Jay sat through her lecture on celibacy like a seminarian, listening to the advice of his spiritual director. His expression changed only when she announced plans for her departure. He shrank physically and emotionally before her eyes. Although she shared his pain, she dared not touch him or make any move to comfort him.
"What are we going to do?" he said, as much to himself as to her.
"Nothing!" she snapped. "That's what we're going to do. Absolutely nothing! I'll do my job, and you'll go on doing yours. We may not be able to stop loving one another, but we can't do anything to hurt ourselves or the others around us."
The self-assured man, who earlier in the day had stood before an attentive congregation, challenging the community conscience to accept as their own what was so clear to him, had vanished. "You're right, of course. I don't know if I'm strong enough."
"I don't know if I am either, but I'll keep my end of the deal. And by God in heaven, Father de Córdova, you'd better keep yours, too!"
Leah felt like a polar bear, adrift on one ice flow, while her mate floated away on another. She wanted to cry out to him, but what words would be appropriate or effective? She had to let him go and believe that what she had done was right for both of them.
Jay had the look of a man sentenced to live and die in a self-constructed prison. "If that's what you want, then certainly."
"It's what I want," she said, doing her best not to let him see how miserable she was.
For the first time since this confrontation had begun, Leah felt brave enough to lower the drawbridge and venture out from behind her desk. They stood toe-to-toe at the door. Her body craved the crush of Jay's arms. To be that close to his lips and not taste the promised sweetness of his mouth tortured her beyond imagining. When she looked into his eyes, whose azure depth always surprised her, she discovered that relief was companion to his pain. She knew then that she had decided wisely, at least for herself.
"Now go. Please," she begged.
Jay's lips opened, then closed. Whatever he wanted to say, grief and confusion had stifled.
In bed that night, Leah wept until the muscles in her throat ached from the strain of choking back her sobs. Her tears were a mixture of joy at having found the one man in the world she could love with all her being and wretched sorrow at the impossible obstacles keeping them apart. "Perhaps in our next life," she moaned when at last no more tears remained in her.
* * *
Leah's pillow wasn't the only one to soak up tears of unrequitable love that night. It had been a long time since Jay had cried, not since his ordination day. Those had been tears of joy and relief. He had achieved a long-sought goal and was set for life in a lofty vocation of his own choosing. No spiritual books, no lecture-hall spirituality, no amount of time on his knees had prepared him for this new realization of the price God would ask him to pay for that achievement.
Rejected by Leah, he took stock of his life. Did he believe in God? Yes, definitely. Had his call to the priesthood been a divine hoax? Even with the pain ripping his inner being, he had to admit his vocation hadn't been and still was not a terrible mistake. He enjoyed being a priest. He derived a great deal of personal satisfaction from his ministry among his fellow Santo Sangríans. As much as he wished to blame God, the Church, and the priesthood for his current misery, it would have been less than honest to do so.
"You want it all, don't you, Javier?" a voice asked from a dark corner of his room.
"Yes, Lord, I do." Why couldn't he have it all . . . God, the Church he loved, the ministry that allowed him to express all that was good and decent in his willing spirit--and the soul mate he never dreamed existed or could exist for him? What justice was there in a man-made law that forbade him the expression of one love, as a condition for expressing all the other loves that nourished his life?
"It isn't fair!" he wept, biting the pillow's cotton material to stifle any sound that might spill over the window sill and into his neighbors' bedrooms. Fair or not, God-Church-Priesthood prevailed. He wasn't prepared to forfeit the only life knew to travel an unlit road into an uncertain future.
At the altar the next morning, the words of consecration took on new meaning. "This is my body," he proclaimed, extending the small loaf of unleavened bread toward the kneeling worshipers. The words were those of Jesus, but they proclaimed Jay's resolution to be faithful to his commitment.
He raised the cup of wine. "This is my blood," and his heart cried out, The price I will pay for loving Leah forever, without ever having her as my own.
13
That spring of 1974 passed into a typically hot and humid Santo Sangrían summer. The change occurred without much seasonal difference, except for the lesser amount of rainfall. Leah's and Jay's pact had held, making them feel strong and noble.
