure."

"But there cannot be justice without love, Count. And love..."

"In the law codes the word love is not considered. Thou shalt love thy
neighbour as thyself? I believe more to the philosophy of the Homo
homini lupus."

"Thomas Hobbes, poor man."

"You don't have a high esteem for philosophers."

"Not for all, certainly. I tend to rely on the Holy Scriptures, you
know? You can call that a professional deformation."

The Count laughed, "At least you have humour. A gift that is lacking in
the majority of the church men. Like in the Abbott. A man so learned
that he presumes to be the only one to understand everything."

"A very common illness in our society. Also amongst laymen."

"Touché. But are you always so frank?"

"I have nothing to hide, nothing personal to defend."

"Then, you are a very dangerous man." the Count said. Don Marco shook
his head but didn't answer. "Well, Don Marco, if you please, now I have
things to sort out"

"Certainly. Sorry for disturbing you, Count."

"You will always be welcome, if you have some problems concerning the
Imperial administration," the Count said standing up.

An elegant way to say, 'The less you show up here, the more I will be
glad.' The young Priest went down to the village thinking about the two
peculiar men he met.

He passed at the rectory to see if Don Sergio was all right and if he
needed something, then went to visit Maestro Riccardo Perri. He lived in
an old house not far from the church. Perri welcomed the young Priest
with warmth and introduced to him his wife and son.

"So, his Eminence sends you here. Is he healthy?"

"Yes, thanking God. And he sends you his greetings. He said to me that I
can rely on your kindness if I have problems - you know the village very
well."

"I'm born here. I went away when just a kid, to study music. I came back
about ten years ago, when I retired from my charge as master of chapel
for the Prince Colonna. The village has changed. Until Don Sergio was
yet a strong man, he did for this village all he could. He was the only
one to really care."

"And the Count?"

"To the Count this village is just a cow to be milked. What he really
cares is to collect more and more taxes. And to make his land produce.
And succeed in taking the Abbey land. But he has in the Abbott a
tenacious adversary. The Abbot in fact doesn't content himself with
defending the Abbey land, he tries to obtain the Count's land. And in
between the farmers, who have to pay for it."

"And the outlaws?"

"Ah, these. Giannotto is a poor devil. It is for sure not him to do harm
to the common people, even if at times he pilfers a chicken or a wine
barrel to whom has more of the necessity."

"A gentle outlaw, then?" Don Marco asked with a smile.

"A swashbuckler. Surviving together with some wanted men by the Imperial
justice. Poor people who cannot pay taxes, who made too many debts, who
have lost everything and steals to survive."

"Maestro Perri! You, a defender of outlaws?"

"I just try to understand and to justify the needs of the poor. It is
not for me to judge. Where is good? Where is evil? Only God knows. Only
He has the right to judge."

"Certainly so, but we have to judge the good and the evil deeds."

"Yes, but never mistake the man with his deeds."

"This is the Gospel lesson."

"Right, a really difficult lesson, but one we have to never forget. And
even in judging the deeds, we have to proceed very cautiously."

"The Count would not agree with you."

"I think not, really. But, tell me, what are your plans?"

"I don't have any. I must understand the situation, then... may the Lord
help me."

"He always helps and when less when we expect it. And at times also in a
very different way of what we expect, to tell you the truth," the man
concluded with a gentle smile.

Don Marco liked maestro Riccardo a lot. He was an intelligent and a good
man, full of humanity and faith. He intended to meet him often and to
ask his opinions, advises. The Cardinal had been right telling him to go
to meet his relative. He felt that in the maestro he could have a valid
support.

Don Marco left the maestro house and he looked for the two houses
belonging to the Parish church. The sacristan house, just one floor, had
just the walls still standing, the roof had collapsed and bushes and
weeds had invaded the interior. The school a two floor building, was in
slightly better conditions. All the frames were missing, but the roof
seemed still sound a part some holes, and the stairs still steady even
if part of the rails were missing.

Then he entered in the church, knelt on the last pew, looked at the
great crucifix on the main altar and, inside himself, he said:

"Forgive me, Lord, if I came to visit You the last, but I know You are
patient more than men, and that You don't make problems, so I profited
of that. But I did that on purpose, You know? You are the most humble of
the powerful and the most powerful of the humbles, therefore first I
went to see the powerful and now, after greeting You, I can start to
take care of humbles. Well, if this is not a well found excuse...
Anyway, Lord, drive me, please. You know what's what, I really can't
make head or tail of it. But now I have to go, Don Sergio could need me.
In nomine Patris et Tui et Spiritui Sancti, Amen."

