Prophecy

I turned to get my cell from the RMP. Oblivious to my surroundings, I collided with a priest, almost toppling him to the ground. I reached out and grasped his arm, preventing him from falling further.

Great. He saw me staring at Max's ass, and now I have to confess my impure thoughts.

"I'm so sorry, Father."

"Oh, tut-tut, now."

His French accent was strong, but he spoke English well enough. He had an unpretentious smile, radiating, caring. If I had to guess, I'd say he was in his late sixties to early seventies. His thinning gray hair and weathered face revealed his passage of time.

He had a distinct, pleasant aroma, yet I couldn't quite place it. Despite his age, he possessed a robust physique. His broad shoulders and thick chest hinted at hours spent in the gym. He had a very Old-World quality about him, proper and sophisticated.

I extended my hand to shake. Instead, he raised his palm, with fingers pointed downward. He seemed intent on asserting dominance, as if he wanted me to submit and kiss the ring. I suppose that's just the way things were wherever he was from.

"Your partner is exquisite," he said. "And she holds your favor. The attraction you share with her is undeniable."

My eyes widened, and my lips parted. I couldn't believe that I was having this conversation with a priest. And when he saw my reaction, he smiled and tapped my arm.

"I've crossed the world over," he said. His voice, strong and unwavering, carried a hint of reminiscing. It seemed filled with the echoes of distant lands and events that I'd never know or experience. "I've always had an intuition for recognizing the love between a man and a woman. Your young policewoman has a love for you that runs deep as if God destined her to discover you. Now, of course, unbeknownst to her, she will soon come to realize."

He leaned closer, his piercing blue eyes narrowed to a squint. He squeezed my arm with such force that I could feel his strength, confirming my earlier assessment of his physique. "And so shall you," he whispered. His voice filled with determination.

"But—"

"Well, yes. You and your enchanting amoureuse shall be in my prayers."

His voice trailed off, a hint of curiosity in his tone, as he waited for me to disclose our names. The cadence with which he spoke and the weight behind his words made me feel like I was listening to a prophet. I hoped he was right and would take this as a sign that Max and I would be together.

"Her name is Maxine McMenamin, and I'm—"

"Corporal Kelly, yes, I read your nametag. I am Father Moritz."

I felt a slight tingle as he released my arm and walked past me. This time, a gentle touch landed on my shoulder.

"Oh, and corporal," he said, smiled, and stopped. "You owe me one, Our Father, and two Hail Marys for staring at her buttocks."