At first, they carried their own little secret, hidden away from the judging gaze of everyone around them. It was enough to be in love. Only their eyes expressed their passion, and only when the two were sure no one could intercept and misinterpret the innocent exchange of glances.
Leah had never been happier, nor had she ever been so miserable. "This isn't how it's supposed to be," she told her mirror one sticky night, when she knew she would lie awake until dawn in the cocoon of her mosquito netting. Sleepless nights had become routine. It was hardest then. She thought of Jay, wondering if he too lay awake. Insomnia created a vacuum in which her mind roamed the battlefield of dangerous possibilities.
First, she rationalized that her situation wasn't all that terrible. Maybe I can stay on in Santa Teresita. Then, the counterattack. Stay on? What are you thinking? You'll be a basket case within a year. August Thirty-first, the end of her P/SHARE term--and freedom--seemed a tortoise's lifetime away.
These nightly exercises twisted her psyche into a pretzel and left her exhausted by the time morning rescued her, sending her off to the saving distraction of work.
* * *
"Well, Mag, I went and did it," Leah blurted one late-June morning. The older woman looked up from the papers on her desk in the cracker-box office they shared. Her quizzical frown invited explanation. "Just what you told me not to do." What relief, saying even that much aloud, after keeping the truth entombed for months. She had lately begun to think that maybe Catholics had something in their sacrament of confession. The whole idea never made sense before and seemed superfluous.
"I know." Understanding mixed with a hint of disappointment in Maggie's husky voice.
"You do?"
"Girl, I've been around the block a few times. Do you think we can live and work this close together every day and still hide our deepest secrets from each other?"
"I don't know yours," Leah said. It was a rude, thoughtless remark, and untrue. On their occasional long drives into the capital and back, Maggie had spoken freely of her marriage to Arthur Adams and how much she missed him still. She had shared the pain of her one disappointment in life, never having children. "It was a choice I made," Maggie confided, "but sometimes the things I want most deprive me of other things I want, but not as much."
Still, in this moment of truth, Leah felt cheated of the opportunity to bare her soul to Maggie. Why? Had she wanted to shock her boss with the revelation that she had fallen in love with the local priest--and that he in turn loved her?
"What are you going to do about it?" Maggie said, with no hint of I-told-you-so.
Leah asked for a suggestion.
"Uh-uh." Maggie frowned and shook her head. "No freebies. Do your own work. Unless you make the decision, you'll always have someone else to blame if your life doesn't go the way you think it should. I don't want to be remembered as the old witch who spoiled your happiness."
"I've decided to go home when my term is up," Leah announced. The decision spared P/SHARE the embarrassment of having to send a rookie volunteer home in disgrace.
Maggie leaned forward, elbows resting on the pile of papers on her desk. She propped her chin in the palms of her h
ands. "Leah, you're a lovely young woman. One of the best volunteers P/SHARE's ever had. I'd love to have you stay on. And, I'd recommend you in a minute to any of our stations. But you've got to do what you've got to do. I'll support you all the way."
Maggie's friendly affection and professional vote of confidence buoyed Leah's self-esteem. It had little effect on the shame she felt. "This thing has shaken me pretty badly." Leah's cheeks burned. Hot streams tumbled over the rims of her eyes. They followed jagged paths down her face and met at the tip of her chin. She slapped them away with the back of her hand. "I need to get my head screwed back on straight, before I can be of any use to P/SHARE. I just wish I didn't feel like I'm running away from my problems, rather than facing them."
Maggie let out a hoot and embraced Leah with a mother's warmth. "Believe me, dear. When your opponent is what Catholics call 'Holy Mother Church,' running away is the better part of valor. You're in a no-win situation."
* * *
By the end of July, Leah was counting the days until her scheduled departure. If it hadn't been for Guadalupe Moreno's appendicitis and Father Alejandro's gout, she might have gotten through the summer without further damage to her heart.