"Don Marco, today is Friday: would you please go to the church to hear
the confessions? Normally, before I fell ill, Friday was the day. Three
bell strokes to warn the people. I presume you will hear just the usual
old gossip to confess their neighbour sins. You must be patient. But it
is the occasion to say a good word, and so... And anyway it can give you
the pulse of the situation."

"Sure, Don Sergio, I'll go straight away. Do you need something, before
I go to the church?"

"Yes, please, would you bring me the seventh tome of the Summa
Theologica? At least I'll pass a while reading something good and
interesting."

"Sure, immediately." Don Marco said and together with the requested
book, he brought to the man a water carafe, a wine decanter and a bred
basked that put near the old man's arm chair. He took in the blanket
around his legs, and went to the church.

"In nomine Patri et Filii et Spiritui Sancti."

"Amen."

"How long has it been since your last confession?"

"Eh, from when Don Sergio fell ill. He said that just the people with
heavy sins could go to the rectory to confess and I, at my age, cannot
do heavy sins."

"Oh, why, how old are you?"

"Sixty eight, reverend."

"Oh, I thought you were under ten, in fact after that age it is really
difficult not to do mortal sins."

"Well, what can I do, I'm a widow, therefore..."

"Just the married woman can do mortal sins?" Don Marco asked trying to
hide the irony of his question.

"Well, you know, sex sins."

"I see. And the sins of lack of love towards his neighbours?"

"That is? I don't understand, I didn't steal, I didn't say false
testimony."

"Good, great. But you know that in the Gospel it is written: If you say
'may you die' to a person, will you be guilty of murder?"

"Come on, Reverend, don't exaggerate, now!" the woman said.

"No no, it's not me to exaggerate, those are words of Our Lord, I can't
help it. Did you ever think or said that to anybody?"

"Well, you know, at times they make me angry. Because I'm a good woman,
but certain people I know... For instance, just last week, my brother's
wife..."

"When your brother's wife will come to confess her sins she will tell
me, I presume. Did you think something bad inside you, about her?"

"Well, you can't help it, at times. Or rather, quite often."

"I see. But also repenting to have had bad thoughts is a duty. Do you
regret having thought evil of her?"

"No way!"

"I'm sorry, then, I cannot give you the absolution if there is not
repentance."

"Eh? What? But you are here to give the absolution, differently, why are
you here?" the woman asked, scandalised and aggressive.

"I could also pronounce the words, but I'm afraid Our Lord will give
different advice. I'm here to give the absolution to whom repents for
the mistakes he or she did. I cannot act in a different way. Therefore,
do you know what I tell you? Think about that and if you feel ready,
come back to confess. You can also come to the rectory, if you don't
want to be seen coming to church to confess twice. With any excuse. I
will be at your disposition, at any moment."

The other confessions were not so different from this one, even if often
Don Marco, on the doubt of the good faith of the other, pronounced the
absolution formula. When at last he went back to the rectory, Don Sergio
welcomed him with an amused smile,

"You did stir up a hornets' nest. I received three visits while you were
confessing. You know, three good Parishioners who come to ask about my
health."

"Good." Don Marco said, studying the old Priest expression.

"Eh, they say you are too hard."

"I'm sorry."

"But I answered them that, possibly, I had been too soft and therefore
they had to seriously think about what you said them, anything you could
have said to them," Don Sergio said.

"I certainly cannot talk about what I heard in confession. But, tell me,
Don Sergio, can I give the absolution to a person not recognising his or
her sins? I mean, if for instance a person tells me: I have killed and
I'm ready to do that again, because to kill some hideous persons is not
a sin. Can I give to that person the absolution?"

"Certainly not!"

"Thank you, Don Sergio."

"Don't worry too much for the hornet's nests you can stir up, until it
is for the souls' good. Did you yet decide the content of your homilies
for the seven and ten 'o clock masses?"

"No, not yet."

"You can talk, then, of the forgiveness. God forgives who is able to
forgive, or something similar, if you feel like."

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 2

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In my home page I've put some of my stories. If someone wants to read
them, the URL is

http://www.geocities.com/~andrejkoymasky/

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