73: Confession

Glorfindel insisted that Alex and Derek remain at Edhellond for another day when they both suggested they should return to their own apartment after dinner on Sunday. “You can return to your own place on Tuesday if you want,” he said.

“Hey! That’s Mardi Gras,” Derek exclaimed, examining the calendar that hung on the wall of the kitchen as they helped with the dishes. Felicity had left shortly after dinner, pleading a need to prepare for her classes the next day. “You should buy your students some treats,” he added to Alex.

“I’ve lost a whole week’s worth of classes plus my own studies,” Alex practically moaned. “I’m never going to catch up.”

“Sure you will,” Derek insisted. “Look, those lectures are taped, right? You can watch them tomorrow, maybe even get any assignments done. You can ask for an extension due to illness and I think lying in a coma for four days qualifies.”

“Derek is right, Alex,” Daeron said as he was loading the dishwasher. “Watch the lectures tomorrow and apply for an extension to submit any assignments. I’m sure you’ll be caught up by next weekend. And I have no doubt Valandur will help you.”

“Yes, I will,” Valandur said, walking into the kitchen carrying a tray of dirty dishes. “I will sit with you and listen to the lectures as well, if you do not mind. I am curious to know how these people teach linguistics.”

“Okay, I guess,” Alex said. “Thanks. And on top of that, I still have to prepare for my French and Italian classes.”

“You already have lesson plans for them from last week, right?” Derek said. “So, it’s already done. You just need to do a quick review. That shouldn’t take you long.”

“You-all have figured it all out for me, haven’t you?” Alex said with a smile.

“That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?” Glorfindel shot back with a grin as he stood at the sink washing some pots and pans and Alex could only nod.

Later, he and Derek, along with Finlay and Sakari, sat in the library with some of the Elves and listened to Cennanion and Alphwen put on a little concert, he playing the flute and she singing. Gareth sat with them.

“I should have left this morning,” he told them during a brief intermission when Derek asked how long he was planning to stay, “but they’ve closed the highway south of Bettles because the Yukon River is flooding and the bridge across is out. I’m stuck here until the waters recede. Luckily, I have vacation time due to me, so I’m good, but I really don’t like leaving Gwyn alone for so long.”

“Why?” Alex asked. “He’s older than you. I’d think he’s capable of taking care of himself.”

Gareth shrugged, giving them a shy look. “He says I help keep him out of trouble.”

“Oh, I thought that was supposed to be the other way around,” Derek said with a straight face.

Gareth stared at him, not quite sure what the Mortal meant, but when he noticed Alex grinning, he chuckled. “I guess we help each other stay out of trouble,” he admitted softly.

“It has been just you and he for so long, I imagine it is hard to think either one of you could manage perfectly well on your own,” Finrod said, joining the conversation.

Gareth became suddenly tongue-tied, ducking his head and nodding. Alex and Derek exchanged amused looks with Finrod.

“Hey, mate,” Derek said, giving Gareth an elbow. “No need for that. Finrod puts his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us.”

“Too true,” Finrod said with an exaggerated sigh. “Now, Glorfindel on the other hand….”

“But everyone knows how perfect Glorfindel is,” Alex chimed in.

“Including Glorfindel,” Derek added and then the four of them were laughing. Alex glanced over to where Glorfindel was speaking with Daeron and saw the ellon looking their way, grinning. He met Alex’s gaze and nodded in approval before returning his attention to Daeron.

“Much better,” Finrod said to Gareth when they had calmed down a bit. “There is no need to feel shy or unworthy around me, child. I applaud both you and Gwyn for making your way through the world as you have. I know it could not have been easy for either of you, nor for your parents. I regret that none of you found other Elves to help you bear the burden of living among Mortals over these many centuries, but I have learned the hard way that everything happens for a reason, whether we know what that reason is or not, and usually we never do. We found you when it was meet for us to do so. You have naught to be ashamed of, Gareth. I hope while you are with us you will have an opportunity to meet my son and his gwedyr and my niece. They usually join us for dinner on Sundays, but they were in Chandalar with friends this weekend.”