The station's Jeep was loaded with supplies for the two-hour trek up and around Chuchuán to the parish's small mission annex at Piedra Blanca. P/SHARE operated a drop-in clinic, whenever a priest visited the mission to say Mass, hear confessions, perform a wedding or two, and baptize the new babies.
Usually, Ed Wright went along to minister to the medical needs of the coffee plantation workers, whose families had labored for generations on the volcano's terraced slopes. On this particular Saturday morning, Ed was busy disposing of Guadalupe's angry appendix. It fell to Leah to accompany the old priest up the mountain, "And don't let him drive! No matter what he says. Neither of you will come back alive."
There wouldn't be much doctoring at Piedra Blanca this trip, but at least Leah could see to the distribution of food and clothing to the most needy families. She changed into khaki shorts and a sleeveless, open-necked safari shirt and grabbed her green and yellow Oakland A's cap to contain her hair during the jolting ride ahead of them.
When she pulled up in front of the rectory, Jay was waiting for her with a black suitcase that held Mass vestments, chalice, bread and wine, holy oils, all the items needed for the sacraments he might be called upon to perform.
"I thought--" they blurted simultaneously.
"Ed's operating on Lupe. The nurses are assisting . . . . Maggie's in Santa Catalina."
"Father Alejandro's gout acted up."
Leah's first instinct was to drive the Jeep straight back to the clinic and park it. But the people in Piedra Blanca expected a priest to visit them. Then there were the supplies. She had to go.
Leah and Jay would be away from the village by themselves for the first time. The realization excited and terrified her. The constant presence of coworkers and villagers in Santa Teresita made it relatively easy to keep their resolution not to spend time together. Whatever their internal desires and struggles, daily life provided few opportunities to be alone for any length of time. The all-day journey up the side of Chuchuán and back presented them with their first real test.
"Well, let's go then," Jay said after securing his gear in the back and hopping into the passenger seat. When Leah sat there mute, he repeated, "You do know how to drive this thing, don't you?"
Leah glared at him. "Just watch!" She jammed the Jeep into gear and sent it lurching forward like a bucking bronco, spewing gravel and dust as the tires dug in.
Only two families presented babies for baptism in Piedra Blanca that day. Often, a half-dozen or more crowded the tiny mission chapel, which was barely more than a shed.
Leah watched Jay perform the Church rituals with evident faith and genuine affection for the happy parents, godparents, and relatives. He spoke in the plainest words of God's unconditional love for these two new members of the Christian community. He explained every action and symbol of the ceremony, helping the participants understand and appreciate the significance of the sacrament. He laughed and apologized, when one of the infants screamed in protest as cool baptismal water flowed across her shiny brown forehead and trickled into round, wide-open eyes.
Seeing Jay in action as spiritual servant of his flock only made Leah desire him more. She wanted so much to share her love with him and draw nourishment from his abundant store of goodness.
The journey home was emotionally taut. The need to maneuver the rutted dirt path with skill and care gave Leah an excuse to avoid casual chatter. Ed had warned her an ox or a flock of goats might straddle the right of way. They might even have to push a fallen tree off the road. She longed for the crowded safety of the village.
"Pull over there." Jay pointed to a clump of trees a few yards down the road. This sudden detour from their itinerary surprised Leah. "It's early," he explained. "There's no big hurry to get back."
Ignoring all the nay-saying voices within her, Leah slowed the Jeep. She pulled off the main road into a thicket of bushes that easily gave way, as the vehicle passed through them. Although they were no more than ten yards from the road, the soft tropical foliage concealed the Jeep. Leah shot a What's-this-all-about? expression at her passenger.
Jay pulled the plastic collar from his throat and slipped it into the breast pocket of his sweat-soaked white shirt. "This is my favorite spot on the whole island. I've dreamed of showing it to you. I thought I'd never have the chance." He led her a few feet deeper into the lush jungle-like growth.
