William Kienzle - Requiem for Moses

“He knows that, Claire,” Lacki said. “He watches television … don’t you, Father?”

“My share.”

“Well, anyway,” Claire continued, “once she started talking, it was like she couldn’t stop. I guess she just wanted to get it all off her mind. She said that Dr. Green’s way of doing things is like he’s God. Usually he doesn’t say anything to anybody unless there’s a problem or somebody goofs. And then all hell breaks loose. But he never explains what he’s doing or talks to anybody. Actually, Lana said he’s a first-class surgeon, but a fourth-class human being-her words, Father,” she added.

“Anyway, when he finished removing my uterus, he put it in the dish they have for that. Usually, Lana is the one who takes the organ or tissue or whatever’s amputated, and brings it down to the pathology department for examination and evaluation.

“But when she reached for the dish, the doctor told her in no uncertain terms to leave it, that he would take it himself.

“That was enough out of the ordinary for her to take a second look at the organ. She said she was surprised. Not only did it seem to be normal, without any signs of the cancer, but-let me see if I can get her words right on this-’cause it’s important-she said my uterus was ‘enlarged and rich in congested blood supply.’” She paused again.

“Which means …?”

“Which means I was pregnant!”

“Which,” Koesler said, “means the father was …”

“Moe Green,” Claire supplied.

Koesler had to pause to absorb the enormity of what he was hearing.

“I won’t claim,” Claire said, “that I was eligible to crown the Blessed Mother in the May Procession. But once I linked up with Moe, I was faithful to him. He was the father of my baby. He killed his own child.”

Though she had come to terms with this evil act, tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped them away angrily. Stan patted her shoulder.

“That nurse-Lana Kushner-said that later that day she tried to check on the pathology report,” Lacki said. “The sample that Green submitted was cancerous. Which could mean that she was wrong-or that the doctor substituted a diseased organ for Claire’s. But she said she really didn’t think she was wrong.

“Anyway, there’s nothing can be done about it. It was her word against the doctor’s. And,” he said bitterly, “everybody knows which one the hospital would believe.”

Claire, her face a mask of sorrow, nodded. “After we talked to the nurse, I called him … called Moe. I didn’t tell him how I knew, but I asked him how he could have done it …. why he’d done that to me ….” The tears came again. “He didn’t even answer; he just sort of snorted-or maybe it was a laugh-and hung up.” She was close to weeping at the futility of it all.

Koesler shook his head again, this time in a mixture of sympathy and anger. “Claire, I don’t know how you are holding up under all this. But let’s take things one at a time. You said you had a couple of problems with your marriage to Stan?”

“That’s right, Father. About the abortion. Doesn’t that mean I’m excommunicated? Seems I learned that in school or read it somewhere.”

“No, no. At worst that’s a hypothetical question. You didn’t have any say in the matter. The decision to abort didn’t involve you in any way. You didn’t even know you were pregnant. So forget about that. What’s next?”

“Father Reichert! He said we couldn’t get married because of the hysterectomy. And he didn’t even know about the abortion!”

Father Reichert , thought Koesler. He’s not just a nut; he’s a dangerous nut. Suddenly, Koesler remembered Reichert’s threat-promise-to bring this wake up before Cardinal Boyle. Heretofore, Koesler had been upset and distracted by the coming scene that would probably take place tomorrow. Now, the way this situation was developing, Koesler was beginning to look forward to the confrontation. He would have the opportunity to draw Reichert out on the matter of a hysterectomy as an impediment to a sacramental marriage.

There was no doubt that Reichert would willingly-eagerly-state his opinion. Nor was there much doubt that the Cardinal would be forced to act on such a false doctrine. At the very least, Boyle would be forced to suspend Reichert’s faculties to witness weddings. That was the good news. The bad was the damage he had done to Claire and Stan as well as undoubtedly to countless others.

“I think,” Koesler said, “that I will have a talk with Father Reichert. He’s very, very mistaken about a hysterectomy blocking your right to the sacrament of matrimony.”

Koesler noted a shadow of doubt clouding Claire’s relief.

“You probably find it difficult,” he said, “to understand how priests can disagree. Sometimes Catholics believe, or are led to believe, that priests come out on some sort of assembly line: You’ve been taught something by one priest, you’ve been taught by them all.

“But that’s not the case. Priests differ a lot, especially since the Second Vatican Council.

“Father Reichert, for instance, is a good man. But he has some peculiar notions. When he and I were young priests, we were taught-and we taught in turn-that there was a ‘primary purpose’ to marriage: the procreation and education of children. That’s been changed a bit to where there’s no longer a ‘primary purpose’; the love that promotes growth between a married couple is equally as important as having children and bringing them up in the faith.

“Besides, even back when we were young priests, an operation that would affect the fertility of either spouse would not have any bearing on the couple’s right to the sacrament of matrimony. Lots of people who, for one reason or another, can’t have children get married very validly. Physical causes that make bearing children impossible have nothing to do with the will and desire for children.

“Take my word for it: There is nothing in what you’ve told me to prevent you from having a Catholic wedding. Got that?”

Koesler’s explanation was rewarded by the open, relieved smiles of Claire and Stan.

“You’ve made me feel a whole lot better, Father,” Stan said. “I gotta admit that when Father Reichert told us we couldn’t get married because of Claire’s operation, I was pretty angry … not at anyone in particular, just at the situation. But when we found out about the abortion, something inside me just about exploded. I gotta confess, I really was close to doing something … violent.

“And I still feel that way. Lucky thing the doc is dead … lucky thing for me, anyway.”

They parted with the couple promising to stay in touch, and Koesler assuring them that Father Reichert would no longer be a problem.

But, Koesler wondered, what did Stan mean by, “Lucky thing the doc is dead … lucky thing for me, anyway.”

That’s what Stan had said.

It could only mean that if Green were not dead, Stan would still feel like killing him for what he’d done to Claire. Then Stan would have to suffer the consequences of murder. But the job was done: The doctor was dead-and it would cost Stan nothing.

Was it a mere stroke of luck that the doctor had died?

Of those who had spoken to Koesler this evening, each and every one seemed to have a very credible, pressing bone to chew with Green.

Cameron was about to lose his establishment, the nearest and dearest thing in his life. The restaurant-bar was his dream. A dream he had turned into reality. Green was about to squeeze Cameron out of the business. But, then, in almost a deus ex machina, the doctor dies. How convenient! What a coincidence.

Claire and Stan were willing to live with the consequences of a criminal operation even though it threatened their desired Catholic wedding. That was due to a literalist, idiot priest. When they’d learned the operation was by no means necessary, that the surgery was, in fact, an abortion, to Stan, at least, the deed called for vengeance. From his own lips, Stan had been ready to murder. Conveniently, the doctor had died. The coincidences were piling up. Coincidences weren’t supposed to do that.