“Glorfindel mentioned them,” Gareth said. “I am looking forward to meeting them.”

Then intermission was over with and the concert continued. Alex lasted another hour before deciding he needed to go to bed. Derek went with him in case he needed help and then rejoined the others once he saw Alex in bed, wishing him a good night. As tired as he felt, though, Alex did not fall asleep immediately but lay there staring at the ceiling remembering a conversation that he should not have been able to have with Someone whom he had not really believed existed. It was the first time he had had any time to himself to contemplate that meeting and what had been said. He lay there wondering how he was going to be able to confess his crime and to whom and how they would react. Should he tell Amroth, who, of all of them, would understand? Should he tell Ron, who would sit there without judgment yet insist that Alex examine those actions in minute detail, owning them, as he kept telling him he had to do about all aspects of his sordid life? Should he tell Derek and maybe risk losing his friendship? Or perhaps he should just tell a complete stranger. Atar hadn’t specified who to tell, only that he should tell someone. Yet, how do you explain murder? How do you justify it?

He sighed and rolled over on his side, wondering how long Atar would give him to confess and what would happen to him if he didn’t. He never remembered falling asleep.

****

The next morning after breakfast, Alex retired to the library along with Valandur and the two of them sat before Alex’s laptop that had been retrieved from his apartment. It took him a few minutes to access the university website and retrieve last week’s lectures. The Introduction to Linguistics lecture dealt primarily with morphemes and word structuring.

“It’s pretty basic stuff,” Alex admitted, “but it’s required for more advanced courses and I never actually studied linguistics in school, concentrating mostly on learning various languages, so a lot of this is new for me.”

“A sound foundation is necessary for any kind of building,” Valandur said philosophically. “I used to teach such classes myself when I first became a loremaster.”

The Narratology lecture, which they watched after lunch, was a bit more interesting as the professor continued to examine various types of poetry, discussing such concepts as foregrounding and varieties of poetic license. The assignment for this class involved examining types of linguistic deviation and foregrounding in select poems.

“Let us hope that none of them prove problematical for you,” Valandur said to Alex as Alex shut down his computer.

“Amen,” Alex said fervently. “The assignments seem pretty straightforward. I think I’ll work on them later, after dinner. At least I was able to get the extension and that will help.”

“I will continue accompanying you to your language classes if I may,” Valandur said.

“Fine by me,” Alex said with a shrug. Then he hesitated. “Ah, Val.”

“What is it, Alex?” Valandur asked, giving him a concerned look.

Alex looked at the Elf, wondering if he should tell him the truth. He thought perhaps Valandur would understand why he had done what he had done, but he wasn’t sure. Could any of them really understand? They were Elves, after all. In many ways they were so far above him on the scale of things, they seemed closer to the Maiar than to Mortals.

“Um… nothing,” he finally said, deciding this was not the right time to go confessing his crimes. “Just… ah… thanks… for everything.”

“You’re most welcome,” Valandur said. “You should go up and rest for a while. You’re looking a little peaked.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling… tired,” Alex admitted and he went upstairs to rest.

Valandur watched him climb the stairs and then went in search of Glorfindel and Finrod, the two ellyn out in the back garden enjoying a rare mild day for February, the temperatures having climbed to nearly the freezing point.

Glorfindel and Finrod turned at Valandur’s approach. “How was school?” Glorfindel asked with a grin.

“Interesting,” Valandur replied with his own grin. “It reminds me of my own days at the Academy.” He paused and his expression became more sober. “Something is troubling Alex.”

“Do you know what it is?” Finrod asked.

Valandur shook his head. “No. I thought for a moment he would unburden himself to me, but at the last moment he backed off. He’s resting now.”

“Do you think whatever is troubling him has to do with his conversation with Atar?” Glorfindel asked.