Hidden from the view of whatever occasional traffic might pass by, Leah found herself in a Garden of Eden. In front of them stretched a dark inviting pool into which a wide, thin veil of prismed crystal fell from a jutting ledge a dozen feet above the surface. Filtered sunlight tumbled through the high trees that formed a lacy parasol overhead. The crackling conversations of brightly colored exotic birds fell to a hush as the intruders approached. All around them, varieties of orchids discharged delicate scents into the summer air.
"It's beautiful! I've never seen anything like it, except in travel folders."
Jay transformed before her eyes. His face took on the mischievous look of a fourteen-year-old who had ditched school to spend the day at his favorite swimming hole. "Let's go for a dip." Clearly, he expected Leah to join in his lark.
A quiver radiated from Leah's stomach into her thighs. She fought to keep the pleasurable sensation from breaking through her stern expression. Someone needed to be sensible about this unplanned diversion, she decided. Obviously, the parish priest of Santa Teresita had no intention of accepting that role. "I don't think that's such a good idea," Leah said. There would be no Huck Finn adventure on the slopes of Chuchuán this Saturday afternoon, not if she could help it. "Besides, I don't happen to have a swimsuit with me. Darn!" She threw her hands up and started back to the Jeep. "Now, if you'd told me before we left--"
"We can strip to our underwear. What's the difference?" The truant schoolboy refused to let logic deter him.
"Great theology, Cardinal de Córdova! The pope should pin a medal on you." The heavy, humid air and the promised coolness of the beckoning pool tempted Leah as powerfully as the apple did Eve. To swim here with Jay, out of the sight of anyone who might misunderstand and disapprove . . . . "Oh damn! I can't resist a chance to cool off."
Tentatively, shyly at first, Leah removed her sweat-soaked shirt and shorts. Seeing that Jay was as self-conscious as herself, she giggled. "Like a couple of teen-agers, aren't we?"
"I don't do this every day."
"I should hope not, Father!"
Jay blushed. "I mean, I've never done it before."
Leah grew quiet and serious. "That makes it all the more special." Her breath caught at the sight of Jay's trim, golden body, as he stood at the edge of the pond in his briefs. The humidity created a film of perspiration that made his skin glow, as if he stood in a spotlight.
&nb
sp; She felt strangely comfortable under his gaze. A wave of generosity flowed through her. She unhooked her bra and let it drop at her feet. With self-conscious grace, she stepped out of her panties and stood facing him, arms at her sides, eyes lowered so that she could see only the grass in front of her. How wonderful to be naked before her beloved's gaze. She felt childlike, playful, modest, innocent. She invited him to look until he had memorized every inch of her body. When she raised her eyes, his briefs lay on the grass.
"God! You are beautiful!" he exclaimed. It was both a compliment and a prayer of thanks that the impossible had come true. "Come on." He took her by the hand and led her into the refreshing lagoon.
Leah swam ahead toward the showering waterfall. Jay followed. Ducking under the translucent rainbow of water, they surfaced in a private, misty room, between the volcanic rock formation and the sheer, tumbling falls. Her toes barely touched bottom. Jay laid his hands along the sides of Leah's head and drew her lips to his. She stiffened. A caution light flashed. "Jay--"
"Don't say it," he whispered and again covered her mouth with his to silence her doubts. His hands slid to her breasts, cupping them while his thumbs drew idle circles around her nipples. He rested his palms on her hips before following their gentle curve to her buttocks.
Leah emitted a muffled gasp when his fingers found her sensitive opening. Even in the tepid pool, shivers ran relays up and down her limbs. His kisses and touches were heaven. In the cool water, her breasts burned from contact with his chest. Her lips responded with unquenchable yearning for one more taste of his mouth--and another and another. Her exploring tongue expressed long-repressed feelings that defied words. Jay held her close to his body which sent urgent signals of desire. Leah wanted him as much as he wanted her. To be separated from him now or ever could only be hell.
* * *
An hour later, they lay side by side, sunning themselves on the pond's lava bank. How quickly the minutes had passed, a tiny island of time in a nameless paradise unknown to the outside world. Fate had offered them temporary respite from all the troubled realities surrounding their being together. Although some distant wisdom spoke caution . . . limit . . . it had failed in the end to prevail.