Monday, October 8, 2007

   Grrrrrrrrrrr
Hello everyone. How are you all? I am not do good. Today at school this boy called me the B word! I was like If you call me that again I will give you a reason to call me one of thoughs. I was just hurt. I do not have a story or wait do I? Hold on one minute.

If there was one thing Father Abel Nightroad had learned in his years as a traveling priest, it was that God had a sense of humor.
And it was a wicked one at that, Lord forgive him.
Abel knew that he’d done things in his life that would most likely earn him several centuries in Purgatory but seriously, his penchant for getting into the most ridiculous situations must surely smack of Divine Meddling. Consider the predicament he and his young colleague, Sister Esther Blanchett were in now – trapped together in a tiny shack in the middle of nowhere, in the midst of a raging snowstorm and the only means of keeping warm was one single solitary blanket.
And Abel just knew that he had nothing more in his pocket other than four lousy dinars. Not that would get him the means to make fire, get another blanket or even buy him his favorite drink of milk tea with thirteen sugars. Esther had gagged when she had first heard him ask for that in a cafe and he’d just given her his typical silly smile and sheepishly pushed his round-rimmed glasses over the bridge of his nose. Professor Wordsworth had once opined that wanting thirteen sugars with his tea must be the result of Abel’s unique Crusnik physiology – sort of like why some vampires…er, Methuselahs, had extreme tastes in food and drink.
Whatever. Abel had just smiled and gotten the hell out of there before the Professor could take it into his head to talk Abel into participating in a “scientific experiment.”
Esther sneezed and Abel bent and wrapped the only blanket they had over her shoulders. As usual, she protested, “But what about you, Father Abel? You’ll catch your death in this cold!”
“It’s all right, I’ll manage,” he reassured her. He knew he appeared fairly harmless and often vulnerable when he wasn’t in Crusnik form but the nanomachines in his blood were always working and so, he had a longer tolerance for the elements than ordinary humans did. He sat back down and leaned against the wall, watching his colleague. Poor girl, her lips were blue from the cold…
She had a pretty mouth, did Esther, and Abel found himself noticing that a lot these days, especially when he gave her an excuse to scold him. He’d just stand there, wear his silly smile and watch her talk, not really paying attention to what she was saying and just letting the sound of her voice wash over him… and he’d better just cut that line of thought Right. This. Instant.
Maybe he was just really lucky that Roman Catholic priests these days weren’t really required to take that vow of celibacy.
At first, he thought he felt drawn to Esther because she reminded him of his lost Lilith in some ways – that beautiful red hair and that single-minded determination for justice, to make things right – things he’d understood all too well. And then, there was that endearing air of innocence that she still had about her, even though she was no stranger to murder, having killed a man to avenge the woman who’d been the closest thing to a mother she’d ever known. Esther wasn’t Lilith, of course and if he’d any lingering doubts about that, she had, in the time he’d known her, established quite firmly that it was more than enough that Esther was herself, unique and precious to him all the same.
Ah, Lord, he was really going to get it the next time he went to Confession, wasn’t he? The Professor would never let Abel live this one down and his penances would probably be dire indeed. He’d yet to confess what was really behind his clowning around, making overly dramatic deathbed requests, falling into fountains at the most inopportune moments, whenever he’d caught young Ion Fortuna, the Count of Memphis, making calf’s eyes at his Esther.
Somewhere Up There, the Good Lord was probably laughing his beard off.
Nine hundred years was a long time to mourn Lilith’s loss, a long time spent in penance and atonement. Abel had contented himself with simple human companionship – uncomplicated human friendships. A simple hug, a pat on the back, a comforting touch – nothing more and nothing less. Even then, it hurt to get even that close to these humans who were so much more fragile than he was and whose lives seemed to be over in just an eye blink. Abel had learnt however that he could not truly live if he completely closed off his heart – not as a priest or even just a simple man.
Abel shivered and it wasn’t from the cold.
Of course, Esther noticed that and naturally, misinterpreted it.
“This isn’t really going to do, Father Abel,” she said, managing to sound brisk and commanding despite chattering teeth. “We’re both going to freeze to death.” She scooted over right next to him and tried to throw that blanket over both of them but of course, it could barely cover his much larger frame.
“Stop, really, it’s quite all right,” he told her. “Can’t have both of us coming down with pneumonia, eh, Miss Esther?”
She scowled and he just didn’t think the word “adorable” in connection to her pretty downturned little mouth. “You really shouldn’t think about being gallant right now, Father Abel. Lady Caterina would be quite unhappy with me if I let you freeze to death out here.” And then, she looked thoughtful and Abel just knew she was coming up with one of her truly bright ideas…

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