“Possibly,” Valandur said. “Certainly the entire experience at the tarn has to have affected him and he is only just recovered. Perhaps he will unburden himself to Vorondur at their next session.”

“One would hope,” Glorfindel said, “but sometimes it’s hard to do something like that with someone you know. That’s why bars are so popular. People unburden their troubles to complete strangers over a drink, knowing they are unlikely to ever meet again.”

“So do we take Alex to a bar and let him loose?” Valandur asked somewhat facetiously.

“Ply him with alcohol and hope it loosens his tongue enough to reveal all?” Glorfindel shot back with a grin. “The idea has its merits, but I think we’ll let him deal with it on his own terms. I think if we let him know in small ways that he can come to any of us and we will not sit in judgment of him, eventually he will.”

“And if he unburdens himself to someone else?” Valandur asked.

“That is his choice, is it not?” Finrod answered. “The important thing is for him to unburden himself so he can properly heal and move on. We do not need to know what troubles him, we only need to be there for him in whatever manner he allows.”

Glorfindel nodded in agreement. “Keep an eye on him for us, Val, especially over the next few days as he goes back to work and all. He’s been a little too calm and accepting of what has happened to him and something is bound to break. I’d like to have one of us around to pick up the pieces when it does.”

“I have already told him I will accompany him when he returns to the college, but I cannot be with him every day and at all hours.”

“I know, and Derek has to return to the resort by Wednesday,” Glorfindel said. “I wish we can convince him to stay with us for a while longer, but I understand why he would prefer to return to his own place. Perhaps we can convince him to have you stay with him when Derek is not there.”

“It’s worth a try,” Valandur said. “All he can say is no and we’re no worse off than before.”

Glorfindel and Finrod agreed and Valandur left them.

****

When the subject was broached during dinner, Alex balked at the idea of needing a babysitter, as he put it, though Derek thought it was a good idea.

“I’d be a whole lot more comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone if I knew someone was there for you,” Derek told him.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Alex insisted.

“No one is saying you do,” Glorfindel pointed out in a reasonable tone, “but you’ve had a very harrowing experience and you’re still recovering. We would all feel a lot better if we knew there was someone on hand just in case if you insist on not staying here for a while.”

“And it’s only temporary,” Derek said. “I’ll be back on Sunday. After that, we’ll see, okay? Please, for me?”

Alex sighed. “Fine. I guess. I just…” But he couldn’t put into words what he was feeling and in the end he finished his dinner in silence and the others left him alone.

He and Derek left shortly after dinner with Alex promising to pick Valandur up in the morning and then they wished everyone a good night. Once in their own apartment, Derek spent some time packing as he meant to leave very early in the morning. They both retired early but it was some time before Alex actually fell asleep.

****

Tuesday, Alex returned to his classes, apologizing to the students for having to cancel his classes the week before and then going straight into the lessons. He had decided to compress some of the lessons to make up for lost time and gave them additional assignments. The students seemed to take it with good grace, some of them expressing their delight that he was back.

“Didn’t know how boring it would be not to be in class,” one student commented. “Tuesday and Thursday morning dragged on forever.”

Felicity, when he saw her between classes, was busy with students coming to her for extra help, so they had little time to discuss things between them, much to Alex’s disappointment, and Wednesday he would be busy with his own school work. He managed to catch up on his assignments and submitted them Tuesday evening with a little help from Valandur. And while he did not say it, he did feel more relaxed with the Vanya keeping him company. The thought of being left alone was beginning to terrify him and he was not sure why. He suspected he would be discussing it with Ron on Friday.

Valandur was curious about the custom of Mardi Gras, for there had been notices around the college about a Mardi Gras party to be held at the student center that evening. Alex did his best to explain but admitted that he was a bit uncomfortable talking about it. “It’s not really part of my tradition,” he said. “It’s more a Catholic thing than anything. Maybe you should ask Father Waverly.”

