William Kienzle - Deadline for a Critic

“So,” said Hogan over dessert, “that’s about how it stands.”

“And you and Lil?” Koesler stirred his coffee, trying to cool it.

“We plan on getting married. But God knows when.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Problems!” Hogan corrected. “First off, I’ve still got this obligation of celibacy. I’ve applied for laicization, but that’s a chancey procedure. It almost depends on how Pope Paul happens to feel on any given day whether Rome grants these requests to return to the lay state.”

Koesler was pleased that Hogan was going through the laicization process. A goodly number of departing priests were not bothering with it. Later, dispensations would be delayed or denied seemingly as a matter of whim. Much later, under another Pope, dispensations would be virtually eliminated.

“What about the other ‘problem’?”

Hogan winced. “Finances! Life gets mighty tough when Holy Mother Church removes her breast from your mouth.”

Koesler glanced at Lil. She wasn’t blushing. He wondered if he was. “That’s right. You’ve got to get a job, don’t you?”

“Only if we want to eat.”

“How about you, Lil: Are you working?”

“Only as a volunteer, and at that not very often, Bob.”

Ordinarily, Koesler preferred the use of his title, “Father,” with the obvious exception of family, extremely close friends, and of course, his colleagues in the priesthood. Although it was new to him, another obvious exception would be the wife, or future wife, of a priest.

“She’s working on her master’s in social work in graduate school,” Hogan explained. “Her parents are financing her education. At least they have been until now. We haven’t told them about us. They’re pretty traditional Catholics. I’m afraid if they knew, they’d disown Lil. It’s got to happen sometime, but it’d be better later than sooner.”

“Even if you get laicized? If they knew you were trying to follow Church law . . .”

“I don’t think it would make much difference. We’ve heard them talk about it before. According to them, if the Church doesn’t let people get unmarried, it shouldn’t let priests get unpriested.”

“But,” Koesler objected, “the indissolubility of marriage is divine law. Celibacy is Church law. If there’s a real marriage, the Church can’t do anything about dissolving it because that’s God’s law. But the Church can do anything it wants about its own laws. If the Pope decides to dispense you from your obligations as a priest, he can certainly do it. Why would any Catholic object to that? Especially traditional Catholics; they, above all, should rubber-stamp whatever the Pope does.”

“You’re right of course, Bob,” Lil said. “And I don’t know what it is with my parents. Just a blind spot, I guess. But they come down hard on priests who leave. That’s just the way it is.”

“Well, then,” Koesler said, “how far away are you from your degree?”

“I’ve got most of my hours in. It’s mostly the practicum that’s left.”

“And then you’ll have an income. Won’t that begin to take care of the financial problem?”

“Bob,” Hogan said, “I’m not going to live off my wife’s earnings! Besides, we want a family. When that happens, there’ll be only one income, and it’ll be mine.”

After a moment’s silence, Koesler said, “If you could use a loan, Charlie . . .”

Hogan grinned. “Thanks, Bob, that’s real thoughtful of you. But what you could afford to loan us would be a hardship on you and wouldn’t begin to take care of our needs. No, I’ve got some savings; that should tide me over till I get steady work. We’re not in desperate straits. It’s just that for a couple of good reasons, we’re not able to get married yet.”

“Well, isn’t there anything I can do? How about your job hunt? How’s that going?”

“I guess as well as can be expected. All those years in the seminary didn’t prepare me for the job market. Well, to be fair, they weren’t supposed to. It’s just that neither business nor industry has any great need for a theology major. I didn’t even bother trying an employment agency. I’d feel foolish. What would I say when they asked what I could do? ‘Baptize’? ‘Preach’? ‘Anoint’? More likely I’d have to say, ‘Nothing.’”

“Don’t be so down on yourself, Charlie. You’ve had six years of experience in management of, in effect, a small business. You’ve got great organizational and leadership abilities. And, beyond that, you’ve got a fine liberal arts education. And you always liked to write. If you need a letter of recommendation . . .”

“I might, Bob. Especially from you as editor of the Detroit Catholic. ’Course I already applied at the Free Press. ”

“You did? That’s great! What’d they tell you?”

“That I’m not ready for the major leagues. It didn’t surprise me. There’s no reason to expect to walk out of a parish and right into a publication like the Free Press. ”

“How about the Detroit News ?”

“I’m not real fond of rejection. If I’m not ready for the Free Press, I’m in no better shape for the News. Anyway, the Free Press wasn’t that discouraging. The guy in charge of their hiring told me I needed seasoning. He said I should try to get a job on one of the smaller papers. Get some experience. Build up a portfolio. It makes sense.”

“Then maybe I can help you land a job at one of the suburban dailies,” Koesler offered. “I do have some contacts with some of them.”

“That I’d appreciate, Bob. What’s discouraging is starting at the bottom of the job ladder at age thirty-one. I’m a solid ten or more years behind everyone else.”

“Maybe, honey,” Lil said. “But you’ve got experience the younger guys don’t have. That’s got to count for something.” She turned to Koesler. “Charlie’s going to write a book! He’s told me the plot and I think it’s terrific. It’s got a Catholic background. How’s that for using his experience!”

“That’s great!” Koesler tried to catch her enthusiasm, but with some experience in the literary field, he had an inkling of the enormous obstacles that would confront Charlie.

“I’m not kidding myself,” Hogan said. “It’ll be rough. But I know what I’m up against and I’m going to give it everything I’ve got.”

“We’re going to make it!” Lil echoed his confidence. “And when we put it all together, Bob, we’d like you to marry us—if you don’t mind.”

“If I don’t mind! Don’t be silly. It would be an honor. You’ve got me so excited with your enthusiasm that I can hardly wait till you make it really big, Charlie. I can hardly wait to tell everybody that I knew you when.”

They all laughed. But Koesler was the one who picked up the tab. As he did so, it occurred to him it might be a long while before these two loving people would be able to afford a night on the town.

16

Charlie Hogan left the priesthood and embarked on a new life. Meanwhile, Father Koesler had no way of knowing that a dark eminence would cast a relentless shadow over the lives of those perceived as archenemies.

Not long after Bob Koesler made his bogus visits to St. Joseph’s Retreat, Ridley Groendal was discharged from the sanitorium. Groendal emerged from that institution changed almost antithetically. He had entered beaten, submissive, passive, defeated, and profoundly depressed. He emerged confident, assertive, controlled, crafty, and planning his resurgence.

Never again would he blunder, never again enter into any situation without careful preparation. Not if he could help it. And so he took a series of carefully calculated steps.