“Forgive me father for I have sinned,” Joey Maccoullah, told the elderly priest in the confessional while crossing himself reverently. “It has been several years since I confessed my sins to you and to God, though I’m certain, He knows.”
“Unburden yourself my son,” the father’s breath smelled of garlic and white wine that came from the slight opening of the partition. Since Joey was old enough, his family and friends called him Mac. He held himself with large boned, Irish stock with curly red hair that he kept covered with a baseball cap, though now he removed it prior to entering the confessional. Though he sat, his knees came well up past his lap, nearly touching his chest. He wore a flannel checkered shirt and dungarees of navy.
“My sins are many, too many to count,” Mac replied being purposefully evasive. “But dear father it’s the sin I’m about to do that will unforgiven.”
“Please, my son, bare your soul to me.” The holy father sounded impatient.
“When was the last time you saw the sun set?”
“I’m sorry? Um, I guess it’s been a while. Lately I haven’t left til very late in the evening.”
“Would you like to see the sun set, Father?”
The silence on the other side of the partition became apparent. Finally, he replied, “My son, you bewilder me. For me to forgive past transgressions, I must here your confession.”
“It’s now or never, Father.” Mac heard the priest shift about on the other side, as if the position he sat had become uncomfortable.
“At least give me one, your most urgent transgression, then I can give you solace through God, Our Holy Father.”
Jerry Schellhammer 