William Kienzle - Requiem for Moses

“But you said …”

“I say lots of things. Some I mean and some I’m not so sure.”

“Moe, what’s going to happen to me?” She pulled the sheet higher about her neck. It was as if she were nude in this room with a stranger. The rare glimpses she’d gotten of Moe’s ruthless side had been quickly glossed over. Now she could see the truth. This Moe Green who was discarding her like a card in a poker game was the real Moe Green, the genuine lowdown article.

Nothing she could do or say would prolong their relationship. It was now a matter of salvaging whatever she could. “Moe, what’s going to happen to me?” she repeated.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t know.” He really didn’t give a damn, but he didn’t want to push her over the edge into anger. At the moment she was defensive. That was the state of mind he wanted to deal with.

“You can stay here,” he said, “for a little while. But there’s got to be a time limit on this arrangement-say, a month, two at the outside. You can find a job. Look around. I’ll even help you if I can. But”-his voice was harsh-“not dancing. Nobody can help you there.”

Now fully dressed, he paused in the doorway. “Have a nice life, Claire. But first, get one.” And he was gone.

In just a little more than two weeks her newly found lifestyle had not only crumbled, it had virtually evaporated.

It had all begun when she’d told Green of her missed period. What if she had gone to another doctor? She could have had the operation and he would have been in the dark, none the wiser.

What if? What if? What if?

It was over.

She was alone.

Tears flowed. Sobs racked her. She wished fervently that she had never met Dr. Moses Green.

THE PRESENT

Father Koesler was impressed. Of all the people he’d met in his entire life, surely no one appeared to be as amoral as Dr. Moses Green.

Still, Koesler did not second-guess himself on granting this wake. If deceased people needed a consensus to be granted a religious funeral, he wondered how many would qualify.

“Well, what did you do then?”

“First of all,” Claire said, “I made up my mind I wasn’t going to be beholden to him for anything. I cleared out of the apartment the next day. I had saved up some money. So I got a decent place to stay even before I started looking for a job.

“Thank’s to Moe’s laying it all on the line, I didn’t waste any more time trying to be a dancer. I took stock of what I had to offer. I’m good looking-that’s not vanity, Father; that’s the truth.”

“Honest humility is the truth,” Koesler said. “And I would second your assessment: You are good looking.”

“And I’ll third it!” Stan Lacki was grinning.

“So,” Claire continued, “I figured there was good money in waiting restaurants, if the tips were generous. After checking around, I settled on Carl’s Chop House. Lots of men go there. I counted on their appreciating a good-looking waitress. And I was right. That’s”-she smiled broadly-“where I met Stan.”

“The guys at the station go there maybe once every week or two,” Lacki said. “Course I picked up on Claire right away.”

“He was more than a real gentleman,” Claire said. “He was very respectful to me. And I needed that. I could joke with the guys at the restaurant, but it was just kidding. Whenever any of them started coming on to me, I’d cut ’em off at the pass. I’d just had it with sweet-talkers. Good old Moe Green cured me of falling for sweet talk. Stan was real mannerly.”

“She’s a lady.”

“So, anyway,” Claire went on, “about a year ago we started going out. Then we got serious and … well, we’ve been sort of engaged for the past five months. And, you know, Father …” She blushed again, then smiled and said firmly, “We wanted to wait awhile to get married-you know, to be sure?”

Koesler nodded understandingly.

“But then, a little while back, when we decided to plan our wedding … well, we ran into trouble. A lot of trouble, it turns out.”

“Oh?” Koesler said. “You’re both Catholic, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Either of you married before?”

“No.”

“You’re both entering this marriage freely?”

“Yes.”

“Then, I’m at a loss. What’s the problem?”

“I’d say,” Lacki interjected, “the problem is the priest who was handling our marriage preparation.”

“Oh? What’s his name?” Koesler asked.

“He’s standing right back there-against the back wall,” Lacki said, pointing.

“That’s Father Reichert!” Koesler was surprised.

“Don’t we know it!” Lacki said.

“But he’s retired,” Koesler said. “Why would he have anything to do with your marriage?”

“We had no reason to question that,” Claire said. “Why shouldn’t he take care of marriages? He’s been a priest for tons of years, hasn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but …” Koesler’s shook his head in puzzlement. “What did he do … as far as your wedding goes, I mean?”

“Just told us we couldn’t get married,” Lacki said. “At least not in the Catholic Church. He said if we were determined to get married, we should look up some justice of the peace, or a judge or a minister.”

“Why? What reason did he give you for denying a Catholic ceremony?”

“He said,” Claire explained, “that the purpose of marriage is to have children and raise them Catholic. And that since I’d had a hysterectomy, we would never be able to have children-that every time we had intercourse, we would be making a mockery of marital love. That’s what he said. Then he told us to go away.”

Koesler shook his head again. If Joe Btfsplk’s black cloud had been in the church, it would have been directly above Koesler.

“Well, then, we got to thinking,” Lacki said. “This Dr. Green is such a … uh …” He seemed to be rejecting a series of colloquial epithets that were not fit for polite conversation, especially when the circle included a priest. “… such a rotten guy, that we wondered if he’d actually done what he said he did.”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Koesler said to Claire. “I mean, you’re either having periods or you’re not.”

Claire was surprised that a celibate man would know that much about female physiology. “Well, we thought that maybe he lied to us. Lies were mother’s milk to him. Maybe whatever he’d done could be reversed or repaired. Like sometimes tying the tubes can be reversed.…”

“She was going to go to a gynecologist and have it checked out,” Lacki said.

“But,” Claire interrupted, “something told me there was a better way. Remember that nurse I mentioned-the one who was so kind to me when I was operated on? She was right there, as far as I know, assisting the doctor. We thought maybe she could tell us exactly what really happened.”

“Were you able to find her?”

“Finding her wasn’t so tough,” Lacki said. “Getting her to talk about the operation was another thing. Normally, I guess, a nurse isn’t supposed to talk about things like that … especially to a patient.” Koesler nodded in agreement.

“But,” Claire added, “I think maybe she felt sorry for me-and probably by this time she’d made a judgment. Still, we had to plead with her for quite a while. We promised her we wouldn’t say anything to anybody. But I think that finally maybe by this time she just was disgusted enough that she was willing to take the chance. And after I explained the trouble we were getting from the Catholic Church, she was definitely sympathetic. I was figuring on that ….” She paused.

“And?” Koesler prompted.

“And she told us what happened. She insisted that she could tell us only what she saw, and her interpretation of what the doctor did that day. But she also said that she’d had a lot of experience in the OR-that’s operating room-”