Valandur let it go, seeing how uncomfortable Alex truly was, recognizing that there was more behind the Mortal’s unease than he was letting on and it seemed more to do with this Ash Wednesday and Lent than with a day devoted to feasting and indulging in one’s passions.

Alex, for his part, felt himself becoming anxious. He recognized the significance of Ash Wednesday and all, though, as he had told Valandur, it wasn’t something that had been part of his own religious tradition growing up. Unlike his Catholic schoolmates, he was perfectly fine with not eating fish on Fridays during Lent and never really saw the point. But since his encounter with Atar he had the feeling that he was on a deadline. He had not been given one that he remembered; he had only been told to confess. Yet, the significance of the day was not lost on him; thus his growing anxiety.

How long did he have? And who, ultimately would he tell? He had the feeling the Elves were waiting for him to say something, but he wasn’t entirely sure. None of them said or did anything to suggest that they knew he was holding something back, but that didn’t mean they didn’t know, only that they were too polite to press, for which he was grateful.

All Wednesday, as he sat with Valandur through the lectures for his linguistics classes, he pondered his options. He was tempted to call Ron and ask to see him before Friday, but in the end he decided he was tired of running to the psychiatrist all the time for every little thing. It smacked of dependence or something. He was so used to going it alone… and there was the rub. Atar had said as much. He wasn’t alone, never had been. That had only been an illusion that he had created for himself. He had people who honestly cared for him and wished him well and any one of them would offer him their assistance without question.

Yet, could he trust them with his secret? That was the other thing Atar had spoken of at the end: trust. He had to learn to trust and it was so hard when for so many years the only person he truly trusted was himself.

After the final lecture, Alex decided he needed some fresh air and some time alone. “I’m going for a walk,” he said to Valandur. “Just for a half hour or so. I… I need some time to think about… things.”

“I will still be here when you get back,” Valandur said, recognizing that the Mortal did indeed need to be alone for a bit. But as soon as Alex left, he called Glorfindel and Finrod. “I will follow him,” he assured them, looking out the front window and spying Alex turning right. That direction would lead him toward the town center. “He will not know I am there.” And then he donned his coat and was soon following the Mortal, keeping far enough behind him that Alex would unlikely feel he was being watched. The Elf’s superior vision allowed him to keep the Mortal in his sight even from three blocks away.

Alex, for his part, was too busy contemplating recent events to pay much attention either to his surroundings or his path. He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, wondering what he was going to do, who he was going to confess to and when. He passed a couple of people and noticed they had ashes in the shape of a cross on their heads and the sick feeling intensified.

Time was running out for him. Somehow he knew this for a fact without understanding how he knew it. He crossed the street and thought to head for the town square and then retrace his steps and head home, for he was beginning to feel cold now that the sun was nearly setting and the temperature was dropping, but something drew him forward so that he bypassed the square and headed toward Sycamore and Edhellond, though he had no intention of going that far.

He got as far as the corner where St. Mary of the Snows Church was and stopped. The church was lit up and it looked inviting and warm and he realized he needed a place to warm up before heading back home, so he went inside, expecting to see people, but there was no one that he could see; the church was empty.

He removed his hat and gloves and opened his coat as he stepped into the sanctuary, glancing around with interest, never having been there before. He gazed up at the statue of Christ above the altar, his arms open wide in greeting, his expression serene yet welcoming. Alex stared up at the statue, remembering the look of love and understanding in Atar’s eyes and felt tears rolling down his face.

“Services aren’t for another hour or so, son.”

He turned at the sound of the voice, wiping his eyes, to see Father Waverly standing there.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” He started to leave but Waverly held out a hand to stay him.

“You’re more than welcome to stay for as long as you like, son,” the priest said kindly. “You seem troubled. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

“I killed two men,” Alex blurted out and then stood there blinking, wondering how he had managed to lose so much self-control.

If he expected Waverly to look shocked or angry, he was disappointed. The old man looked at him soberly. “Do you wish to confess?”

