Ari Incognita
an excerpt

Opening scene:

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“When was your last confession, my child?”

Ari stared at her hands, ignoring the metal gate that separated her from the priest, and counted back in her head.

“Five weeks.”

The priest began to read a scripture in his mumbled, soothing tone. Ari tried to listen, tried to draw the goodness of the words into her, but she could barely hear him. Her heart was heavy, as it always was after a job was finished. It was not exactly sorrow, not exactly regret, just a self-doubting that infiltrated her lungs and core until she felt her heart would stop beating from it. Sometimes it made her petrified. Sometimes she thought—How have I come to this place? How did I come to be doing this? What’s wrong with me?

But then the paycheck would come through and she would spend a Sunday at church (it made her mom so happy), and she would feel better. Ready to get back to work.

“Tell me your sins, my child.”

She inhaled slowly and squeezed her eyes shut. This was the hardest part. She always expected the priest’s hand to come whipping through the small window that separated them, grab hold of her, scream in outrage at how a horrible person should not step foot into his church. And then a lightning bolt would streak down from the ornate stained-glass window beyond the booth and strike her dead. What a news story that would make.

But it never happened, she reminded herself, wetting her lips.

“I killed a man.”

There was a moment of silence. They never expected those words. She could feel the priest’s eyes on her through the little window, assessing her. Not sure to believe her or not. But it was his job to believe her.

“My child—”

“Actually,” she interrupted, just now beginning to feel a tinge of guilt. “I killed three men. But I’ve been really good otherwise, and I swear they all deserved it.”

She heard the priest’s robes ruffle and thought for a moment he was going to storm around to her side of the booth and yell at her to get out of his church. She snapped her jaw shut, knowing that that probably hadn’t been the proper thing to say. Who was she to decide who deserved death?

He lightly cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable. “It is the Lord’s role and His alone to take his children back to heaven with him.”

“I understand,” she choked. Wishing his words affected her more than they did.

“Give your sins up to God, my child, and you will have redemption. You must recite the Lord’s Prayer and fifteen Hail Mary’s each night this week, and meditate on the sin you have committed and the goodness of God to save you from straying further from the path of righteousness.”

Ari nodded, clenching and unclenching her hands together, and began muttering the Act of Contrition, “Oh God, I am sorry for having offended Thee…”

When she was done, the priest continued with his final prayer. Ari held her breath, pretending that the words were falling on her like holy water, pretending they could actually make a difference. “God the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son, has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of…”

“Ari!”

Ari jerked her out toward the crimson drapery that separated her from the rest of the church, and her mother’s panicked voice.

“Oh, um—sorry, Father, I have to go. But, uh, thanks!” She threw a quick sign of the cross and stood on legs that were sore from kneeling. Dashing from the booth she nearly ran straight into her mother.

Ari screeched to a halt. “Sorry, mom, I was just… in the confession booth…” She cast her eyes over one shoulder to see the priest emerging with a suspicious frown.

Her mom gave an irritated sigh. “Ari, how many times have I told you to leave those poor men alone? They have enough to think about without you pestering them!”

“Right. Sorry, mom.”

The priest’s eyes flickered over her. A child, she knew he was thinking. Just a child, playing a practical joke. His face screwed up with disappointment.

Ari turned away, feeling even guiltier than when she’d come in. Why did she even bother?

“Let’s go home, mom.”