The priest did not have to wait long. Less than five minutes after the last penitent’s pipe smoke swirled its last, the next one brought a tidal wave of cheap deodorant hastily plastered over a rushed shower way too many hours and stairwells ago. Slight ketosis from a bad diet fuelled by guilt and regret. Hair spray so violently applied that it made his nostril hair curl even across the partition that separated them.
One of his favourites.
There was rustling, a sigh, and a martial flapping of sleeves as she crossed herself.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been seven days since my last confession.”
Her heartbeat was all over the place, and he could smell the flush of her blood so close to her skin. This was going to be good. He kept quiet.
“I… I have sinned of pride. Against my fellow colleagues. The… situation from last week, it escalated. Do you… are you the same…?”
He briefly considered changing his voice to play with her, to hear the whole story all over again. But there were other sinners in the city tonight, other souls to lead. He did not indulge himself.
“I remember you, Marie. I remember your work conundrum. Take a deep breath. This place’s only judgement is the mercy of our Lord. Continue when you are ready. I will be here.”
There was a silence. The slightest hint of a sniff. Another deep sigh.
“As you know, father, I’ve been struggling with feelings of pride ever since my promotion. And Paul, he’s been pushing me since. It’s been awful. I wanted to lead us as a team, like we worked before.”
Ah, good intentions. Sometimes it was just too easy.
“Satisfaction with one’s achievements is not necessarily pride, Marie. We discussed this last week.”
A long silence.
“You are right, father. Of course. I did not wish anyone ill. I had hoped to bring positive change, establish synergy… but the team resented my promotion, and don’t want to cooperate… they just hate me, and that fills me with anger.”
“My child, there is a truly biblical difference between the anger of a small mind, and the wrath of a God-fearing woman. You have the mandate to direct your team.”
“You are right, father. But they won’t listen. What if they don’t listen?”
“What if they refuse? Their success, their failure, their jobs - they are in your hands. Would you throw it all away? Do them such a disservice?”
“I… I fear I am not strong enough. This week I got Paul fired!”
He needed to rest his head against the shiny leather pillow of the confessional for a second. This was going too well.
“This is the reason you came here, my child. Unburden your soul.”
“It happened on Wednesday. Since I became department manager, Paul has been instigating his colleagues to eat my yogurts, the ones I keep in the fridge. It was a mild annoyance, nothing to lose my temper over. But then it was Tuesday, and I was tired, and I wanted my snack, and… they were all gone.”
Silence. The pathetic hiccups of the mediocrity sobbing. He waited for as long as he could, but it was clear she wasn’t going to go on on her own.
“How did you feel about that, my child?”
“I was angry, father. So angry! I didn’t know it was Paul, then, and so I blamed one of the service people. They are all so…”
What a day of boons, this was.
“Take your time, child.”
“There was an enquiry. It took all of fifteen minutes for the entire team to finger Paul as the culprit. I’d have let it go, but.. by then…”
He placed his hand on his thigh, ran it down to his knee. Turgid to the tip.
“By then upper management had been called in, and a cop had been called to pick up the cleaning lady we’d originally figured was stealing… and Paul didn’t have a great record with HR. He was fired the next day. And it’s my fault.”
Once, shortly before the Renaissance, the peasantry of most cities and villages had been so broken down that they would just line up their heads with the chopping block, not even caring to protest their innocence. It had been a triumphant moment, watching them twist their heads to ensure that at least the final cut would be clean.
This, oh, this was so much better.
“Marie, you do not carry the burden of Paul’s actions”
“But he has children, and his wife was just furloughed. How will they manage?”
“You did not force him to steal those snacks. He does not deserve indigence for his actions maybe, but are you sure of that?”
The sobbing stopped.
“What do you mean, father?”
“Our Lord gave us free will. He ushers us into the circumstances of our choices with all of his infinite benevolence, and watches over us with the boundless love of a parent who dotes over his children. He can, however, not make us chose the righteous path. He can only show it to us. The rest is up to us.”
There was more silence. He noticed the shift in colours on the other side of the screen. She had lifted her head, and was no longer holding her face in her hands.
“You mean… he was meant to…”
“Of course not! The Lord did not plan for Paul to lose his job. But it was Paul who failed his test. Maybe he needed the promotion because of his wife. Maybe he needed the snacks because money is tight. Those, however, are reasons between himself and our Father in Heaven.”
“So I did nothing wrong.”
“My child, we can do no wrong. We are part of His grand design. Your role in this design is to make sure your team respects rules. If you feel that you performed your task, then you can do no wrong in the eyes of His love.”
It was all he could do to break out in a cackle, at this point.
“I did warn them in both person and in an email…”
“You did your job. Performed your task.”
“And there were notes on the fridge door. And I labelled my yogurts.”
“I had no doubt you acted righteously, my child.”
“Every single one. He should have known better. He was disrespectful.”
“Yes, this he was. Of his manager, no less.”
“You are right, father! I should not let these men make me feel bad.”
“It would be wrong for you to act in any other way.”
“T-thank you. I feel so much better now. Your wisdom always brings such solace. What is my penitence?”
“Child, you came to me for guidance, and this is what we do. You have not sinned in your heart. Your intentions were pure. Recite a dozen Hail Marys every night before bed. The Virgin’s guidance will be on you.”
“Thank you father.”
“Recite your Act of Contrition, so we may live in His light one more day”
“I am sorry for my sins with all my heart…”
She droned on, and the priest leaned back and grinned in the shadows of his pine box. The best part of his job was that he didn't even have to do anything. The idiots had invented middle management all on their own.