“He said I had to,” Alex replied, tears starting again. He collapsed to his knees, weeping. “He… he said I… I had to tell someone.”

“Who said?” Waverly asked. “Here, let’s get you up. The floor’s no good. Come sit here.” Alex allowed the old man to help him up and lead him to one of the pews. Waverly sat in the one in front of him, facing him. “Now, why don’t you start from the beginning, young man.”

Alex took a moment to fish out some tissues and wipe the tears from his eyes, not looking up. “I died,” he finally said. “Last week. I drowned.” He proceeded to tell Waverly everything he could remember of the incident. Waverly never interrupted but sat there and listened compassionately. Alex eventually wound down and silence fell between them for several minutes.

“Are you seeking absolution?” Waverly finally asked.

Alex shook his head. “I’m not sure what that means. I just know He told me to confess to someone, anyone. He didn’t say what I should do afterwards. It’s not like I can bring them back to life or anything. They’ve been dead for over ten years now.”

“No, of course not,” Waverly said. “You’re not Catholic, are you?”

Alex shook his head. “No. I… I was walking by and the church was all lit up and it looked so warm and inviting and I… I just needed….”

“Here now. No need for tears. All are welcome here. You obviously have had a harrowing experience, there’s no doubt of that.”

“Loren said the same thing.”

“Loren is nobody’s fool,” Waverly agreed. He paused for a moment as if thinking before he spoke again. “I can’t offer you absolution unless you sincerely wish for it.”

“What good would it do anyway?” Alex countered.

“If nothing else, it will hopefully bring you a sense of peace, but I should warn you that with absolution come consequences.”

“What consequences?”

“Some sort of penance. If someone comes to me to confess a crime, I encourage them to turn themselves in. In your case, though, I doubt it would work. For one thing, the crime occurred on foreign soil and you were an agent of the United States. I don’t think it would serve any purpose for you to travel to Spain and turn yourself in to the local authorities.”

“So what do I do?”

“Tell your friends. I think they need to know. Telling me is safe because I’m a virtual stranger and if you ask for the seal of confession I am bound not to reveal what I know to anyone else, but I do not think that is what Himself wants.” And he nodded toward the altar.

Alex gave him a searching look. “You believe me… about Atar, I mean.” And it was more a statement than a question.

Waverly smiled. “Son, it’s my business to believe, and having met Elves and Maiar and a Vala, why shouldn’t I believe what you’ve told me?”

“I’m afraid,” Alex admitted softly.

“Of what?”

“Of what they’ll think of me.”

“I’m sure they think a lot of things about you, young man, but I doubt that stops them from being your friends. It’s a risk, I know, but it needs doing. You will not be free of the shadow that hangs over you until you tell them. It’s the only way for you to move forward. Remember what He told you: trust is the key. You need to learn to trust others.”

For a long moment, Alex just sat there, contemplating the priest’s words. Finally, he looked up. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, sir. I should go.” He stood up to button his coat and Waverly stood with him.

“You’re more than welcome to stay for the service,” the priest offered.

“Thanks, but… there are people I need to see,” and there was a resolve in his voice that had not been there before.

Waverly nodded and held out his right hand in blessing, making the sign of the Cross with it. “God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son, has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Go in peace, my son, and good luck.”

“Thank you,” Alex said sincerely and, giving the statue behind the altar one more glance, he turned and walked out. He was unsurprised to see Valandur standing patiently on the other side of the street. Crossing over, he gave the Elf a searching look, which Valandur returned with equanimity.

“Are you ready to go home?” Valandur asked.

Alex shook his head. “No. There’s somewhere else I need to be.”

“And where is that?”

“Edhellond, and I also need Ron and Amroth there as well. I wish Derek were also here, but maybe I can get a hold of him via Skype.”

“I will call Amroth then while we head for Edhellond,” Valandur said and pulled out his phone as the two headed away from the church.